#i might do a second bigger piece for days 5 and possibly 12 after i finish the full set

[sesamenom]

four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree

-

okay so they aren't the most traditional 'calling birds' but I was running out of bird coded people so here's some gulls of Ulmo! looks like the action's picking up... :)

[Day 5]

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

12C, part 12

Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6 |   Part 7 |   Part 8 |   Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 |

Tag List: @deluxewhump @whumpinggrounds @yet-another-heathen   @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog  @killtheprotagonist

Content Warnings:  immortal whumpee, lady whumpee, captivity, lab whump, dehydration, starvation, exhaustion, temporary character death, sort of dehumanization? or perhaps better stated as disregard for ones humanity

Author’s Notes: I call this chapter ‘I have no clue what I’m doing but I’m trying’. Brought to you by 6 lovely souls. :) Usually I do a deeper edit of these but I’m feeling lazy tonight and really want to get this one up so I can move forward. I was also a little writer’s blocked this week so apologies if it’s not my best work. :\

Also, I think I might post the next set of parts under a new title...picking up where this leaves off, of course! But there’s something nice and complete about there being 12 ‘chapters’ to this, and as you’ll see, the title being named for the room might not apply anymore. ;)  So if you’re on this tag list or watching this series don’t be alarmed if suddenly a new title is there when the next part pops up.

----

Emmeline has been gone before - taken away for testing or left somewhere overnight so they can check for results in the morning.

But this is different.

Everything is gone. The table, the equipment, everything except the camera in the corner. The room is completely dark and empty.

Liv pulls out her clipboard and flips to her page for the room - or, she would, if it was there. She hasn’t been given any checklist, any notes, anything for room 12C. It’s as though no one was ever there.

Slowly she backs out of the room and shuts and locks the door. In her mind she begins frantically skimming through every moment of the day she can remember. Did anyone look at her differently? Say something to her?

This has to be my fault somehow.

Right?

And yet, no one called her to an office or confronted her in the hallway. She came in to work and went about her day as usual. Surely if they suspected her of tampering with a subject, or any other violation, they would take action immediately?

Unless Emmeline is being punished instead of me.

But where is she?

Liv goes through her final routine tasks of the night on autopilot, her mind turning over every worst possible scenario.

Maybe Emmeline was taken to another lab. Maybe there’s an even more top-secret level to this lab that she has no idea about. Or maybe...maybe that bastard Dr. Crafton did something with her…

An additional thought creeps in that Liv refuses to dwell on.

What if she died for good this time?

But that can’t be true. Even at her most fearful and cynical, Liv can’t comprehend the tragedy of Emmeline’s light being snuffed out in this prison after hanging on so long.

She has to be alive somewhere. Suffering, scared, but alive.

But where?

----

In the days that follow Liv performs her magnum opus of pretending things are fine.

On the surface she’s as calm, quiet, and moody as always. Inside she’s constantly paranoid, expecting to be confronted at every turn, pulled into an office and questioned. She’s wary of the researchers and of security, even of her own boss. She over analyzes every look and interaction.

But one, two, three days into the week and nothing has changed except Emmeline being gone and, as of Wednesday evening, a new resident in room 12C. The balancing act in Liv’s mind between ‘I’m so fucked’ and ‘where is Emmeline’ tips in favor of the latter. It’s not as though she can ask someone. So she starts simply...listening.

Her late hours are an obstacle; most of the researchers have left by the time she starts cleaning. But the ones that sometimes stay over tend to be the chattiest when they believe no staff - at least, in their mind, no staff worth acknowledging - are present.

It takes caution and patience, but soon from observations and overheard conversations with her headphones in, Liv manages to piece together what happened.

There are whispers of new subjects, more than they have room for. Frustrated complaints of how the ‘research’ with Emmeline was going nowhere, of failed blood transfusions and transplants. ‘Fascinating but useless’ was how one of them put it. Without results the funding would soon dry up, but selling her to a competitor would be disastrous if the competitor had success where they didn’t.

But that’s as far as Liv gets. A why without a where. They don’t have a room for her or funding to continue research, but they won’t sell her. In a better world they’d let her go, but Liv doesn’t humor that idea for a second.

Her suspicions still linger on Dr. Crafton a little while longer. Considering his newfound enjoyment of torture, she wouldn’t put it past him to ‘volunteer’ to move Emmeline to a private lab of his or something.

This soon disproves itself for her. In the fleeting moments she sees Dr. Crafton he seems irritable, not at all like a man who got exactly what he wanted. Then one evening she overhears him griping about the ‘wasted potential’ of the former subject in 12C and Liv is sure he doesn’t have her.

Any satisfaction she gets from these discoveries is quickly dulled by still not knowing where Emmeline is. Liv keeps showing up, keeps hoping, does her work in spite of the gnawing ache of Emmeline’s absence. All this time Liv was trying to help and comfort her, she didn’t realize how much of a help and comfort Emmeline was in return.

I just want to see her again...

----

A week passes, and then another. Liv still listens, still keeps an eye out, but her hope is fading. No one notices, of course. She was always a little sullen, always kept to herself. As long as she continues to be a good worker, no one bothers her or questions her.

That night is particularly quiet. Most subjects are asleep or keep to themselves. Even the chatty guards in Hall A are bored and end up listening to a sports radio show rather than talk to each other or Liv.

Near the end of her shift Liv makes her way to that floor’s storage room. It’s a small, dingy room with a single lightbulb that barely illuminates all of the shelves that line the walls. Nothing important resides here - not samples or expensive medical equipment. Only cleaning supplies, tools for maintenance, a handful of basic first aid, and obsolete equipment gathering dust, some of which might be older than the building itself.

Normally Liv prefers the supply room on the floor above; it’s a little bigger, a little cleaner. But tonight she’s feeling lazy and settles for this one.

As she’s putting things back on the shelves, she notices something pushed back against the far wall that wasn’t here before. It’s just a crate, long and sturdy but unremarkable. But what piques Liv’s curiosity is its presence here at all. No one uses this room except her, the janitor who fills in on nights she’s off, and sometimes maintenance. Maybe one of the researchers might come looking for something they need, but more often than not this room sits neglected.

Liv kneels beside the crate and feels around for a way to open it. She finds a latch and unclasps it easily, then manages to wiggle the lid up enough to get her fingers under. It isn’t even on that tight, and it only takes a couple pulls to lift it open.

What the fuck?!

She gasps and recoils, falling back and scrambling away from the crate, breathing quickly. Not much gets to her around here, but she was not expecting to open that thing and find a dead body.

Once the initial shock subsides she sits up and brushes her hands on her jeans. This doesn’t make sense. Subjects that die are given autopsies and then incinerated. If it’s here in the facility, why isn’t it in a lab room?

Shaken but determined, Liv scoots closer to the crate and peers in again. It’s hard to make out much in the dim light, but she can tell that the body is...fresh, for lack of a better word, and padded with some kind of loose packing material. She moves up along the box, having to tilt a little to keep her own shadow from blocking her view so she can see the face - 

For several long, silent moments, Liv just...stares. She blinks against the darkness, trying to process what she’s seeing.

“Emmeline?” she says aloud, barely recognizing her own voice. Hands shaking, she takes out her phone and turns on the flashlight.

The face illuminated by the light, gaunt and lifeless, is unmistakably Emmeline’s.

Liv quickly turns off the flashlight and puts her hand over her mouth to suppress a sound of...of…

Of what?

Relief that she found her, or fear that she’s dead dead, or disgust that they stuck her in a box in a storage room like nothing more than a piece of old equipment.

There are too many questions going through her mind and she pushes them all aside. She reaches a shaky hand down and cups Emmeline’s face. It’s cool to the touch, but Liv has seen her share of dead bodies before and something about this is...different. Like her body is lingering in some state between life and death, simply dormant. It’s just a half-assed theory, but it gives her hope.

Liv brushes her thumb over Emmeline’s lips, finding them chapped. There isn’t a mark on Emmeline’s body, and any drugs to put her under would have worn off by now. The most obvious and awful conclusion is that they simply let her die naturally of dehydration, alone in the dark.

A tear slips from Liv’s cheek onto Emmeline’s neck and trickles down out of sight. Liv sits back with a loud sniff and rubs at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “You deserve better than this…”

She slips her hoodie off and leans forward again, draping it like a blanket over Emmeline. Like this, it’s almost easy to believe that she’s just sleeping.

“It’s going to be okay,” she says numbly, “somehow.”

Then she puts the lid back on, stands, and leaves the room.

----

In the time between when she leaves after discovering Emmeline, and when she returns the next day, something shifts in Liv.

The sight of that drawn, still face haunts her dreams. And when she wakes all she can think about is the notion of Emmeline being stored like a piece of furniture only for them to take out and hurt again someday when they have funding or whatever the fuck.

When Emmeline was in one of the lab rooms the idea of trying to help her with guards and cameras around felt impossible. But the storage room...that she can work with.

She waits until the end of her shift before going to the storage room again. She doesn’t even have to act differently or come up with an excuse; she has plenty of legitimate reasons to be in there.

As soon as the door closes behind her she grabs her water bottle from her cart and goes right to the crate. She opens it cautiously, as though not wanting to startle its occupant. But Emmeline hasn’t moved an inch or changed in the slightest since last night.

“Hey,” she says quietly, just like she would when entering room 12C. It feels natural even if Emmeline doesn’t answer.

Liv leans over the crate and tips the water bottle to Emmeline’s lips. She lets just the smallest trickle of water slip in at first, then another, then another. Nothing happens right away, but Liv isn’t deterred. She has no idea how her immortality works, but Emmeline has been ‘dead’ for days now, surely it will take more than a couple sips of water for her body to heal.

She leans one arm on the edge of the crate and rests her chin on her arm. With the other hand she continues slowly pouring water down Emmeline’s parched throat, a little at a time. Pour. Stop. Wait. Look for signs of life. Pour again.

It feels a bit like watering a plant, and also not at all like that. Emmeline is not nearly so replaceable.

When the bottle is empty, she caps it and sits up with a sigh, stretching her stiff shoulders. She can’t help feeling disappointed. She was expecting something to happen. But it’s okay - if it takes time, so be it.

Just as Liv is reaching for the lid, she hears a soft sound. She freezes, arms out, listening intently. It wouldn’t surprise her if it was a rat or something, with the state of this room…

Several silent seconds tick by and she’s starting to believe she imagined it when the sound happens again. A little louder...and close…

Heart pounding, she looks down into the crate. At first glance nothing has changed, but the longer she looks...yes. Yes, she’s sure of it - her hoodie, still draped over Emmeline, is moving ever so slightly with barely-there breaths. When Liv presses her fingers to Emmeline’s wrist, she finds a weak pulse.

Oh my god. Oh my god, it worked.

The soft sound comes again and it is now clear that it’s the sound of a sighing breath. Triumphant as she feels at having done something right for a change, Liv knows things are far from good. Emmeline is in bad shape. This is going to take time.

Liv touches Emmeline’s arm for a moment, watching her face. Little changes apart from the puffs of breath that now escape her chapped lips, but it feels like a victory. Not to mention a big fuck you to the researchers.

“Hang in there,” she whispers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

It kills her to have to put the lid back on and leave Emmeline in the dark like that. The best she can hope for is that she remains unconscious a little longer. Liv is impatient, she wants to make this all better right now. But for both of their sakes, patience is necessary.

Hang in there, she tells herself, as well.

----

Part of being patient means not going back to the storage room every night. She used to barely use it at all, and she fears too sudden a change in her behavior will draw unwanted attention. It’s one of the hardest things she has ever done, to walk past that room knowing Emmeline is inside and then keep walking.

Still, Liv manages to hold out for a few days before returning. She parks her cart just inside the storage room door; she doubts anyone will enter, but if they do, the obstacle might buy her some time to quickly close the crate.

Emmeline is no longer breathing. Liv expected as much, but it hurts all the same. This time, though. This time will be different.

Once again she feeds her sips of water and soon enough there are signs of life. This time, Liv is prepared with another bottle - this one filled with apple juice.

She cups Emmeline’s head and lifts it a little to give her a sip of the juice. Another, then another. Slow, patient, hopeful. Emmeline’s pulse grows stronger, her breathing more steady.

And then she moans, and it’s a weak, pitiful, broken sound, but Liv is so damn relieved to hear it, because it means she is that much closer to waking.

Liv continues giving her sips of juice, watching her throat bob as she actively swallows it. Suddenly she begins to cough and it startles Liv so much she nearly spills the juice all over her. She quickly pulls the bottle away and sets it aside, her eyes fixed on Emmeline.

Emmeline’s coughs fade into raspy breaths. She groans and shifts uncomfortably. Then finally, finally, her eyes slowly open.

She’s frail and shaky. Her glazed-over eyes flick around, uncomprehending. Her mouth opens as though to speak, but when she tries nothing comes out.

“Emmeline?” Liv says, very quietly.

At the sound of her name, Emmeline’s eyes land on Liv. The recognition on her face is immediate, and Liv can’t help but smile.

“Hey. It’s just me. Here...”

She holds the bottle to her lips again and Emmeline drinks eagerly.

“Careful, not too fast...that’s better...okay I’m going to take it away again, I don’t want you to overdo it…”

She sets the bottle aside again while Emmeline gasps for breath after practically chugging the whole thing down. Liv can’t blame her, and hates to deny her what she so desperately needs, but she also doesn’t want to make her sick.

“Just breathe. You’re okay.” Relatively. “I’ll give you more in a minute.” She reaches down and takes Emmeline’s hand.

“Where…” Emmeline’s voice cracks. She pauses, swallows, starts again. “Where am I?”

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“...good.”

“The good news is you aren’t in the lab.” Liv gives her a moment to process that before regretfully adding, “the bad news is that you’re still in the building. In...a storage closet.”

Emmeline blinks slowly up at the ceiling, her brow pinched. “What?”

She shifts again and Liv realizes that she’s trying to sit up. Liv instinctively reaches to help, putting a hand on Emmeline’s back - only to withdraw when Emmeline gasps.

“S-sorry, I was just - “

“No,” Emmeline interrupts. “Please - put it back, it was warm…”

Liv remembers how cold Emmeline’s skin was when she found her like this, and this room is just as chilly as the lab. She slowly settles her hand on Emmeline’s back again and helps her ease herself up. It’s hard to resist the urge to touch more - a hand in her hair, an arm around her shoulders - but she doesn’t know whether it would be welcome.

But Emmeline is shivering and she has to do something.

“Here…” she takes the hoodie that has been acting as a blanket for Emmeline these past few days and slips it around her shoulders. “Arms.” Emmeline obediently slips her arms through the sleeves.

When Liv zips it up Emmeline curls her arms up to her chest and presses her face into the cuffs of the sleeves. “Thank you, this is - oh - “

Emmeline’s eyes flutter shut and she sways, nearly dropping back into the crate. Liv steadies her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Shit...hey, breathe, you’re okay…” Maybe sitting her up so quickly wasn’t the best idea.

Taking slow breaths, Emmeline opens her eyes again. She looks so tired in spite of being under for so long. But then, she’s been denied food, water, warmth, proper rest, safety, and the type of weariness living like that brings is bone-deep and not so easily solved.

Her eyes dart around the room - from the old metal shelves to the dim lightbulb to the concrete floor, and heartbroken understanding falls over her face.

“When they put me in this box,” she whispers, looking so empty, so resigned, “I thought they were moving me somewhere. Maybe another lab. I thought within a day or two the lid would come off. But it never did. It was so dark and cold and...and you weren’t there, and…” her lip quivers and she clutches at the cuffs of the hoodie. “I was scared…”

Liv swallows around the lump in her throat, feeling her eyes burn. Those fucking bastards. “I thought they took you away too, at first. Finding you was...kind of by accident. But now that I have...” she steels herself, knowing once she says this, there’s no going back. “...I’m getting you out of here.”

Emmeline looks to her, eyes wide and tentatively hopeful. “You are?”

Liv chews her bottom lip and nods. “I have a plan. I just need you to hang in there a little longer…”

“I can do that,” Emmeline replies, voice wavering. “Please just be careful…”

“I will.”

Emmeline looks half about to cry, half about to pass out. Liv gently nudges at her shoulders, easing her back down into the crate.

“Please don’t take the shirt,” Emmeline whispers as her eyes close.

“I won’t,” Liv promises. “It’s yours now.”

“Thank you…”

A tear slips down her cheek and Liv brushes it away with her thumb. She leaves her hand there a moment for Emmeline to lean into, seeking out every small bit of comfort she can get. Liv wants to give her more, so much more, but she can’t. Not here. Not yet.

“I’ll be back,” she promises as she reaches for the lid. “Just hang on a little longer,” she adds as she lowers it, cloaking Emmeline’s sleeping form in darkness once more.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (12/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Recruitment Season.

Having been recruited himself, Levi was somewhat familiar with the timeline. Or at least he should have been familiar with it.

When he had suggested showing up for one of Mikasa’s tournaments, his end goal had been to at least get Hange out of her hole, the same way she had pulled him out of his own slump. With nothing else on his mind though leading up to the tournament, he found himself a little too surprised at the large crowd that showed up that day at the entrance of the school.

And Levi was familiar with the clipboards, the iPads and the way those particular people strode into the school with some sort of purpose.

The school so close to their largest city was much larger than the school he grew up in. Back in his old school, there were only two to five scouts at a time for at least ten different sports. There, by the entrance of Public School No. 104, the crowd was large and Levi was overwhelmed.

For a second he doubted whether or not he had read the entries on the events page right. That second became a few seconds and maybe even a minute as Levi recalled that there had been multiple events slated for that day. There was a huge possibility that he could have read it wrong.

He had thought ahead enough at least to bookmark the page on his phone. Whether or not he had thought ahead to bookmark it because of any lingering doubt or because it had been just a little too convenient to click the star on his phone was a question he quickly brushed off even before he could entertain it.

What was important then was he had something to assure him that he hadn’t been a total idiot taking Hange to that school.

If we can’t watch jumping, maybe they have diving or gymnastics or something. Levi thought to himself in that few second gap pulling the phone out of his pocket and scrolling through it.

Those were all consolations though. The grand prize was still the high jump event and he would hate himself if he had read the time wrong. The chances were small but the visit to the school had been crucial for many reasons.

For one, Hange had not gone out since her parents gave her a deadline to vacate her apartment. She hadn’t seemed completely alive since then, almost reminiscent of Levi’s own bout of isolation. She didn’t do much either to ask for help, to open up about her own turmoil.

It had been just the two of them clearing out years worth of clutter in the apartment for hours on end, which soon turned to days on end, save for those small few hours to get groceries. The silence which only further alluded to the lifelessness of the room, was deafening.

And in his own way, Levi found himself almost obliged to reignite something within her.

On top of that, Levi hadn’t written anything for three days. At first glance, that wasn’t an issue. Overtime though, with nothing much to do, with the decision to stay at home with Hange, he had started writing more, organizing thoughts on Petra, Zeke, Erwin, Farland, Isabel and he had written thousands of words, tens of pages but Levi was sure, the story was far from over.

There were glaring holes that he had dug through the deepest pits of his memories trying to fill. His documents were riddled with empty bullet points, blank spaces and sometimes even half complete sentences any other casual reader would have never made sense of.

There were inarguable truths though with what he had pieced together. Many of the people he had met had died, and he felt the raw pain with every single one of them in his dreams, only manageable by the reminder that they were all alive and were merely dead as characters in his dreams.

In his dreams and in his stories, he was a soldier. Erwin died and Hange had taken over as a commander. And somehow, they had ended up outside the walls, lying together in the forest and Levi could have sworn he didn’t want to leave.

But for what? Why?

For a time before that, he had been in the forest with that blond doctor too and Levi had hated his guts then too.

But under what context?

Keep writing and you’ll find out. Something nagged at him. But it was as if he had written everything. The dreams just replayed. The memories of familiar strangers only got more and more vivid. And the dreams he saw and the thoughts he reflected on only served to add detail to the sceneries and to the faces as Levi wrote them.

But he knew how they looked like in real life, there was no need to describe their faces any more than he already did. And what did scenery have to do with anything? From what he remembered, half of what he dreamt of was within walls anyway.

But there was a lead. Mikasa Ackerman. He remembered voices. He remembered raw care and concern. And he was sure there was still something to probe on those names. He tried describing her on paper with just the name as some sort of lead, but it proved futile.

Any description he attempted to shoehorn into his stories seemed like a lie. It felt almost idiotic and almost obsessive then and Levi was very careful with his words as he asked for directions then.

They gestured for Levi to follow and he found himself keeping a good distance from the crowd as they walked through the school grounds.

From his place behind them, he had heard the name ‘Ackerman’ mentioned a few times among the college scouts, whether they were talking about him or Mikasa, he didn’t probe. He didn’t want to know either. Watching the high jump event might be painful enough for him and he didn’t want to unnecessarily add any more salt to that wound.

“Levi, you sure this is the way to go?” Hange asked.

“That’s where the scouts are going,” Levi said.

Hange pulled out her phone. “I’ll look for a school map.”

Levi shrugged. “The school is bigger than I expected. Let’s cover some ground while you search.” He kept his eyes ahead, keeping the crowd at least in his peripherals as he scanned his surroundings.

As they walked through the main path of the school, the crowd gradually dispersed. Then for Levi who had been so religiously following the crowds since almost a minute ago, it became a game of which crowd was biggest.

Because everyone should be here for Mikasa Ackerman right? Levi thought to himself. He couldn’t wait for Hange to navigate. He pressed on, following the biggest crowd before they turned the corner and disappeared completely.

The crowd may have been for Mikasa, or it could have been for any other athlete or any other sport. He never did find out.

“Levi, I think we should turn around here… The high jump event should be---” Hange started.

“It’s Connie Springer! Connie Springer’s batting next!”

From his view along the main road, partially obscured by tall trees and bushes dotting the landscape, Levi hadn’t gotten a good view at first. And if it hadn’t been for the familiar name, maybe Levi never would have sped up, or gone as fast at least as his limp and his crutches would take him.

He turned the corner, the largest crowd forgotten. He made good distance, even on the rocky landscape that made up the smaller path.

“Levi, be careful. You might trip.” Hange asked. “Besides, where are we going? The high jump event i...”

Hange’s protests eventually faded into something unintelligible from behind him. If he had actually tried to listen, maybe he would have heard whatever else she was saying. It was as if his mind knew, anything she said was futile. He was hell bent on making that detour and he was 100% that detour which was only a few feet away, would give him enough of a satisfying answer.

We can check the venue after. Just give me this few minutes. Levi had been in enough high jump tournaments to know they lasted a fair amount of time anyway.

The smaller path opened up to a field. There were athletes on the field clad in red, one on the field clad in green. Levi had enough stock knowledge on Major League Baseball to know exactly what was happening.

The innings were all on the scoreboard, large enough for Levi to see from his angle. Visitors were leading by three points. The home team had one more out left before the game would be declared over. And out on each base was one player clad in green.

It was a decisive possession for green. Levi surmised even if it hadn’t been Connie Springer who had caught his attention then, maybe he still really would have stopped to watch.

A lot of the crowd looked like they were thinking the same thing. Even with the game almost over, people were still approaching the field.

Connie Springer…

Levi heard the whispers among the scouts. Good runner. Mediocre Batter. And maybe he had felt a little offended for Connie when someone had joked that they should just bid the regionals and nationals goodbye.

Connie was better than that. Levi was sure.

And just like Levi had thought, Connie seemed unfazed. From his position at the side of the field, Connie approached the home plate at a steady yet rapid pace, bat in hand.

The whispers around him only started to get louder as Connie got into a position to bat.

Connie was a mediocre batter and a good runner at the same time. And Connie's hand position as he held the bat was a remnant of just that. Connie held one hand behind the mid section of the bat and he gripped it as if he weren’t going to let go any time soon.

He’s gonna bunt. Levi didn’t need the whispers for that commentary. Just as expected, that was a safe play for someone deemed a ‘shitty batter’ by the cruel audience.

Connie gripped the bat and positioned it. The pitch came a second later. And in that small span of a few seconds, Levi’s expectations were subverted, and as proven by the gasps around him, it looked like the audience’s expectations were subverted as well.

Connie had taken a risk. And in the next few seconds, everyone would find out if it were a good risk. He had swung the bat all the way through, there was a clank of the ball and the ball flew. Looking at the blue and white of the sky, Levi had to squint to see it.

It was a bunt fake. Levi soon realized. But he quickly dropped that thought as he followed Connie along all the bases. He was a great runner and Levi struggled to follow him through the bases. He felt his heart thumping as he followed Connie’s path.

He could hear screams from the audience to run. And Connie was screaming much louder as he ran even after having reached the second base.

Levi was sure he could have stopped there but Connie continued to run, screaming to the others to run as well. And by the third base, Connie could have stopped, and they could have secured a tie. The coach by the third base, held his hands up high, as if to tell Connie to take those three points.

It’s a tie game, no need to. And as Levi soon found out, any efforts to move in the next few seconds would be risky. Levi followed the ball which was already making the rounds of the bases. And when he looked back to third base, he found it empty. Connie was still running.

There were angry screams and Levi wouldn’t be surprised if it was from the coach. Levi didn’t bother to look anywhere else though to check. The next few milliseconds, he dedicated to Connie who was still dashing towards the home base.

Levi’s breath caught that split second when the catcher bent over to grab the ball.

But he still has to tag Connie. The catcher made the mistake of approaching Connie on the lane connecting the bases.

Or was it a mistake? He was blocking Connie’s path. And if Connie did anything like stray away from the path it would be an out.

He kept moving, As if fortune did favor the brave, everything started working for him at once. The catcher had bent over to dash faster. Connie was only getting faster, gaining momentum with every stride.

The split second Connie launched himself in the air and over the catcher, Levi could have sworn time stopped. That pause could have lasted an eternity. Yet everything after that could have happened on fast forward. Connie fell onto the home plate and skidded violently on the field and before Levi could take a good look, Connie was surrounded.

That scene on the field reminded Levi of his own accident months ago.

Is he okay? Levi stayed longer than he should have. He knew if he had left then and there, he probably wouldn’t be able to rest without the guarantee that the young baseball player out there wouldn’t suffer the same fate Levi had.

“Levi… Did you see that?” It sounded like Hange was struggling to breathe.

But in a good way. A good way he had missed so much, he found himself distracted enough to look away from the congregation on the home base and back at Hange.”It looked like he was flying huh?” Levi asked, taking a long good look at Hange as he said those words.

Her face was flushed. The glimmer in her eyes was still there, albeit weaker. Her eyes completely concentrated on the scene in front of her, as if in a trance. And Levi was sure she was imagining, seeing herself in that same spot only a second ago.

Was that how it felt Hange? Every single time you saw someone jump?

Levi was convinced he was right. The glimmer in Hange's eyes was weaker for sure. At first, Levi had thought it to be a remnant of the events of weeks ago, with her thesis struggles, with her parent’s admonishing remarks.

Levi ended up concluding though, that it wasn’t weaker. It was just glowing differently.

There was no desire in her eyes, no childish jealousy at lost dreams she couldn’t achieve. It was as if Hange had gained the power to so purely and innocently, so easily place herself in another's shoes, when she just thinks through it.

And absence worked to make Levi notice it more but in that new glow, that new glimmer in her eyes, Levi noticed then, there was no subtle hint of guilt at having indulged in such a trivial and useless passion her whole life.

Yet every single time he had snuck glances at Hange watching jumps before that, there was guilt in her eyes. As if she was supposed to be doing something more important: studying, working, succeeding, meeting expectations.

Is that how liberation feels? Levi asked himself then. He wanted to ask her that same thing then but he found another question, a follow up question which popped so quickly into his mind even before he had completely articulated the first one. Does she know yet that she’s free?

Maybe she didn’t. Because it had just come so naturally for someone like her.

“I wrote her like that because that’s how Hange Zoe really is.”

“Then I’ll work harder to be like her.”

“You don’t have to. The squad leader and the commander are already in you, you just have to uncover for yourself those parts.”

And she had figured it out for herself in the easiest of states, in a trance borne of passion, ecstasy, excitement and maybe euphoria.

An authentic, unrehearsed and organic smile, from Hange of all people, had left Levi with too many emotions to wrangle with: nostalgia, relief, excitement and everything in between. Too many for him to figure out for itself. Yet, it manifested in that moment, as Levi stood frozen next to her, staring at her for god knows how long. As if that Hange Zoe was something he had lost so long ago, maybe even centuries or even millennia ago. And he could have stood there forever as long she remained in that state of pure organic euphoria.

Hange’s lips widened, then curled up into a smile. “He’s okay!” She screamed, much louder than what could have been appropriate for that situation, for someone who barely even knew the guy on the field.

Levi didn’t mind though. In another story, maybe in another life, Connie was a member of their legion after all.

Hange’s outburst was a done deal and there was nothing much they could do about the eyes focused on them or the whispers among the crowd. Levi took advantage of that sunk cost, he approached Connie who was sitting alone on his bench, taking a quick drink of water.

“You did great out there.” It came out as barely a whisper and as Levi soon realized, he was still too far for Connie to have heard it. And the latter didn’t.

That whisper had completely and so easily been overshadowed by calls from his own teammates to hurry up and pack his things. Connie’s team was going to regionals.

And maybe after that, nationals. It would have been nice to send some sort of congratulations then. Reality took over and brought with it reasonable arguments, all against some sort of odd and almost stalkery approach towards Connie.

Their team would be celebrating that night. Connie was far gone and had disappeared among the crowd of red baseball uniforms. It would be an odd and completely unjustifiable effort to chase Connie down then.

“Congratulations,” Levi whispered to himself.

“Congratulations to...? The home team?” Hange asked, stepping up beside him.

“Yeah, I would have wanted to talk to them. Congratulate them myself.”

“I’m sure they heard you,” Hange said.

The murmurs among the crowd, the praises, the cries and the dissemination of rumors were ubiquitous and they were still far from dead, even as the crowds started to disperse. Behind it all, Levi heard the rustle of trees and the whistling of the winds.

And maybe the wind could carry messages for him. Just in case, Levi did whisper other words of greeting, much softer than what Hange would have heard beside him. They were generic words of congratulations and well wishes but Levi swore they were heartfelt.

And he ended it with one last personalized message. I hope we could meet again and maybe have a little more time to talk.

Hange’s voice broke through his little correspondence. “Hey Levi, we still have an hour or so before the high jump event. What about if we try other events on the way?”

Levi shrugged. “Why not? We’re here already.” The trip had proven to be filled with surprises already.

*******

"Levi, you shouldn't have gone to the toilet. You missed some amazing jumps. There's this girl…. Sasha Braus I think…"

“Sasha Braus?” Levi made sure to say her name slowly, to at least imply some unfamiliarity.

But he was all too familiar with that name already. In fact, that hadn't been a toilet break, Levi had gone to the cafeteria only a building away and bought some plastic wrapped melon bread. Just in case there would be an opportunity to talk.

"How many jumps did I miss?" Levi asked.

"Five or six but we missed the start of the competition already so I think we missed more than that. They said this was the last round… But Sasha's already winning by a lot."

"Just as expected."

"So you know Sasha?"

"I follow athletes too you know."

"But diving?"

"Maybe." Levi kept his reply short, unwilling to keep that joke of a charade any longer.

Hange had a knowing look on her face as if she never did believe him.

Levi returned Hange with a playful look of his own as if to say:

But how else would I know her name?

Hange probably suspected the recognition to have been the result of a series of deductions. But Levi wasn't that smart.

After that encounter with Connie, the names and faces just came to him much faster than ever. Even among the five athletes lined up in front of the pull, Levi could spot her from meters away, last in line

He checked the watch on his phone, thirty minutes until the high jump event. They had enough time to kill.

In the few minutes leading up to Sasha's final dive, Levi made sure to search her name.

Top diver. Top seed for college scouts. High level of diving technique.

Diving wasn't a particularly popular sport where they lived but it was enough to make waves at least on the internet.

When Levi started to watch the women dive into the water, performing tucks, pikes and twists along the way, he did wonder why it never was popular.

And with the way, Hange was looking at them, he suspected she thought the same thing.

"Let's go Sasha!" Hange's voice rang out in the indoor pool area.

Do we know her? Levi asked. Realistically, do we know her? He amended that soon after. He knew her. But was he supposed to know her. Was Hange supposed to know her?

He wasn't too self conscious either. She wasn't the only one who was cheering after all. He could have sworn the blonde in front of them was cheering just as hard.

"Was I too loud?" Hange whispered, a second later. "I think I got too excited."

"No, that's very much a Hänge Zoe move," Levi said.

That small shadow of self consciousness in Hange's voice completely dissipated and Levi was relieved to see that gentle yet excited smile that followed.

And it could have been a hint or an illusion, but as Levi looked back at the brunette who approached the edge of the diving board, he could have sworn she had given them a flicker of a gaze as she positioned herself on the edge.

She may have heard Hange's cheers. Levi wondered though, if she had heard any more of their cheers or if she had recognized them.

Levi leaned towards a 'no.' though having been disappointed a little too many times. And he considered it a done deal as she executed a difficult twist, a pike then dove into the water head first.

"The high jump is starting in ten minutes. We should go," Hänge said, glancing at her watch.

The melon bread in the inner pocket of Levi's jacket protested. He had bought it for her after all.

He had other options at least. "Psst…" Levi called the attention of the blonde in front of him.

She didn't look back.

"Historia," Levi said. He decided for himself then that it was worth the risk.

The blonde looked back at them, her eyes wide open in confusion. "I'm sorry… I don't think I recognize you…" It was just like her to still be polite to a couple of potentially creepy strangers.

"No need to recognize me," Levi said. He pressed the melon pan, into the hand that Historia had held out for a hand shake. "Get this to Sasha for us. Tell her it's from her fans."

With that, the two stepped down from their place in the second row bleachers and quickly and silently slipped out through the entrance.

*******

“Maybe we have the time for one more detour,” Levi said.

“We’re still on the way to the high jump venue. And it’s not like we’re gonna miss everything if we’re ten minutes late,” Hange added.

As they stood at the entrance of the gym along the main road, they were distracted for different reasons. Levi was distracted because he had heard that one name among the cheers loud enough to hear even beyond closed doors. Hange though looked like she had managed to at least get a glimpse of what was going on inside through the transparent glass of the door.

“Should we… go in?” Levi asked.

“You wanna? There’s only a few seconds left.”

“Why not?”

Even with both of them in a silent agreement, they still hesitated. The door opened towards the inside and from what Levi could see with a slight tiptoe, even the door was barricaded. As Levi took a closer look at Hange, he realized that that could have been one of the reasons she was hesitant to go in.

“I saw this pretty cool dunk through this window. I wish you could have seen it.”

“I’ve seen a lot of cool things today already.”

“Yeah, but a few more cool things wouldn’t hurt.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just look at them on Youtube after. You got a name?”

“I’m checking his jersey… The name is too far… Can’t see it from this shitty view. It starts with a K… And it looks like a really long name.”

“Kirstein?”

“Can’t tell…But that doesn’t sound like a long name.”

The buzzer rang loud enough that even Levi found himself jumping at the sound. Cheers followed which Levi had to admit, had been a worse ordeal for his ears than the buzzer of a while ago.

But maybe the wait will be worth it. Levi told himself and he willed himself to be patient. “Let’s wait by the side of the door. People are gonna be going out soon.”

“I wish we could have been earlier. I would have wanted to see more dunks.” Hange whined. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone dunk in real life until now.”

“Well, maybe one day I’ll take you to watch a basketball game live,” Levi said as he leaned on the wall to the side of the gym.

“The tickets are expensive.”

“Aren’t your parent’s filthy rich?”

“Well, they thought games were a waste of time…”

“After we graduate, then we get jobs, maybe we can watch together.”

“That would be nice.” Hange leaned on the wall right next to him. Leaning her head back, she looked to Levi and gave him a playful smile. “Then after that, we can go watch some Major League Baseball and some diving tournaments too.”

It was only then Levi realized he had leaned his head back in the same manner. The way she had mimicked it had been comforting and he found himself following suit. “Maybe we can watch a gymnastics competition or a skating competition?”

“And maybe when we earn more money… Let’s watch the olympics together.”

Levi smiled. “That’s the dream.” He looked at the sky above him, avoiding Hange’s gaze. With the price of the tickets and the distance of the venues though, Levi was aware that it was a distant dream.

But something inside him nagged.

Two months ago, actually making the olympics wouldn’t have been such a distant dream. His coach had talked about the Olympics many times before already, talking about scouts, about post graduation training with the national team. He wondered how pathetic he was at that moment, shifting from dreaming to make the Olympics to dreaming of just watching. It was a short episode of melancholy and maybe if Levi had indulged it, it would have lasted longer.

It was something he willed himself not to show Hange though and instead, he stared up at the sky, willing himself instead to silently admire the view. From his peripherals, he was relieved to see Hange had done similarly.

Noon had shifted to afternoon so subtly. Looking straight up at the light blue, didn’t hurt so much anymore and he suspected it was late afternoon already. He knew they should be leaving soon if they wanted to catch Mikasa’s tournament.

The melancholy weighed on him. As if Hange understood though, she was silent and she didn’t pressure him to move just yet. Levi slid back down on the ground, letting the crutches fall in front of him.

“You okay?” Hange asked, sliding down to a sitting position next to him.

No, I’m not. Levi would have answered. When he looked at Hange though, he saw understanding, as if she knew what would have only been the correct answer to that. But you aren’t okay either. Levi had to note, so it would have only served to stoke the fires of her own vulnerability to admit his own. So he went for a kind in-between.

“I know we’re both not okay. We just have to ride through this until shit gets better,” Levi said, giving Hange the best authentic smile he could muster which felt like more of a lopsided grin in the end.

Hange took a deep breath. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She returned that smile with her own and Levi was certain her own smile had been a better rendition of what he had.

“Jean! Hey! Come back here.”

Levi had done a pretty good job of tuning out the crowds that had been exiting the gym since a while ago. When he looked back to the entrance to see Jean and an unrecognizable teammate just outside, he was almost surprised to see their surroundings almost completely empty, especially when compared to a while ago.

“You can’t just leave. Coach will kill us.”

“I said, I’ll follow. It’s just a celebratory dinner. It’s not like we’ll lose our ticket to regionals if I don’t go.”

“But you scored the winning dunk.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jean asked. “Besides I am going. I’ll just be late.”

The player next to Jean cleared his throat. “Is this about her?”

“Yes. I wanna watch her jump. Is that so bad?”

“Mikasa’s gonna have other tournaments you know.”

“But we’re going to be busy with regionals. Who knows how many times I’ll be able to catch her tournaments before graduation.”

There was an awkward silence between them and Levi was almost tempted to use that moment to approach Jean. Even with some support from Hange though, it had taken Levi more than enough time to push himself to a standing position.

“God you’re such a simp Jean.”

“Cover for me Caleb.”

Caleb walked back into the gym and Jean started to jog, making his way for the main path. Levi was sure with his current state he wouldn’t be able to catch up. It was as if Hange though had read his mind.

“Excuse me!”

Levi followed at a much slower pace, only able to catch up because the two had slowed to a stop in the middle of the main path.

“Mikasa Ackerman? Yes! She’s my classmate.”

Levi noted the light blush on Jean’s face as he spoke. “We wanna watch the tournament too,” Levi added, slowing to a stop beside Hange. “Could we walk there together? This is our first time here so we might get lost.” A partial lie. It wasn’t their first time but they had looked at the map on their phone enough times to have sworn on their life that the path they were taking was correct.

Jean had looked surprised at first, but his dumb expression had quickly shifted to something much friendlier. “I’d be happy to take you two there.” He held out his hand. “Jean Kirstein.”

Hange had been the first to take his hand in a friendly gesture. “Hange Zoe.”

The pleasantries were quickly forgotten and their conversation had shifted to other things. Along the way, Levi had stopped listening as it shifted to conversations on air time and agility exercises.

Just like Hange to want to talk about that. Levi thought. That was the thesis she had wanted to do after all.

Levi allowed himself to trail behind a bit, letting the two grab a bit more distance.

That gave him a good view of the two, side by side. And they have been side by side before, Levi recalled that much. They had discussed strategies, paperwork, war conditions many times before.

Levi took advantage of that distance between them. To further indulge that little picture of a memory, Levi whispered two names under his breath. Commander Hange Zoe and Commanding Officer Jean Kirstein.

That at least added some realism to the view. And Levi was sure he’d remember enough to write pages worth when he got home.

*******

“Looks like we haven’t missed a lot,” Hange said.

“You missed the first few heights but those were too easy. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mikasa sat it out.” Levi commented. He looked to Jean who was gesturing for them to follow as he climbed up the bleachers.

And he kept his focus on Jean the whole way up. The high jump event was his domain and although he had hoped to keep a low profile during the event, a part of him knew that it would be almost impossible. Although his face could be almost forgettable and maybe unnoticeable in the crowds, the crutches only made people stare. And when people stare, they have a tendency to look at faces. And when they look at faces they recognize, sometimes they talk.

Levi had learned that lesson so many times before already. At least though, with every lesson learned, he had gotten better at brushing off the whispers. On top of the quick introductions, the familiar faces on the bleachers had been a very helpful distraction as well, one unbothered and the other, the complete opposite, a little too curious about everything.

Eren and Armin.

“You’re late Jean. Weren’t you the one who so excitedly told Mikasa you’d show up to cheer her on?” Eren asked.

“Hey, I’m here right now. Besides, I knew you and Armin were going to show up anyway. You always do.” Jean said, raising his hands defensively. He looked back at the field as if searching for her among the athletes. “So when is she jumping?”

“She got eliminated.”

Jean buried his face in his hands. “You’re kidding.”

“Eren, she sat out the easier heights right?” Levi had to note that at first glance, it did look like Mikasa wasn’t there. He suspected that the bench where Mikasa was sitting was just a little obscured from their view on the bleachers. He had done similarly too often for it to be anything but routine.

“Oh, you’re familiar with how high jump events work. Better than horseface here,” Eren gave the still recovering Jean a side glance before looking back at Levi. Eren’s unbothered face was far from menacing.

With his own store on his side and his own thoughts, Levi found himself still a little too careful. “I’m a little familiar...” Levi said, letting his voice trail off as he looked back out at the field.

“Excuse me.” Someone spoke up from behind him.

Levi was quick to look back. Compared to Hange who was already so engrossed on the happenings on the field just below, Levi was far from entertained. The heights were still much lower than what he would have considered entertaining.

It was Armin who had called out to him. “Are you Levi Ackerman?” He asked. The blonde seemed so unsure of himself that Levi had half the mind to deny it there just to play with him for a while. Didn’t Jean introduce us already?

“Why do you ask?”

Armin put a hand at the back of his head and flashed a sheepish grin. “Well, ever since Mikasa got into high jumping, I started to get a little more familiar with the high jumping scene. Also Eren, didn’t your brother talk about him?”

Zeke Jaeger.

“He mentioned that Levi Ackerman was injured, probably sidelined for life…” Eren trailed off, he looked pointedly at Levi’s casted knee. “Is that it?”

“So you are Levi Ackerman…” Armin said, a little more certainty in his tone.

“Wait, who’s this Levi Ackerman? Are you related to Mikasa?”

Levi shrugged. He didn’t know the best way to answer it either. Do I say distant relatives? He opted for a safe yet vague. “Maybe.”

The three boys didn’t ask anymore. The crowds exploded into cheers, and in their own little corner, the five of them fell silent as Mikasa made her way to the center and approached the starting line of the runway.

Levi quickly estimated the bar to be at 1.8 meters, too high for most high school students. So high that only two had cleared the height. And if Mikasa cleared it, that meant three people would be moving on to the 1.9 meter bar.

Or when Mikasa clears it. Levi corrected himself a second later as he watched Mikasa run to the take off box.

The crowd cheered as she landed. It had done little though to pull Levi back to reality. The cheers were merely fading background music as Levi replayed that jump in his mind. Everything from the run to the take off to the landing, everything from the smallest twist mid air had been seamless and Levi only noticed a second later his mouth had been wide open.

Mikasa wasn’t the tallest among the jumpers either, as if she relied as well on her own flexibility to get her through the bar.

“Levi, that’s how you used to jump,” Hange said. That had been enough at least to pull Levi out of his trance. “Now do you get how it felt to see you jump?”

Levi didn’t answer instantly. His first instinct had been to look back at the Youtube videos and the Instagram videos of himself Hange had shared to him a while back. He couldn’t have jumped like MIkasa. Back when he had watched his own videos, he never felt the goosebumps, or his hair stand up, or that sudden need to drop his jaw and leave his mouth wide open for a good few seconds.

But his view of Mikasa had been organic, it had been an experience, unmarred by camera angles, commentaries and video edits. Real life didn’t have video edits, and with his own first hand experience, he had the freedom and the convenience to continue to follow Mikasa, long after her jump was over.

He ignored the next two who had failed at the 1.9 meter height, completely eliminated. He had only surmised their own fate from the less than enthusiastic cheers from the crowd that followed each attempt. He continued to follow Mikasa, all the way until her second jump, focusing on the way her body curved so easily above the bar, the way her body twisted into a more comfortable angle mid flight.

As if she’s been flying her whole life.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have a champion! Mikasa Ackerman!” The announcer chimed. But they weren’t cleaning up yet.

“There’s one more event: the men’s event, then after that the awarding,” Armin explained.

Levi shifted his attention once again to Mikasa who was making her way away from the center.

Towards the audience. Towards the front row. Levi followed Mikasa s gaze, to see a familiar back profile at the front row. The man only stood up from his seat, making the situation all the clearer for Levi.

“Coach Greg is here?” Of course, he’d be here. He’s recruiting.

He didn’t look like he was successful at recruiting though. From his spot towards the middle of the bleachers, Levi could see the way Mikasa shook her head, the way she had given the most apologetic smile and the way she walked back to the bench where her other teammates were, looking completely unbothered by that rejection.

He’s recruiting Mikasa? Levi thought.

In reply, Coach Greg looked back at the bleachers. He caught Levi’s gaze almost instantly as if he had known Levi would have been there the whole time. Levi had trained with him enough to know what he wanted just by the expression on his face.

“Levi, where are you going? The men’s jump event is about to start.”

It had been months since he trained with him, but years of old habits were still hard to break. Before Levi even noticed it himself, he had scrambled onto his feet and maneuvered through the crowd in the bleachers.

*******

“I saw you enter the venue mid match. Honestly happy to see you watching tournaments again and I’m sure a lot of the fans are happy to see you too.”

If by happy, you mean gossiping. “Jumping is hard to completely give up,” Levi replied.

The two had settled on a bench, only a few meters away from the emptiest bleachers. The screams and cheers were still audible and sometimes, comprehensible. But there was still enough peace and quiet to manage a fair conversation.

“How’s your knee?”

“I’m sure you’ve talked to Erwin about it already.”

Greg grinned sheepishly at it. He dropped his shoulders with a sigh. “I was hoping he would have given you a better prognosis. He told me you were gone from jumping for good… I just thought…”

“My last season is over. You’re already preparing for regionals and I can still barely walk,” Levi said as he gave a pointed look at the crutches he leaned on the side of the bench.

“With physical therapy…”

“I can barely walk right now because of physical therapy. We were going too fast.”

“So anything after college might be impossible huh?”

“I’m taking this one step at a time. It was a painful experience. And with the extent of it, Erwin had told me multiple times even post surgery, it might never return to pre injury state. With the competitiveness of the high jumping scene… my height… I feel like these were all just signs to just move on from it all.”

Greg dropped his shoulders and shook his head. “You were something else though. I didn’t think someone of your height could have dominated the high jump. It was like your body knew the exact moments to get you through the bar every time. As if it was completely used to being mid air.”

“Maybe my body is just used to flying,” Levi said. “Maybe I was born and built for these types of sports. But I'm sure you're aware, no matter how inclined someone is to sports, careers don’t last forever. We all have expiry dates. And mine was just a lot earlier than others.”

“But you could have made the Olympics with your numbers.”

“But the accident happened and I don’t think I’ll ever achieve those numbers again,” Levi said matter-of-factly, so realistically it hurt even when Levi was sure he had long gotten over it.

“So, what are you focusing on now?” Greg asked, an attempt at digression.

“Studies, submitting my thesis, passing my last few classes…”

“Maybe when studies die down a bit, you can visit every now and then. After winter break is over, maybe you could even help get the new recruits up to speed.”

Levi raised one eyebrow at Greg. “You have one in mind?” Mikasa Ackerman?

“Mikasa Ackerman.” As if Greg had read his mind, he had repeated those same exact words with the exact same tone Levi had heard it in his head. “Are you two related?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“With the way you’re saying that, I'm guessing not close enough to talk to her.”

“Talk to her about what?” Levi asked.

“About considering Paradis University. She has that type of talent that only comes once every five years.”

“But if she’s committed to another university…”

“She’s not. In fact, she told me herself, she might not even go to university.”

“Why not?”

“She told me there was someone she didn’t wanna leave behind. You think you might know something about that?”

An all too familiar turn of events. Levi’s answer to his coach’s question had been a resounding yes. But he wasn’t telling him about that yet. ‘I’ll try to talk to her. Then I’ll see what I can do.”

The conversation ended soon after that with a quick promise to keep in touch. His coach hurriedly got back to the tournament and Levi found himself alone on the bench once again.

His knees ached, his arms were stiff from all the walking. And he decided for himself that a men’s jump event would not be worth the struggle of hobbling back to the bleachers.

*******

“There you are!”

Levi only had a few minutes of peace and quiet before it was interrupted by the familiar brunette who settled next to him on the bench. It had interrupted whatever trance he had gotten himself into. Either way, it was still a welcome sight. “You’re not watching?”

“I thought you went to the toilet or something but when you didn’t come back… I kinda realized you might have left because you didn’t wanna watch so I got worried. You wanna go back home?”

“I’m tired. So honestly, yes.” Levi shrugged his shoulders and did some test stretches. His body was aching from having maneuvered in crutches the whole afternoon. He could have sworn, he had reached well more than a thousand steps just walking the university, enough to expect an admonishing stare from either Erwin or his physical therapist.

“Well, we should be going back. We have to do some last minute packing since tomorrow is our last day.”

“Wait, before we leave. I was hoping to get some lead on Mikasa. I wanted to talk to her. Maybe after final exams or something.”

Hange gave him a cheeky grin. She held out her phone in an exaggerated manner. “That’s done already.”

“You got their contact details?”

“I had a pretty pleasant conversation with Armin, Jean and Eren, enough at least to get them to wanna keep in touch.”

“Keep in touch about what?”

“Thesis maybe? Future career prospects?”

“You’re meeting with a bunch of high school students?”

“Armin applied to Paradis University so there’s a lot to talk about and he said he could help out with my thesis. Besides, weren’t you the one who said you wanted to talk to Mikasa?”

“I’m doing my coach a favor.” Levi said, emphasizing those last words a little too much, he started to feel a little ridiculous a second later.

Hange raised one eyebrow in disbelief, only making Levi further regret attempting such a ridiculous lie. A smile played at Hange’s lips. “You know, I’m glad to see you’re reconnecting with your team again.”

Levi returned that smile with his own. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re reconnecting with your thesis again.”

*******

“I talked to the dorm. Scholars can get a good bed space for a cheap price, or maybe even free. You just have to sort out the paperwork, get some paperwork signed by your professor then the scholarship office. After that, we wait for approval. So, in the meantime, you could stay in a motel or something.``

“That’s the plan,” Hange said, her tone a mixture of despondence and exhaustion. Not too surprisingly, she was lugging boxes, lining them towards the entrance of the room as they spoke. “My parents are gonna pick up a lot of these boxes, probably put them in storage back home. And this…” Hange drops a purple suitcase in front of him. “Is all I’m bringing.”

“You’re serious about this huh?”

“Were you doubting it?”

Levi sat and stared at the luggage, his expression unchanging. “This just seems like a huge change.”

“This happens with everyone else anyway. I’m a senior in college. I’ll find a job, take out a loan then rent some cheap studio apartment just outside the city.”

“Studio apartments aren’t cheap, even if they are outside the city. Would you be able to afford that with the entry level income of one person?” Somehow, a part of Levi was still hoping Hange would make amends with her parents. Despite her having proven multiple times she was sure with her decision. She seemed happier then, more confident, more free. But at what cost?

“Then I’ll get a roommate,” Hange said.

“That’s a reasonable plan.” Levi said. “Well first things first. Fix those dorm papers, finish your thesis.”

“Thanks for the help Levi. Really, it means a lot.” From the firm determination of a while ago, Hange’s gaze softened to something else, something Levi had sworn he had only seen long ago, in another lifetime.

“You’ve done a lot for me too,” Levi said.

“You won’t be much help now since I’ll just be lugging boxes so feel free to just write or something until we’re ready to leave. Or you know, you could go ahead to your dorm. I’ll just contact you if I need to.”

“No, I’d rather stay.” Levi looked back at his laptop and opened his document. He had written a few words the night before as soon as they had arrived home.

Armin Arlert. Jean Kirstein. Eren Jaeger. Mikasa Ackerman. Connie Springer. Sasha Braus. Historia Reiss. The names had worked magic on the draft. With the names where they needed them to be, the story became more vivid than he had expected. He lost count of the amount of words he had written the night before, but he was sure he had added at least five pages.

And his head throbbed at that moment as he scanned through the file, reminding him of how much sleep he had sacrificed to get it written. At the least, he had managed to understand what had gotten them to the point in the woods, he understood why it had been he and Hange of all people who stuck together.

They cared about the younger soldiers for sure. But they had been the only two veterans remaining.

And what did you ask me back then? Levi asked silently as he watched Hange move the boxes one by one, lining them along walls from one corner all the way until the entrance.

Hange looked as if she were in a trance. But if their eyes had met at that moment as he thought of the question, would she have read his face, would she have known what he was asking then? Probably not. But Hange was perceptive and she had made some good guesses on his thoughts a few times already.

Maybe we should just live here together? Right, Levi? Levi wrote those words, somewhere at the bottom of the page, under descriptions of trees, stars and a glowing campfire. He wrote under it descriptions of the pain of fresh stitches, half opened wounds and the beginnings of a fever.

“You know, Hange. There was a war. This anti military faction took over, and we ran away to the woods and ----”

“Don’t tell me!” Hange interrupted. She dropped one box on to the wall, much harder than usual. “I haven’t reached that part. I wanna enjoy your story.”

“Sorry.”

Hange approached him and sat next to him on the wall by the window. Her voice was much softer as she spoke up again. “No need to apologize. I just wanna be in the best mood when I read it. Maybe I’ll catch up after final exams before winter break,” Hange said. “Besides last time I checked all you had were unfinished sentences and bullet points.”

“It’ll be finished way before then.” Even as he spoke, he was typing and Levi found himself marveling at his own ability to keep two conversations at once.

“Really? Don’t you have studies to deal with?”

“I know how it’s gonna end already.”

Hange gave a hum of approval. “Then I’ll hold your word to it. I look forward to reading it then.”

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us… I know you’re not able to stay out of the action.

Levi had ended up writing those last few lines to the disturbed rhythm of the thumps as boxes were dropped one on top of the other.

Yeah. That’s right. I can’t. He capped off that final paragraph with Hange’s one final response. Even fully wide awake with the afternoon sun illuminating the well ventilated condominium, even with the sound of the traffic down below only made louder by the windows left open, Levi still saw her, so vividly as if she were a dream. He memorized her face then, everything from the way her brow knitted, her forehead puckered. The way her glossy eyes showed nothing but a faded glimmer.

Yet it was a glimmer and in that, Levi saw desire. A desire for something else.

And then what happened? It couldn’t have ended there. He had filled in many of the gaps himself already. He had already found the missing pieces and pushed them into place. The story had ended so anticlimactically though and Levi found himself scraping the recesses of his mind for anything he may have missed, a futile attempt.

And maybe it was futile because Hange had interrupted him a second later. She had his two plump overnight bags slung over her one shoulder. She turned her chin slightly towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”

Levi pulled himself up from the window sill. “Give me one of my bags. You shouldn’t be carrying all that.”

“You shouldn’t be carrying all this,” Hange argued, looking pointedly at his leg. “Let’s go.” She went ahead, not looking back. Along the way, she had stopped, gesturing for Levi to make the distance towards the door and out into the hallway.

Levi looked back at her to see she was still standing at the entrance leaning on the door frame, leaving one hand on the open door swung inward. She made no movement, no explicit intention to leave just yet. He felt no need to hurry her either. Moving out was no easy task after all.

“I know you don’t like messes Levi ” Hange spoke up, her voice once again the lifeless drawl that never failed to hurt Levi even a bit.

“Really?” It was obvious, Levi had acknowledged that he had hated it. But he never remembered explicitly telling Hange about it. He was lodging in her place for free after all.

“You wrinkle your nose every time I leave something lying around. And you don’t think I noticed the way things magically cleaned themselves while I was away?”

“If you don’t want to, I won’t. I’m sorry about that.”

“No, I appreciate it. I think you did a lot of good for my space. Honestly, I’m more sorry that I couldn’t provide you anything cleaner…” Hange trailed off. It seemed like she was ready to say more. She looked back at him and took a deep breath, opened her mouth but stopped herself midway. ”And for a while I was a bit self conscious about it but I think I get it now.”

“Get what?

“I get now why I like messes and clutter. And I guess I just wanna point it out now, so maybe you’d understand?” Hange moved away from the doorway and out into the hallway. “Look, it’s clean.”

It was easy for Levi to put the scene of her condominium from a few months ago and the scene in front of him side by side in his mind. There were too many things he could have pointed out at once though. The room in front of him then, was much larger and more spacious than Levi could have ever imagined, especially with the boxes all lined up towards the wall. It was immaculate, any other day he could have used the picture of the room as a blank slate, something to calm him in between stressful situations.

But side by side with the room from weeks ago, hell back to the room months ago before he had started to stain it with his own brand of cleanliness, Levi wasn’t thinking of words like clean or immaculate.

It feels lifeless. But he wasn’t telling her that. Not just yet, when the fastidious side of him was still trying to process such an opinion borne out of his cleanliness-loving mind.

It was as if Hange was giving him no time to process though. “Do you get it though? Why I like my rooms with a little clutter?”

Levi gave up on processing, instead submitting to whatever tirade was coming out of Hange then.

And she was getting a little more emotional and a little more attached as she spoke. Because when everything's scattered everywhere, I always feel like I’ll have to fix it soon right? And when I have to fix it, I’m reminded that I’ll be coming back. But now…”

Levi jumped at the crack in her voice. He went forward and closed it, and it had felt like ripping off a band-aid. “Let’s go Hange.”

“I don’t have anything to return to now. It’s gonna be dorm and motel hopping until I get a job and can afford to find a new place,” Hange continued.

The two walked towards the elevators. Hange had kept her strides so slow and steady it had been a little too easy for Levi to catch up. With that, he had a little more time and space to reflect, come up with something more comforting than ripping of a band aid.

That part was easy at least. “You don’t have to have anywhere to return to.” Levi spoke up. “I think, what’s important is that people have someone to return to...”

“‘Someones’ like that are hard to find.” Hange looked at him. Then, Levi had a good view of her, her eyes glistened with what looked like unshed tears, the lines under eyes only told of pent up exhaustion, an all too familiar expression, almost a reflection of Hange that night in the woods.

It had been too easy to assume he had heard those same words as she looked at him expectantly then.

Maybe we should just live here together? Right, Levi?

But that wasn’t the time for a yes nor was it a time to echo the invitation or the words she had mentioned right there in the forest. It wasn’t a time either to tell Hange what had happened in the woods many a lifetime before.

But Levi still spoke up, his own reply tweaked for that situation alone. If he had been any more aware, any more hesitant, he would have pulled back, discouraged already by the many other arguments his mind was able to conjure.

She doesn’t remember about that time in the woods.

She’ll think you’re crazy.

Aren’t you comfortable with where you are already?

He clocked it then as a risk. A risk he was still very much willing to take. It came out of him as something spontaneous, as an explosion inside him raring to go out despite all the doubts glomping down on him.

It had been powered by something, that was for sure. But was it frustration? Regret?

“You know Hange, if you don't want me to, I won't leave. I’d gladly stay here by your side. ”

He didn’t think too much of the motivation though, what mattered was that it did come out. And in its own way, it had left him a little lighter, and maybe a little relieved.

*******

“So what happened after?” Shela asked soon after she had scrawled another few words on her clipboard.

Levi shrugged. “That’s it. That’s how the story ended.”

“Really? With a half confession in the woods? You didn’t even say yes.”

Levi had spent the past week since they moved out of the condominium trying to write in between fixing paper work for Hange’s move to the dorm, cramming school assignments and studying for finals that was looming in the month ahead. He would have loved to blame his inability to write on his shitty schedule.

But I had more than enough time to write. He had at least an hour a night to write before bed. On good days, that had been more than enough to get something written.

“Is school getting busy? Physical therapy?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you write a more satisfying ending.”

“That’s how it ended.”

“With a half baked confession?”

“Captain Levi was suffering from wounds after an explosion. It’s a miracle he even lasted that long.”

“So you think he died?”

“Maybe.”

Shela looked out the window, her expression unreadable. “What if you two did run away to the forest?”

“That would have been a nice ending.”

“Then why not make that the ending?”

“Because that didn’t happen.”

Shela shook her head in disbelief. “This doesn’t seem believable to me. Please try to continue writing.” She turned his laptop back to him and Levi found himself blankly staring at the open google document.

And the more he stared, feeling Shela’s observing eyes boring into him as he did, the more he realized how ridiculous that last sentence was.

I know you’re not able to stay out of the action.

It sounded like the awkward dialogue that preceded a horribly placed commercial break or ad, something Levi would have scoffed at as any other viewer or reader.

“But it’s not like I’m sharing this to anyone else,” Levi said.

“You’re sharing it to me and I’m not satisfied. There should be more to this.”

Levi looked up at Shela and back at the document a few times before deciding on his next plan of action. Shela’s glare was uncompromising and she didn’t look like she would take no for an answer. The document in front of him though, that tiny blinking cursor on the screen was calling to him, the bottom part of the page was blank.

And maybe there was something, albeit little, that can be done flogging a horse that was just almost dead. There were still a few more lines of dialogue that made its way to the pages and Levi was surprised he had enough of that clearly etched in his mind for it to so easily flow into the pages in front of him.

Shoot or listen. It’s up to you.

The last few lines had all been dialogue. But as he turned the laptop back to Shela, the latter seemed at least willing to accept that. “This still looks a little too abrupt...” she commented “ You sure this is how it ends?”

“Captain Levi could have gotten shot. Maybe he died.”

Shela dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Progress is still progress. Do me a favor and please think long and hard about what happens next.”

“I really think it ended with the conversation in the forest.” Levi turned the laptop back to himself, closed the window and shut down his laptop. “But I can try to get something else written out… Maybe a few more scenes?”

“Don’t try." Shela gave Levi a knowing look. “I want you to do it.”

And that look bore holes into him, Levi could have sworn she was a mind reader with the way she followed the laptop with her eyes as he placed it back into his bag. He wouldn’t have been too surprised if she could tell the contents just by looking through the hardware.

Levi had to admit though, what Shela was suspecting, was right. There was more to the story and these scenes nagged at him from the deepest pits of his mind, pleading for their own time to let loose.

They were terrifying though. They were unsettling and Levi was in no position to entertain them.

Not just yet.

Or maybe he never would. Maybe he would be happy never entertaining them again.

So maybe captain Levi died? Maybe they ran away in the woods? There were questions that had been echoed by Shela, questions that had been so easily answered by dreams that he had forced himself to forget soon after he woke up.

The complex emotions though, were very much answerable with a simple question, a simple explanation that Levi was in no obligation to expound on.

“But… Endings don’t have to be satisfying right? What if I just don’t wanna write anymore?”

[anywhozits]

A Christmas Announcement

Rating: T Words: 5172

Verse: Canonverse Pairing: Kristanna

Summary: Kristoff and Anna are excited to finally share the news of their heir-on-the-way with the Kingdom of Arendelle.

Notes: I wrote this last year and forgot to post it, but this is somewhat related to the Christmas fic I’m writing for this year so wanted to get this out before that one! (at least it’s in the same verse and has similar themes, hah) Anyway hope you enjoy and happy holidays!! Thanks for reading :)

READ ON AO3 HERE

The day was Christmas Eve, 1843. A couple years ago, the whole kingdom of Arendelle began celebrating together at the castle’s now officially annual Christmas ball. Something that Anna had begged Elsa to start since the great freeze ended and the doors to the castle became permanently open. It had taken awhile, but finally Elsa caved to her sister’s wishes, likely only partially due to years of internalized guilt for pushing her away, and the ball quickly became one of Anna’s most anticipated nights of the year. Now with Anna as Queen, the tradition continued.

The entire ballroom was filled with glittering decorations, tinsel adorning the sturdy wood beams. Buffet tables sat lining almost the entire left side of the room, filled bountifully with food to feed the whole town and then some. Lefse, lutefisk (the bane of child and teen Anna’s existence), farikal, pickled herring, kjottkaker, salmon, whale steak, sheep, all the traditional favorites. And that, of course, didn’t even including the two tables of desserts and pastries or the sprawling drink selection. A massive 12-foot Christmas tree stood proudly in the right corner of the space, decorated with great care by Anna and Kristoff themselves. Year after year, Anna always insisted she didn’t need any help from the castle attendants, only a few ladders and a few hours of time alone. She always pulled through. The tree—her pride and joy. This Christmas, Anna had also taken the time to pick out hundreds of presents for the Arendellian children and children-at-heart. Kristoff even did some woodworking for the occasion. Highlights included hand carved rocking horses, rolling reindeer on a string, and building blocks. They couldn’t wait for those presents to be torn open by frantic hands, truly cherishing the visual of children playing for hours on the sweeping ballroom floor, both King and Queen watching misty eyed as they imagined their own child playing along next year. A new tradition.

They had hired both a 5-piece band and a choir to make sure that the ball was not lacking in festive music and thus not lacking in dancing. The choir had kicked off the party singing Christmas songs in perfect harmony, the music floating through the castle, making the previously cold stone walls feel more comforting and protective. Guests had started arriving, smiles plastered on each of their faces as they ran through the open castle gates, eyes wide in childlike awe when they entered the ballroom to see the most elaborate Christmas ball yet.

But two people were thus far missing from the party.

Kristoff knocked softly on his and Anna’s chamber door before letting himself in. He saw Anna, dressed to the nines in a green velvet gown topped with white ruffles that hugged her shoulders. Her upper chest was left bare save for a three-layered pearl necklace, an early Christmas gift from Mattias. The sleeves gaped open, lined by white fur that Kristoff knew felt as soft as it looked. Her hair laid atop her head in an intricately braided bun, her gold and emerald crown placed perfectly in the middle, always bringing out the brilliant green that usually hid within her typically cerulean eyes. Kristoff could only think one word. Radiant. Anna was radiant. Sincerely, Anna sparkled. She always sparkled. But something about walking in on her like this, dressed for the ball, so majestic in every single way… made Kristoff feel as if he might cry for the love that grew and blossomed within his heart. A love so permanent… a love so unyielding that he felt it with both a fiery passion and a patient comfort. He took in a breath. Regarding her magnificence for a second time. Her gold shoes sparkled in the candlelight, heels subtle enough to allow her to dance for hours but tall enough to allow her to kiss him without getting on her tip toes. His eyes floated up to her dress yet again. Even though the gown cinched at her waist, Kristoff swore he could make out a little bit of the swell that was their growing child. He took in another breath. She looked ravishing. How could he be so lucky to call her his wife?

But Anna paid no mind to Kristoff, not then. She was looking in the mirror. Frowning. Frustrated.

But still so beautiful.

“Anna, honey, are you ready to go downstairs? The doors are open, and people are flooding in… I think even Elsa and Honeymaren are already here.” Elsa was finishing up the ice sculptures. Her only task this year, something that made her beyond thankful.

“I’m almost ready! I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t feel right. But I can’t put my finger on why.” Anna twirled around in front of the mirror. “The only thing keeping me chugging along is the promise of lots of food. I’m starving.”

“Yes—that was the journal entry for this week. Ravenously hungry. Insatiable I think was the word I used.” For Anna, eighteen-ish weeks pregnant meant the constant desire to stuff her face with literally everything she laid her eyes on. It was like she had this itch that could never be scratched. A deep hole in her stomach that could not ever be fully filled. But the most unfortunate part was that she somehow had recently begun to crave lutefisk. Lutefisk. The food she would have to plug her nose to eat as a kid. Clearly pregnancy made her leave logic at the door. Kristoff sauntered up to her and brought her in close, wrapping his strong arms around her frame, resting them gently on her mid-section, hooking his chin over her right shoulder and kissing her softly on first her shoulder and then her neck and then her cheek before settling back into the crook of her neck. He smiled. This was pure bliss.

Anna entangled her fingers with his own, both resting on her belly. She sighed. “I swear I could eat literally all of Sven right now and only feel a little bit guilty.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kristoff laughed into her shoulder.

“I’m starving!” Anna pouted, but then Kristoff kissed her neck again softly and she shivered. Too distracting.

“Well, I know for a fact there’s a lot of food in the ballroom if you want to get a move on…”

“I want to, I really do… but. Still. I’m … you know what? I think I know what it is,” Anna said, pulling away from Kristoff suddenly. “You know how a few weeks ago I had to switch to the maternity corset? Because I really uh—popped out that one morning and couldn’t fit into my old one anymore even with the laces practically undone?” One midwife had even said that Anna looked much bigger than what women usually did at this point in pregnancy. Something that she said could mean there was more than one baby on the way…Anna and Kristoff were far too thrilled with that possibility but had mutually decided they didn’t want to get their hopes up if it didn’t come to fruition. Their baby coming into the world already with a friend… already decidedly not alone. It felt almost serendipitous to Anna, but she still refused to think of it more than fleetingly. So for now—one baby. Singular baby.

“I remember,” he said.

“Well, I hate this thing. It’s so … constricting and it hurts and I can hardly breathe let alone gorge myself with disgusting and foul and gross but somehow still super satisfying lutefisk. Like do you really think this is good for the baby?”

Kristoff shook his head. “Probably not—”

But Anna was on a roll. She bulldozed through the answer he gave to her likely rhetorical question. “I know it’s not breathing or anything right? But … it kind of feels like I’m squishing the baby or something and knowing it’s yours and everything it’ll probably be massive so needs lots of room to… get that way. Oh wait no I can’t think about that. Oh God. Massive. Get that image out of my head please. Too big to come out of me and the pain and owwwww.”

Kristoff stepped closer to Anna and hugged her close, stroking comforting circles on her back. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. She whimpered. “For the record, I don’t think I was too big as a baby. Although, you know… I don’t remember.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Very helpful.”

“I do have some chocolate to tide you over, though. That’s helpful, right?”

Her eyes lit up instantly, nodding her head in ferocious fervor. “Yes, yes, yes. Super, super helpful. Very helpful. The most helpful of all helpful!” Kristoff reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out maybe six truffles. Anna ate them in a flash. “God, these are so good.” Then she frowned again. “But I can already feel my corset getting tighter! And, you know what? What’s it all for, hmm? So I can better hide I’m pregnant? Yeah that’s right I said the word. So, what? You know, it’s really grating to me that something that really deserves to celebrated is instead something that needs to be … hidden away. Like the expectation for a queen is to be prim and proper and ladylike and pure or—whatever…while also producing heirs upon heirs. So, what happens when the very thought of being ‘with child’ comes with this implication that you’re not pure? Even though obviously I mean it’s way more concerning if you’re married and still pure, right? And I know I’m saying this about royalty and everything but that’s just my situation. Generally it’s definitely not just for queens. This is any woman. The expectation of any woman.  Nobody cares if men are pure. So they’re just producing heirs or kids or namesakes? … left and right and it’s all fine and dandy. It’s just ... really frustrating. And this stupid corset is like the physical proof of this horrible thing and it’s really making me…so—angry.” Anna let out a long breath. It felt good to get all that out. It truly had been building upon itself in this storm of emotions for the last couple weeks. Constantly growing until this moment.

“You know you’re the Queen, right?”

“Uh—yeah. Pretty sure I just talked a lot about that in my little speech.”

“Yes, right. Yes. But I mean… you’re the Queen.”

“Yes, I know. What’s your point?”

“Well, you’ve got the power, baby,” Kristoff said. “Show them how it’s done. You can … make a decree or—or something. Or you can just lead by example. I’ll support you, Anna. You know I’ll support you. And I agree with you, too. The whole thing’s pretty ridiculous. And definitely not healthy for our massive baby.”

Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “Not funny.”

“Take it off, baby. Off with the maternity corset.”

“I want to … but then people will be able to tell, right?”

“You really think they don’t know? Let me ask you this. Truly—how many people do you think are actually in the dark?”

“Uh—I don’t know. Maybe … four?”

“Exactly! Don’t feel like you need to still hide it. The whole castle has known for a long time. You were wearing the maternity corsets! Someone had to make that for you and you know your maids knew right away. Word is out, Anna. We just can’t be open open about it yet. Soon … but you don’t need to hide it. You shouldn’t hide it.”

She contemplated his words for a minute or so before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thanks, husband. You’re the best listener.” He grabbed her hand and gave her a quick twirl, already preparing for the dancing he knew would take up most of his night.

“Always, my sweet love.”

“Now help me get this thing off. Right now. Please.” Anna turned so her back was to him. His large hands wrapped around the velvet buttons of her dress, undoing them at an unparalleled pace. Soon, the dress dropped to the floor and Anna stepped out of it, only standing in her off-white corset and bloomers. The maternity corset had a slightly different shape, dipping lower to cover her entire stomach, and had two extra sets of laces, one on each side that supposedly allowed for more breathing room and expansion along with a growing belly, but Anna disagreed. It felt just as constricting as her usual corset. She jumped in front of Kristoff again. “Off, off, off!”

He obeyed again, large hands undoing the laces but moving closer as he did this, planting periodic kisses on her shoulders. His mind instantly shot back to the first time he unlaced her corset. Years ago.

The beginning of their … exploration was too hurried. They so rarely got time alone and took it whenever they could … wherever they could … as fast as they could. There was never time to take off any clothes. Dress scrunched up her waist, drawers and breeches pushed down to their ankles was the name of their game. But eventually they got bolder. They snuck around in the middle of the night… and in those stolen moments in the moonlight, they had more time. Kristoff remembered ripping off her dress, throwing it into the corner of her room. Turning his attention to her undergarments, working his hands around the laces, trying to figure out how to make this as swift as possible. He smirked. “Is this appropriate?”

“Of course not,” Anna giggled. Kristoff planted kisses on her bare shoulders and then her collarbones. “But when have I ever been concerned with what’s appropriate?”

Kristoff smiled again at the memory. When he finally shot back to reality, he saw that he was almost done with the laces. He pulled the last few and threw the corset far away from them. It landed with an air of dramatics on her dressing partition.

Anna sighed in relief. “God, you’re so much faster at this than my maids.”

“Years of practice paired with years of … urgency.” Kristoff said, smirking.

It had taken him much longer than he felt comfortable admitting to take that corset off that first night, but since then he’d figured out a foolproof strategy.

She turned around to give him a deep kiss. “I’m free. Thank you.”

Kristoff inhaled sharply. She was even more magnificent like this, ballgown tossed to the side.  He brought a hand up to cup her chin and his other drifted down to her stomach. He gave it a rub and she kissed him in response, giggling slightly. “You’re radiant, baby. So beautiful.”

“You really think so?”

“You take my breath away,” Kristoff said, meaning it truly and genuinely from the bottom of his heart. Anna beamed at him, feeling both unparalleled awe and unparalleled respect boiling deep within her soul. She regarded him now. The way the left side of his smile cocked up more than his right, sending him into an eternal mischievous smirk. The way his brown eyes always somehow teemed with an unusual mixture of curiosity and warmth. He was her rock. Her ocean. Her world. And she knew that the same was true for him. She was his rock. His ocean. His world.

Anna tried to put all of those feelings into words. “You—I need you to know that you’re—uh—perfect, Kristoff. Really perfect.” She used this word a lot. He doesn’t like it, he said. It’s not true, he said. He has his flaws, he said. But to Anna, even his flaws were perfect. So, he was perfect.

Kristoff smiled again. Mischievous still. But happy. Pleased. Tonight, he wouldn’t argue with her. He placed his hand on Anna’s swollen belly, rubbing gently. “I like this. Baby is free to be massive now.”

“Oh, shut up and help me put my dress back on,” Anna said through a laugh. “Might be a tough task since my waistline has expanded probably five sizes.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” Kristoff said, pulling desperately hard on either side of her dress before he could button them together. Eventually, he managed. Sure, the button stretched a bit and it threatened to pop off, but he thought maybe it would hold. At least for that evening.

“How do I look?” She gave him a twirl, settling in closer to him and cupping her belly slightly. She loved showing it off. The exciting proof of their future. Of what would come in May. “Ugh. I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore. This is awful. How I lasted this long—it’s torture! Kristoff! Encourage our little one to make its presence known. Please, please, please.”

He smiled at his wife, dropping to his knees. Rubbing circles on her belly and planting gentle kisses all over before pulling away slightly, both hands still resting on the swell. Kristoff leaned in closer again and whispered, “Hey, little one…your mama and papa love you so much and want to tell the whole world how much we love you so we can celebrate you and love you publicly and—can you stretch out for us or move your little arms and legs or something? Mama and Papa are here for you, watching you grow… loving you…” He kissed her belly again. “We love you, little one.”

“Aww, Kris. You’re so cute.”

He stood up slowly. Waiting to see if it worked. Not that it had in the past… but still hopeful. Nothing. “You ready to go?”

“I’m ready to eat if that’s what you mean.”

They walked hand in hand through the castle hallways, still bursting with the beautiful harmonies of the choir, and finally through the doors of the ballroom. Each and every Arendellian guest turned to watch the Queen and King, or Prince—whatever—consort’s grand entrance. Some even started clapping. Clearly the party was already considered a hit.

Anna noticed out of the corner of her eye that a few of the women had started whispering to each other, their eyes glued to Anna’s midsection. Maybe even saying four people didn’t know was an overestimation.

Come on, little one. Move.

But still nothing.

Instead, Anna’s stomach growled, and she knew she needed to get to the food tables. Pronto. She saw Elsa there, too, finishing up the last of the ice sculptures. A reindeer looking much like Sven perched excitedly by the pickled herring. Perfect. Two birds, one stone.

Anna bounded up to her sister first, skipping in an unbridled excitement. Unfortunately, this excitement was almost purely due to the promise of stuffing lutefisk into her belly which made her mind want to stage a rebellion against her stomach at the very idea. But she paid no mind.

Her fabulous sister, first.

“Elsa, I’m so glad you came!”

Elsa laughed. Remaining calm, of course. As usual. She stood tall as Anna collapsed into her arms. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your favorite night of the year.”

“Thanks for doing the sculptures, too. Everybody loves them,” Anna said, eyes drifting to the series of sculptures that adorned the space, catching a glimpse of a replica of her favorite snowman and smiling widely. “Especially giant Olaf at the dessert table.”

“That one’s my favorite to make.” Elsa took a step back, away from her sister by a couple paces. She took a moment to gaze intently at Anna, something that apparently had become the theme for the day, pursing her lips while deep in some train of thought. And then, suddenly, the corners of her mouth curled into a giddy grin. She closed the gap between them and whispered in Anna’s ear, “You’re glowing.”

Anna laughed. Elsa’s breath kind of tickled her ear. “I know, right?!”

“Is it weird if I say that I think pregnancy suits you?”

“Whoa, Elsa. That is way out of line. And you said the word pregnant? Shame on you!” Anna’s voice got dramatically low when she uttered the taboo word she didn’t actually think needed to be taboo.

Elsa blushed. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I’m kidding, Elsa! I agree with you. Will come in handy—you know—because we want lots of babies and everything,” Anna said. “I love the word pregnant, too. It’s so much easier and less awkward than the whole with child or in the family way nonsense. Like talk about beating around the bush. Jesus.”

“You hungry?”

“Oh, God yes. Thanks for reminding me.” Anna turned, reading to make a beeline for the lutefisk. But then she chuckled slightly and spun back to face her sister. “You’ll never guess what I want to eat, though.”

“Uh—herring?”

“Lutefisk.”

“Lutefisk? You—Anna—want to eat lutefisk?”

“I legitimately want to stuff twenty-five pounds of lutefisk into my mouth right now.”

Elsa laughed in pure shock. “You’re right. I never would’ve guessed.”

“I don’t know if it’s the salt or the disgustingly chewy yet soft consistency that’s getting me going, but it’s doing it. I’m feeling all tingly thinking about it.” Anna shuddered involuntarily How did that sound so good? Truly how? Repulsive. Lutefisk was nothing short of repulsive. “Can you help me fill some plates full?”

“I think your King already has you covered.”

Kristoff, goofy grin plastered on his face, approached the sisters with three plates full of lutefisk and potatoes precariously perched on top of each other. Somehow his left hand held two full glasses of mulled wine.

He passed her a glass of wine and one plate of lutefisk to start. “For you, my love.” He handed the other glass of wine to Elsa who graciously accepted.

Anna attacked the plate. Slurping down the fish in record time. Her face twisted in to some kind of combination of a gag and a smile. “Oh God this is truly horrendous.” Gulp. “Horrid. No…disgusting.” Gulp. “And so grossly…slimy?” Gulp. One plate down. Kristoff handed her the next one. “But also… man oh man does it really hit the spot.”

“I always liked lutefisk,” Kristoff said, taking a piece for himself.

Anna stopped what she was doing and shot daggers at him. “So this is your fault? Lutefisk and a massive … I swear we’re gonna find a way for the trolls to make you go through this next time.”

“You know you love it.” Kristoff smiled mischievously yet again. Taking another satisfied bite of the lutefisk.

Anna pouted playfully and grabbed one handful of lutefisk, flinging it directly into Kristoff’s face. “Trolls.” Another piece. “You.” And another. Kristoff had started opening his mouth to catch the pieces, swallowing in bliss with each successful catch and each delicious bite. “Next.” Anna tried to remain serious, but a smile was toying on her lips. Another toss. “Time.” The grand finale. Anna tricked Kristoff with a fake throw and tossed it into her own mouth instead. He furrowed her eyebrows and looked around, confused. Not having any inkling as to what actually happened. Elsa had started cracking up. Those two. Always getting up to some kind of ridiculous antics.

Anna couldn’t contain her laughter anymore and it came spilling out quickly to the point where she could barely catch her breath. She felt something like gas bubbling in her stomach and tried to calm herself, worried she had upset the whole peace of her body by gorging herself with food and then laughing too hard. But she didn’t have any burp in her… curious. Gassy without gas. Once she had successfully quelled her laughter, she started feeling it again. Gas … or bubbles … or butterflies teeming in her stomach?

Or…

OR…

OR!

Anna outwardly gasped. One hand immediately shot to her abdomen and the other covered her mouth.

Elsa and Kristoff both looked at her curiously, both cocking their head in the exact same way.

“Oh my God it’s happening!” Anna squealed, bouncing up and down so frantically that her mulled wine kept spilling over the cup.

They continued to look at her, confused as ever.

Both her hands rested on her stomach now. “It feels like… all of Elsa’s ice fireworks are going off in here!”

Now Kristoff and Elsa understood. Their eyes widened, they audibly gasped.

Still bouncing, Anna giggled. “Oooh tickly!”

“Anna?!” Kristoff ventured. She beamed at him and motioned him closer. He wrapped one strong arm around her and pulled her in for a hug, other hand staying low, secretly stroking her stomach.

She whispered in his ear. “Can you feel it? Can you feel our little one? At least…I think that’s what’s happening. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I mean gassy but—not gassy…” Plus, mother’s intuition? She just knew this was it. The Quickening. Finally!

He shook his head. “I don’t feel anything. But—I think that’s normal? I can…imagine it takes a while to feel it on the—outside,” Kristoff said, still close to her, hand still firmly on her belly. “But you feel it. Anna, it’s—wow. It’s real. This is happening. I’m so—I’ve never been more—this is the happiest I’ve ever felt.” He kissed her, passionately, on the lips.

“Me too,” Anna said as she pulled away, looking longingly into his fiery brown eyes. Another little flutter resonated through her and she giggled. Pressing her hand and thus Kristoff’s hand deeper into her stomach. “I wish you could feel it.”

“Someday.” He kissed her again.

“Screw the troll idea. You were right. This is so cool. Totally worth the lutefisk cravings.” Their laughter was interrupted by Elsa’s hands looping over both of their shoulders, hugging them tightly. Excitedly.

“Kristoff, Anna! Congratulations. Both of you.”

“Aww, thanks, sister,” Anna said, chuckling into her smile. Noting that Elsa’s cheeks seemed markedly more flushed and she wondered if the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “Wait.” Anna started bouncing again. So enthusiastically that neither Elsa nor Kristoff could keep holding onto her. “This means we can tell people! Oh my gosh can we tell them tonight? Can we, can we, can we?”

“How about right now?”

“Right now?” Anna’s voice cracked. “Right now right now?”

“Let’s go.” Kristoff held out his hand and Anna grabbed it quickly, forcefully. With all the intent in the whole world.

They raced to the small stage where the choir and the band performed. Their royal presence was enough to stop the singing mid-phrase, choir members bowing at attention.

“You don’t need to do that,” Anna said. “Your singing is beautiful, by the way. Thank you for being here. Uh—we just wanted to make an announcement. If that’s okay, of course. We can wait!” Somehow, Anna’s extreme giddiness was still manifesting as a constant and consistent bounce.

The choir singers looked at each other with what Anna perceived as knowing glances, and then nodded for the King and Queen to proceed.

They took center stage, Anna still bouncing, hand-in-hand. “Uh—hello, Arendelle! We wanted to take the time to thank you all for coming to the annual Christmas Ball. We hope you’re enjoying the food and the music and the holiday merriment! We are so happy this has become a tradition, and if I do say so myself, this might be the best ball yet. And not only because of—well, the ball… as of well—tonight, actually, Kristoff and I can finally announce that …” Anna took a moment to scan the crowd of eager faces. Maybe there were more than four who had no idea. “We’re having a baby!” Anna squealed and then screamed, raising her arm and thus also Kristoff’s arm into the air. Kristoff had also let out a few cheers. The crowd applauded, reaching a steady crescendo just as Kristoff picked Anna up and spun her around, giddily laughing, before bringing her face into his hands for a tender kiss. He then dropped to his knees in front of his wife, leaning in slightly, large hands now cupping her belly. Showing off her belly. Celebrating her belly. No more hiding. Just like Anna had wanted. He planted a tender kiss on the curve and the crowd cheered once again. Anna’s hands found their way into his hair and she ruffled it a bit, messing it up in a way she found exceedingly adorable. She turned back to the crowd, Kristoff still rubbing her belly in elation. “Baby Bjorgman is coming at the end of May!” Now Anna noticed a small corner of the crowd exchanging pieces of gold. Of course there had been some bets going on. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Kristoff stood up, kissed Anna once more, and then grabbed her hand, interlacing her fingers with his own. Anna took her other hand and cupped her belly, showing the crowd in more detail exactly how far along she was. Exactly. No mind games from any extra clothing. The buttons on her dress were still close to breaking loose. “Oh, and another thing! Maternity corsets are for the birds. It can’t be healthy to wear them all… tight and constricting and—” Without knowing how to control it, Anna shuddered a bit. So happy to be free. And safe. “Besides—let it all hang out, baby!” She did a little dance right then, shaking her rump and rubbing her belly. Laughter echoed throughout the crowd and then a whole conversation stirred. Anna hoped it wasn’t too judgmental… she didn’t want them to think she had taken anything too far.

But no matter. Kristoff was right. As Queen, she could make some rules. She could set some expectations. Even if not well received in the beginning, they could still hold weight.

Kristoff leaned in to whisper in Anna’s ear. “No more secrets.”

She smiled. Thank God. “Shall we celebrate?”

He nodded. “Let’s dance.”

The choir started singing again. The band joined in. The Holly and The Ivy, a Christmas classic. Merriment abound. Merriment all around. Although Kristoff and Anna took the lead, dancing alone for a few minutes, eventually more and more guests joined in. A little bit of Hallingdansen, a lot bit of pols, and the most bit of Kristoff taking advantage of the fact that the whole kingdom knew how overjoyed they were with the news of their growing family by essentially hardcore smooching in the middle of the dance floor. Their tongues had a good time dancing the Halling, too, and they paid absolutely no mind to the fact that all eyes were on them. Maybe the mulled wine was getting to them, too, or perhaps it was simply euphoria. Between the kisses, Kristoff frequently dropped to his knees to kiss Anna’s stomach or rub excited circles over the curves during the dances. Anna giggled each time, noticing that the flutters seemed to come in more enthusiastic waves when Kristoff’s hands or lips came in contact with her belly.

This felt good. To finally have the freedom to really celebrate. True bliss. True happiness. The best of all the past Christmas Balls. And they had a feeling no future ball could ever compare.

[ruewrites]

We’re Blooming Together Chapter 10: Confessions

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo, Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 4335

Warnings: None

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12

Asmo’s could hear his brothers whispering whenever they thought he couldn’t. Some part of him knew Mammon wouldn’t keep quiet about what happened. Not that he couldn’t. He could have, but this was coming out of a place of concern. Not that Mammon would have had to tell them anything. Asmo had spent a majority of time holed up in his rooms. Sometimes quiet sobs would escape his bedroom door, other times were spent in silent contemplation about what to do. His stomach had continued to tie itself up into knots, anxieties plaguing his mind. There was a chance that maybe Solomon liked him, but then the chance that he didn’t would immediately come to mind. He could stay quiet about the whole thing and have Solomon in his life forever, or he could tell him and risk the chance of ruining everything. But what if Solomon did return his feelings?  

Solomon’s hoodie stared up at him from the bed. Asmo knew he probably shouldn’t be looking at it when trying to make a decision. Hell, he’d barely been answering Solomon’s texts when they came in, sometimes not at all. He wasn’t even posting on his socials. He just needed a few minutes with a clear head, he needed Solomon to stop invading his thoughts just long enough to make a decision. 

A new letter hadn’t come in in a while either. Secret had been quiet. Honestly, it made this whole mess even more fantastic. Maybe he did have a stalker. That was a pleasant thought. Maybe they saw all of his pictures with Solomon. Maybe he would have to get Lucifer and Diavolo involved. Maybe he would have to go into hiding, maybe he would have to move all of his classes online, maybe he was putting Solomon’s life in danger. Maybe he should still accept them, put everything to a quiet agreement. They had said really nice things after all, or if they were crazy maybe it would keep Solomon safe. Oh he shouldn’t be thinking like this! His last relationship had been a complete dumpster fire, and now he was talking himself into walking straight into a nuclear meltdown. What was wrong with him? Why was he so complacent with these thoughts? He wanted to be happy, but right now the only happy scenario he could imagine was with Solomon, and he wasn’t even sure that was a possibility. All the while Solomon’s hoodie stared up at him, tempting him, and his notification rang out once more. Solomon was probably worried and that didn’t help anything at all!

Oh this situation was just wonderful! Everything was a mess and Asmo didn’t know which mess to start with first. It was too much, but how could he involve people without making an even bigger mess of the whole situation. Maybe he should have burned the first letter.  He should have agreed with Satan in the cafe when he said it could be bad. He shouldn’t have accepted all of the gifts. He shouldn’t have done this to himself!

….

But then he wouldn’t have felt nearly as wonderful as he had. It was the best and most loved he’d felt in a while. Had he ever truly been in love? Had anyone ever truly loved him? These were questions he didn’t like asking himself. They brought up parts of his behavior that he’d rather not acknowledge. Sure he had issues, all of his brothers had issues. That’s what happened when your parents abandoned you. Asmo just wanted someone that wouldn’t leave. He didn’t want to face that kind of betrayal again. For a moment he thought that Secret could be the one, that they would actually love him for who he was and care for him. Then Solomon started to fill that hole and Asmo stopped resisting.

I won’t leave you. Not in a bajillion years.

Not even a hundred billion?

Not even then!

Ever wonderful Solomon. Always there when he had family issues, when he needed help with assignments, when he was nervous or scared, when he had issues with his relationships. Solomon had kept his promise. He never left, regardless if things were good or bad. He still remembered all the times Solomon had come to get him out of the house after a bad breakup. He’d come into his room, help him get fixed up and offer to take him to his favorite cafe on the corner. If he was in a particularly bad mood he’d bring over snacks and they’d watch terrible movies together. They’d laugh until their sides hurt and rewind bits that were particularly bad just to laugh even more. Solomon knew him so well, he always knew what he needed.

…

He wished he could do that now. He wanted to call Solomon and ask for comfort. He wanted to forget everything and just watch a bad movie like everything was normal. But Solomon was part of the problem, and he couldn’t think straight about what he wanted to do if he was sitting so close to him the entire time. He needed his heart to stop trying to burst out of his chest whenever he thought about him.

Missing Solomon’s presence was something Asmo didn’t want to get used to. A life without Solomon was an empty one. He’d much rather be kept single for the rest of his life because of his brothers than lose Solomon.

 Speaking of his brothers, he hadn’t gotten a text about another stakeout in a while. In fact, his brothers had been relatively quiet about Asmo’s love life. That didn’t mean they’d been completely quiet. Every now and again he’d get a text that told him to open his door, or a quiet little knock. Oh had his brothers been wonderful to him. 

Mammon had bought some rather expensive bath bombs he loved. The ones that glittered and shined as soon as they hit the water, leaving the tub a sparkling mess.The bag they came in also contained bubbles, lotions, and other various items to make the perfect self care day.

Levi left a movie he heard Asmo talk about a few times, along with some games that he claimed helped him take his mind off of things when they weren’t going to great. He’d also left a list of recommendations of shows that he enjoyed and that Asmo might like too.

Satan had brought his normal drink from the cafe with a note attached letting Asmo know that he had all sorts of stories and gossip to tell him whenever he wanted to talk.

Beel had left his favorite cupcakes from the bakery down the street. The ones with cute little sprinkles and pink icing on top.

Belphie left one of his warmest, fuzziest blankets that Asmo ended up staying curled up in most of the time.

Each gift held a piece of one of his brothers. They all put their own twist on showing how much they cared. 

At least there was one place Asmo always knew he would be loved. 

His brothers could be annoying, and may drive him absolutely insane, but he loved them more than anything. They cared about him, even if it wasn’t always vocalized. They’d been through a lot together.

Asmo had a feeling Mammon had pseudo orchestrated the whole thing. After all, he’d seen first hand how upset Asmo had been Friday night.Sure he hadn’t seen the whole thing, but honestly he probably didn’t need to. Mammon was the second oldest after all, he had helped Lucifer take care of them all, even if he wasn’t always the best role model for them.

Perhaps this is why when he heard a knock on his door, he was expecting Mammon. Asmo was curled up in the fuzzy blanket and watching a movie. He’d given up a while ago trying to work on  his latest design. He’d been having a hard time finding inspiration among the mess of petals scattered on the floor. Part of him wanted all of those wonderful feelings back, even if it meant he’d be torturing himself. He reached out to pause the movie, blanket still wrapped around him tightly. He waited a few moments, and then the knock came again. Well, it looks like they wanted to come in. 

“Coming,” he said, plodding over to the door, tightening his grip around the blanket wrapped snugly around him. He forced one of his charming smiles to spread across his face. There wasn’t a point in making them worry more than they already were. This was his issue to sort out, it wasn’t his brothers’ fault he’d given in.

“You know you all-” Asmo couldn’t remember what he was going to say, the words died on his lips before they even had their first shot at seeing the outside world. His blood ran ice cold. This was something he’d forgotten about. Something he should have been equally worried about.

Lucifer stood before him, looking down at Asmo with an unreadable expression. Suddenly Asmo felt incredibly tiny, and part of him wished he was back in the bathroom at the party. “May I come in?” he asked.

Lucifer’s voice was smooth and completely unwavering, face refusing to betray emotion. Asmo was never surprised he became a lawyer, and he definitely wasn’t surprised by the fact that his name made people shudder. Asmo loved his brother, truly he did, but right now? Asmo didn’t know what to expect. So he nodded slowly and opened his door a little wider. Lucifer stepped inside and nodded at Asmo who shut the door quickly. 

One time when he was a teenager, Lucifer had caught him sneaking out. Asmo couldn’t place the feeling he felt back then, but whatever it was it was stirring up inside him once more. Secrets couldn’t be kept from Lucifer for long, Asmo had known that. Yet he had tried. He couldn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes.

“I heard you were upset,” Lucifer started, arms crossed, “Not that I needed to hear, it’s not hard to tell when you’re off.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just sorting some things out that happened last night-”

“So another person is involved.”

His voice went low. Asmo knew that tone. He’d heard it before. He’d heard it hundreds  of times before.

Asmo went quiet again. He didn’t want to talk about it. He really didn’t want to talk about it. He knew how Lucifer had gotten when he learned the truth about Asmo’s last relationship. Yes, Lucifer had always been protective and yes he got angry when one of Asmo’s partners made him upset. But his last relationship… He’d never seen Lucifer so angry. It terrified him. Lucifer had raised his voice, he’d looked so inhumane in that moment. He remembered having to talk Lucifer out of going to his dorm, he didn’t want to file anything against him. He didn’t want to see his brother get in trouble. Asmo hadn’t seen Lucifer for a while after that. When he had seen him again, he was scared to bring it up again.

Asmo didn’t want Lucifer thinking of Solomon in a  negative light, especially when it wasn’t Solomon’s fault. Solomon hadn’t forced him into having feelings for him, he just simply existed, and that’s what drew Asmo in. Everything about Solomon drew him closer. The way he looked, his intellect, hell even that nerdy side of him… Asmo loved it all. He just needed to decide if he wanted to keep that to himself or not...

Sitting down on the bed, Asmo kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Well, yes and no,” he said. Gripping the blanket tightly around him as a form of safety. How to tread around this subject with Lucifer… He glanced up at his brother ever so slightly, “I don’t think…. They don’t know that they’re involved in this situation.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Asmo thought he would have preferred he said something in that moment. He wanted a hunt or a clue to how his brother might react, instead he got nothing. Somehow that was worse. Lucifer now already knew more than Mammon, what could he say from here? How would he even begin to explain all of the letters? Where would he even begin? How to say it all in a way Lucifer would understand…

Hi Lucifer! You see I just got all these little love letters at school I didn’t tell you about because I totally thought that you might think this person was a stalker! Even though thinking too much about it, that makes sense! But nope. I wanted to live in my own little fairytale where everything was happy and going to turn out exactly how I wanted it to! Oh also? I projected all of these feelings onto my best friend who I’ve had a crush on for years! I thought he might actually like me back like that! Isn’t that funny Luci? Well, a girl kissed him at a party that you didn’t know about that Mammon and I went to and I had a mental breakdown in the bathroom. Now I’ve realized that he may not like me at all but I still have lots of feelings for him, and the letters haven’t come in in a while so I very well may  have a stalker! Solomon says he likes someone else, and not that girl, and I want it to be me, but it’s probably not. My life is going to shit and I don’t know what to do. Isn’t that funny Luci? Isn’t it?

Yes. that would go over perfectly with Lucifer. Lucifer who could do no wrong. Lucifer who was the head of their family. Nothing bad ever happened to him. Nothing. 

Asmo sniffled and sat down on his bed. No. No he wasn’t going to cry now. Not right now. Not in front of Lucifer. He couldn’t do that, it would just make him pry more.

“Asmodeus-” Lucifer started, then he stopped. He didn’t make a move towards Asmo, but he also didn’t back away. Maybe he would just leave. Take a page from the others for once and leave Asmo to process by himself. After all, it wasn’t any of Lucifer’s business right? Just like his relationship with Diavolo was none of his business. 

“I don’t need a lecture Lucifer,” he snapped. He wasn’t sure where that came from. Perhaps he was due to the overwhelming reality that was constantly swimming around him in this moment. “Listen, I know I screwed up. I know I let my heart get ahead of me. I know, I don’t need to hear it. I-”

Asmo felt a pair of arms wrap around him. It was a bit awkward, but then again affection and comfort hadn’t always been Lucifer’s strong suits. He tried, he really did. But even if he wasn’t always great at it, there was something undeniably soothing. It reminded him of when he was a child once more, and Lucifer was trying his best to fill the hole their parents left in their family. They’d taken Lilith and left the rest of them behind. Asmo still wasn’t really all that sure about what had happened, and Lucifer refused to talk about it. Asmo had vague memories of being held a little closer, a little tighter, for a few months after they left. All of his memories were vague and fuzzy but this… This was a feeling he remembered. 

“Why would you think any of that?” Lucifer asked, pulling away and making Asmo look him in the eye. Asmo wasn’t aware til that moment that anyone would look so stern yet gentle at the same time. Part of Asmo still wanted to look away, but at the same time he felt compelled to spill everything. 

Finally, he sighed and backed up. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until his body finally allowed himself to relax. How long had he been that tense? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, you were never the most approving of past relationships.You didn’t ever seem to like them,” he said.

Lucifer had never been rude to them in the slightest, but he also hadn’t been entirely warm with them either. Asmo could always feel him judging them, he knew he didn’t like them. Maybe that’s part of the reason why Asmo had kept quiet about some of his past relationships. Maybe Lucifer had known what they were like all along. Maybe he saw something in their eyes or the way they spoke. Or maybe it was how they all avoided Lucifer’s gaze. Thinking back on it, many of them always had something to say about Lucifer. 

Your oldest brother is kind of scary.

Yo Lucifer? What’s his problem? He kept staring at me.

I thought he was your dad with how he was acting!

Lucifer shook his head and let out a sigh. He was quiet, thinking over his words before speaking. “Well, I certainly feel justified in my disdain for them, they all ended for reasons that I don’t feel I need to bring up,” he said. He certainly wasn’t wrong, but it still made Asmo frown.

“Oh? So is that why you’re so judgemental?”

“No. Asmodeus I-” he stopped again and closed his eyes, “Asmodeus. You’re special. You truly are. I just want to see you treated like you deserve. Someone who sees how special you are.” 

Asmo was waiting for the catch, waiting for there to be more. But there wasn’t. Lucifer just stared at him. Waiting. Asmo brought his knees to his chest. This was uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable. He wished he was still putting up a front. One he could hide behind, but he couldn’t do that to Lucifer. No, Lucifer would know. He was too smart for any of this. 

“Are you going to stop hiding things from me now?”

He knew.

Asmo nodded deftly and swallowed. He reached towards his desk and rummaged through it for a minute. He didn’t need to. He was stalling, and he knew it. He’d just been hiding this all from Lucifer for so long. Of course he knew something wasn’t right, knew something was up. Lucifer knew everything that went on in their house. How Asmo would never know.  Despite everything running through his mind in that moment, the idea of Lucifer reading the letters filled him with absolute dread. His fingers caressed the envelopes. It was like a reflex at this point. Even if he couldn’t touch them, he could still caress their letters. He hadn’t even realized his hands were shaking when he finally handed them over to Lucifer. 

Lucifer examined the envelopes for a moment before opening the first one. “Are these the only things you received.”

“I got a few gifts from time to time. Just small things like chocolate or little toys.”

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning over the words carefully. When he finished, he folded it up meticulously and tucked it back into its resting place within the envelope. Then he would move to the next letter and start the process over again. It was an odd thing to watch. To Asmo, it seemed like Lucifer was treating this like a case more than Asmo bearing his secrets to him. These letters were personal, yet his expression never changed. Hours seemed to tick by and yet halt all together by the time Lucifer was organizing all of the envelopes into a neat little pile and handed them back to Asmo. 

“You said this other person doesn’t know they’re involved?”

“Well, yes-”

“Why?”

Asmo furrowed his brow, “Why?”

“Why don’t they know?”

Asmo swallowed a groan, “Maybe I don’t want them to know.”

“Go on.”

“I’m not one of your clients Lucifer. You don’t need to get every bit of information out of me,” Asmo said, shooting his brother a look, but he continued anyways, “Listen, maybe I just don’t want to ruin the way something is. Maybe I like the way things are. Maybe-”

Maybe I don’t deserve him.

Asmo stopped himself before the words left his mouth. 

Lucifer was silent for a moment, then a soft chuckle left his lips and he shook his head. “Oh, how I wish you still had that same mindset with me. You didn’t sneak around nearly as much as a child and you certainly didn’t keep nearly as many secrets from me.”

Asmo couldn’t help but pout. Lucifer was joking around! How could he be doing this. Lucifer should be grilling him right now! Lucifer should want to give him a lecture! Now Asmo was happy that he wasn’t, but still! He’d been so anxious about what Lucifer would do, only for him to tease him! Had all of his worry really been over nothing? Maybe he wasn’t too different from the rest of his brother’s after all. “All you can do is make a joke? Seriously?”

“Apologies. I suppose Diavolo may, unfortunately, be rubbing off on me.”

Asmo didn’t miss the soft smile that crossed his face. How lucky was Lucifer? He had someone who was vocal about how much he adored him, someone who would do anything and find any loophole just to see him. Someone who would do anything for him. Someone who loved him unconditionally. 

“It must be nice having someone like him, someone who adores you and loved you as much as him. I think he’d run around the world if you asked him to.”

“He is a rather persistent man, I don’t think he would have stopped asking until I agreed to go on a date with him.”

“How many times did he have to ask?”

“Three times.”

Lucifer softened for a moment as Asmo laughed. It wasn’t a surprise. Lucifer hadn’t dated much from what Asmo knew. He’d been busy with school and taking care of the rest of them. He hadn’t had time for romance. By the time he’d gotten into college and his post grad, Lucifer had gotten into a routine. A routine that Diavolo had been determined to break.  Lucifer and Diavolo were good together, they’d been close before they started being together. Honestly Asmo wasn’t sure when they started dating. All he knew was that Diavolo seemed to love his brother more than anything.

“I think he’s good for you,” Asmo said, “He’s so dedicated, and he loves you a lot…”

“He’s certainly something else,” Lucifer agreed, “I want the same thing for you, for all of you. I want you to be happy, even if you all don’t always believe it. I mean it when I say you’re special Asmodeus.”

Asmo looked down at the letters once more. Secret seemed to think he was special too. Maybe… Just maybe they had meant every single thing they said in their letters. The very idea made Asmo blush ever so slightly. Then he mind flickered to his ever dedicated best friend. Oh what he wouldn’t give to be lucky enough to be with him, just like how Lucifer was lucky to have someone like Diavolo.

Then Lucifer pressed something into Asmo’s hands, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked down, and staring back at him was another pink envelope, crisp and perfect with his name written on the cover. “You know, the funny thing about Diavolo is how persistent he is.  He took a chance with me, three chances actually, he’s incredibly dedicated,” he said, “Now, this doesn't mean I’m going to be easy on them, but I do want to see you happy. Only if this is something you’d want to do.”

Asmo was only half listening as he tore open the letter. His fingers stumbling and tripping over themselves to open it. Then he stopped and turned to Lucifer. “How did you get this?” he asked slowly.

“It was given to me, for you while I was at work. Barbatos had to page me down.”

“Then you know-”

“I promised I won’t tell.”

“Really?” 

“Diavolo made me promise not to tell. He thought the entire thing was rather romantic and adorable,” Lucifer smirked, once Asmo realized this meant that he wasn’t going to get the information he wanted, “Though, you should read it now, I do believe it’s time sensitive.”

Asmo nodded quickly and went back to opening the letter. He looked down expecting the usual gorgeous words scrolled across the page, but that wasn’t the case. It was hurried, as if Secret had been in a rush. The writing was shaky and a little uncertain, and the paper a little crumpled.

Meet me at Cradsbury Park at 7

I promise I’ll explain

I need want to see you

Please.

Your Secret

It wasn’t the normal format. But that didn’t matter. The blanket flew off of him and soon Asmo was scattering to get ready. He needed to fix his makeup and put something nice on. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind went to autopilot. Lucifer stood from his bed and straightened out his shirt a bit before walking towards the door. 

“You really should open your text messages Asmodeus. It’s rather rude not to. I thought you knew better,” before he left, Lucifer turned towards Asmo one last time, “Call me if you need me.”

Asmo was only half listening to his brother as he scurried around his room.

*****

Asmo stood in front of his door nervously. He could turn back. He could forget all of this. But he needed to know, or else he’d always wonder. He thought he looked nice enough, winter boots, a cute sweater under his jacket, one of his nicer pairs of leggings... At least he hoped  he looked nice enough. He tightened his coat around himself. Phone buzzing one last time in his pocket, Asmo opened the door and started his walk down to the old park.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Baby its Cold Outside (PART 10)

Bakugo x Reader

Barefoot in the Kitchen

Words: 2406

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

Moving was awful. You hated packing. You hated unpacking. You hated the weather. It was too damn hot. You hated everything. It didn't help that you were still feeling sick. You had gone to see a doctor after Bakugo practically forced you to, and they had run some test. You were expecting a call any minute now to discuss the results.

Bakugo had been so irritable the past few days. He hated moving just as much as you did. He wanted everything to be put away in its proper place as soon as possible and you were just slowing everything down. He had to go behind you and fix everything because he liked everything a certain way. He was trying not to yell at you because he knew you weren't feeling well, but then he would just get even more frustrated because he knew you were ill and he didn't know how to make it better. So he was grumpy and you were cranky and you both just needed a break.

After your apartment was compromised you both had decided it was time to move into a house. You were pro heros, you could afford it, so you moved into a nice gated community. It was a lot farther from work than you would have liked, but weirdly enough it was kind of close to UA. Maybe you’d go pay Aizawa a visit soon.  

You were in the middle of putting the dishes away (which you knew was pointless because Bakugo was just going to rearrange them anyways) when your phone rang. Giving you an excuse to take a break.

“Hello?”

“Hello is this Y/n Y/L/N?”

“Yes. Can I ask who is calling?”

“This is Dr. Jeong. You came into my clinic yesterday. I’m calling with your test results.”

You sighed in relief, “Oh thank god. What’s wrong with me doc and how do I fix it.”

He cleared his throat sounding a bit uncomfortable, “Well I wouldn’t necessarily say anything is wrong with you. And as for how you fix it... well I would say you should be fine in about eight months.”

You froze.

“Y/N you are pregnant. Congratulations.”

“I’m.. what? I’m Pregnant?”

“I take it by your tone you were not expecting this. But yes, you are pregnant about four to five weeks along I’d say. If you would like to set a follow up appointment I would be glad to refer you to an excellent colleague of mine who is an OBGYN.”

It took a while before you realized he was waiting for you to respond, “Oh.. uh yeah. That would be great. Would you mind emailing it to me. I’m in the middle of moving and I don’t have anything to write it down.”

“Of course. I’ll have someone send that over to you right away. In the meantime I would hold back on overusing your quirk. All that exertion isn’t good for the baby and is likely what is making you so sick. It’s your bodies way of trying to get you to slow down. Do you understand?”

You felt like a child be scolded for something you didn't even know you did, “Oh yeah of course! Had I known I wouldn't have been pushing myself so hard to begin with!”

“Well that’s all I have for you now. Have a great day and congratulations again.”

You sat there suspended in time for a while. You didn't know how to feel. On one hand you were really excited. You’ve always wanted kids, and you cant imagine doing it with anyone other than Bakugo. On the other hand. You’ve only been together for a little over six months and you don’t even know if he wants kids. You hadn't had that talk yet. Sure Zuko grew on him, but Zuko is not a human baby.

“Oi, what gives? You’ve been staring at that box of dishes for like five minutes.”

Your cheeks flushed, “Oh uh nothing! I was just trying to figure out where I should put the coffee mugs.”

He squinted his eyes at you like he didn't believe you, but he didn't push you, “Probably in the cabinet above the coffee pot... You know like most normal people.”

“Pfffft why didn't I think of that. Thanks Honey. What would I do without you!”

He kept looking at you like you had lost your mind, “Look I’m going to the store to pick up some stuff, is there anything you need while I'm there? And no, Ice cream is not an option... You’ve literally been eating it everyday and someone has to be the adult. You need real food.”

You bit your lip as you realized how dad like that statement was. “Okay Dad...” You giggled at your stupid little inside joke. Oh you'd be getting that ice cream. “I’m fine just hurry back,”

He kissed your cheek, “Try not to break anything while I’m gone okay.”

As soon you heard the door click closed you ran to the bedroom. You shuffled through boxes of clothes until you found a plain white t shirt. You knew Bakugo would get mad but you didn't care. He’d only be mad for a minute... you hope.

You took out a sharpie and wrote Big Brother on it.

“Come here Zuko! Come here buddy!” You slipped the shirt over him with little fuss. “Oh daddy’s in for a surprise when he gets home huh? Oh yeah we’re going to freak him out aren't we buddy?” You rubbed Zuko's head before going to your stomach. Oh this is so weird. Theres something growing inside of you. Like a little human is in there right now! A little Bakugo... oh shit, “Baby please don’t blow mommy up okay?”

You sat your pregnant ass down on the couch, deciding you are done with unpacking for the day. And no one can tell you shit because you’re pregnant and that’s just how it goes.

Bakugo retuned home and went straight to the kitchen to put away the groceries, “Y/N! Did you not do a single thing while I was gone? You literally asked me where to put the coffee mugs and then you just left them on the counter...”

You stood in the doorway to the kitchen, “Daddy’s home!”

He rolled his eyes, “I swear are you on something I don’t know about? You’re acting so weird. Since when do you call me daddy? We’re kinky but we’re not that kinky y/n.”

Just then Zuko ran in excited to see Bakugo, “And what the fuck is this?! That’s my shirt women. You cant go putting my clothes on the fucking dog! Have you fucking lost it?”

You went over and started putting the coffee mugs away while he leaned down to try and take the shirt off Zuko.

“Big brother? Fuck Y/N did you get another dog? We just finished training Zuko we dont have time...” You froze as you let him put the pieces together.

“Get the fuck out of here? Are you pregnant?”

You were too scared to see his reaction so you just nodded, continuing to put away coffee mugs. You leaned over to pick up a box of cutlery.

“PUT IT DOWN! Are you trying to kill me! You tell me you’re pregnant and then immediately attempt to pick up a heavy box. Put it the fuck down!”

You finally turned around to see Bakugo with tears threatening to spill out. He took your face in his hands, “You’re really pregnant?”

You nodded again, a tear slipping down your cheek. “Yes, I got the call today..” His lips crashed to yours.

You pulled back to look him in the eye, “So I take it you’re okay with that?”

He dropped to his knees and kissed your still flat belly, “Okay with it? I’m so fucking excited! Y/N we get to have a little mini you!”

You laughed, “Or a mini you. I’d be okay with a little Katsuki.”

He scoffed,  “I was a little asshole.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Was?”

He slapped your ass, “Just because you’re pregnant doesn't mean you can get sassy with me now.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, “Oh that’s exactly what it means. Now let’s go get that Ice cream you told me I wasn't aloud to have.”

He stood back up and kissed your forehead, “I dont know. Now that I know you're pregnant I feel like I should be cooking even healthier food. Only the best for my baby.”

“Katsu-”

“I’m kidding! Besides... I already got you ice cream.”

You kissed his nose, “You’re the best!”

He picked you up and placed you on the counter, “Is it weird that knowing you’re pregnant makes me want to take you right here?”

You bit your lip, “Is it weird that I want you too?”

Your sweatpants were practically torn off and within seconds he was pushing inside you. “Of fuck babe!” You didn't know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but you could have came right then and there. You were so sensitive.

He was so gentle which was so unlike him. He pressed his forehead against yours, one hand on your hip the other one cradling your neck. He left soft kisses all over your face and chest. It was so sweet. He took one of your breasts in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze which had you moaning, “I can’t wait for these to get even bigger.”

You huffed, “They're not the only thing that’s going to get bigger... I’m going to blow up like a balloon.”

He took you chin in his hand and gave you a fierce kid. “That just gives me more of you to love. You’ll always be the sexiest woman in the room to me.”

So that’s how you christened the kitchen. And then the living room. And then you tried to clean up and take a shower, and damn if you didn't fuck there too.

Now you were both laying in bed, completely naked, spooning and watching something on netflix. Katsuki’s hand rubbed lazy circles on your stomach, “You think I’m going to be a good dad?”

You took took his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers, “I think you’re going to be a great dad.”

When he didn't respond you elaborated, “I think you’re going to love our kid with a passion thats unmatched by anyone. Just like the way you love me. I think you’ll teach them to be smart enough to know the difference between right and wrong, and I think you’ll teach them to be strong enough to choose right every time no matter hard that might be. You’ll teach them to be brave and hardworking just like you.”

He nuzzled his head into your shoulder, “I don’t deserve you. You’re so sweet, and loving and.. and just genuinely kind. I know that’s what you’ll teach our kids. You’ll teach them empathy, compassion, and selflessness. I may teach them how to fight but you’re definitely going to be the one to teach them when to walk away. You’ll teach them to see the best in others and how to express their feelings in a positive way.”

“Sounds like a pretty damn good kid if you ask me.”

You didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling, “Well they’re our kid, of course they’re going to be awesome. Can you imagine if they go one our quirks? Or shit maybe some weird combination of the two? Unstoppable. Future number one hero material!”

You rubbed your stomach, “I’m just glad kids don't develop quirks until after they're born and a little older. Can you imagine a vanishing baby?! Or having to worry about the little nugget setting off explosions while they’re still in the womb?!”

He chuckled, “I remember my mom duck taping fire retardant gloves on my hands when I was little to keep me from setting things on fire. Little did she know she was just making it worse because my hands sweat so much worse in the gloves and made me explosion so much bigger.”

“Yeah you joke all the time about putting a bell on me but my dad actually would do that! Of course when I was little I could only go a couple feet but still, he was losing me constantly!” Bakugo was full on laughing now, “Well at least we’re not our parents right? We’ll be able to help them out a little no matter what their quirk is.”

His laughter stopped and you could tell there was something bothering him. “What if they’re quirkless?” You could hear the sadness in his voice. No doubt remembering all the years he bullied Izuku for being quirkless.

“So what? We’ll love them anyways. And when they get older we’ll tell them the story about uncle Izuku and how he wanted to be a hero so bad he practically made it happen.”

“What if they hate me? The way I hated my mom...?”

You turned around to see the worry etched into his face, “None of that now. They will love you! It’s hard not to.” You gave him a soft smile.

“Oh shit what if it’s a girl?!”

You giggled, “What do you mean? Just an hour ago you were hoping it was a little mini me.”

He ran a hand over his face, “Yeah well that was when I was imaging a little baby, maybe even a toddler. I’d love to have a daddy’s girl. But shit what about when she gets older? You’re beautiful! If she looks anything like you I’ll have to beat the boys off with a stick!”

“Or girls. You don’t know what she’s into...”

“FUCK! I’ll have to worry about everyone! I’ll never be able to sleep at night!”

You laughed, “Ah you’ll be fine. Maybe you’ll luck out and we’ll have a boy first. A little mamma’s boy”

He smirked, “I like how you say first. Insinuating that there will be more kids after this one. We’ll have our own little hero family...”

You gave his lips a quick peck, “Sounds like a great idea to me. After all we are pretty good at the whole baby making process by now”

He gave you a devilish grin, “Oh yeah, all this talk about baby making... makes me want to you know practice.”

[roswelldetails]

Episode 202: Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space - Details

EPISODE SUMMARY:

Liz (Jeanine Mason) is forced to put her latest experiment on hold after Rosa (Amber Midthunder) begins to struggle with her new life in Roswell. Reluctant to face the truth about his mother’s past, Michael (Michael Vlamis) turns his attention to helping Maria (Heather Hemmens), who is dealing with her own family crisis. Elsewhere, Isobel (Lily Cowles) agrees to join her mother for a day of spiritual healing to keep herself distracted. Finally, Rosa turns to Kyle (Michael Trevino) to learn the truth about what really happened the night she died. Tyler Blackburn and Trevor St. John also star. Lance Anderson directed the episode written by Eva McKenna (#202.) Original airdate 3/23/2020.

DETAILS:

Secret lab is in an Indian Boarding School that was shut down. The Air Force bought it. It's been empty for 40 years (i.e., since approx. 1979). Part of Alex's job is to monitor it.

Security was set up by Alex’s team. They follow orders and don’t ask questions. (But that also means other soldiers know about it.)

Max's password was password. 🙄

Liz lies to Rosa. "It was beautiful. The whole town came. Everyone joined in the rosario. Mom sang Las Golondrinas. Dad wanted you in a white dress but I insisted on your Live Through This t-shirt."

According to: https://blog.sevenponds.com/cultural-perspectives/tradition-spanish-funeral “Nine days after the death, the family holds a ceremony known as a “rosario.” It consists of candles, flowers, prayers and sharing memories of the person who has died. The rosario also takes place every year on the anniversary of the person’s death.”

Las Golondrinas

Rosa Nightmare #1… unclear when it started since it flowed directly from her on the couch, doing graffiti around town, seeing her dad. Assuming it starts when she goes to the Wild Pony, pours herself a drink, hesitates, and then Max appears.

Max and Rosa's exchange:.

"What are you waiting for? You have to stop Liz. Tell her she can't bring me back, Rosa."

"Why? Why don't you want her to save you?"

"I can't take it anymore. Just end it."

"They'll figure it out. They'll save you."

"I can't wait that long. It's like burning alive from inside."

"She's never going to stop trying."

"Then you have to stop her. Please!"

Rosa wants her sketchbook from the bookshelf in their room. (Later in the episode when she breaks in we see that the bookshelf is empty. Liz cleared out Rosa's things in 1x07.)

Rosa's old email everunclear@yahoo.com (90s music reference to the band Everclear).

Michael is experimenting by blow torching a piece of alien ship.

Apparently it was Lindsay (of Hank and Lindsay) that Michael made out with. Seeing as it's only been a month since Hank died (2 weeks passed in 2x01, Maria says in 2x02 that her mom has been missing for 2 weeks), and the big guy was pissed about Michael making out with her, she moves on pretty quickly!

Maria is meeting with a private detective.

Science babble! "Human tissue can obviously regenerate from stem cells. With the right methodology I could use your blood (Isobel) to make adjustments for alien physiology. I have to monitor exactly when cell degradation begins, down to the second. I can't miss it. Eight hours before I need to be back.

Michael is developing nanotechnology to make the transplant possible. "It's like replacing parts in a broken machine."

They harvested all of Noah’s primary organs. "I have his body parts in jars."

Isobel steals what looks like an empty syringe. But at the end of the episode she has the serum in it.

New brand of fake beer! (Last season it was always Copper black lager. Now it's Hunks and Heroes Lager! Broken bottles were on the ground in the cemetery, Wyatt Long is carrying a bottle at the beginning of the scene when he and Michael fight (which could tie him to the graffiti on Rosa's grave), and also has a bottle in front of him on his YouTube video.

Michael is holding a bag from Milikan Value Hardware Store.

Flint's report on Caulfield: "Shepherd Protocol was activated. Bodies were disposed of without incident. Local papers ran an item confirming that the long-scheduled demolition of the prison was a success."

Exchange between Jesse and Flint:

"Dad, I don't think we should have covered it up. People should know."

"Do you have any idea what would happen if we confirmed that alien specimens were once housed at Caulfield but are now suddenly gone? It'd be dismissed as fake news. Buried by a racist tweet within seconds. No, we need to make a bigger statement."

"'Cause justice can't be served until after disaster has struck."

"That's right."

Really don't want to transcribe the racist rant from Wyatt Long that Rosa watches, although I will if y'all demand it. I don't think it's relevant beyond Rosa learning the truth. However as a detail I want to note, the video is titled BUILD THE WALL! IN MEMORY OF KATE LONG and it's dated September 3, 2010 (so 2 years and a few months after they died). Amusing side note. The comments on the video. Great fake usernames:

fayhuman: Kate Long didn't deserve what happened.

Curious Murphy: I just donated to the cause!!

thecyberwitch48: is this really the best solution?

Isobel’s baby is at 5 weeks, the size of a lentil.

Isobel calls Ann "Mama". Good note for fic writers! 😉

Maria's class: "Woman as Warrior: Strength Training for the Mind, Body, and Spirit."

Under the Bridge - same location as in 1x03 where Liz finds Rosa's paint canister.

Maria's cards:

Maria DeLuca

Psychic Reader

Spirit Leader

Social Media Revitalizer

Great line: "The infinite reservoir of strength and healing within us all" 😂👏

Rosa's chart…

"What's this error here?"

"Must be a contaminated sample."

"No way. I'm meticulous."

Steph says regarding the error on Rosa’s test “Congrats. Looks like you just discovered a protein never before found in the human body. Or you didn't get the Flamin' Hot orange dust off your hands when you scrubbed in. Whichever's most likely."

Michael to Liz, "I was working. I went home to find formulas I worked out years ago…"

Rosa is reciting Niebuhr's Serenity Prayer, which is commonly used by AA and other 12 step programs.

Noah was struck by lightning directly in the heart.

Isobel’s moment of epiphany:

"Using your newfound goddess strength I want you to get up and throw your fear into the fire. Set yourself free. You're a warrior. You aren't afraid of anything. Draw upon your feminine power. Why are you hesitating, Isobel? The sooner you throw your paper in the fire the sooner you can leave."

"Look, it's not that simple, okay? I can't just throw this into the fire." Maria gasps and rubs her chest, similar to how she did when she realized her necklace was missing at the beginning in 1x10) "I'm trapped.

Ann: "This is my fault. I put too much pressure on you."

"It's nobody's fault. It's just here."

Maria: "Whatever it is, you can choose to set yourself free. Say it. 'Say I choose to set myself free.'"

"I choose to set myself free."

Maria: "Louder."

"I choose to set myself free."

Rosa breaks into the Crashdown. It mirrors her first nightmare in 2x01, but it's not a dream. She goes to her room, sees the empty bookshelf, goes to the closet, and snags a hidden bottle of tequila.

Camera lingers on Steph stuffing a bottle of nail polish remover in her purse. Note: she was actually doing her nails.

Michael and Alex's conversation mostly mirrors the information we learned from the file in last week's episode. She wasn't caught until October 1948 and the crash was June 1947. She was the last alien captured and admitted into Caulfield. Alex thinks people in Roswell might have known her.

Liz says that the accident never made sense to her because when Rosa was 12, Mamma Ortecho drove drunk with Liz and Rosa in the car, hit a bike, and flipped the car. Rosa told Mamma Ortecho that she would kill her if she ever drove drunk with Liz in the car again.

Rosa's tequila brand: Blistering Rose.

Rosa’s 2nd Nightmare: Rosa runs into the cave and starts beating on the pod. When she hits it, it sounds like metal (which doesn't seem like it would make sense given what we know about the pods).

Her conversation with Max:

"Leave me alone, you dick!"

"I am so much pain, Rosa."

"Oh really? So is everybody. Man up."

"Have some mercy. I saved your life."

"My life is gone. My mom bailed, I can't talk to my dad, my entire town hates me, and my sweet little sister is somebody that I don't even know. But I do know that she'll save you. She's gonna fix you and until then, leave me alone."

"I'd Liz won't stop then you have to do it. Go to the pod, pull me out, and walk away. You won't be killing me, Rosa. I'm already dead."

"I said no. Leave me alone."

"As long as that handprint is on you I can reach you."

"Fine. I'm an expert at quieting voices."

"No. Rosa, wait. Don't do anything stupid."

"I never dreamed when I was using."

MUSIC:

1. Oasis "Wonderwall"

2. Gord Bamford "#Rednek"

3. Hamish Anderson "Trouble"

4. Radiohead "High And Dry"

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

thank you! i think you're genuinely the only person that has ever said they actually like the fact that my bathrobe is obnoxiously pink. and you're absolutely right, one of the things i like most about it is that it hurts people's eyes. i love it actually. if you ever celebrate halloween you should absolutely add your bathrobe to your costume. an amazing idea. since it has a mouse face on the hood it could be two costumes rolled into one - both a vampire and a mouse (if in the middle of the evening you get bored of one), which i think would be awesome. and you probably wouldn't get cold (is it cold in nz during halloween? because here it almost always is). we don't celebrate halloween in lithuania either though. which i'm a bit bummed about, because halloween sounds super fun. mostly because of the dressing up! but i did celebrate it once, when i was 11 or 12 maybe? me and a couple of friends decided it would be fun even if it's not really celebrated here. so we dressed up, even went trick ir treating (half the houses had no idea what was happening and also i pretty much froze to death because i was dressed as a dead bride and refused to put a coat on because then you couldn't see my dress) and also watched horror movies. 12 (or 11) year old me thought it was amazing.

oh yeah! i've broken a knife on 2 separate occasions i think. once i tried to get something out of between the blender's blades, used a knife and then accidentally turned the blender on (i'm so fucking glad it was a knife and not my fingers). so the tip of the knife broke off (the blender was ok tho). and the second time i have no idea how it happened. i was cutting up broccoli and the knife just fell apart??? i was so confused, because one second i'm holding a knife and the next it's just two pieces of a handle and the metal part, all separate. had fun explaining that to my dad. you sound pretty unlucky too! i mean, a cut every time you use a knife, but you don't even notice it at the time? i think it's just that knives are out to get us (it's my newest conspiracy theory). i actually get double vision too sometimes! mostly when i'm tired, but i just figured that it was because i have really bad eyesight

they definitely SHOULD teach about gender and sexuality in school. it's a really big problem that in a lot of places it's either not compulsory or not even in the curriculum. honestly, everything i know about sex ed or lgbtq+ i had to learn myself on the internet, because we only had one class when we were like 13 years old with a guest speaker and it was mostly biology and then a little bit about menstruation and pads for girls (i have no idea what they told boys because we were also separated). so sex ed definitely sucks a lot in my country and i bet it's the same in a lot of others, which makes me really mad

exactly!! it's so hard to tell whether i'm feeling romantic or platonic love sometimes! it's confusing. also i remember one time me and a couple of friends had a sleepover and the friend's, who was hosting, parents weren't home so we watched romance movies (scandalous i know). again we were maybe 12. and they kept going "oh he's so hot" and intensely watching the sex scenes. while i was looking away from the tv whenever sexy times were going on and commenting on how much i loved the house design and the garden. gee i wonder what that means. (still can't believe it took me this long to figure out i was ace)

the breakfast went very well though! it's so interesting how different traditions are everywhere. i hope your lunch and the rest of christmas day went well too! (also i forgot to ask last time, but what is boxing day? google says it's mostly a shopping holiday, is it that? we just call it the second day of christmas and it's pretty much the same as christmas day but there's no presents!) but yeah i hope you had fun with your extended family on boxing day!

having acid reflux sounds like it sucks. i love breakfast, it's my favourite meal of the day (when i don't have to rush that is) and i skip lunch a lot because i usually have no time for it (my schedule kinda sucks), so i usually try to have a bigger breakfast. but hey, peanut butter is good! so at least you can have something that tastes good for breakfast!

aaand i feel like this ask got away from me. sorry it's so long!

it’s because i have t a s t e. it may not be GOOD taste but it sure is...taste...and i am proud of it. and yes, i love the idea of adding my dressing gown to my costume specifically because it means i’m basically in my PJ’s. minimal effort. comfort to the max. living the dream. halfway through the night i’m tired of being the vampire no one invites in so i drop to my knees and start the mouse act. mice are good at getting in houses and getting to chocolate and such. the dream. also i absolutely would get bored of one costume within the space of a few hours knowing me, so that’s a plus. uhhhh halloween is october which is. mid-late spring so it really depends on the day. it might be a little cold, might be shorts weather. I rarely leave my house at night so I’m not an expert on nighttime temperatures sdflsdfjsd. 

I used to wish we did Halloween here but that was mostly because I wanted lollies. Although I also liked playing dress up as a young kid so maybe very young me would’ve vibed with the costume aspect. I know there’s a photo of me when I was like, 5 and my best friend of the time dressed up as witches at some point, maybe we had our own little halloween. I also possibly had a halloween themed birthday party once as a kid? I remember the little gift bags having spooky things in them and also possibly a bat cake but my memory is too bad to remember for sure. aha that’s the problem here too, no one locally would ever think to buy lollies to give out so it’d just be like um. you can have an apple I guess? at least you had fun though! i respect the commitment to the costume despite the cold. 

that is such a stressful story to read, i fear for your life. although i understand the knife breaking in that first scenario. that would be terrifying though. what if the blender launched it,,, nOPE. i’m very glad it wasn’t your fingers, that’s some horror movie shit. the second time is just,, it be like that sometimes. it was probably just waiting to happen. my parents have a cheese grater with a loose handle and it. falls off. every time. i dry it. with the dishes. and every time i fear for my life as the grating bit drops off towards my feet as i’m left holding the handle. i should expect it by now but i never do. I get scared every time it happens. knives are definitely out to get us, i fully support this conspiracy theory. oh yeah, tiredness doesn’t help with double vision. i kind of need bifocal glasses by now but I also don’t want bifocal glasses so i just suffer but I suspect having them would reduce the double vision. maybe. maybe not.

yup! i remember someone handing out tampons and pads at primary school, i assume after giving a talk about periods, idk. i do also remember a teacher pulling the girls aside and being like yo, this is what a period is, here’s a horror story about my daughter and a tampon, enjoy the trauma, go back to class. good times. we did actually get really comprehensive sex ed concerning most things at my high school but that is faaaarrr from the norm around here, clearly. although teenage boys are good at filling in gaps, in my experience. they’re like little sex encyclopedias that offer up information without you asking. i didn’t ACTUALLY want to know that but i do now, i guess, thanks michael. 

dude. the ‘oh he’s so hot’ comments are so confusing. ‘hot’ is like a category of attractiveness that I’ve never understood. ‘isn’t he hot?’ what does that MEAN rebecca. i think i asked once if it meant like, attractive or good looking. and the person i asked was like, you know, hot. you just look at them and, you know- no i don’t know. what is this. i don’t think i’ve ever watched a sex scene with people my age though, generally i just zone out for them sdkfhskdfh. i feel like there’s definitely all these indicators when you look back like oh yeah, should’ve realised i was ace then, but it’s just. such a hard sexuality to figure out. not that other sexualities aren’t but you’ve got to figure out an absence of something when you don’t even know what the something feels like- it’s a challenge.

I’m glad it did! It is interesting, for sure. I’ve always been interested in how winter Christmas’s work. As a young kid I didn’t understand hemispheres...obviously...i was like 5...and i’d go out on Christmas morning to see if there was snow. and sometimes it’d be a bit chilly in the morning and I’d be like damn. we almost had some this year. it’s a shame our climate tends to be too hot for snow on christmas :// like no you tiny dumbass it’s summer you little idiot there will be no snow no matter what. everything ended up going super well here :). boxing day is basically just a shopping holiday, i don’t know if it has any significance in any other way, i’m sure it did at one point, but i know there’s always boxing day sales everywhere. I think it’s also a public holiday (?) to give people another day off work and that, but I could be wrong there. I know I also used to regularly go to the races (horse races) nearby that were always held on boxing day, it was like a 150 year old tradition or something until people in attendance started dropping and I think they finally shut it down a couple years back. I didn’t care all that much about the horses but they also had food and carnival-type rides and such for the kids which is why I loved it. also we tended to meet extended family there for a picnic lunch.

acid reflux is like the least of my problems sdfkjshdkf. it’s annoying but it’s pretty managed with medication, I have to watch certain foods and drinks but I’m used to it by now. I think it’s also what causes me to not be able to eat large amounts normally so I survive a lot on snacks and a reasonable sized dinner. works for me. but peanut butter is good! i’m glad i can have that! I used to also have vegemite but that’s a bit more of a push, it’s easier to stick with peanut butter.

also it’s fine!! my responses are always very long too sdfjhskdf.

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (22/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Everyone take a moment to check out the INCREDIBLE drawing that @carpedzem​ did that was inspired by this story. It can be found | Here | and deserves all of the likes and reblogs for bringing the Killian in this story to life! 

Have a good weekend! ❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury​ @superchocovian​ @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog@cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings​ @youraverageshipper​

-/-

“You haven’t updated your Instagram account in weeks.”

Ariel says this as they sit in the hotel restaurant with their plates full of salad, grilled chicken, and rice. Killian’s been eating like shit lately, and as good as it feels in the moment, he can tell that it affects him and the way that he functions on a daily basis. So he’s been eating the same thing for every meal for the past week, but since they’re on the road where he doesn’t have constant access to a fridge and stove, he’s had to get a little creative in obtaining his food. Ariel is pretty much an expert at finding whatever it is that he wants when he wants it, and he cannot thank her enough for it.

Stabbing a piece of chicken, Killian lifts his fork to his mouth and takes a bite while he taps his passcode into his phone to see if Ariel’s statement is actually true. He really wouldn’t know, but it looks like he has several photos from the last few weeks on there.

“You can very clearly see all of these photos, A. Why are you so big on my social media presence lately?”

“These are all professional  photos,” Ariel sighs, an emphasis on professional, and she pushes his phone back toward him. “You need more personal photos. You look like a baseball player.”

“I am a baseball player.”

She waves him away. “You know what I mean.”

Killian arches a brow and scoops up some of his rice. “I really don’t, love.”

Ariel rolls his eyes, and he settles a little further in his booth, his eyes glancing around to the people sitting around them in the restaurant. It’s not very crowded, just a few people here and there, but that’s par for the course considering it’s tentwo in the morningafternoon on a Wednesday. Not a lot of people are chilling in a hotel restaurant in Boston when there are approximately fifty-two other things they could be doing within a five-foot radius. And that’s only the tourists.

And he’s pretty sure that everyone in here can hear his conversation, is probably judging them for the particular subject of it, but he knows that no one cares.

He certainly doesn’t, but if A cares, he should for her.

“People like a little personality,” Ariel explains, ripping up a bit of her napkin. “I know we’ve talked about this before, Killian. You’ve got to show a little personality outside of baseball. I’m not saying put your diary on there, but post a picture with someone outside of baseball.” “Literally, everyone in my life is involved in baseball in some way.”

“Okay, true,” Ariel laughs. “It’s the same for me, so I get it. Still, though, think about it.”

Killian hums noncommittedly, pushing his rice around before looking up at Ariel and wondering why the hell she’s looking at him like she’s holding all of the secrets of the world in that mind of hers.

“Did you really ask to meet me because we needed to talk about my Instagram feed?”

“I mean, obviously not,” she huffs. “I had a few work things to talk about with you, but I’ve also missed you. I feel like it’s been so long since we all spent time together with you guys not in uniform. It’s got to have been months, and I miss it.”

His heart swells and breaks all at once while his head tilts to the side to look at Ariel, eyes glancing up and down over her as he studies her. “You okay, A?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Ariel.”

“Killian.”

“Ariel, I am here to talk if you’re upset about something, and, literally, say the word and I will get all of us together to do something. We’re here for five days before we’re back in New York for a week. I know we’re in the crazy part of the season where it feels like we can’t breathe, but I promise there’s time for us all to spend time together.”

Her eyes glance down at her food, and she swishes her water around in the glass before taking a long, slow sip that he knows is to take up time.

“I really am fine,” she promises. “I’m just a little stressed with it all, and I feel like I need some time with all of you guys and Belle and, um, Emma too. I’m trying to make contract negotiations for Eric, which has involved us talking about a lot of future stuff that I wasn’t quite ready to talk about yet.”

“Babies?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” she laughs, even if it’s kind of pathetic. “I mean, I want kids. I do. I want them with Eric especially.”

“Well, I’d be a little concerned if you didn’t want them with your husband.”

She flicks a piece of lettuce at him. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

“Why do I love you?”

“I literally have no idea,” Killian teases, reaching over the table to grab Ariel’s hand so that he can squeeze it to reassure her. “Go on, A. I’m listening.”

“I just – it’s hard, you know? Obviously, Eric and I are financially secure right now, but you can’t plan life when that’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Because what happens if Eric gets traded somewhere else? We have to uproot everything, and having kids will complicate that. And we have to have a plan for Eric after he retires. Like, I have a pretty nice job because of all of you, but he’s going to need to have something to do. It’s just…it’s a lot on my plate when I’m already balancing so much. I mean, haven’t you thought about all of that?”

Damn.

Like, damn.

No, he hasn’t thought of any of that. Not at all. Well, that’s a lie, but it’s a small lie, a white one really. When he was out after the accident, his future was always on his mind, but it was never any concrete thoughts. It was always depressing ones about him never being able to play again, about him having no discernable skills outside of a sport, and about him wondering if he was going to fall into women and bars once more simply because things weren’t going his way. It was never a concrete answer about what he’s legitimately going to do after baseball. Money isn’t really his concern as long as he handles it all correctly, but how will he spend his days? What will he be passionate about?

Is Emma going to be by his side through all of it?

Woah.

Okay.

That’s not at all where he thought his mind was headed, but his brain apparently had a much different roadmap than he thought. Killian loves Emma, undoubtedly, and he does want his future to involve her, but it’s like Ariel said…they can’t plan life.

And he doesn’t know what Emma’s plans are.

Realistically, too, Killian isn’t exactly sure what he wants out of life, and he already knows that he most likely won’t have a career as long as a lot of other guys in the league. They haven’t had broken arms and rotator cuff tears that still bother him like he has.

Fuck.

This is not how his morning is supposed to be going, and the way that his heart is hammering in his chest is far worse now than it will ever be when he gets out on the mound tonight.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Killian squeezes Ariel’s hand again. “It’s hard to think about, A, but you guys will figure it out. I don’t think life can ever really be planned. I sure as hell have planned none of mine, and if I didn’t have you, I think it’d be a much bigger mess.”

Ariel’s cheeks flame up to be the same color of her hair, but she smiles at him anyways. “You’re right. You would be a mess without me and everyone else. I am the glue that holds you together.”

“You and a couple other people which means you are all very weak glue to need that many people to hold me together or I’m just that resistant.”

“The second option.”

“You’re going to be okay, A. You and Eric are solid. And if or when you do have that baby, no matter what city you’re in, I’m going to be there to be that kid’s favorite person in the world.”

“Please,” Ariel laughs even as water fills her eyes, “no one could ever compare to me. I’m definitely going to be my kid’s favorite person.”

“Whatever you have to say to make yourself sleep at night.”

-/-

Killian gets booed when he steps out onto the field, and he can’t imagine a more fitting welcome in Boston since that is what usually happens.

But then it continues past that first moment.

And he very much deserves it for how he’s pitching, though that booing is probably from the Yankees fans and not Boston natives. His arm is stiff, a bit of pain running through it, and he’s too stubborn to ask to be relieved early or to admit that he’s in pain. He tries to convince himself that it’s all exaggerated, that he’s simply been in a negative headspace all day since eating lunch with Ariel and all of the heaviness that was in that conversation, but he knows that it’s not exaggerated. Killian knows that his shoulder is bothering him, his mind is bothering him, and nothing is going to get him out of this foul mood.

Especially not when Al pulls him after the third inning once again and yells at him to get his shit together. Will does too, and even if it’s in his joking tone, Killian doesn’t take it that way. He doesn’t take any of it as a joke.

Who the hell cares about what he’s going to do after baseball if he can’t even figure out what he’s doing right now?

And in all of his anger, in all of his frustration at himself and at his team, the thing he hates himself for the most is brushing off Emma when she asks for an interview. He mutters a no under his breath and keeps walking down the hallway back to the locker room so that he can take a shower and get a massage.

She’s the woman who he loves more than anything or anyone else, which he didn’t even realize until right now, and he just blew her off when she was simply trying to do her job.

He’s such an asshole.

They lose 3-17.

-/-

Elsa: Are you okay?

Elsa: Killian.

Elsa: I know you’ve checked your phone. The game ended three hours ago. Five hours ago for you.

Elsa: I’m going to start calling you and won’t stop if you don’t text me back within the next five minutes.

Killian sighs and rolls over on his hotel mattress, phone still in hand, and sends Elsa a text back because he really does not want to talk on the phone right now.

Killian: Yes, Els?

He expects the bubbles to pop up to tell him that she’s texting back, but they don’t. Instead her face pops up, a picture of she and the girls from Christmas last year, and he wonders if she was ever not going to call him. The answer is most definitely no since he’s been ignoring her – and everyone else – all evening. Eventually someone was going to call him out on his shit.

Sighing again, he hits answer and presses the speaker button as Elsa’s voice comes through the phone.

“Why are you ignoring everyone?”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Only because I just promised to harass you until you did. Seriously, Killian. Your brother and I have been calling you all afternoon, and you’ve ignored us. And when I texted Emma, she said that you were ignoring her too.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbles aloud, sitting up in bed and moving his arm so that he’s not pressing down on it so as to agitate it more. “You texted Emma?”

“Um, yeah?” Elsa questions, the hesitation obvious in her voice. “She’s your girlfriend. She was at the game. I kind of figured she was with you, but apparently the two of you haven’t talked either. What the hell is wrong with you that you’re not even talking to Emma?”

Well, he’s an asshole for one. He’s also never told Emma about his shoulder injury and the full extent of the accident. He doesn’t want to. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but he doesn’t want Emma to know about it. Not now. As irrational as he knows that it is, she might think less of him. And maybe just maybe, if he doesn’t tell more people, the problem will somehow go away.

This is all becoming more irrational by the second, but it’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. That was such a dark place in his life, one he doesn’t want to keep repeating and reliving even if Emma already knows parts of it, and he has no idea how he’d even talk to her right now since she’s very obviously, and rightfully so, pissed at him.

It’s all so easy to mess everything up in the blink of an eye.

“She’s likely pissed at me since I brushed her off for an interview. I didn’t even say hi or smile at her or find her afterwards. So, I didn’t text her, and she hasn’t texted me. I don’t know…she’s upset with me, right?”

“She’s concerned about you,” Elsa breathes out, and from the lack of noise around her, Killian imagines that she must have locked herself in the study so that no one bothers her. “Killian, Emma loves you. Anyone with eyes can see that, and you guys are a team. Granted, you’re a brand new team, but you’re a team. You have to work together and share stuff like this.”

“I know that, Els.”

“Then why isn’t she with you right now?”

“Because my shoulder feels like shit today, and she doesn’t know anything about the accident besides the broken bone.”

Silence fills the air around him after he says the words, and it’s exacerbated by the fact that Elsa isn’t saying anything on the other line. The only sounds are the sounds of his television playing some kind of celebrity gossip show. How out of touch is he if he doesn’t even know the name of the show?

Why would it even matter to him?

“Killian,” Elsa whispers, and he’s so damn tired of hearing people say his name in sympathy today, “you haven’t told her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven’t told anyone else, Els. Eight people on this earth know about it, and I don’t even know how I would tell her. I don’t want her to look at me out of pity. I don’t…my life has had some pretty shitty periods, and that was one of them. Emma didn’t honestly know me then. She didn’t know how fucked up that I was, and even if I’ve told her about Milah and all of the women after Milah and – I’ve told her a lot, and at some point, she’s going to flip out on how messed up I am.”

“First of all,” she starts, not even allowing him to take a breath or truly think about everything that he just said, “you are not messed up. You, even with all of your privileges now, have had some really hard times in your life. You lost your mom at a really young age and had a pretty shitty dad who took advantage of you and your talents. And then you had a really big love kind of blow up in your face, as well as everything that came after that, and just as you were getting over that, the accident happened.”

“It’s even more depressing if you say it all in a list like that.”

“But,” Elsa continues, “you got through all of that. Are you still struggling with it? Absolutely. But it hasn’t kept you from continuing to live your dream even though things are frustrating. It hasn’t kept you from finding a really great girl in Emma. You’re okay, you know that? And we all love you so much that I don’t think I can even express it with words.”

Killian smiles to himself and twists in his bed, a bit of water coating his eyes, but he blinks the tears away and runs his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. “I love you guys too.”

“Good. Now text your girlfriend and think about telling her some of this stuff that you’re carrying around on your shoulders.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“A little.”

“You have no shame.”

“I know. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Will do.”

The line goes silent, for real this time, and Killian slams his eyes shut simply so he can have a moment to breathe. Today has been a lot for him, and he knows that Elsa is right about everything. He does. But he’s not quite ready to be that open with Emma. He will be. He does actually want her to know about everything even if he thinks it’ll make her run for the hills, but he’s not ready. And he tells himself that it’s fine. Emma has her own hang-ups, her own past, and not everything has to be shared right away.

They have time.

And his arm may very well start feeling better soon, and his freak out will all be for naught.

Killian: Can I come up to your room?

Emma: Ruby and Graham are in here.

Killian: I don’t care if you don’t.

Emma: 514.

Rolling off the bed, Killian bends down to his suitcase to grab a shirt, not caring which one, and tugs it down on over his head and shoulders before grabbing his phone and wallet to walk up to Emma’s room. He’s not even wearing any shoes, just socks, but he doesn’t notice this until he’s looking around the hallway to make sure no one is around and then quietly knocking on the door.

Graham opens it, a smile on his face, and for some reason it makes Killian think that maybe Emma isn’t as pissed at him as his mind has convinced himself that she is.

“Hey, come on in,” Graham says, opening the door a little wider and letting Killian inside. “I’m sorry about the game.”

“I’m sorry that you used vacation days to see us all play like shit.”

“Yeah, well,” Graham laughs, “at least I’m not at work.”

“This is true.”

Killian takes another step in the room and sees Emma sitting on her bed dressed in a pair of shorts and his old Vandy sweatshirt. He’s going to have to get something else because she’s going to wear that thing until it is nothing but threads. Ruby is sitting next to her, laptops on both of their laps, and he imagines that they’re simply working. Or, at least, he hopes.

“Hey,” Killian greets, crossing his arms over his chest.

Emma looks up at him, a slight smile on her face, and his chest practically heaves. They’re not even in a fight. Why does he feel like they are?

“Hey,” she says. “I’ve got to finish up this article, okay? And I have a little bit of prep work to do for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Swan, that’s fine.”

“It’s only going to take her thirty minutes,” Ruby starts, slamming her laptop shut, “and then she’s going to yell at you for how pissed she is at you for completely ignoring her today.”

“Hey,” Emma gasps, reaching her hand back to slap Ruby, “you weren’t supposed to say anything.”

“Well, I knew you weren’t going to.”

“I was.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I was going to talk to him.”

“No, no you weren’t. You two are ridiculous. It’s not that hard to talk to each other.”

“Sweetheart,” Graham sighs, tilting his head to the side, “why don’t you let them deal with their issues on their own? I think they can handle it.”

“You know Emma almost as well as I do, so you know that’s not true.”

“Oh my God,” Emma groans, sinking down further on the bed, “this is why I should have left the two of you in New York.”

“Technically,” Ruby laughs, “David sent me because this is a big game, and he didn’t want you to produce on your own.”

“Yeah, well, I should have convinced him to let you stay, and then we definitely could have left Graham behind.”

“Hey,” Graham scoffs, and Kilian can’t help but laugh. He’s only spent a little bit of time with the three of them all together, but they obviously get along great. Ruby is definitely an acquired taste, but Graham kind of evens things out. “I am on vacation. I don’t need to be berated.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Emma huffs, rubbing the palms of her heels under her eyes. “I’m just a little stressed.”

“Do you want me to go get you a cup of coffee, love?”

Emma glances over to him and shakes her head from side to side. “No. I’ve had enough caffeine today. Thank you, though.”

Silence falls between all of them, only the hum of the air-conditioning remaining, but Killian’s gaze stays on Emma even when she goes back to typing on her laptop.

“Ruby, let’s go out to dinner,” Graham suggests, walking over to the bed and beginning to pack up her stuff. “We’ll all have to do something together tomorrow night, yeah?”

“That sounds great, Graham,” Emma promises. “There’s a seafood place down by the harbor that I want to go to.”

Killian watches as Ruby and Graham collect their things and leave, saying their goodbyes to both he and Emma, and it’s not awkward until the hotel door slams shut behind them and he’s left with just Emma.

When was the last time he felt awkward around Emma?

Probably during his interview back in March. That was a lifetime ago.

“I had a shitty day,” Killian blurts out, walking over to the desk that’s next to Emma’s bed and sitting down on the edge of it so that he’s not talking to her from across the room. “That’s not an excuse. God, love,” he huffs, running his hands through his hair, “I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s mine. I’m sorry that I brushed you off, that I barely acknowledged you at the stadium, and that I didn’t text you while I’m here.”

Emma’s nails clack against the keyboard, and he swears every letter is being burned into his skin for how anxious he feels until she’s closing her laptop and placing it next to her on the bed, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Why have you had a shitty day? Just because you played poorly? Because I’ve seen you play poorly before, and it’s never resulted in you ignoring me while I’m trying to do my job. I get that reporters suck and that you have to talk to a million of them. And I don’t expect special treatment because I’m your girlfriend, but you can’t just brush me off like that and then basically be a ghost for hours after that. I mean, you weren’t even answering your family’s calls, Killian.”

How is he a functioning human being? How? How does he even have people who love him?

Killian’s got answers to all of her questions, to every single one, but he doesn’t know how to say them without talking about his arm and that’s…that’s not going to happen today when he needs more time to accept it all himself.

Emma will understand. When the time comes, she will.

“I’m an asshole, Swan. I am. I know you probably think I’m great with expressing my emotions because I usually am with you, but sometimes I still struggle with it. I had a day where nothing seemed to go right, and instead of seeking out the help of people who care about me, I isolated myself. It’s not right. I know it’s not, but it’s a pattern that I fall back into time and time again.”

Green eyes glance over him, studying him, and he feels her everywhere, like she’s able to peer deep into his soul and see all of the things he’s hiding from her.

Or the one thing.

It’s just one thing

And it can’t be that big of a deal. It’s not. He’ll tell her. Later. Tonight is not the right time.

“You’re not an asshole,” Emma sighs, flattening her lips. “I know I call you an ass all of the time, but I don’t mean it. I just – you had a bad day. I get that. I have bad days all the time, but, and at least I think I’m right about this even though Neal and Walsh never did this with me, when you have a shitty day, you’re supposed to share it with me, come to me, lean on me. If you need time to yourself, fine. Take it. That’s probably a good thing, but I don’t want to do this if every time things don’t go your way I’m pushed away.”

“Did you rehearse that?”

“Does it sound like it?”

“A little bit,” Killian chuckles as he scratches behind his ear. “If only because everything you just told me not to do is everything that I know you have a history of doing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a hypocrite.” Emma lets her legs fall against the mattress before standing up and stepping into his space so that she’s standing between his thighs with her hands on his shoulders, nails curling into his t-shirt. “Obviously, we both have our own issues, but let’s try to be better, yeah? And if all else fails when it comes to talking, I’m a really good person to eat junk food with and possibly get a little drunk even if those are terrible coping mechanisms.”

He huffs, his hands finding her hips so that he can tug her closer. “I’m on a diet, actually.”

Emma’s nose scrunches up in that way that he loves before she’s dipping her head down and softly, thoroughly moving her lips over his in the way that he’s been craving all day. He hasn’t seen her  today, only those few seconds after he got pulled out of the game, and he had no idea just how much he missed being able to feel her against him, to be able to smell the scent of her shampoo, until right at this moment.

“I know,” she says when they pull back from each other even if he doesn’t let his grip on her hips go. “We’ve been eating like crap lately.”

“I’m trying to rectify that. I know you are too.”

“Actually, Ruby and I signed up for another Pilates class at home, so I’ve been working my ass off to still eat my onion rings. Literally.”

“Oh, don’t do that.” Killian moves his hand back to squeeze her ass, reveling in the way that Emma rolls her eyes. “I like this ass too much.”

“Well, consider it some kind of punishment for being a broody ass today if my butt happens to get smaller.” She smiles at him before kissing his forehead in a move so gentle that he wonders how in the world this woman has so many wonderful facets. “Now, do me a favor and find something to watch while I finish up my assignment, okay? I have to talk about everything you guys did wrong today.”

“Just punch me in the gut why don’t you.”

“I try. C’mon, twenty-nine. I think we both deserve a relaxing night.”

“Yeah, Swan, me too.”

They don’t get drunk and eat junk food, but once Emma finishes her work a little under twenty minutes later, she turns her laptop off as well as turning off the hotel room lights, and crawls under the covers with him so that her feet are tucked into his calves. Killian loves that she does that, that she feels comfortable doing that, and it brings him comfort even if her feet are far too cold. Seriously, it’s like she sticks them in the freezer before she gets in bed.

As if that would be possible.

Emma absentmindedly playing with his chain and his mother’s ring is something he’s also grown used to recently, something that brings him peace, and Killian continues to trace words of affection into the skin of her back as the night goes on. They don’t talk much, just a few exchanges of words about Emma’s day, her plans and schedule for tomorrow, and she drags just that little bit more information out of him. It’s still not everything, was never going to be everything, but it’s a start.

And his shoulder doesn’t bother him nearly as badly when Emma is sitting beneath it with her head on his chest laughing at his truly terrible Arnold Schwarzenegger impression. He’s usually much better with accents, but this one is apparently too much for Emma to handle.

Weirdly, though, or maybe not so much, all of his concerns that sparked after his conversation with Ariel this afternoon fade away with each passing second. Killian’s got no clue what’s going to happen or if things are going to work out, but at the end of the day, all he wants is for Emma to laugh with him and kiss his collarbone before she falls asleep.

[charity-angel]

At the risk of tempting the universe/PTB to throw anything more at me, a brief summary of my weekend (with added background info that I bought my first house 2 months ago):

Saturday morning, arse o’clock: text from my mother saying she is sending my dad over and are there any jobs that need doing?

Yes, quite a few. Chief of which is I want to trace whatever fault means that half1 the spotlights in my kitchen aren’t working.2

Slightly later Saturday, more reasonable time: Dad arrives. Decides that since weather is nice, he's going to repair my back gate. Fair enough - it wasn't on my list, but it will mean I can actually open it whenever I need to rather than wrestling with it.

While helping him: Spot something that annoys me, and I have purchased the means to fix but not got around to actually doing it. The security light comes on no matter what time of day it is. It is currently broad daylight. Decide to amend this. Venture into basement, turn electricity off. Arm self with screwdrivers. Prepare to install switch rather than popping fuse out of wall all the time3.

Bit of swearing later: Fuse panel is off wall, but there is something going on outside. Venture out to find a guy out cold in the street running behind the terrace, with two teenage girls speaking to the 999 operator. As I kneel beside him to try and assess, he starts to come round - enough to say he doesn't want an ambulance. I try to get girls to not relay this to the operator, but they do and it's cancelled. He is CLEARLY still out of it. They hang up, go on their way, and he promptly passes out again.

Remind self of how to put someone into the recovery position. Lament that last time I did this it was a conscious, skinny PGCE student in her early twenties, and this is a grown-ass man who is not surreptitiously helping with the rolling over. I also can't get his hand under his head, so I hold his head up myself instead, while my dad finally decides I've been a while and rings 999 back4.

Takes them a while to get there. I think the call timer is over 20 mins. My back is in spasms, my left leg is going numb and pins & needles-y. The guy has vomited three times (thank fuck I rolled him). Paramedics manage to bring him round a bit - enough to get him to confess he's on methodone.

Ow, fucking ow: Have to go back to doing the electrical work, since the power is off and my dad now needs to charge the drill. Set about attaching the cables to the right bits. Discover that the cabling is too short to reach one of the terminals on the new switch. Fuck. Re-install fuse plate. Turn power back on. Thank whoever is listening that I don't seem to have screwed anything up.

Saturday, 2:45: Lunch. I have frozen bread, and a shit-load of eggs. Scrambled eggs on toast it is.

Maybe 3:15?: Dad sets about re-seating curtain pole in the spare room, with decent rawlplugs so that it will take the weight of the curtain my mum is making for it.

Not long later: That's done with minimal fuss5. Dad muses that could do with putting the rail back on the stairs6.

Couple of minutes later: Persuade him that could actually do with lifting the floor since I'd quite like to be able to see in the kitchen after nightfall, whereas the handrail is a minor inconvenience. We begin.

At this point, it is worth noting that I had tried this myself on Thursday evening only to discover the floor appears to be chipboard rather than floorboards. Also it is worth noting that the carpet was laid and then the skirting boards put down over it.

Half an hour later?: Free enough of the carpet to realise that the bed needs to be moved. And by moved, I mean effectively dismantled.

Another hour?: Bed semi-dismantled and on its side7, room totally rearranged. More skirting boards unscrewed, silicon sealant peeled from the walls, skirtings removed8, carpet screws removed, carpet rolled up as much as possible. We manage to prise one of the bits of chipboard up, only to realise that: a) the original floorboards are still mostly there underneath (although mostly not under this particular bit), and b) the majority of the fucking things have not only been screwed down over the floorboards, but also GLUED. I shit you not. Also that some of the boards extend underneath the plasterboard9 wall

We decide this is a bigger job than us and have to at least put the flooring back down and move things we had moved from there into my room back so I can at least get into bed. We decide not to do anything else as it will only need moving again.

Around 6pm: My poor dad heads home. I discover I have a stray text from my mum about half an hour earlier asking if he's still with me.

Not long later: Run bath. Pour self bowl of tesco's coco pops in lieu of meal I haven't got the spoons to cook.10

Ominous message from mother: She is coming over tomorrow to hang the curtain, and set the spare room right again.

Sunday, about 9am: Ow. Owowowowow. Break out the painkillers. Fuck. Browse AO3 for Rose/Ten fics since I have just binged their season and I have feels, okay?

11:30: Text from mother: she is heading over around 1: do I want anything picking up at the temperance bar since she is going?11

Around 12: Decide should get dressed. Painkillers doing their job. Get clean jeans since she is dragging me out for curtain hoops. I might not drive, but I at least know where I'm going.12

12:15: spot a big, ominous wet patch above my bedroom door that is just about to start dripping. FUCK!

Shove water cup under the impending drip, grab towel and slightly larger container, replace cup. Grab bigger container and head for loft access hatch.

Realise loft access is behind all this shit we moved around in the spare room yesterday. Double fuck. Set about moving it elsewhere so I can get in.

12:30:Ring Dad and ask if he can bring over his big set of stepladders as I suspect I probably could get myself into the attic space13, but would break my neck coming back down. Also I need a torch that is not my phone. He laments that Mum has taken the big car. I call her instead, get her to head home and stock up on essentials (ladders, torch, Dad). I decide to change into yesterday's scruffy jeans since this isn't likely to be a clean job.

About 1-1:15: They arrive, and my dad manoeuvres himself into the attic. This is impressive and just a lot of a dangerous move or two involved. It takes a second person (read: me), which means I have no chance of getting up there myself.

Issue is with the chimney stack and can't actually get a bucket under it. But by the light of my phone14 he can see multiple other issues. Although he does move a slate back into place so I can't see daylight between it and its next-door neighbour. Bless him.

2:15: decide to get some lunch and the curtain hoops. Head into town. Can't park15 Mum decides she isn't hungry, drops us at Costa (it's open, at least) and goes to get the hoops herself.

3-ish: Get back. Sort spare room so it is habitable. Because there is still a drip from my bedroom doorframe, so guess where I'm suddenly sleeping tonight. Hang curtain16.

4-ish: Decide to actually put the handrail back, so we can feel we've at least achieved something useful. This turns out to be a bigger job than anticipated because the fucking plaster keeps falling apart and the rawlplugs won't hold properly. And the ones that will, we don't have screws the right size for. I mean...

5:30-ish: Rail is up. They leave. I run bath as everything is ouch.

7-ish: Can no longer ignore fact that I can hear dripping in the bathroom. Get out while bath is still full to try and work out where the fuck it is coming from. Take side panel off bath17. Not obvious. The outlet pipe has drippy bits all along it. Can't get a container under it. Yay.

Shove microfibre cloth under just to try and contain dripping. Suspect the joint in the pipe where new plumbing has been connected to older is the issue, but seems to be from both bloody ends of the joint piece.

7:45-ish: Drain bath, turn shower on so can wash hair. Little later than anticipated - won't dry properly now18.

tl;dr: I hate my house and everything about it.

1. The half that are on the useful side of the kitchen. You know, where the sink and hob are. The ones that help me do things like cook and wash up after dark.

2. Spotlights embedded into ceilings are clearly one of Crowley's inventions.

3. I am not a qualified electrician, but I have studied electronics at school, been taught on the side by my engineer dad, and I know my limits. Do not do this yourself if you aren't absolutely sure of what you're looking at.

4. Can't do it myself as my battery is dead and, guess what - I've turned the electricity off so I can't charge it. And my landline is cordless, so that needs power too.

5. other than Dad not realising that my ceilings are a little lower than his and going 1 step too high on the ladder. Muppet.

6. I removed this about 2 days after I moved in because of the 4 brackets supposedly securing it to the wall, only 2 actually were. I was more liable to break my neck using it than not. It didn't take me long to realise that while removing it was a 1 woman job, putting it back required more hands. 4 more, as it transpires.

7. Dad manages to hit his head on one of the protruding legs of the bed. I swear...

8. Honestly. They were screwed to the wall and then silicon sealed along the top (and joining edges). The carpet was screwed to the floor under the boards.

9. Drywall, for anyone of an American disposition.

10. Ignore suspicious dripping sound. This turns out to be something of a mistake.

11. Fucking yes, I am almost out of all my cordials. Curse not living near it any more

12. Mostly. One-way systems are a touch tricky when you don't have to obey them. As are bus-only routes.

13. On later reflection, this is incredibly doubtful since I lack the upper body strength to haul myself several feet straight up.

14. Because they brought a curtain and cushions as well as the big stepladder, but not a torch.

15. Also not something I have to think about often.

16. Discover Mum and I have been talking cross-purposes as to which side of the window it is going on. Fortunately this is not a massive issue.

17. Inventory of the under-bath: 2 bags grout, 1 tub of paint, 1 jigsaw piece, 1 part of an old loo roll holder, about 50cm of 1cm diameter dowel, 1 electrical cable that is quite possibly live given that an attempt has been made to insulate it inside a plastic bag. What is not there is the wooden frame that should support the sides of the plastic bath.

18. There are many advantages to the care and maintenance of curly hair. Not being able to blow-dry it is NOT one of them. Not having to, otoh, is.

[imitranslates]

Fukigen na Mononokean Ch. 72

More truths about Yahiko this month, and Ashiya finally gets to hear a little more about Abeno’s past from the man himself!

Please remember to check out the official English release when it comes out, preferably on Crunchyroll if you’re able to!

The newest chapter can be read on the official website by clicking the yellow button labeled 読む!

Fukigen na Mononokean Chapter 72 - Zero Degrees

Page 3

[Yahiko is...]

[The Underworld princess's big brother...?!]

Page 4

Yahiko: Cough... cough...

Yahiko: ......

Yahiko: ...Haruitsuki... How long have you known my identity?

Abeno: I acknowledged you as a demon with a strong spiritual power from the first time we met, but

I did not realize you were "Mioya-hiko."

Page 5

Abeno: But the Executive told me something important regarding the door to the Underworld. He said, "The earthbound Prince Kamo-mioya-hiko must never be exorcised."

That's why, when I saw how adamantly you refused to be exorcised, I thought that maybe...

Abeno: The reason the door to the Underworld can open is related to the Underworld Princess being in the Underworld, and Prince Mioya-hiko being in the Mundane world.

Abeno: One could say that the door to the Underworld would disappear if this relationship was disturbed.

Abeno: Therefore, you must remain in the Mundane world

to protect the door to the Underworld, correct?

Page 6

Ashiya: (Then, that's why Yahiko didn't want to be exorcised?!)

Ashiya: (When he was scolded by Abeno-san, he said Yahiko could stay at the temple for a year, so he never suspected a thing!)

Ashiya: (Why did I never hear about Yahiko being such a key figure?!)

Yahiko: ......

Yahiko: Haruitsuki...

Yahiko: ...Why did you stay quiet if you realized it?

Abeno: Since you didn't divulge your identity, I determined that you didn't want it to be discovered.

I treated you in the same manner as usual until now.

Abeno: This will be the last day I behave without acknowledging your position.

Page 7

Abeno: I humbly ask that you forgive me for my rudeness.

Abeno: ......

Yahiko: Sto--

Yahiko: Cough!

Yahiko Cough, cough...

Abeno&Ashiya: !?

Ashiya: Abeno-san! First things first, let's move Yahiko to the Mononokean!

Being out in this cold will only aggravate his illness!

Yahiko: Cough, cough!

Abeno: The Mononokean's no good! It'd probably upset the balance I mentioned earlier.

Ashiya: Wha...?! Then, to Zenko's house!

Page 8

Yahiko: Cough, cough!

Abeno: Please come with me. I shall take you inside.

Abeno: Prince Mioya-hi...

Yahiko: Don't call me that!

Yahiko: I really hate being treating like this!

Ashiya: !?

Page 9

Yahiko: Go back to the normal Haruitsuki.

...If you don't, I won't play with you anymore.

Abeno: ......

Ashiya: ...Getting rid of his playmates is a serious manner for Yahiko.

Abeno: ......

Abeno: ("Mioya-hiko" has the same top rank in the Underworld as the princess herself, and is to be revered...)

(Once his identity was made clear, I thought to treat him with distinction, but...)

Page 10

Abeno: (I can't get used to it after all this time, either.)

Yahiko: Wah!

Abeno: ...Then, I'll act freely.

Abeno: Geez! Zenko told you to wait calmly in the house because you were coughing!

Don't go playing outside when your condition's this bad, you three-year old!

Yahiko: Ehhh? But tomorrow the snow will be gone, and I won't be able to make snowmen!

Ashiya: (We're back to the usual scene...)

(Ashiya: Now, now, you two!)

Page 11

Ashiya: Excuse us!

Ashiya: Hello!

Zenko Papa: Zenko called to say you two were coming...

It's cold, right... Come inside.

Page 12

Zenko Papa: I put some tea in there, so feel free to have some.

Ashiya: Thank you so much.

Yahiko: Cough, cough...

Yahiko: Cough.

Page 13

Yahiko: Cough.

Ashiya: He looks like he's having trouble breathing...

Abeno: Yahiko, aside from your coughing and fever, is there anything else wrong with your body?

Yahiko: Yeah...

Yahiko: After I transformed earlier, I started to feel woozy...

Yahiko: And then, I wanted to eat something sweet...

Ashiya: Isn't that normal?

Yahiko: There's mikan on top of the kotatsu so give me one, Ashiya~~

Ashiya: You can't just eat whatever you want...

Yahiko: Hurry up already...

Page 14

Ashiya: Here you go.

Yahiko: Can you peel it? Zenko always does it for me!

Ashiya: Zenko...! That's spoiling him too much...!

Ashiya: Here you go.

Ashiya: Come on! Say ah!

Yahiko: Ah~!

Ashiya: Even though he's ill, he still has an appetite.

Abeno: Seems like it.

Yahiko: Ashiya~ Gimme another piece!

Ashiya: Yes, yes.

Page 15

Abeno: I've got the gist of your condition...

Abeno: Yahiko... Those symptoms aren't just a cold.

Yahiko: !

Abeno: Your symptoms might be caused by the Underworld Princess.

Yahiko: ...!?

Ashiya: ?

Page 16

Abeno: One month ago, I received a report about the princess's poor condition.

From what I heard then, her symptoms are strikingly similar to Yahiko's now.

Abeno: At this timing and them having the same symptoms, there's a high probability that his relationship with the Underworld Princess is affecting him.

Ashiya: !

Ashiya: Wait a second... Wasn't the princess cured?

Abeno: I heard that she'd recovered, but...

Yahiko: Cough, cough. Cough...

Yahiko: Cough.

Yahiko: The princess... Got sick...

Page 17

Yahiko: ...But, she'll be fine because she's in the Underworld...?

Yahiko: Cough.

Yahiko: ...The princess... She won't disappear, right...?

Abeno: !

Abeno: ...Unfortunately, I can't confirm that completely.

Page 18

Abeno: But she won't get so weak that she disappears, so you can rest assured.

Abeno: The master of Kiyakudo is attending to her to take care of her health, so she's in much better shape than you are.

Abeno: Leave the princess to us, and make sure you get lots of rest until you're healed up.

Abeno: ...Alright?

Yahiko: ...Okay.

Yahiko: Haruitsuki... I'll get looots of rest, so can you pet my head some more?

Yahiko: Cough... cough!

Page 19

Yahiko: Ashiyaa, I want more mikan!

Ashiya: Yes, yes...

Yahiko: Ashiyaa, I'm thirsty!

Ashiya: Yes, yes, I'll make some tea. (And for Abeno-san, too.)

Yahiko: Ashiyaa, can you scratch my back? (It's itchy~)

Ashiya: Yes, yes, am I doing it too hard? (I am a backscratcher.)

Yahiko: Ashiyaaa, sing for me!

Ashiya: Yes, yes... Then, for the first song... (Ahem... Lululullu, lululullu, lululuuuu~)

Abeno: Cut it out!

Zenko: I'm back...

Yahiko: Welcome home, Zenko! (Cough.)

Zenko: (I'm home, Yahiko.) Did you stay at home and sleep like you were supposed to?

Yahiko: Yeah!

Ashiya&Abeno: No.

Page 20

Zenko: ...Hm? Yahiko, you have a fever...

Ashiya: He seems to feel a little dizzy.

Abeno: We'll go buy some medicine.

We'll come back again so wait here and watch over Yahiko for us.

Zenko: Okay.

(Ashiya: See you then.)

Ashiya: Yahiko's cold... I'm a little worried.

Abeno: Yeah...

Abeno: But the princess is a bigger problem.

Ashiya: Huh?

Abeno: Yahiko's symptoms can be controlled with medicine, but

Abeno: If the princess's condition is affecting him, then he won't be able to get better unless the princess makes a complete recovery...!

Page 21

Abeno: ...But getting rest to recuperate is practically impossible while she's still maintaining her divine protection.

Since she can't step down from the throne, she's losing time she could be using to recover.

Ashiya: I see...

Ashiya: And Aoi-san, who was supposed to be the next Underworld Princess, isn't here either...

Page 22

Abeno: .......

Abeno: You... Why do you know that?

Ashiya: Huh?

Ashiya: ...Ah! The Justice told me before.

Abeno: The Justice did...

Abeno: ...

Abeno: ...Did he tell you anything else?

Ashiya: Anything else...?

Page 23

Abeno: ...For instance...

Abeno: Some...

Abeno: Really old story... maybe?

Ashiya: Really old...?

Ashiya: (Ah!) I heard about how he used to let you ride on his back and go on walks with him!

And the Legislator told me that Aoi-san threatened him with "I'll kill you!" when he was introduced to you for the first time.

Abeno: Those two...! Yammering about my business on when I wasn't around...!

Ashiya: It wasn't like that, though?

Ashiya: When it came to me asking why you had gone into the forest when you were an employee...

They refused me and said, "I won't tell you."

Abeno: ......

Page 24

(Ashiya: There was even more reminiscing over past memories from those two!)

Ashiya: It... It's not like that?! It wasn't like I was trying to pry into all the things you're hiding, Abeno-san!

When I was talking to the Justice and the Legislator, the conversation just happened to flow in that direction....!!

No, I mean, I'm sorry for asking about things on my own...!!

Abeno: ...When I went to the forest,

Abeno: I came to see Aoi off.

Abeno: Their body was cursed by the parasitic shrub, and there was nothing that could be done for their condition.

Sensing their time of death, Aoi said they wanted to search for a place to die while they could still move, and decided to enter the forest.

Page 25

Abeno: Seeing them off was my final job as an employee of the Mononokean.

Ashiya: .....!

Ashiya: .....

Ashiya: ...Then,

Aoi-san is already...

Page 26

Abeno: Somewhere in the forests.

Abeno: ...I say that, but the possibility of them being alive is zero.

Ashiya: That slim, huh... I thought so, but...

Ashiya: Aoi-san really is gone...

(They also became a victim of the parasitic shrub--)

Page 27

Abeno: ...But.

Abeno: No matter how much I search, I can't find a body...

Ashiya: !?

[...That's why.]

Page 28

Abeno: It's cold...

[I'm willing to bet on zero.]

[That idiot wouldn't die.]

[ngfics]

Natural Instinct - scene

.

Posts . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 .

.

As far as second lives went it wasn't that bad.

"Jana?" mother of this body called. "Could you wash the dishes?"

She called back in affirmative before fishing for a bookmark to mark the page. Jana rushed to the kitchen ruffling the hair of her two younger sisters before getting to work.

When she was young, in her previous life, she loved washing dishes by hand; a silly tradition really and one she hated doing in the winter because back in her previous life there was no hot water in the kitchen. Here there were no such setbacks.

That made her cry sometimes.

The Sable family lived in a small village named Plume; on a Summer Island called Hook Island, Grand Line, Paradise.

First time she learned of this Jana had been torn between laughter and sobbing, not that she could be blamed for that, knowing the dangers of the world she was born in.

Clinking of the plates calmed her, smell of detergent made her focus on her work; but her mind did drift into slight introspection as these were all practiced movements. There was plenty to wash, their family ran an Inn - or rather her grandmother ran an Inn and the rest of the family just happened to live here.

This was one of grandmother’s grumbling complaints, so Jana had little issue lending a hand.

When she realized where she was, at age of three, she threw herself into reading any book she could reach. She considered herself very lucky to be born as a nobody and far away from the plot as possible; but she knew it might not stay that simple.

What if one of the more horrid pirate crews anchored here? what if pirates attacked her village? what if Marines decided to kill her entire island off?

What if, what if.

There was a myriad of possibilities that could end their peaceful lives here.

Gol D. Roger was executed when she was three, which left her quite some time until plot happened, assuming she didn't die before then, due to whatever. After all the main plot is not all there is.

One thing that she was certain of was that no one could know of the knowledge she possessed. It would place her family in danger, an entire world in danger, should there exist a person whose Devil Fruit could read minds.

Jana wanted to take no chances.

Best way to confuse a mind reader, who probably wouldn't be looking for any information under 'reincarnation' was to hoard huge amounts of knowledge. That was Jana’s take on the issue.

Little bits and pieces that would become credible clues to things she knew from before. Just so that a possible mind reader - and it was quite possible such a Devil Fruit existed - would consider her an investigator rather than an outsider with knowledge of the future.

She unplugged the sink and watched the soapy water drain away. Jana knew her parents were worried that she had no aspirations outside of reading and training her dog.

She smiled as she dried the plates.

How happy they were that she finally had a friend of sorts. Even if it was an animal. Jana had never been able to connect to her older sisters, not in the way sister's might; as she treated all four, both the younger and the older set of twins, as children.

Which they were, but being a young girl in body made it seem weird to others even if Jana was mentally thirty, twenty three years older than her body.

As soon as she was done she called to her grandmother that she was going out and grabbed her book again. "Jana!" her mother called out before she could disappear. "Don't forget to clean your room if you want to go with your father tomorrow!"

"I won't!" a rare grin spread across her face. She loved going with her father to the bigger city. A city that reminded her of her past life with it's tall buildings and numerous roads. No cars unfortunately, but still nostalgic. Jana loved to explore while her father did his work for the building company.

As an architect in a city like that he had no shortage of work; more than in their village of course, as pirates were more prone to anchoring and destroying in bigger cities.

While she did get in trouble sometimes, Jana was usually fast and nimble enough to escape and drunkards and delinquents that wanted to harm her.

After one incident which granted her a cut on her upper arm she made sure to run every morning if only to build up stamina.

This payed off in the busy streets of Lissel City where she learned to weave in and out of crowds with impressive speed, and manage to get back to her father unharmed every time since.

There were some of her father's friends that taught her how to punch properly once she returned with a black eye, courtesy of a fisherman's son who wanted to rip her book (he looked worse).

Her parents might have been worried that she would become a delinquent or a criminal, but her sisters pitched in with evidence that most kids in their nearby school were just jealous of Jana's smarts. After the elder twin's pleading she was left alone about any scrapes she gained, and if her father encouraged her to learn some self-defense and her grandmother looked suspiciously proud that was another matter entirely.

It was after the incident with Marines that her father encouraged her to broaden her physical training.

Jana didn't trust Marines, not by a long shot.

Mostly due to the fact that she was privy to their dirty secrets than anything else. Logically she knew there were good and bad Marines, in relation to civilian populace, just as there were many types of Pirates no matter what World Government said.

It was due to this that she gave Marines she encountered a benefit of doubt.

That was her first mistake.

Honestly, though, she knew there were some brutes out there, but to physically attack a seven year old was over the top. She didn't even bump into them or anything and being addressed as 'Hey you' didn't really clue her in that they were talking to her.

Jana returned home with a broken arm and an angry expression. Her parents panicked in short order, but only looked resigned when she said that it was the Marines.

That was the day she learned that her grandfather had been a pirate.

She also learned that Marines looked for any excuse to bring their family down. Villagers around here didn't like the Marines either, especially since they knew the Sable family and had no issue over long dead pirate relative. It was a small town, a close knit community.

Even if they had issues with each other, they had more beef with the Government.

Marines excused this as prevention. Keeping an eye on them in case any of them decided to turn pirate. Her parents' worry over her injuries looked to gain more weight with every moment.

It was the city dwellers who helped her once they heard her scream out from the pain; they escorted her back home after filing a complaint against the Marines. Her parents thanked them, but didn't expect it to go though, these things never did they said.

It was the first time they inflicted a serious bodily injury to a member of the family and her father worried that it might escalate.

That was the reason he introduced a broader training routine into Jana's schedule. Her elder sisters used to have their own when they were her age, but they were also less prone to getting in trouble.

Jana thought that this was the issue of her mental and physical age difference because she tended to mis-estimate danger.

It happened many times, but it was this time that she didn't manage to escape. Not that Jana made any mention of those previous times, not wanting to worry anyone, but it was this time that such an error was brought to her attention violently.

Three months passed since then. During the first month Jana shied away from people more than ever and her family fretted that her trust in people was broken irreparably.

What they didn't realize that it was her trust in herself that had been broken.

Jana grew more and more uncertain of her own knowledge of people, interactions and emotions.

Because, why couldn't she read the situation that time-why couldn't she see?!

It was Luca, her dog, who saved her. It was him who really saved her. Her family saw him bring her out of her shell, but they didn't see the whole picture.

Jana learned quickly that Luca was a good judge of character, he could smell it, sense it, whatever it was that he could do; he could definitely tell people's intentions. Jana let him take the wheel.

Everywhere she went Luca followed and Jana took cues from him.

From his slanted ears, bristling fur, bared teeth or low growls. She attuned herself and her observations according to him and pulled through.

.

Posts . 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 .

Fic Masterlist

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[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 26)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25

Part 27: here

LEWIS POV

Why is Arthur afraid of him? The question sits at the forefront of his mind, occupying his thoughts. Was it all him or was there something more, someone else, involved like Vivi suggests?

What can Lewis do to help someone who obviously doesn’t what it?  At least, he’s pretty sure Arthur doesn’t want his help. Despite her instance, for Lewis to not jump to any hasty conclusion, he is definitely partly responsible for Arthur running off without them. If he’s not the cause of Arthur’s initial fear, then he is surely at fault for driving a wedge between them with his less than stela reaction to Arthur’s panic attack. The echo of anger, at himself and the situation, is distant but ever-present.  Lewis quickly shoves the unruly emotion away, focusing on the less concerning sense of guilt.  

Honestly, Lewis isn’t enjoying this unwanted return to self-doubt and emotional insecurity. These last few years, spent working at the family diner, hanging with Arthur, and dating Vivi, have been his best by a long shot. Now all his old fears are back with a vengeance. In his front breast pocket, Arthur’s note seems unnaturally heavy and he resists the urge to pull it out and scan it for answers that didn’t exist. In his mind’s eye, every communication and interaction with Arthur flashes by. Was he too imposing? Too pushy.? Not friendly enough? Should he have stepped back and given Arthur more space? Mabey he’d give Arthur too much space?  

All the memories seem wrong now, which is knows can’t be right. Discontent grows. Lewis gives Vivi a light squeeze, trying to find a distraction from the building unease. Lewis is letting his current feelings colour his past recollections, and he needs to stop. This needs to be approached logically. Inadvertently, his free hand lifts to hover over his breast pocket. The piece of paper drags at his heart like a chain attached to a cement block, sinking slowly into the ocean.

“What are you thinking about?” The prompt breaks his worried silence. Vivi is staring pointedly, attention flicking between his hand and the pocket. This whole situation has got her wound into a ball of worried energy, jittery and irritable.

Lewis sighs to release tension, moving the hand to rub his eyes, “Just trying, and kind of failing, to find a rational explanation for stuff.” He lets the sentence hang so it can encompass all of everything. Arthur panicking, running away, Lance’s mysterious hospitalisation, being left stranded, and it all potentially being his fault.

“We can’t know why…” Vivi starts to reassure to which Lewis finishes quickly, “Without asking Arthur. I know…” He is still trying to incorporate it into this current mindset. He’s not been entirely successful but saying it out loud helps.  

Lewis continues doggedly, “But maybe, if we narrow the weird behaviour down to a particular point we’ll find some reason for it?” A reason that wasn’t him. He doesn’t say the last part. He doesn’t need to. Despite his preference towards sitting and silently thinking through a problem, talking benefits them both.

Vivi shuffles a bit to lean into him, her jittery leg movement stops. “Yeah, I was thinking about that as well. It has to be recent because I’m sure one of us would have noticed if it was a long-term thing.”

Lewis frowns at the highway, offering, “We haven’t really spent a lot of time with Arthur this last few weeks. So I guess that makes a bit of sense.”

As if picking up on his line of thought, Vivi comments, “Two weeks ago, the first day we started painting the van, Arthur ran off and spent all that time in the bathroom. I kind to thought it was odd, but, you know, one extended trip to the bathroom isn’t really that big a deal.  But then he also sat in his room for the rest of the evening….”

Lewis grimaces, thinking back, sorting through his recollections. Arthur had been awfully uncommunicative ad unsarcastically silent that day. Initially, he’d concluded that his friend was annoyed at him for ruining the budgeting, over-spending on paint. It sounds dumb in hindsight, but it’s the first time in a long while Lewis remembers being unsure on the direction of Arthur’s thoughts or reaction to a problem.

“Maybe” He responds noncommittally, wounding how to describe the weird disconnect out loud.

“This is going to sound weird…” Vivi continues, tapping her food to show her renewed agitation, “But I swear his face was moving funny that day.”

“Moving funny?” Lewis raises a brow at the odd statement. She shrugs loosely, leaning into him a bit more, so he’s supporting her full weight.

“Yeah, it was like, his face was different. Strange. I don’t know. Is that weird?”

“A little,” Lewis admits, catching Vivi’s thoughtful expression. Together they mull over the conundrum in more comfortable silence. Despite managing to narrow down a potential start date, they make little progress on possible causes, leading to more frustration.

Finally, a navy-blue pick-up truck with a compacted cab and shallow flat-bed slows along the main road, pulling off and forcing them to shelve any further conversation.  Vivi is up and moving before Lewis gets a chance to really process the arrival, knocking both him and Mystery to the side. While Lewis picks himself up, Vivi hails the driver, a darker-haired, flannel wearing middle aged man. The man, probably Jamie, waves a response, jumping from the vehicle, meeting Vivi halfway.

“I take it you’re the couple looking to buy a truck?” Lewis hears a confused greeting, drawing closer, close on Vivi's heels. Jamie is giving both him and Vivi a perplexed expression. Between Vivi’s blue and his purple, they make quite the pair, so the hesitation isn’t entirely unfounded.

“Is this the pick-up? It’s small,” Vivi steps to the side, dodging around Jamie and his outstretched hand to stare at the truck, “I thought it would be bigger.”

“It’s compact,” Jamie grunts, swivelling awkwardly to track Vivi’s quick progress past, calling, “One of the reasons I’m selling actually, not enough space for equipment.” Lewis represses the twitch threatening at the corners of his mouth.  Vivi’s complete disregard of social queues is as amusing as it is exasperating.

“Hey, I’m Lewis,” He introduces, catching Jamie’s outstretched hand. If there is one thing Lewis abides by, it's the idea that being friendly and making people like you pays off in the long run, even if it is emotionally exhausting and the last thing he really feels like doing.  Another grunt and the handshake is returned, “Name’s Jamie. Nice to meet you I suppose.”  Lewis is the subject of a critical once over and more confusion. The copious amount of purple tends to do that.

“Your cousin said this is good for an eight-hour drive? Is that true?” Vivi yells from where she is circling the truck. She hoists herself up, leaning in through one of the open windows, checking the interior.

“We have to get to a town called Tempo. It’s eight hours away,” Lewis elaborates quickly,  “The truck looks pretty new?”

“That’s because it is. The thing’s several years old but barely seen any use. What do you need to go all the way to Tempo for?”

Lewis starts to respond but hesitates when Vivi calls, “We’ll take it. $2500 right?”

“What,” Jamie stalls, turning to stare past him at Vivi, who is now crawling out from under the truck, where she’s presumably been checking for rust and or other defects, wiping dirt off her skirt.

“Right now?” He glances at Lewis as if to confirm, to which he nods, reinforcing her verdict. Neither of them knows a whole lot about cars, but they’ve spent enough time around Arthur that he trusts her ability to spot any potential problems.

“Yes. This second even…” Vivi presses.

Jamie, now squinting between them, narrows his eyes ever so slightly in obvious suspicion, “Yeah. I mean, there’s paperwork, we have to transfer the registration, and insurance…that’ll only take a few hours….You’re sure?”

“Definitely sure. Is it possible to do the paperwork stuff later? We really need to get going right this second.”

“Are you two in some sort of trouble…because I don’t want to be involved in none of that.”

Lewis waves the concern aside, projecting as much confidence as he can muster given how out of sorts he’s feeling. This is what all those hours spent gossiping and chatting with Tempo’s locals have prepared him for, convicting a random man to trust them not to screw him over.   “We’re not in any trouble or going to cause trouble. However, our friend might be. We need to find him as quickly as possible.”

“Right…” Jamie hesitates, expression clearing.

“He drove off with our only form of transport.” Sometimes, it’s best to give a bit of truth to build a better repour.  

“That’s rough…” Jamie scowls but appears a little more accommodating, “I suppose we could sort something out. But I’ll be taking both your details. If you go off and crash, I’m not taking any responsibility.” Lewis nods gratefully. Across the carpark, Vivi grins, relief splashed across her features, making the whole exchange worth it.

After paying the $2500, exchanging identification, contact details, signing a proof of sales, and a guarantee to register and insure the vehicle upon reaching their destination, they have their mode of transport. While Vivi jostles Jamie through the process, flicking through paperwork, and enlists the help of receptionist Claire to print and photocopy documents, Lewis finishes packing, throwing most their bags into the empty truck-bed. Overall, in no small part due to Vivi’s perseverance, they end up leaving a mere two hours behind Arthur. Lewis has never been more appreciative of her  ‘charge blindly ahead’ attitude until now. Thank god one them doesn’t turn into a useless over-emotional lump at the first sign of misfortune.  Does that make him a bad person?

Both Jamie and Claire gather to watch their departure. The truck lurches awkwardly, Vivi acquainting herself with the unfamiliar size and weight. Lewis grips the inner door handle, a bit of motion sickness mixing in with worry and other more unwelcome emotions.  With Vivi focused entirely on driving, Lewis is left once again to think in silence. Till now, Lewis has been doing his best to ignore it, but there is no denying the uninvited trickle of anger, underscoring everything, growing steadily. A small part of it is directed at Arthur, for not telling them what was wrong and thinking he had to face his problems alone. A more significant portion of it is directed at himself, his lack of control, his failure to recognise Arthur’s hate as fear, and for feeling the emotion in the first place. Mostly, the anger is purposeless, a foundation for his worry, apprehension and fear. However, if Vivi is right. If something is messing with Arthur and causing this sharp divide between the two of them...

Lewis clenches his fist.

NOTE: Lewis exercising his high charisma stats. Also, this part required way more words than I initially planned. Do people enjoy these character focused sections or does everyone just want to see the plot progress?

Part 27: here

[artificialqueens]

Free Falling, Chapter 5: Love in Vein (Branjie) - writworm42

A/N: thank you grapefruit for the title idea & for beta-ing, and to holtzmanns for cheering me on and being amazing. I had a lot of trouble with this chapter and holtzmanns was the one who helped me switch directions to get through it!!

It was coming up on month four of Brooke’s time at Charles-Visage, and things were going so well that Brooke could hardly believe it. Patient flow efficiency was up by 30 percent. She was a few steps away from getting a strategic plan committee off the ground. And, after some sleepless nights and a few weeks of talking with staff and families around the unit, she had discovered that if donations and revenue kept flowing at their current pace, it was very possible that they would be able to add two new beds. All she needed was the board’s buy-in, and the unit could be quite literally bigger and better than ever before.

Yes, everything was coming up Brooke Lynn. And the best part of it was that every day, at 12 noon sharp, she had a beautiful woman show up at her door and ask her to lunch. It was funny; when she first started, if someone had told her that Vanessa would wind up becoming one of the people she was closest to at work, she probably would have looked at them like their brain was spilling out of their ears. But as it turned out, she and Vanessa had a lot in common, and the more time Brooke spent with her, the more she wanted to be around her.

The only problem was, the more time Brooke spent with Vanessa, the less sure she seemed that Vanessa felt the same way about her. It wasn’t anything that Vanessa was doing, necessarily, or even anything she was saying. At least, not outright, not that Brooke could prove or even coherently express, not really.

It was more that, when Brooke looked up at Vanessa sometimes, she could have sworn she saw Vanessa’s eyes sliding off of her at the last second.

It was more that sometimes when Brooke leaned too close, Vanessa would jump back, red-faced and almost in a panic.

It was that sometimes, Vanessa would space out completely when they were talking, only to blush fiercely and tell Brooke to keep going, that she really was listening.

She’d heard the talk around the unit, joined in laughing at some of the jokes, even. Ariel calling herself a useless bisexual; the two moms of a patient laughing about being mistaken for sisters again, just because they needed to laugh about something; A’Keria threatening to drown 1712’s boyfriend in chocolate Ensure if she caught him trying to sneak in with mashed potatoes one more time. But then there were the ones about Vanessa, the ones that Brooke overheard but was somehow never a part of. Ones that she was almost certainly a punchline in, but never privy to laugh at.

Girl, what you mean, cat food smells gross? First of all, ain’t nobody talkin’ to you. Second, we all been knew you like a nice little meow mix to snack on now and again. Especially if they that good Canadian recipe.

Hey, Vanjie, you ever noticed how much braids look like ropes?

Brooke didn’t have any proof, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the punchline of the jokes.

The unit had her number, and they knew it. But surely, that didn’t mean that Vanessa was queer, too? No, that would be too easy, too incredibly good to be true. They were probably just joking around, probably just poking fun at how much time she and Vanessa were spending together.

She couldn’t tell if she was meant to know who they were talking about. And even if they weren’t, even if Vanessa was gay, that didn’t mean she was interested in Brooke.

Except that sometimes, Brooke swore that Vanessa lingered a little too long when they parted ways at the end of the day, almost like she didn’t want to leave. Sometimes, Brooke could swear she caught Vanessa staring at her mouth instead of her face when they talked. And sometimes, Brooke swore she felt Vanessa’s eyes on her ass when she was walking away.

But that was probably just wishful thinking on Brooke’s part.

“You know, I think you should go for it.” Nina mused one night as they walked out of the unit one evening, peeking into the allied health office and waving by to Vanjie as they went.

“There’s nothing to go for.” Brooke retorted flatly.

“Mhm.”

Brooke had to seriously resist the urge to smack the disbelieving smile off of Nina’s face. But Brooke’s skepticism wasn’t uncommon around the unit; rather, it seemed to be growing.

“Hey, Brooke! Brooke!” Brooke walked into the unit the next morning to be flagged down by Plastique, who waved her over to where the majority of the staff–except for Vanjie and Nina, she noted with suspicion–were gathered, a few of them elbowing each other and then setting to whispering busily amongst each other as Brooke approached.

“Oh, hey girl.” Yvie pretended to only just notice Brooke, her charade not even cracking when Brooke rolled her eyes, “We were just talking about Vanjie.”

Brooke tensed a little. “What about her?” She hated how interested she sounded, hated the fact that she actually was interested, and a little nervous, afraid that the others would notice, afraid of what they would say.

“She’s got a date!” Mercedes chirped.

And there it was.

“Good for her.” Brooke felt like she’d been kicked in the chest, but she swallowed the pang of jealousy and hurt down, forcing herself to put on a brave face. “Who’s her date?”

“Some girl from tinder.” Plastique cut in, grinning, “I think her name is Kalorie?”

“Oh.” They could be lying; they could be trying to set her up. They could be trying to sniff something out, stir up some drama, create something to talk about.

And then Vanessa walked by, and Kahanna called to ask her if the girl’s name is Kalorie, and Vanessa… Vanessa just looked at Brooke, really looked at her for a second, the expression in her eyes unreadable, and kept walking.

“Brooke?” Shuga prodded, but Brooke wasn’t listening any more.

“Huh? Oh.” Brooke came back to focus, a pit opening in her stomach as she surveyed the expectant faces around her. But, despite herself, she smiled. “Good for her. I can’t wait to ask her more about it later!”

With that, she turned on her heels and sped down the hallway, sighing with relief when she finally shut herself in her office, collapsing at her desk.

It was over. Vanessa was going out with other girls. She was actively in the market for other girls. If she had any interest in Brooke at all, she would have pursued her instead, right? And okay, even if that line of thinking was probably more than a little dramatic, who knew how that date would go? If the women Vanessa dated were anything like she was, then this Kalorie would be gorgeous, positive, thoughtful, passionate, funny, creative… so many things Brooke would never be able to measure up to. And Vanessa and Kalorie would probably hit it off, then start to for real date, and pretty soon, Mercedes would be officiating their wedding in the hospital chapel.

Yep. Brooke might as well butter her dreams right then and there, because as far as she was concerned, they were definitely, absolutely toast.

She drags out some paperwork and starts moving through it, the meditative rhythm of her work soothing her and making her forget her woes. Open, sign, flip, sign, file. Open, sign, flip, sign, file. Open, sign, flip, sign–

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Hey, Mary.” Vanessa pushed through into the room, smiling, and Brooke found herself smiling back despite herself, a mellow, comforting warmth spreading through her chest.

“Hey.” Brooke chirps, cringing inside at how sunny her voice comes out. “What can I do you for?”

Vanessa looked at her like she just announced she was leaving the hospital to become a stripper.

Jesus Christ.

“I, um… What do you need?” Brooke coughed meekly. There was a beat, but then Vanessa nodded.

“I just need your signature on some stuff.” she shoved a piece of paper towards Brooke, but then stopped, shifting on her feet a little and staring at the ground. “And also, um… I have some free time but I already finished my documentation, so I thought we could…”

“Oh, yeah, sure! I wasn’t really doing anything that needs brain power anyway.” Brooke leaned back in her chair and gestured for Vanessa to take a seat in front of her. As she expected, though, Vanessa forwent the chair to perch herself on Brooke’s desk, hovering over her with her legs crossed across the mahogany surface.

“So,” she said breezily, “What’s goin’ on with you lately?”

Brooke cocked an eyebrow. “I could say the same to you. I heard you’ve got a hot date.”

“Oh.” was it just Brooke, or did Vanessa’s face fall a little. “Yeah. That’s no biggie, honestly. Ariel kept buggin’ me to get out there, you know. But I’m not that into it, I was probably gonna cancel, anyway.”

Brooke’s heart soared, hope suddenly blooming in her chest. “Oh, really?” she tried to keep her voice cool, tried to sound like she wasn’t about to get up and dance in relief, “That’s too bad. But yeah, you should probably cancel if you’re not feeling it. Better to wait for the right person to come around than to get tied up with someone you’re not into, right?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa nodded, her voice going a little quieter. “You’re right.”

[rannadylin]

Ranna’s Guide to Knitting Your Next Sweater

Step 1: Finish a sweater! Otherwise, this would be a guide to knitting your first sweater, and obviously it isn’t *gestures at the title*.

Step 1b-infinity: Seam it. This step somehow always takes the longest, which is why you should have read the pattern more carefully to see how many pieces it was knit in before you started knitting it. Also, sometimes this step does not get finished and we skip to step 4.

Step 2: Block it. 

Step 3: Wear it! Take pictures! Hope it looks good in pictures! Wish it had blocked a little better. Already be thinking about what to knit next...

Step 4: Go through the stack of knitting magazines you hadn’t yet found time to read properly and bookmark the sweaters you thought looked cute and also wearable and also knittable, though this last is debatable.

Step 5: Go to the Stash. Use caution when approaching it, lest you become lost beneath a yarn landslide or something. Sort through the storage containers and/or shelves and/or piles haphazardly arranged throughout the house until you find the bags of sweater-appropriate yarn you bought when there was a great sale years ago.

Step 5b: Count the skeins within each bag and wonder if you were planning on making a vest or possibly a small bag instead of a full sweater when you ordered these?

Step 6: Consult the Bookmarked Patterns again to see their yarn weight and gauge and attempt to match them to bags of sweater-appropriate Stash yarn.

Step 7: Find a calculator. Determine, based on the patterns’ listing of weight and yardage of the recommended yarn, plus the number of skeins called for to make your size (oh yeah, 7b: Find a measuring tape. Attempt to measure your bust. Attempt to figure out how much positive or negative ease this sweater really needs. Attempt to make those numbers fit one of the sizes with four to six inch variations between the options), once again check the number of skeins called for to make your size, do the math and see what yardage and weightage that would take, do the math on the skeins you actually have. Wonder again if the original plan when ordering was a vest? Wonder just how much negative ease you can get away with. Calculate again for the next size or two down in the list. Repeat ad nauseam.

Step 8: Finally find a pattern and a yarn that seem like a match, though alas, it wasn’t the pattern you liked best from that stack of Bookmarked Patterns, nor even the second choice, but it is still in the stack and it is cute so it will do. 

STEP 9, THE MOST IMPORTANT STEP OF ALL: Gauge swatch. Really. I do not do gauge swatches for most knitted patterns, but I have learned my lesson with sweaters. We swatch or we go back to knitting socks.

Step 10: Try a different needle size because the first one definitely didn’t get gauge.

Step 11: Get THE EXACT SAME GAUGE on the next needle size up. Shake your head. Double check the ruler. Sigh. 

Step 12: Go on Ravelry. Do a pattern search for sweaters, in your queue, in the gauge you got regardless of the needle size you used with this yarn that might or might not be enough to make something bigger than a vest. Filter it for the fiber content of the yarn! Filter it for the yardage you actually have! Be amazed when actual sweaters, not just vests, show up in the results.

Step 13: Open all the cutest results in new tabs.

Step 14: Examine the cutest results more closely. Look at finished projects and attempt to determine whether your actual size would look as good as the tiny one shown on the pattern’s model. Do more math to make sure the yardage is still within the skeinage you bought back when you were [obviously] thinking of knitting vests.

Step 15: Having narrowed it down to two or three that could actually work in this yarn at that gauge, check the pattern source. Discover that, while two of them are available for a very reasonable price but one which you have not yet paid, having just queued the cute patterns awaiting the day that the stars all align for yarn and pattern and what you feel like knitting to work together JUST SO, the third one is from a book in your very own library!

Step 16: Approach your knitting book/magazine library. Wonder whether the book you need is in the neatly arranged bookshelf of books you have had for more than a decade, or in the haphazard stack of books mixed with magazines on the nearby table that have not yet been organized into that shelf, primarily because the bookshelf is already full and there is no room for another knitting bookshelf anyway.

Step 17: Peruse the table stacks first. Rediscover so many books you had such fun looking through when you first got them, but you have not yet knit anything from [most of] them! Delightedly discover the book with your chosen pattern in the middle of the stack!

Step 18: Keep looking through the stack anyway because these books are really nice. Finally go away with not just the book in question but a whole stack of old friends to catch up on. Half hope that you won’t find anything even more suitable to that vest-sized bag of yarn, because then you would have to do the math all over again.

So. I think my next sweater might be Victoria, from the Refined Knits book on top, in that shiny green yarn (Sugar Rush, Queensland Collection, Sugar Cane Viscose which is sort of a cottony/rayon-y type of yarn and REALLY SHINY and will be nice for summer wear? and I have 1370 yards of it and my gauge is 24st to 4″). But I will let you know if that changes after I catch up with the rest of that stack. ;-D

[brendanmoviedate]

Yer fond of me lobster ain’t ye?

Another year, another broken promise that I’d write more often. I’m not going to fool myself going forward and expect I’ll be able to keep up with reviewing every movie I see. However, I’ll continue to write my year-end movie review and perhaps a couple here and there when I feel inspired. 

Looking back to last year’s post, I wouldn’t make too many changes, though I would certainly move Into the Spider-verse slightly higher up. I would also consider adding Upgrade to the list for how brazen it is.

Most of the films I called out as ones to watch for 2019 ended up being either on my list or in the composite image, which goes to show that it’s worth getting excited for new films more often than not.

Vancouver being the way that it is, sometimes we don’t get timely releases of films when other cities do. As a result, I haven’t had a chance to see 1917 and Uncut Gems yet. The latter of which I’ve been dying to see for months and would probably feature on this list. 

Here’s the 10 best films I’ve seen from 2019:

10. John Wick: Chapter 3: Parabellum

Whereas John Wick: Chapter 2 was the perfect escalation of its pared down predecessor, Chapter 3 is merely an excellent continuation of the newly minted franchise. However, while not bringing anything entirely new to the world of John Wick, it is still an intensely entertaining film. The first 20 minutes is some of the best fight choreography in the series to date and enough to secure a spot on this list.

9. Long Day’s Journey into Night

From director Bi Gan, Long Day’s Journey into Night is a noirish drama about a man (Huang Jue) returning to his hometown following the death of his father to track down his lost love (Tang Wei). The film is a slow burn that jumps between past and present before descending into a surreal 60 minute single take shot filmed in 3D. Regretfully, the only screening I could attend was entirely 2D, but nonetheless, the sequence was still enthralling. This is the type of film that proves that spectacle doesn’t necessarily need to be tied to tentpole movies.

8.  Booksmart

Olivia Wilde’s directorial debut suggests she has an effortless understanding of comedy. Written by a quartet of female writers, Booksmart feels like Superbad for a new generation (I can’t believe that film came out 12 years ago). Interestingly, Jonah Hill’s sister, Beanie Feldstein stars, alongside Kaitlyn Dever (daughter of the guy that voiced Barney the Purple Dinosaur). While it would be easy to say it’s “the female Superbad,” Booksmart is in fact much more than that. Replacing the misfits trying to get laid story with one about a pair of overachievers realizing almost too late that there’s more to life than good grades lets the film be looser and allows the comedy to happen more naturally. 

7. Midsommar

Ari Aster’s follow-up to 2018′s Hereditary began filming almost immediately after wrapping post-production on his previous film. As a result, Midsommar has that extra layer of a director exhausting himself by putting everything on the screen. Midsommar is a much more mature work than Hereditary and one that took a while to grow on me. My initial reaction was less enthusiastic than it is now, but it’s one of the films from 2019 that has stuck with me the most. I imagine a second watch or the extended director’s cut might raise my appreciation of it even more. 

Florence Pugh gives a knockout performance that when combined with her roles in Little Women and last year’s Little Drummer Girl prove that she’ll be a star in no time.

6. Knives Out

Rian Johnson’s first post-Star Wars film sees him reinvigorated and working with a bigger name cast than he has in the past. Essentially a whodunnit along the lines of Agatha Christie, Knives Out follows Daniel Craig’s southern-fried detective Benoit Blanc as he investigates the murder of a wealthy publisher (Christopher Plummer). In addition to playing with a few plot twists, Johnson includes a couple of structure twists as well that turn the film on its head. 

In addition to Craig’s hammy performance, other standouts include Ana de Armas and Chris Evans as the publisher’s caregiver and grandson, respectively. 

Johnson has hinted at the possibility of more Benoit Blanc mysteries, and as long as Daniel Craig is onboard, I’ll gladly watch them.

5. The Lighthouse

In Robert Eggers’ followup to The Witch, Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson play a pair of lighthouse keepers in isolation. As would be expected, The Lighthouse is a paranoia-fuelled chamber piece, with Dafoe’s gruff experienced lighthouse keeper getting on the nerves of the younger Pattinson. And while this setup allows the two leads a chance to really dig into the 19th century dialects, the film takes the occasional departure into the eldritch for a very unsettling film. 

As with Black Philip in The Witch, there’s a standout animal character in The Lighthouse - fittingly, a seagull.

4. Once Upon a Time ...in Hollywood

Quentin Tarantino’s presumably penultimate film is perhaps his most mature work, ruminating on the idea of legacy and the film industry as a whole. Once Upon a Time ...in Hollywood is almost a Tarantino hangout movie reminiscent of parts of Jackie Brown and Pulp Fiction. A lot of time is spent on scenes that don’t necessarily lead to the film’s climax, but allow the characters room to breathe and feel real. Other than the historical event hinted at throughout the movie, the film doesn’t seem to have a particular direction, which allows you to live in the lives of these characters more than if it was purely plot driven.

The main cast of Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, and Margo Robbie is great, but it’s Pitt who puts in a career best performance. There’s a quietness and a sadness to his character that brings some added depth to an otherwise bold cast.

3. Ad Astra

Brad Pitt’s other great performance this year is in James Gray’s Ad Astra. Having seen Gray’s The Lost City of Z and purposefully avoiding trailers and reviews, my expectation for this film was a reflective voyage centred around the ideas of obsession, loss, and family. All of these ideas were present in Ad Astra, but the real surprise was how seamlessly a space opera was added into the story. I never thought I’d see a lunar shuttle chase, but I’m glad I did.

The amount of casual sci-fi world building in the film is staggering, with entire premises treated as banal. We get to see Pitt’s Clifford McBride travel from Earth to the Moon mundanely on a commercial flight. Most films would take the opportunity to spoon feed to the audience why this is odd, but Ad Astra treats it as normal as the characters do, making it all the more fascinating.

2. The Farewell

Starring Awkwafina, who has quickly shot to stardom after featuring in Crazy Rich Asians, The Farewell gives the actress the chance to stretch her dramatic muscles playing Billi, who returns to China to visit with her grandmother who has cancer. Billi’s family insists on keeping the grandmother’s illness a secret from her so she can live out her life in happiness, while Billi struggles with the morals of lying to her grandmother. This premise allows for not only the comedy of misunderstanding, a staple in comedy, but also emotional tension and the devastation of preparing to send off a loved one. 

The comedy-drama balance is handled expertly by director Lulu Wang, making The Farewell the movie I both cried at and laughed at the most this year.

1. Parasite

Had you told me a couple of months ago that my picking Parasite as the best movie of the year could be considered a safe choice, I would have scoffed. Yet here we are, and Parasite has widely been hailed as the best film of the year. I suppose in hindsight it’s not hard to see why. It’s both a crowd-pleasing film and a film that’s deeply disturbing and thrilling.

After having seen Bong Joon-ho’s last five movies, one would be forgiven for expecting a linearity in Parasite. Most of his films tend to have a point A to point B element with an expected (though often subverted) outcome. Heck, Snowpiercer is about a group of people moving from the back of the train to the front, one car at a time. Yet Parasite is different. The film sets up a premise you only find out about as it happens and is quickly overturned once you’re comfortable with it.

I saw this movie the same day I saw Joker and the difference in how the subject matter of class is treated is stark. Whereas Joker wanted to go all dark and Taxi Driver with the theme, Parasite had fun with it and let the elements of drama, comedy, and horror slide along the theme of class.

Like Bong’s Memories of Murder, Parasite will be one of those films I endlessly revisit.

Honourable Mentions

Films that almost cracked the Top 10 that I wanted to shout out here are Us and Doctor Sleep for being really solid, exciting, horror-thrillers. As well as The Irishman for being a classic Scorcese film that gives De Niro and Pacino ample time to with each other. Finally, I wanted to applaud Avengers: Endgame for not only managing to pull off such an ambitious finale, but to make it so goddamned fun.

2020

This year I’m looking forward to new blockbusters from two of my favourite directors, Christoper Nolan and Denis Villeneuve - Tenet and Dune, respectively. 

Despite the stumble with Spectre, I’m extremely excited for Daniel Craig’s last outing as Bond with No Time to Die, by auteur Cary Fukunaga. I can’t wait to see how his style meshes with the Bond template. 

Also of great interest are the new films from David Fincher and Edgar Wright - Mank and Last Night in Soho.