#anyway my mom was thinking of maybe knitting him a cat sweater over christmas

[airenyah]

boy cat was screaming at the door wanting to go outside and i told him "sweetie no, it's late and also it's really cold outside and we don't have a coat for you yet" but he didn't believe me so i grabbed his harness and took him on the balcony and and it took maybe 60 seconds or so of sniffing around on our balcony until boy cat hopped back into the living room

he is no longer screaming at the door wanting to go outside

[passivenovember]

If Snow Loves the Trees and Fields.

Billy's job at Willowbrook Elementary is the only reason he puts up with this weather at all.

His hatred for winter, a season which hardly existed when he taught in the Valley, morphs and becomes something violent on the first Monday after Christmas break.

He wakes up feeling like his toes have gone missing, frozen black and blue with the cold, and after his phone tells him it's below zero outside, with wind-chill, his heart stops beating.

Hawkins is -10 degrees, to be precise.

And it leaves him feeling like that's gotta be illegal, or. He could for sure call all the scientists on Earth and have a law passed that clarifies: those born and raised in a Southern climate get a free pass on days when Hell is actively freezing over.

But it's not snowing today. And all the ice on the street has been scraped into terrible, disgusting drifts that block his driveway, and Hopper would immediately call bullshit. All, gonna have to suck it up if you wanna live here, buttercup.

So Billy decides to be an adult, or whatever. He spends another five minutes on his phone definitely not stalking his ex Instagram before rolling out of bed to get dressed.

And, like.

Even his underwear drawer is stiff from the cold so Billy decides to bundle the fuck up--a trick he learned from Max last fall, during the coldest year Indiana had ever seen. He manages to stack five layers in total; one pretty pink thermal set just brushing his his skin and a button down shirt to stave off the goosebumps. A sweater and jeans for professionalism. One Grateful Dead hoodie, because it makes him feel like he's not a total sell out, and a thick winter coat, sent special from the snow capped mountains of California this Christmas.

It still smells like his mom's pikake lei perfume.

Billy tries not to think about that, of home, on a day when he'd give his left nut for a ray of sunshine.

Instead, he spends ten minutes filling his thermos with coffee. Boiling the rice milk more than once so it'll stay warm on the ride across town. He sticks his pinky under the lip after his third go, and fuck that shit is so hot it will burn his mouth tomorrow, before checking the weather app again for closures.

Hoping against hope that something has changed in the last five minutes.

Of course, nothing has.

The superintendent believes that everyone in Hawkins is somehow used to temperatures that makes their eyelids freeze shut in the thirty second walk to the car in the morning. Billy jams a knit cap on his head and seriously considers calling in.

A last ditch effort to quell the rising fury in his veins, that like.

He's gonna have to scrape his windows, and freeze his dick off, and deal with the neighbor.

The one who looks like he doesn't mind the cold so much because he carries the sun with him, fucking asshole.

People shouldn't be wandering the streets when their eyelids could freeze shut, right?

Billy checks his phone one more time, frowning at a text from Joyce to pick up some coffee on your way in, and tosses his bag over his shoulder before he can change his mind.

--

It's so much worse than expected.

Billy's lungs seize up on his second intake of fresh air because no one should be huffing sulfur or gaseous ice or whatever the fuck this shit is first thing in the morning. On a Monday. The first one after Christmas break, and.

"God damn, holy shit, holy shit,"  Billy bounces the whole way to the Camaro, breath coming in short, comical bursts of steam that make his nose run. He swipes dramatically at his face, struggling to get his keys into the lock while balancing his thermos on one arm and his messenger bag on the other.

Billy's in the middle of forcing the door open, its hinges are frozen solid with ice goddammit, when Steve fucking Harrington appears like a cloud on the wind.

"Howdy neighbor," Steve says. Like they're cowboys in a shitty film from the 1970s. The wind kicks a lock of brown hair into Harrington's face and he shivers. "Wow, it's really blowing out here, huh?"

Midwesterner's love doing that.

Pointing out the obvious.

Billy grumbles a response, flinging his car door open and jamming the keys into the ignition.

Steve's saying something.

Talking like always, about his cat or maybe the beer they keep saying they'll have together, and generally Billy puts up with it but not today. He isn't going to freeze to death for a pair of legs.

The Camaro roars to life, clearly pissed at having to work on such a disgusting day, and. Alright. Letting your car "warm up," is something so Midwestern Billy can't even talk about it.

It takes him all of two minutes to scrape his windows, electing to carve holes in each wall of ice rather than clear the whole thing. The metal handle of the scraper Max got him feels like the ninth circle of hell against the peachy skin of his fingers.

He should've bought some mittens.

Joyce is always saying he needs mittens, he should've asked for some--

Billy tosses the scraper into his back seat and climbs in, slamming the door shut behind him and cranking the heat up to high. Steve's watching from next to the fence in a fucking pea coat, and a scarf with care bears on it and.

Nothing else.

Fucking asshole.

Steve waves at him, like; hey I'm talking to you. Frantically, like the mouse Mr. Bane caught last week is important.

But Billy's too busy trying to back out of the driveway with five layers of shit restricting his movement. He cranks the music up and cautiously pulls onto the street. Nice and smooth like he's seen Steve do effortlessly, even with three inches of ice on the ground. Fucking asshole.

Billy makes it halfway before he hits something.

The wind kicks hair into his face as he assesses the damage.

"You should've scraped your driveway last night." Steve says helpfully.

He's got a cigarette hanging from his lips, stark in contrast to the weird home made scarf he's got folded around his neck. Billy tries not to think about Steve's lips as he makes his way to the back of the Camaro to see that, yup.

Of course.

His baby is stuck in the snow. Billy kicks the tire. Like that'll fix anything.

"That's not gonna fix anything." Steve says, leaning against the fence.

"Jesus, fuck. I know, Steve." Billy scrubs a hand across his face, gesturing to the Care Bear scarf. "Why the hell are you wearing that thing, you look like a fruit."

"I am a fruit."

"Well you look like the whole goddamn bowl, pretty boy." Billy digs around for a cigarette. "My kindergarteners don't even fuck with the Care Bears enough to own scarves." Billy squints, assessing Steve from head to toe, delighting in the awkward squirm of his limbs. He clicks his tongue, disappointed. "Couldn't look any fruiter if you tried."

Steve shrugs his shoulders, like. Don't yell at me, this isn't my fault.

And okay.

He's cute.

Billy gets struck by that every time he sees the guy, all over again, like. His profile is perfect. Sharp nose, pretty eyes. Thick lips.

Steve holds out a cigarette.

Billy takes it.

"One of my residents made it for me. He's learning how to flat pattern." Harrington says shyly. "Well, he made it for his grand daughter, but. It turned out worse than he expected so I offered to take it."

Billy squints. "The fuck does that mean?"

"Just means I was trying to be nice--"

"No, the." Billy grins in spite of himself. "The flat patterning, what's that?"

Steve shrugs again. "I'm not sure, I think it's like. A sewing term. Or something." A pretty blush the color of Steve's scarf spreads across the bridge of his nose. It looks like strawberry ice cream and Billy.

Has to look away.

"My mom sews," Billy says gruffy. "I've never heard her say that."

"Well, maybe she drapes?"

Billy squints again. "What?"

"Draping. That's another thing people do--"

Billy stamps the cigarette out and kicks his tire again. Steve jolts, like. Billy tried to kick him or something, which just makes the situation worse.

"God, they should've cancelled classes." Billy states. Well, screams, to no one in particular. "Who wants to go to work in the snow, who fucking. Likes this white bullshit?"

Steve leans against the fence and looks thoughtful. "I love the snow."

"You're not helping."

"You asked."

"No, I didn't." Billy shoots back. He digs his cellphone out and shakes his head. "Why are you still here, Harrington? Don't you have old people to take care of?"

Steve chuckles again. Light, like Christmas bells. "Don't you have screaming brats to teach?"

"My car's kinda stuck in the snow, you fucking dick." Billy's so focused on trying to order a lyft that he doesn't waste time on pleasantries. He expects that to be the end of it, when the wind picks up and he swears again, but. Steve just moves closer.

"Let me drive you." Steve says.

And.

The moment sort of hangs there.

In the two years that Billy's lived next to the guy, they've never hung out. Never house sat for each other, never spoken outside the occasional could you make sure your idiot friends don't block my driveway, and empty promises to grab a beer sometime.

So the offer catches him off guard.

Billy glances up from his phone, confused, to find Steve looking everywhere but at him. Harrington's shifting his weight, like. He's fucking nervous, or something.

Or maybe hoping Billy will say no because he's just being polite.

Billy glares.

Of course he's just being neighborly. Charitable. That's what Midwestern assholes do.

Billy waves his phone in the air, like, "I'm ordering a lyft." And it comes out sharper. More aggressive than he means it too, but Steve doesn't seem to notice.

"Just ride with me, it's on the way."

Billy points at the screen. "Jason will be here in ten minutes."

"What's Jason got that I don't have?" Harington quips, and.

Billy just wants shit to go back to normal. He shakes his head again, "Nah, 's okay, pretty boy. Thanks anyway." Before turning back to his phone like he's got important shit to worry about.

Steve stands.

Stares.

Waits, for longer than is necessary, before clearing his throat. "Okay, well. Happy first day back." He says.

And if Billy didn’t know any better he'd say Steve sounds almost.

Disappointed.

--

When Billy gets off of work that night the snow is gone from his driveway.

--

Billy still has bad days.

They always start before dawn. With the claws of his nightmare leaving scratches down the lining of his throat. It's like Billy's carrying an anchor around his neck, or his veins are filled with playdough the color of the sun on those afternoons. He feels lazy and sluggish and like if someone looks at him for too long he'll break. Snap and crackle, like an open flame against fresh skin.

Billy still has bad days but they don't come unless he's been slipping for a while. Like forgetting to take his medication, or not writing his letter every night before bed.

The one to Neil, that his therapist says will help him work through the last of the road blocks that stand in the way of, "ultimate healing."

Billy used to think it was horseshit.

But Neil. Everything that happened, everything that still happens--when Billy goes home for Christmas, or when Susan calls and he can hear the slur of hate on the other end of the line--is standing in the way of something.

There are so many letters.

So much he wants to say.

Written on anything Billy can find, like. Napkins and the backs of take out menus--old drawings that the kids send home with him after Art class on Fridays.

The pages are kept in a binder.

His therapist says it's important to decorate the binder with, like. Stuff that makes him feel good. Words and phrases, stickers, pictures of the people he loves and drawings of all his favorite things. The folder is supposed to act as a visual reminder of the blanket of love that surrounds him, or something.

Melvalds only had brown folders when he went to pick his up, so.

The folder is brown. Disgusting.

And so far the only decorations he's been able to stomach are one of those fancy stickers from Redbubble that depicts his favorite episode of Daria, and a picture of him and Maxine with underwear on their heads.

Billy thinks it could be sad to some people.

That a poor, little abused boy only has two things in life that protect him from the shadow which falls with the setting sun, but it's the truth. Life is hard and fucked up. Billy has trouble letting people close, letting people in, so he sticks with the basics. The tried and true.

Maxine and his gravity bong.

Billy Hargrove is a simple man.

--

So it's two weeks after Steve shovels his driveway and Billy tells his therapist, like. "This fucking guy just. Did something nice for me."

And she clearly wonders what's wrong with him. "Did you say thank you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because," Billy tries not to get defensive about shit these days, because. It's only a hop-skip-and a jump from defensiveness to downright aggression and Megan, his well meaning shrink, doesn't deserve that even on her most annoying days.

His leg bounces under the table, thwacking against its mahogany edge loud enough that Megan can hear it over the fucking phone, so she says, "Billy. Stop."

Because they have a deal about nervous ticks.

Billy is supposed to say his safe word when he starts to feel anxious, but.

He fucking hates that shit. Hates being babied. Hates feeling like he's a goddamn basket case that needs to be rooted in reality when his trauma rears its ugly head. Billy smiles, the whole thing falling flat against his face. "I'm stopping."

Megan sighs. "Why haven't you thanked Steve for his act of kindness?"

"Because, like." Billy's shaking his leg again. Softer this time; it's a secret. "How do I know he isn't trying to, fucking. Get information out of me. Or out me to the community, or. Make fun of the way I'm a grown man who can't shovel his own driveway after a snowstorm--"

"I think you're internalizing your fears, Billy."

"Yeah, no shit." He snaps. Billy feels bad for half a second but then she's giggling, like she always does, which makes him feel less like the big bad wolf and more like one of the three little pigs. The guy with the straw, maybe?

Billy sighs, scrubbing at his face. "What does that even mean?"

Megan makes a noise on the other end of the line, like. In the six months that Billy's been in therapy he should've learned this by now.

Dude's got a short attention span, sue him.

And, sure enough. "Twice a week we meet over the phone and you don't know that internalizing your fears means you're trying to write the ending to a story you haven't even read yet?"

"Like, uh," Billy says intelligently. "What's that shit you're always saying? About seeing a book on the shelf and--"

"Guessing the ending. Yup, that's right." Megan sounds pleased. Billy ignores the bloom of happiness in his chest, because like. He doesn't really deserve it. She doesn't give him time to dwell, though. "Steve did something nice for you. Maybe he has suspicious intent--"

Billy sucks in a breath, like.

Dramatic. Loud enough that Megan snorts and says, "Hold on, you're jumping to conclusions again."

Billy really fucking.

Hates how perceptive she can be.

Megan keeps talking and Billy listens, because he pays her after all. "If you're really worried that his intentions are cloudy, do something nice for him in return."

"Something nice," Billy repeats. Like he's never heard of such a concept. "Something nice, like. Buy him flowers?"

Megan snorts. "Do you want to buy him flowers?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"Because you--" His therapist sighs. Billy embraces the feeling it gives him, yanking her chain a little bit. "Listen. I don't know this Steve person, and I've never heard you talk about him beyond this beer you're supposed to have together, like. Never. But has he ever given you a reason to think he's out to hurt you?"

Billy thinks back over two years and a million one-dimensional interactions.

Steve never loses his temper.

Not when Billy calls to have the cars that block his driveway towed, not when Billy bitches about the daisy bushes shedding into his yard in the fall, and Steve always picks up Mr. Bane's cat shit from Billy's front porch when the Gremlin actually goes outside.

Always with a smile and a sweet little, I think Mr. B likes you.

And, like.

It was pretty nice of Steve to offer Billy a ride that morning.

And shovel his driveway after work, just because he knew Billy probably wouldn't do it.

The whole thing, it. Fills Billy with something he can't quite express, a warmth he only ever feels when Max calls a dozen times to remind him to eat dinner when he sends a few intense messages.

Megan takes his silence, as always, like a breakthrough.

"So," She says, clearly satisfied. "Same time next week?"

--

Billy spends three days waiting for Steve to make it easy for him.

Because Harrington's a home owner, and there's always something, right? A problem he needs help with, like. A leaky pipe that needs fixed, a cup of sugar for a recipe that he didn't account for, ghosts in the attic. Typical HOA bullshit.

Billy stares out his window at the lovely split level next door and decides he'll take anything, do anything, to get this fucking anchor of guilt off his back for the whole driveway situation. The opportunity never presents itself.

The ducks never fall in a row.

Steve just leaves the house every morning, same time as Billy, same as always, with a gentle Howdy neighbor. And a smile tugging at his pretty pink lips, hair perfect and windswept because he's a fucking asshole and it only takes two days.

Forty-eight hours before Billy's hatching a plan to pay Harrington back and inventing problems to solve, like some sort of demonic Bob the Builder.

He calls Max on Thursday and comes up with a list. Something tangible, like breaking Steve's garage window with a ski ball. Or trapping Mr. Bane in a sweater and pretending like he's gone missing so Steve will have to round up a search party, but.

Billy knows Megan would call that instigating, antagonizing, and causing trouble, which Billy's trying not to do anymore.

So he brings up flowers again, because.

Fuck it--maybe he's wanted to see Steve behind a bouquet of Lilies of the Valley for months now.

And Max goes all soft.

And quiet, too, before whispering, "I'm really proud of you, you know? For getting better."

Then suddenly Billy can't breathe because there's a lump in his throat.

Because he is trying to get better. To live honestly, to lead with love--whatever hippie-dippie bullshit Megan is always spoon feeding him, so.

With Max's blessing, Billy's about to, like. Knock on Steve's door with a plate of pot brownies and a shitty thanks for being a decent human card when Mr. Bane leaves a dead bird on Billy's porch, the third one in a month, and Billy hatches an idea.

--

Steve's front door is yellow.

Like. Sunshine yellow. Valley girl yellow.

Which Billy used to think was charming but now thinks is kind of annoying, when coupled with Steve's perpetually sunny disposition. And okay. Maybe it sort of pokes and prods at that piece of him that's always missing home.

Maybe it makes him a little bit sad, like. He'll never really feel at peace anywhere else.

But before Billy can dwell on it, or raise his fist to knock on the door, Steve's opening it and preparing to step through. He's using his foot to stop Mr. Bane from running out into the yard so he doesn't see Billy right away, which.

Also means he's going somewhere.

Which inherently means Billy's caught him at a bad time. Billy holds the paper bag closer to his chest and feels the words bubbling up before he can practice his breathing, or. Stop them. Because this is his third biggest fear after arguments and spiders.

"I've caught you at a bad time, I'm sorry, I'll just come back la--"

Steve breaks out into a grin so big. So bright, that it rivals anything Billy's ever seen before.

"Howdy, neighbor!" Steve says.

And Billy shifts nervously from one foot to the other, like. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's not a--"

"Because I can come back later." Billy nods, already turning on his heel to escape, and like. Fly into the sun. "Or not at all. I can just mail it to you, that's. Yeah, I'll just stick it in the post or something."

Steve grabs his elbow.

Billy looks at the hand on his elbow, and down at Steve’s feet. There aren’t any shoes or anything, so.

Billy's overreacting.

Fuck. He swallows, raising his eyes with caution to see Steve smiling again. Even wider than before, if that's possible.

Harrington licks his lips. "Whatcha got there?" He says, nodding to the bag, and Steve.

He's wearing glasses today.

Billy feels like someone hit him on the back of the head with a ski ball. Steve looks so soft, in white stripped overalls and a green sweater, that Billy doesn't know whether to fluff him like a pillow or fucking.

Punch him in the face.

Billy holds out the paper bag. "It's for you."

Steve looks at him strangely but he's still smiling, which.

Is good.

Billy thinks it's good but then he knows its good when Steve giggles. "I gathered that. What is it?"

"It's a, uh. You know." Billy tries. "You know one of those things? Where it's, like, a thing but you aren't supposed to know what it is?"

Steve blinks at him, cheeks turning pink like they always do. "A surprise?"

"That's the one." Billy snaps his fingers, like. Ah-ha. Except it isn't a surprise, it's just. "It's a way to say thanks. For the whole," Billy concludes, gesturing vaguely to their front lawns, to. "The driveway."

Steve blushes even harder. "You didn't have to get me a present--"

"It's not a present."

"That was just me trying to be nice." Steve leans against the door jam, eyes searching. "It doesn't call for a--"

"It's not a present." Billy says again. Steve doesn't look like he believes him, so Billy, like. Shoves the paper bag to his chest. "Look, open it now or don't. Fucking, throw it away for all I care, it's fine."

Billy turns on his heel because fuck this.

Fuck trying to pay back nice with nice and fuck Steve for starting this whole debacle to begin with. Billy makes it down one step and then Steve is laughing so hard he can't stand up straight.

Which just makes Billy feel worse, because.

"You're laughing." Billy gapes. "I bring you a present to say thanks for not being an asshole, and you're laughing."

Steve doesn't answer, he just.

Keeps on laughing, and okay.

This is Billy's third greatest fear. After abandonment and fighting. Fists covered in blood--his or someone else's, it doesn't matter. He frowns, turning to leave again when Steve straightens and coughs once into the palm of his hand.

"Thought it wasn't a present," Steve quips, and he's looking at Billy with, like. Sparkly eyes. He shrugs. "I'm not sure what it means."

Billy doesn't get it. "It doesn't have to mean anything--"

"No, like." Steve peers into the bag again, clearly holding back tears. "Why did you get me a bag of dead mice?"

"You can get them at the pet store." Billy says, because. You can, alright? He fiddles with the sleeves of his winter coat. "They're for Mr. Bane."

Steve just stares at him, eyes twinkling like two polished diamonds in his head.

And he's not saying anything, or. Laughing anymore, he's just. Watching Billy fall to pieces on his walkway as he tries to defend himself.

Billy focuses on the clouds that inch across the sky. "Mr. Bane, he's. He's always catching shit, like. Dead shit and leaving it on my porch. I just thought if he wants to eat dead things I can just. Buy him a pack or whatever. Like a normal person."

Steve grins. "You know they do that because they think you can't feed yourself."

Billy wrinkles his nose. "Well I fucking appreciate it, but I don't want to eat dead mice and birds and shit."

Steve chuckles once before staring again.

Like he's memorizing Billy's face, or like. They're having a competition that Billy doesn't know about.

Billy gestures to the bag again. "Would you just accept it, Steve? Please?"

Harrington looks down at the mice in his hands and nods slowly, like the decision is really requiring some thought.

Billy feels stupid.

This was so fucking stupid--

"Sure, Billy." Harrington says. Soft, and. Sweet. "No one's ever given me such a thoughtful gift before, so. Thank you."

And Billy feels like the tin man getting oil on his joints after a year of rusting in the forest, when Steve accepts his weird ass gesture. He nods, mouth lapsing into a thin, unamused line. "Okay, then. See ya 'round," Billy says.

And then he's turning, and.

Leaving.

Before Steve can say anything else.

The clouds inch like caterpillars across the bright winter sky and Steve's walkway seems so much longer on the journey home.

[fletchphoenix]

Skating On Thin Ice

Chapter 4 of the Varigo Coffee Shop AU is upon us!

Agh, I LOVE WRITING THIS SO MUCH!!! I’m so so sorry if all the content is getting annoying - I really want to get as much as I can done before school starts up again (in a week,,,,aha) so just let me know if it’s annoying y’all. Anyway! Thank you for the support!

Word Count - 3588

TW - Strong Language 

-----------------------------------------

  Varian tied his hair back into a ponytail as he walked downstairs to the kitchen, Ruddiger strutting after him happily. He dragged his feet across the silver carpet in his still-sleepy haze, passing awards and family pictures that were displayed proudly in the main hall of the house. A yawn escaped his mouth despite his attempts to hold it back, and he reached up to rub the tears that built in his eyes away along with the last remnants of sleep. A sleep his body desperately wanted him to return back to, judging by how sluggish he felt. The kitchen door moaned as he pushed it open, taking his time on every movement he took.

  He scavenged through the kitchen for something to eat, all the while Ruddiger mewled and meowed to gain some attention and, while he was at it, some food to eat. Varian eventually gave in, lifting the bowl onto the counter and grabbing a sachet of cat food. He emptied the packet, the tabby cat jumping onto the counter and scoffing it down, causing him to chuckle while he took out the bread and butter from the refrigerator. “Toast it is, buddy.” he uttered to himself as he slid the bread into the device. 

  While the toast was..well, toasting, he climbed onto a counter and opened the cabinet near the stove. An assortment of cups greeted him - all with different colours and various patterns. A certain one met his eye. The corners of his lips quirked up in a smile as the memories came flooding back to him. 

  “Are you sure you want me to have this? After all I’ve done to you..?” his nervous voice asked. He was sixteen again in Rapunzel’s kitchen after his father had woken up from his coma. The aroma of cinnamon was in the air combined with apple, creating the illusion that it was fall in the small room as Rapunzel set aside the gift and took his hands in her own. Her expression was earnest, honest. 

  “Varian..I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. We’ve all forgiven you, regardless of what you may think. You’re family.” she stated with a smile that held nothing but love for the boy in front of her. Tears built in his eyes as he looked over at the silver box, wrapped in a teal bow, set on the kitchen table by the blonde only a few moments prior.

  Taking a seat on the lilac cushioned chairs, he brought the box closer to him with shaky hands and unwrapped the dainty bow carefully, as though it would fall apart at even the slightest amount of force. Upon lifting the lid, he was met with the sight of some paper - matching the color of the bow. Pulling it out, he gasped as his eyes met the mug that had been placed in the box with care. He took it out and examined it in his hands.

  The mug was teal (also like the bow and paper it was packed with) decorated with paintings of test tubes, beakers and a small raccoon on the side. Ruddiger. Unwillingly, his eyes started to water again, tears betraying him and rolling down his cheeks hitting the table cloth below him. “Thank you.” He uttered, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to hold back his tears. Arms came around from behind him and pulled him into a motherly embrace, a gentle kiss being placed on the back of his head as he let himself cry freely. A swift turn allowed him to hug the blonde, his eyes squeezing shut to rid them of the last few tears that had developed in them before he moved away.

  “Me, Eugene and Cass searched for hours, but couldn’t find the right one. Then I thought ‘Hey! Why don’t we paint a mug for him?’ and thus..that was created. It’s okay, right? I tried to put everything I knew you liked on it, but I wasn’t sure, so I had to get Cass to-” Her rambling was cut off as the boy clinged to her with his face buried into the fabric on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she ran her fingers through his raven locks and exchanged the hug. 

  “I love you, Rapunzel. You’re the best sister in the world.” he whispered as he held onto her, his hands gripping onto her shirt as he let himself be vulnerable around Rapunzel. He’d tormented and hurt her so much..but she still cared for him.

  “I love you too, Varian.” She replied, moving out of the hug when he was calmer and ready. “Anyway, Cmon! We need to make you one of my infamous vanilla lattes now that you have your own cup!” She declared, clapping her hands and picking up the cup to start the drink. His eyes followed her as she moved expertly around the kitchen and prepared his drink. A smile steadily grew on his face.

  He was forgiven.

  He was home.

  He seized the cup and hopped down from the counter, closing the ivory door of the cabinet and heading towards the coffee machine. He set the cup under it and started up the machine, leaning against the counter and checking his phone. Wednesday, 8:14am. Good - he woke up in time to get ready for his class at 11. “No messages from Hugo though.” his brain reminded him, disappointment making a heavy weight in his stomach. Maybe he wasn’t up yet? Probably, he reasoned as he took the toast from the toaster and buttered it before grabbing his coffee and sitting at the table. 

  Ever the greediest cat on earth, Ruddiger settled at Varian’s feet and swatted at them with his paw. “Oh my god, you’ve just had your breakfast! No!” he shook his foot to scare the cat away, but he didn’t let up. The evil little bastard continued swatting at his foot until, eventually, Varian let up. “Okay!” he yelled, accepting his defeat as he opened another package of cat food, emptied it into the burgundy food bowl and threw it away. That seemed to do the trick - the stubborn feline finally moving away from the table and leaving his owner in peace.

  “I swear..all you do is eat and sleep all day, every day.” he muttered to himself as he took a prolonged sip of his coffee. It hit the mark - him feeling way more energised as the caffeine kicked in. Taking a bite from his toast, he smiled to himself and looked around the kitchen at the wallpaper that had been wearing away for quite some time, at the window just above the sink that looked out on the garden (that they honestly never used enough now) he used to play in as a kid with his mom, at the small frames across the wall holding precious memories of his childhood from before the incident. It wasn’t much by any means, but it was his home. 

  He glanced at his phone screen again. 8:30am. “Okay, time for me to get ready.” he proclaimed to no one in particular, moving to his feet and scraping the chair back across the kitchen floor. Cringing at the noise, he cast a glance to Ruddiger, who was sleeping contently on the windowsill. He could be so cute sometimes. Only sometimes though. He picked up his plate and cup, placing them in the sink underneath the cat. He reached his now-free hand out and ran it down the cat’s fur gently before heading back upstairs to his room.

  Once he was dressed, opting for a black sweater and navy trousers along with some sneakers, he picked up his bag. Packing in his laptop and chemistry books, he moved downstairs for the final time to head outside. He glanced at the coat rack, pulling on an ink-like coat and a knitted emerald scarf Rapunzel had given him as a Christmas present one year - him silently noting that it matched the color of Hugo’s eyes. (This thought made him feel bubbly - knowing full well Hugo would love it if he saw it. He made a mental note to wear it next time Hugo offered for them to go on a date.) He unlocked the door, scooping up his keys and heading out the door.

  The first thing that he noticed was just how cold the temperature was - the chill travelling down his spine. Nonetheless, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began his journey to the campus, eyes focusing on the floor in silence. It wasn’t long, only 20 minutes, but the chill got to him fast and by the time he’d stepped into the labs, he was shivering intensely. Giving a nod to his professor, he took his seat (second to last row, three seats from the aisle) and took out his equipment, ready to start the lesson. 

  He couldn’t focus - all lesson he subtly scrolled through his phone as he prayed Hugo would send him a text or something to let him know he was okay. He gazed down at the phone screen. Surely he would be awake by now, so why wasn’t Hugo texting him. He huffed and slid back in his chair, desperately trying to keep his focus on the lesson.

  The professor kept them late. Again. Varian hurriedly shoved his stuff into his bag and began rushing down to the library. Wind whistled past his ears and his scarf blew frantically around his neck from just how fierce it was. His cheeks went a deep shade of scarlet, dusting his nose and ears. Freckles sat defined over his face as he made his way past the nameless students and over to Nuru and Yong - who, by the looks of it, had started astronomy without him. 

  “Sorry guys, I was just-” he cut himself off at the sight of Hugo, leaning over Yong and explaining part of the physics work set out in front of him. God, he looked breathtaking. His hair was tied back in its usual small ponytail, with a moss green winter coat around his shoulders and goggles hanging round his neck. He glanced up at Varian and immediately straightened, pushing his glasses up his nose with a broad smile on his face. Fuck. Why did he have to look so good in green?

  “Varian! Hey, I’ve been waiting for you!” he commented, making his way around the table to put his arm round the other boy’s shoulders. The mere action made Varian’s face flush in embarrassment, Hugo not helping whatsoever as he pulled the younger closer to him. He seemed to be revelling in the way he was making Varian a flustered, stuttering mess. “Well then. I know this may be extremely heartbreaking for you, Nuru, but we must be taking our leave now. I bid thee farewell!” he declared, ushering Varian towards the door as Nuru rolled her eyes and muttered ‘Yeah, you wish.’ under her breath.

  “Hold on-what do you mean? Where are we going?” Varian queried, looking up at the taller boy who had just swept him away from his friends with absolutely no explanation. His mood became disheartened as a wicked grin grew on Hugo’s face, him stepping back and raising his eyebrow. “What are you planning, Hugo Atkinson?” he implored.

  “Welllll….” Hugo began as he took Varian’s hand in his own and interlaced their fingers, moving to stand in front of him. “I promised you another date! So I came to pick you up and remembered ‘Shit, it’s Wednesday!’ so I drove to the library and waited! Your friends showed up and you hadn’t yet, so I just..sat down with them and decided to offer my extensive knowledge on literally everything to them. And managed to convince Nuru to give you up for a day so I could take you out. Also off topic but..I’m ninety-eight percent sure she hates me, but as if I care!” he rambled, looking down at the confusion on the raven haired boy’s beautiful face. A smile tugged at his lips. “Long story short, I’m taking you on a date. Surprise!” 

  Varian stood dumbfounded before a breathy laugh left his lips, bringing Hugo down to his level and placing a fleeting kiss on his cheek. “That’s adorable. Go on then, take me away, Casanova.” 

  He relished in the blush that flooded over Hugo’s cheek and the stuttering that followed as he held Varian’s hand tight and led him along the cobbled streets of Corona. They walked and walked until Hugo gestured to a small ice-skating rink in the town centre. “And our date is ice-skating!” he remarked, squeezing Varian’s hand. “I hope that’s okay. I just thought we needed a little switch up from the coffee shop.”

  Varian gasped in excitement and gave a frantic nod. “Hugo, this is perfect! Thank you so much!” he cried as he dragged the blonde along to go and get some skates so they could go onto the ice. The taller boy merely laughed and looked down at the childish excitement on his face. God, he loved this boy so much. It didn’t seem real. 

  As soon as they got their skates on and headed onto the ice, Varian’s mood soured.

  He must’ve slipped a billion times as soon as they got on, finally relenting and heading to grip onto the barrier. His mom took him thousands of times when he was little. Why was he forgetting how to do it now? He let out a groan of frustration and rubbed his face with his hand. Why was this so hard? Now he was embarrassing himself in front of Hugo and Hugo would never want to see him again and-

  “Hairstripe?” a voice came from behind him, a hand resting on his waist. “Hey, no. Let me show you, okay?” Hugo gestured and trailed his hand down, linking it with Varian’s and beginning to glide, moving further and further away from the barrier. 

  It felt like time had frozen, or the universe had fallen away and left only him and Hugo as the travelled in continuous circles round the rink. Hugo squeezed his hand in reassurance whenever he thought he might fall and caught him when he stumbled. It was perfect - just them with no interference from anyone else. It was perfect. 

  After a while, they exited the rink laughing and high on a cloud of pure euphoria with their hands still interlaced and warm. Varian let out a happy sigh and turned his head to look at Hugo, who’s free hand snaked around his waist. “It’s been fun today. I wanna do this again. All the time.” He muttered, moving his hand to cup Hugo’s cheek and rub it with his thumb absentmindedly, his eyes focusing on the way Hugo’s sparkled in the soft light of the lanterns outside. 

  “Varian.” Hugo whispered his name in response, letting go of his hand to rest under the boy’s chin. He tilted his head and began to lean in. Varian’s eyes fluttered shut as they were only centimetres- no. Millimetres apart. He could feel Hugo’s breath on his lips. Just a little more-

  He was tugged back by a hand grasping his collar to see Eugene in front of him. “Varian what the fuck are you doing?! Why the hell are you out here with him?” he yelled and turned to face his little brother. Varian took a mental note on the fury painted over Eugene’s usually relaxed demeanour. “Y’know what? Tell me in the car. We’re leaving.” He grabbed the boy’s wrist and forcefully tugged him towards the car, despite Varian’s struggling and protests.

  Hugo stood dumbfounded and watched as Varian was pulled away from him, tears building in his eyes as he looked at the sidewalk he was left on as the car drove away. He pulled out his phone to make a call.

  “What.” Donella’s voice dripped with annoyance.

  “I won’t be coming in tonight, sorry.” he declared as he hung up the phone. Quietly, he pulled up the hood of his coat and picked Varian’s emerald scarf off the floor before silently putting it on and beginning his journey home. He knew full well he’d suffer tomorrow for that, but it didn’t matter anymore. He pushed his glasses into his hair and wiped away the tears they were hiding, continuing to walk away from the town centre and to his apartment.

  Unlocking the door, he leaned back to shut it before sliding to the floor and letting himself cry unabashedly. Why? Why did it have to be like this? Did life really hate him that much? Now he’d never be allowed to see Varian again-or Varian would find out about everything he’s done and decide he didn’t want someone like that in his life and leave him. Just like everyone else.

  He felt like he’d cried for hours when he finally went upstairs and lay on his bed, letting Olivia out of her cage to sit on the bed beside him as he stared numbly at the ceiling. Maybe that's how it was meant to be. Maybe him and Varian weren’t meant to be together. Someone as perfect as Varian deserved better than him...he let out a pained sigh and turned to face Olivia. “Well Liv..it was fun while it lasted, huh?”

  As soon as they were in the car, Eugene’s tangent had begun. “What happened to texting, huh? To letting your family know you weren’t gonna be there because you were busy with something else? Jesus Christ, Varian, we’ve all been terrified! I have been waiting outside the library since 5! Now it's 8pm! And what’s worse is you were with a criminal! A goddamn CRIMINAL!” he ranted on and on, Varian turning his head and glaring at Eugene.

  “What do you mean ‘criminal’? Weren’t you one before? Never mind that, I was a criminal before too!” he snarled, his head whipping back around to glare out of the car window. He didn’t even recognise where they were driving anymore - the surroundings too dark to see anything.

  “That little shit has been committing petty theft in the area - pickpocketing and all that. And so what if we were like that? People like him never change. I would know!”

  “But we’ve changed, Eugene!” 

  “We’re different to him, Varian-”   “How the fuck are we different to him?!”

  “Varian-”   “NO! Tell me how the fuck we are different to him!-”

  “THAT'S ENOUGH, VARIAN!” Eugene’s voice boomed through the car, stunning Varian into silence as he flinched away from the brunette in shock. His bottom lip trembled and his shoulders shook as he desperately attempted to hold back his tears. “Shit-Varian, I-”

  “Pull over. Now.” Varian stated, his voice oozing with hurt and anger as he kept staring at his feet. Eugene obliged sadly and pulled the car over, watching the younger boy get out and start sprinting into the night. He rested his head against the steering wheel, tears building in his eyes. Well, now he’d fucked up. He hadn’t meant to yell so loud at Varian...fuck. He sighed and began the drive home, praying to himself that Varian would get back safe.

  Once he knew he was far away from the car, he stopped running. He sat on the floor and pressed his head against his knees. In 7, hold 7, out 7, he told himself and kept repeating multiple times. His chest eventually stopped heaving and his limbs stopped aching. He leaned back and stared at the stars in the sky, deep in thought.

  Everything was perfect. He was happy, Hugo was happy..so why did it all have to end so badly? He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought of Hugo. He had to see him again. He couldn’t just leave him. His hands shook as he unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He took one final deep breath and called Hugo. 

“Hello? Varian?” Oh god. His voice sounded so broken. He must’ve been crying this whole time. It was so much different from how it usually sounded. Varian felt his heart shatter a little bit more as he listened to the boy on the other end of the phone. “Varian, whats up?”

 “What’s your address? I’m coming over. Now.” He bluntly stated, more of a request than a question. He definitely needed to see the other boy now, desperately.

   Confusion laced Hugo’s voice as he replied to Varian, a light creaking sounding in the background as he presumably moved to sit up. “Are you sure, Varian? What’s going on-” 

  “Just tell me, Hugo!” He yelled, his desperation clear. “Please. I need to see you.” He added the last part, lowering his voice significantly and brushing his tears away at the other boy’s barely audible ‘okay’ in response. 

  Hugo shut himself up, sending through the address and hanging up on the distraught boy. He lay back on his bed, a frown on his face before heading down the hall to sit in the living room. 20 minutes later, a knock rang through the tiny building and he sprinted to unlock the door, his eyes meeting the tearful boy that he loved so dearly. Silently, he stepped out of the way to let the boy in before closing the door and pulling him into an embrace. The younger gripped onto his shirt and cried, each sob wracking his whole, thin frame. Hugo bit his lip and let out an exasperated sigh.

  This really was going to be a long night.

[pinkstarbeam]

Pidgance Cat Cafe AU

blame @gladelockwood for planting this little seed in my braid. In this AU the cat’s are all adoptable and taken from kill shelters meaning they are given second chances, some have injuries, but the staff takes care of them very well and they also have experts come in when needed for the babs. Also on the summer basketball practice, that’s something my school used to do so I added it in for memories sake from when my brother had to go and do then came home like dead af from heat because we live in the kinda south.

Katie basically was given the job after her brother Matt’s boyfriend, Takashi, better known as Shiro heard that she needed one and seeing as he had seen first hand Katie was good with animals via the Holt’s family dog he figured that she would be a good fit at the cat cafe he worked at with his and Matt’s polyamorous girlfriend Allura

Katie’s first day she falls in love with this small orange kitten that like straight up loves anything electronics wise, got your phone out? This cat want it. She immediately adopts him after her approve and names him Rover though not even a week later she adopts this middle aged cat that always seems to always sleep on the windowsill by the plants so she names her Flower.

About a month into working at the cafe she noticed a guy come in looking around all angry like, Katie being the one of the floor at the moment hurried over to the tanned male to make sure he was okay

“Sir are you okay?”

“Where is Kei-” He stops foot in mouth as he looks down at Katie

The guy, Lance, had originally came to chew out his fellow basketball teammate Keith who had made him look like an idiot at practice only to find instead of the mullet emo teen a cute girl with eyes of honey and hair or caramel.

“Keith?” Katie finished his sentence “He just got off five minute ago.”.

Lance didn’t know what was worse, that he missed tongue lashing Keith or Keith was working with a really cute girl.

Lance went to open his mouth when he felt something rub against his leg, looking down he seen a black almost offset blue cat with eyes brighter than the sky on the sunniest days purring as it rubbed against him

Katie laughed “I think blue likes you, she may not be a kitten, but she is still as wild and loving as any kitten here.”

Lance smiles and picks up the cat, he had came in wanting to pick a fight, but instead was coming home with a new cuddle buddy.

The next day he came back and watched as kittens chased after Katie who was running around on the floor dragging a cat toy while laughing at the cats, the rest of her coworkers setting up for the day, but they didn’t seem to mind her playing with the cats.

“Oh hey Lance!” Hunk called as he came out from the kitchen “Were not quite open yet, but feel free to sit and wait.”

Lance nodded smiling at his friend before walking to a table near where Katie was playing with the cats

He was about to say something when he watched Keith walk up behind her and tickle her

Katie laughed and her body went slack as a defense “Keith you ass!”

Keith laughed “You’re supposed to be working not playing.”

Lance felt slight jealously bubble in him, but it stopped when Shiro walked out wiping his hands on a rag

“Keith leave Katie alone, she’s been picking up your shifts since practice started up.”

Katie shrugged “What are best friends for.”

Keith ruffled Katie’s hair “I owe you.” he said heading back to the kitchen

‘Their just friends Lance calm down.’ Lance thought to himself

Later at practice he decided to get some insight on the brunette he had a growing crush on

“So uh, how long have you known Katie?”

“Why?”

“J-Just wondering! You guys seemed close this morning is all.”

“Oh well, her brother is dating mine, plus when I moved here in middle school she was my first friend.”

“I thought your first friend here was that weird kid that had giant glasses and a metal mouth that always talked about aliens.”

Keith started laughing

“What?!”

“That was Katie! It’s called puberty dude.”

“Well puberty hit her like a fucking truck.”

Keith’s mood changed as he heard Lance’s comment on puberty towards Pidge

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

“What why?!”

“Oh please, everyone knows you’re a player.”

Lance rolled his eyes “I’m a flirt not a player.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Katie doesn’t need a guy like you in her life.”

And with that Keith left the locker room annoyed

Lance grinded his back teeth, he didn’t care what mullet thought of him, he was gonna pursue and prove he wasn’t a player

Another month passes and much to Lance’s dismay Keith fucking blocks all his attempts such as always being his waiter on days when Katie and him work same shifts, and walking/driving Katie home after work so Lance doesn’t have a chance to volunteer or follow

However one day Allura puts out a help wanted sign that Lance snatches up and is like, stop me now fucker.

So now Lance is also working at the cat cafe which weirdly brings in more customers? Like some of the girls that come in squeal over how cute Lance and Keith are and how they are obviously a couple. The rest of the waitstaff finds it amusing as hell.

One day Keith is home sick so Lance takes his shift and finds that other than Hunk who is in the back, its just him, Coran, and Katie working 

He sticks to Katie like glue and learns things about her like she still really likes aliens and cryptids and she actually still has really bad eye sight, but wears contacts in public for convenience

They finally exchange numbers and start texting regularly, when school starts back up they start having lunch together though it irks Keith, but he doesn’t say anything since it makes Katie happy to have more friends to talk to about, and besides Lance is a meme who can talk to her about the memes Keith knows nothing about

Around Christmas, so about half a year later the cafe decides to do a secret Santa gift exchange type party

Lance, the fucking master of ugly sweaters shows up in all his sweatered glory despite the fact that they live in California and it’s literally like 80 out, Lance please you’re gonna get heat stroke.

Katie is wearing a alien t-shirt she made Christmas-y by velcroing a red nose to wear the aliens nose would be, Keith is the only one who is amused by this.

During the party Katie ends up falling asleep on Lance who is using everything in him not to freak out

Matt noticed “She was up all night working on her secret Santa gift, i’ll take her home.”

“N-No!” Lance squeaked “I-I mean i’ll take her, you enjoy the party, I should go home and change anyway this sweater is hot.”

Matt just shrugs 

“Don’t forget to grab the number present you drew when you came in!” Allura called from the kitchen.

Lance grabbed his own bag he brought which was the number Katie drew, 3, and then a box labeled 5 which he couldn’t pinpoint who it from seeing as it was wrapped in plain brown paper.

Once at her house, Lance laid Katie down on her bed upstairs after getting permission from her Mom

Lance smiled at Katie’s room, it was covered in space related things, but still had girly touches like a make up vanity and strong lights

Sitting down at Katie’s desk he decided to open his gift, unwrapping it he felt his heart stop because holy fuck was the gift cute as hell, but it was also from Katie

Inside the box was a hand knitted cat beanie with a letter that said “Thanks for all your hard work! - Katie ‘Pidge’ Holt”

He slid the beanie on as he heard Katie move in bed

“Lance?” she asked

he turned to look at her “No, go back to bed you look exhausted.”

Katie laughed “I need to take out my contacts first.” she said getting up and walking to the bathroom only to return with thick circular frames on, her hair down out of it’s signature side pony,and a retainer in, this was the Katie everyone except him and maybe Hunk had seen

“I brought your gift here so if you wanna open it now before you sleep you can.” Lance added as Katie sat down

“I see you got mine.” Katie pointed out as she grabbed the bag

He smiled “I did, it’s really nice! It’s come in handy for snowboarding trips.”

Katie opened the bag to find inside was an alien head shaped backpack 

“Did you have a feeling i’d pick your number?” she laughed 

Lance shrugged “Well Matt, Keith, and you are all into aliens so I thought i’d get something alien related. Besides if Allura or Shiro got it they’d just give it to one of you guys.”

Katie nodded smiling at the bag “Well thank you very much.”

He nodded “Well I should head home, my curfew is at nine since my Dad is on a business trip.”

“Alright, be safe! Good night.”

“Good night, love you.”

“Wh-What?!”

Lance immediately realized what he said and turned red “N-No I-” he ran a hand through his hair “My siblings, that’s how we say goodnight and i’m just so used to it.”

“O-Oh..” Katie began “I was about to say at least buy me dinner first.”

Lance smirked “Consider it done, seven tomorrow?”

“It’s a date.”