#but i wish i could make him an indoor cat

[acegodzilla]

Feral boy

[boy-above]

hi everyone say hi to this stray cat that's been living in our garage, the neighbors first let us know about him saying there was a sick cat hanging around their yard and wanted our help to catch him so they could "help him" and we thankfully realized a bit later that what they meant by help him was "euthanize him", but they didn't want to say that cause they knew we wouldn't help catch the cat for them if we knew they were just gonna kill it. so we've been nursing him back to health with antibiotics n stuff and he was finally healthy enough that we thought it was okay to let him back outside. he doesn't want to leave the garage though so we leave the door open for him and he comes out every now and again. i don't believe the neighbors Really thought he was beyond saving, they were just tired of having a sick cat in their yard :I i'm glad we were able to save him. here's the handsome man

[hyucksos]

after rain, comes sunshine — huang renjun

pairing: huang renjun x f!reader genre: coffee shop au, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, romance, slow burn-ish wc: 6.7k synopsis: a thunderstorm leaves renjun stuck with his relentlessly cheerful, ever-optimistic coworker— you. you're the embodiment of everything he hates, but as the night stretches on, renjun starts to realise that the things that irritate him the most may not be all that unbearable after all. at least, not if it involves you.

There are three things in this world that Renjun hates.

Early mornings, small talk, and thunderstorms.

He must have done something super horrible in his past life, because it's barely even 3pm, and Renjun has had to go through all three of the aforementioned in that exact order.

He wasn't even supposed to come in to work today, but Donghyuck had called in sick (Renjun finds that hard to believe) and he was the only other person on the roster who knew how to make a Toasted Caramel Cloud Latte. Obviously, that wasn't a good enough reason for Renjun to willingly sacrifice his much-needed sleep, and it seemed that Donghyuck knew that too, because not only was he quick to promise Renjun to cover him for his next shift, the boy had also vowed to chip in to buy the new set of gouache paints he had been eyeing for so long.

That was what got Renjun out of bed, albeit begrudgingly.

The last thing he needed was an extra factor to contribute to his already-terrible mood, but that was what he got anyway when he stepped into the café, only to be met with you.

"Morning, Renjun!" You chirped from behind the counter as you dried down a mug, the café already prepped for opening— you liked to take your time when doing the opening duties, and you found that coming in earlier helped avoid any unnecessary rushing on your end.

Renjun didn't say anything, opting to shut his eyes as he tilted his head to the ceiling. You didn't miss the tick of his jaw as he trudged towards you wordlessly, letting his bag fall from his shoulder to the shelf beneath the cash register.

"You know how to make a cloud latte," he muttered under his breath as he put on his apron, securing it tightly with a double knot behind his back. "Why am I here?"

Despite his less-than-enthused response, you grinned. You've been working with Renjun long enough to know that he's a little bit of a grump, so you didn't take his moodiness to heart.

"Hyuck's your best friend. It would make sense for him to ask you instead of anyone else," you reasoned lightly. "Plus, having company isn't so bad, is it? You'll be out the door before you know it!"

"Citizens are advised to stay indoors..."

Renjun lets out a groan as he lets his head hit the cabinet behind him. It hurts, but not as much as the migraine that's already beginning to form in his temples. And as if to add insult to injury (no pun intended), the sky lets out yet another guttural rumble, reminding him once more of his ill-stricken fate.

"I don't think Seoul's had a downpour this bad in ages," you remark from somewhere at the dining area. Renjun couldn't tell where exactly you are; he had slid down to the floor when he decided to accept his fate fifteen minutes ago, and his only view since are the bottles of syrup and unopened bags of coffee beans under the espresso machines.

And as if to add even more insult to injury, the two of you are the only ones left in the shop. With it being a Tuesday afternoon, most of your regulars are either at work or school. Renjun has never liked working during the rush hour, but God does he wish for that to be the case now.

He looks up when he sees your head pop above the counter, raising a brow at the smile on your face. He knows how awfully cheery you are, but even in a time like this? You must be crazy, he thinks.

"Isn't this nice? I never knew this café could get any cozier."

"Nice?" Renjun scoffs as he finally gets to his feet. "What about this is nice? We're stuck in, I don't know, what might as well be a Cat 5 hurricane, and you think it's nice?"

You roll your eyes, seemingly unbothered by his sharp tone. "You're so dramatic! I've been in one, you know? While I was on vacation in the States. It was a Cat 2, I think, and I promise this doesn't even come close to that! I mean, as long as we're not asked to evacuate, we should be fine-"

Renjun lets out a loud tsk, cutting you off as he unties his apron rashly, the fabric crumpling in his hand.

Your eyes widen when you register his movements. "You're not actually planning on leaving, are you?"

Renjun scoffs dryly in response. "You think I have a death wish?"

"Honestly? I could never tell when it comes to you."

He glares at you.

You quickly round the counter, successfully trapping him before he could escape to the break room. "Look, I'm sure it won't be too bad! Let's just continue to wait for updates. Coffee?"

"I hate coffee," he deadpans.

"You literally work in a café!" You laugh airily, moving to the teabag jars beside the espresso machines. Despite the heater being on, the coolness from the outside is starting to seep in, and you're sure Renjun could feel it too.

He doesn't say anything but huff under his breath as he leans against the cabinets behind him, taking out his phone from his back pocket. You take it that he's done with the conversation.

For a while, it's silent, the only sound apart from the tinkling of your metal spoon the harsh crashing of raindrops against the window panes outside. You think it's calming, but Renjun seems to think otherwise when you see him flinch from your periphery at the sudden flash that illuminates the room, soon followed by a loud boom of thunder.

Instinctively, you turn to him, but Renjun keeps his eyes fixed to his phone, his lips downturned into his usual frown.

"Did you know that lightning is hotter than the surface of the sun?" You remark, crossing the distance towards him with the mug of tea in your hands. Renjun looks up from his phone at your question, his stare blank, but his right brow raises slightly when he realises what you're offering.

He doesn't make the move to accept the mug as he pockets his phone, opting to cross his arms instead. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head. "Huh?"

He nods towards the steaming mug in your hands. "What are you trying to do?"

"You said you don't like coffee, so I made you tea instead! It's Lemon Balm, known to reduce anxiety. It could also improve one's mood-"

"Yeah, so long as I'm still trapped in here, that's not gonna happen," he mutters, turning to face the window outside.

The rain is still as relentless as ever, the skies dark and gloomy despite it being daytime. If it was any other day, Renjun would have already been out the door, making his way home. A regular eight-hour shift is already treacherous enough on it's own— an eight-hour shift with you, while it's raining, on top of that, has got to be one of the worst things that's ever happened to Renjun in a while, which says a lot considering he's literally living in the same timeline as Lee Donghyuck.

Renjun turns to steal a glance at you, no longer at his side as you busy yourself with doing the dishes. As if just now never happened, you're back to humming to yourself, the song only sounding vaguely familiar to his ears. The cup of tea you made him is left abandoned on the counter, and for a split second he feels guilty for having not accepting it earlier.

You see, it's not like Renjun hates you. He's just indifferent, and that makes a huge difference. He's someone who prefers to keep to himself, a concept that you can't seem to fathom for some reason, and he finds your overtly-positive attitude equal parts annoying and draining. Renjun doesn't hate you— he just hates everything you embody, and that's enough to make him stay away.

"Look what I found!"

The last time Renjun heard your voice has to be around a few hours ago, when he decided to move from the counter to one of the couches in the dining area. It wasn't the most ideal considering the floor-length windows still gave him the perfect view of rain that he hated so much, but his legs were beginning to hurt from standing for so long and he didn't really want to sit on the floor and deal with your small talk any longer.

You must have gotten the hint when you decided to leave him alone, retreating to the break room to do God-knows-what— based on the grin on your face now, Renjun has a feeling that he's going to find out very soon.

You bound towards him, settling next to him with something in your hands. Your eyes instantly land on the sketchbook on his lap, but before you could say anything, like utter out a compliment on his drawing, Renjun snatches the pad away from your sight.

"What?" He grunts, cheeks feeling slightly warm for some reason. He had abandoned his phone some time earlier, deciding to peruse his sketchbook to pass the time. It was a good thing he brought it out everywhere he went— as awful of a situation he's stuck in, at least he has something familiar to keep his sanity in check.

Your grin grows wider (Renjun wonders how that's even possible) before you set a box between the two of you.

"I was bored, right? So I figured I'd clean out the break room to pass the time, and I found this! Johnny must have left it here and forgot about it."

Renjun studies the blue box, the words HALLI GALLI staring back at him in bold, yellow font. Oh, hell no. You're the last person he wants to play a card game with— not just because you're you, but also the fact that he just doesn't fare well with games in general.

It's not like Renjun is bad at them— if anything, it's quite the opposite, but the last time he played Halli Galli, he had almost gotten into a fistfight with his friends (he had to receive a kiss penalty from Donghyuck even though he won because Mark kept making up rules as they went along). Needless to say, all their game nights now require the presence of a moderator (not like that has done much anyway considering Jaemin hates intervening in literally anything ever, so Renjun doesn't know why they still try).

"I'm not playing this with you."

"Aw, why not? It's fun! Even for serious people like you," you tease, but Renjun doesn't laugh. Ignoring him, you continue, "we could make the most of this quiet time together."

"Nothing about today has been quiet," Renjun mutters. He's pretty sure you heard him, but you simply brush it off as you open the box, letting the cards fall on the sofa while you place the bell in the middle.

Renjun huffs, knowing he isn't left with a choice. You're adamant, he realises, and even if he weren't to give in now, he knows he'd have to eventually, and he'd rather deal with this now than later on.

You start the game, putting down a card of two coconuts before you glance at Renjun, waiting for him to complete his turn. He does the same (albeit much less enthusiastic than you), his card flipping to the other side to reveal four strawberries.

The game continues on that way, with you practically at the edge of your seat as you anticipate every next move. You had just put down three bananas, and your eyes are fixed on Renjun's hands as he slowly flips his card to reveal... two bananas.

You yelp, palm quickly outstretching to hit the bell, and despite Renjun's obvious disinterest in the game (or so you thought), you're surprised to learn that he's just as quick, his hand clashing against yours as you fight to ring the bell at the same time.

"I definitely got that one!" You proclaim proudly, to which Renjun scoffs.

"No way, you're barely even on the bell!"

"Nuh-uh, look! Your hand is literally on top of mine!" You wriggle your fingers for good measure, causing Renjun to look down at your hand— both of your hands, which are still on the bell. You were right; while most of your palm is covering the bell, only the tips of his fingers are touching the metal surface, the rest of his skin resting idly on the back of your hand. He's never really noticed how tiny your hands are— it's not like he's that huge of a guy to begin with— and the thought somehow brings an unexplainable flush to his face.

He quickly removes his hand, carding through his deck for the sole purpose of having something to do before passing you a card. "You just got lucky," he mutters, clearing his throat.

You giggle. "No, I'm just that good," you sing, waving the card mockingly in front of his face before putting it together with your deck.

Renjun rolls his eyes. You remind him so much of Donghyuck; it's a wonder how he isn't your best friend.

"I used to play this game a lot when I was younger," you quip randomly in the midst of the next round. You do that a lot, Renjun realises, stating facts he didn't ask for when it gets too quiet. It used to leave him not knowing how to react, but if there's anything Renjun has learnt about you in this limited time you've spent together, is that you don't need a response from him to continue talking, so he doesn't say anything.

"I'm an only child, so visiting my grandparents in Jeju was the only time I'd get to hang out with my cousins. We'd do everything together— even stay up late and wake up early the next morning so no time would be wasted. It was a wonder how we never ran out of things to do," you chuckle to yourself, fiddling with the cards in your hand.

"One time, it started to rain super heavily— kind of like right now, actually— all while we were cycling outside. Instead of seeking shelter, we decided to play in the rain. We got home freezing our toes off and I fell sick the next morning, but it was so worth it. I wouldn't trade that moment for anything else," you trail off softly, and Renjun doesn't miss the twinge of longing in your voice. At this point, the game had been long abandoned, your attention now fixed on the rain outside and Renjun on you. You turn to him, the fond smile still playing on your lips, and that is what causes him to look away, only then realising that he had been staring.

"What about you?"

Renjun's brows knit in confusion. "Huh?"

"You don't seem to like the rain very much."

"Yes, because it inconveniences people. Kind of like the situation we're in right now, don't you think?" His tone comes off as a little snappy, but before Renjun could regret it, you're already beaming at him in response. He wonders if you're ever capable of any other emotion apart from happiness.

"Sure, but look at where it brought us! Two friends, bonding, towards becoming even better friends!"

Nevermind. He doesn't feel bad anymore, not when he remembers that this is who he's dealing with right now. Plus, the term friends is a little bit of a stretch, isn't it? He doesn't know anything about you apart from the fact that— well, you're an only child and that your grandparents live in Jeju. He doesn't even know your last name, and he'd like to think that that should be the minimum requirement before considering someone a friend.

He rolls his eyes as he lazily throws his last card, ready to wrap up the game, only to perk up when he sees his lone strawberry face-up with four of yours. Quickly, he reaches forward to ring the bell, grinning in triumph when he realises you hadn't gone head-to-head this time.

"A-ha! I win!" Renjun smirks proudly, too caught up in his victory to realise that he's smiling. It falters when he notices you staring at him— not in defeat, but something much... softer. It looks similar to when you were recounting your memories with your family in Jeju. It looks like Jaemin when he's scrolling through pictures of his three cats in his gallery. It looks like Mark... when he's on FaceTime with his girl whenever they do long-distance.

Suddenly, Renjun could no longer hear the rain thumping harshly against the window next to him. He could no longer see the lightning that comes in flashes, nor does he flinch at the thunder that follows. Only two words form in his head:

Oh, shit.

lee donghyuck [3:41pm] yowww 🔥🔥🔥 [3:53pm] r u alive? lol [4:02pm] wait no like actually r u???? [4:22pm] pls tell me ur sfae omg im gonna start sobbinf and cryin rn dont evne [4:46pm] HUANG RENJUN [5:12pm] NAWWW we really lost an angel today.... jun i hope ur looking up at us 🙏🙏🙏

huang renjun [5:24pm] UP???

lee donghyuck [5:24pm] oh hey lol [5:24pm] wyd

Renjun utters a curse under his breath as he switches to his phone app, bringing the device to his ear immediately after he dials Donghyuck's number. It rings twice before the boy picks up.

"Injun-ah!" Donghyuck's voice is hoarse— so he wasn't lying about being sick. That doesn't make Renjun any less annoyed, though. "I was so worried-"

"Cut the shit, Hyuck. Did you know?"

Donghyuck is silent before he replies, as though carefully choosing his next words. "... Know what?"

"That she likes me."

"That who likes- oh my God. Did she tell you already?" If it's even possible, Donghyuck's already-naturally nasally voice sounds even more annoying now that he's excited while sick.

"What?" Renjun hisses into his phone, glancing around the room to make sure he wasn't too loud. Granted, he's currently alone in the men's room and he's 90% sure you aren't outside eavesdropping, but he could never be too careful. "So it's true?"

"I mean, only because she was so fucking obvious," Donghyuck snickers before he breaks out into a fit of coughs. "I'm surprised it took you this long to notice."

Renjun groans. "How the hell was I supposed to know? She talks to everyone the same way!"

"Dude, have you seen the way she looks at you? It's like when Jaemin looks at Luke, Lucy, and Lu-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it, alright?" Renjun grumbles. "Shit, what should I do now?"

"Um, nothing? It's not like you're even supposed to know that she likes you," Donghyuck quips plainly. "Dude, why are you even freaking out? Wait- do you like her back?"

"No!" Renjun exclaims, a little too quick for his own liking. Maybe it's because he could practically see the teasing smirk on his friend's lips, or maybe it's just the suggestion that sounds so fucking absurd he had to shut it down immediately. "It's just- look, I've been nothing short of mean to her this entire time so I kinda feel bad, alright? Why would she even like me like that? I mean- is she some sort of masochist, or something?"

Donghyuck guffaws, clearly not about to let his embarrassing stuttering slide. "Okay? And why are you so worried? Since, you know, you don't like her like that and all."

"You're hopeless," Renjun mutters, not bothering to bid Donghyuck goodbye before he hangs up. He should've known that the boy is the last ever person he should seek advice from; Jaemin would have made for a better candidate.

But calling Jaemin now would only be suspicious, and Renjun knows it would only be a matter of time before you would knock on his door to ask if he's doing alright— because that's just who you are as a person.

Huh, maybe he does know you better than he thought.

Renjun has long given up hope that he'd be going home tonight. The thunderstorm is still as relentless as ever, the skies growing even darker now that the sun has set. The café is bathed in a warm light, and under a different circumstance he would've found it cozy.

You're situated behind the counter now, probably having moved there when he was in the restroom. Instead of going back to the couch, Renjun finds himself heading towards you. He doesn't know why.

"Forecast says the rain won't stop until morning." You don't look at him as you say this, and Renjun quickly notices the two cups of instant noodles you're currently busying yourself with, the rising steam swirling lazily in the air. You only turn to him once you're done mixing the noodles, a sympathetic smile on your face. "Looks like we'd have to stay the night."

"You sound oddly sad for someone who claims to love the rain." Against his better judgement, the words slip out of his mouth. Renjun thinks it must have something to do with his conversation with Donghyuck earlier, because why does he feel like he's being weird all of a sudden?

You merely shrug, handing one of the cups to him. This time, he accepts it, and Renjun tries not to flinch at the feeling of your fingers brushing against his.

"Well, I still do! If I could, I'd run outside right now and play in the rain, but the news just issued a lightning alert and I'd rather not risk getting struck, you know. Besides, staying inside isn't all that bad," you quip lightheartedly, a small grin on your face as you bring your chopsticks to your lips, blowing on your noodles lightly.

Renjun doesn't say anything, his brows only furrowing at your response. How is it that you're still so cheery even after everything that's happened? It's as though you didn't just find out that you're literally stranded here with no way home until the next morning.

The room illuminates momentarily when thunder strikes, and this time, Renjun does flinch. If he wasn't already holding on to his cup of noodles so tightly, it would have already spilled all over him. Clearly, you notice, and you don't look away quickly enough to act like you didn't.

"You know, I've learnt recently that a lightning bolt is only as wide as your thumb, but it could stretch on for miles," you say as you swallow your food, showing a thumbs-up as you grin at him playfully. "It's kind of crazy, right? How something so small could be so powerful?"

Renjun clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes momentarily. "Alright," he mutters, placing his cup on the counter. "Why do you keep doing that?"

You raise your brows, lowering your hand. "Doing what?"

"That. Every time it gets loud and I- I startle, you tell me some random fact, as if it's going to magically drown out the thunder."

"Well, it works, doesn’t it? It’s my secret technique to distract you! And think about it this way: every time it thunders, I get to share a cool tidbit with you. Like how lightning can strike the same place twice!”

"Yeah, because that makes me feel so much better," Renjun mumbles, though he finds that the edge in his voice has softened.

"Oh, relax." You roll your eyes jokingly. "Lightning only often hits tall structures like trees or skyscrapers, so you’re safe here with me.”

He scoffs. "Tall? Is that a jab?"

You gape, and you fear that you've struck a nerve within him. "N-No! I mean, I'm just saying! You're probably just not tall enough to worry about it, unless you're like, I don't know, Yao Ming or something," you start to ramble. "Even then, did you know that the tallest man in the world is a whole foot taller than him? I guess he would have a higher chance of getting struck by lightning, then, wouldn't he? Or not, considering, well, you know, he's dead. I don't-"

You're cut off when you feel a palm cover your lips, and your eyes widen at the contact. Renjun stares at you, unimpressed.

"You," he starts. "Talk too much. You know that?"

With his hand still over your mouth, you're unable to reply— even if it wasn't, you doubt you could, anyway. His skin against yours brings a warmth to your neck and cheeks, and you could only hope he couldn't see how bright red you're sure you are.

You nod your head slowly.

Renjun scoffs, finally dropping his hand as he glances to the window behind you. If you weren't already staring at him so intently, you would've missed the slight upturn of his lips. "Wow. So not only am I terrified of the storm, I'm short, too?" He shakes his head, half-amused.

"Hey, you said it, not me!" You exclaim defensively, feeling much more relieved now that you've seen him smile. You wonder if he's aware of how pretty his smile is. "Though for the record, I think you're the perfect height!" You pause, "f-for dodging lightning, of course!"

Renjun didn't like how the first half of your sentence made his heart beat faster. If only he were any closer, he'd hear your heart beating just as fast, too.

"You kids hang on tight, alright? There are blankets in the break room if you need them— and keep me updated!"

You've been in contact with your boss since the lockdown announcement hours ago, and despite your last message telling him that you and Renjun are alright, it seems that it's just in Johnny's nature to be overly-concerned as his worried face now flashes on your screen.

"We're alright, Boss, we promise!" You say for the umpteenth time. "This shop's stable enough to withstand a strike or two I'm sure, so we'll see you tomorrow morning!"

"Don't joke about that," Renjun hisses, nudging your arm with his elbow. He turns to the screen again. "We'll be sure to give you hourly updates."

At this, Johnny seems a little more at ease. You bid your boss goodbye, and the café soon falls into a silence, with only the humming of the lights and distant rumbling in the skies to keep you company.

"So... should we get ready for bed?" You ask, slapping your thighs as you stand up from the couch. For some reason, it feels awkward. You've long grown accustomed to Renjun and his lack of words, but somewhere along the way today, it seems that the air between you two has shifted— for better or for worst, you couldn't really tell— and you're not sure if you could salvage it.

You've always liked Renjun— of course you have— but today, it feels more impossible to contain your feelings with nobody else around. You like to think that you were good at hiding it all this while (despite what Donghyuck says), but right now, you're not so sure if you could spend a second longer with Renjun without accidentally blowing your own cover.

"I'll go grab the blankets," he says quietly, snapping you out of your reverie before ushering away to the break room. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, turning around to face the couch. Surely, your feelings could wait, because right now, there's only one thing that matters more: your sleeping arrangement.

You bend down to grab the couch by the armrest, pulling it further towards the middle of the dining area. With it being originally situated right by the window, you figure it wouldn't make for such an ideal (or safe) makeshift bed.

"What are you doing?"

You huff, returning to your original height to see Renjun by the door of the break room, a bundle of plaid blankets in his hands. He has a brow raised— you notice he does that a lot when looking at you— and you laugh meekly.

"Just, you know. Wouldn't wanna get struck by lightning, or anything like that."

He rolls his eyes (again, something he does a lot when it comes to you) as he makes his way towards you, letting the blankets fall on the sofa. "You can take the couch. Probably should lay one of these out first, though. Not sure how many butts have been on there."

Usually, you would have laughed at his comment, but this time, you find yourself tilting your head in confusion instead. "Where are you gonna sleep?"

Renjun shrugs. "The chair works fine for me."

You frown. Taking one of the blankets, you spread it out before letting the fabric fall over the couch. "The chair? There's no way you'd be comfortable like that! Look, the couch is big enough for the both of us. We'd have to stay seated, of course, but that's better than sleeping in a chair, right? Or would you rather we take turns?"

Renjun scoffs. "What? We're not in an apocalypse. There's no need for night watch."

Still, you stall, and it causes him to sigh. Renjun steps towards you, gently planting his hands on your shoulders before guiding you down onto the sofa. "Gosh, you're stubborn. Just take the couch, alright? It's not like I'm planning on sleeping, anyway."

The last part of his sentence comes out in a low murmur, but you still catch it.

"What do you mean you're not planning on sleeping?" You echo, and based on the flash of panic that crosses his face, you're sure he hadn't mean to let that one slip.

"I mean, with the storm and all," Renjun explains stiffly, glancing away. "I'm just saying, there's no way I'd be able to sleep with all that noise."

You gape slightly before your lips transform into a grin. "Could I interest you in another fun fact, then?"

Renjun groans loudly, and you find yourself giggling at his response. And when you hear the low chuckle that escapes his lips, you find your heart swelling at the sound of his laugh.

"Seriously, let's just share, alright? Look, I'll even stay up with you! I won't talk if you don't want me to, though."

Renjun finally gives in, sitting at the other end of the couch. "When has that ever stopped you?"

Noting the lack of bite in his voice, you grin. "Touché."

Eventually, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and for the first time in a while, you don't feel the need to make conversation. You've never been one to be able to stay quiet for very long; clearly, Renjun is someone who does, and today, you learn that it really isn't all that bad.

Renjun steals a glance towards you, but you have your eyes fixed on the rain outside, a small smile still tugged on your lips. It looks like you're watching a movie, the floor-length windows a giant movie screen, and the flashes of lightning the different scenes bouncing off your features. He must have missed the thunder that comes afterwards, only realising it when you turn to him with that stupid, pretty smile still on your lips.

"Uh," Renjun stutters, having been caught off-guard at the sudden eye contact. He quickly looks away. "You don't have to do this."

You tilt your head. "Do what?"

"Stay up with me. You should get some rest."

You laugh, and Renjun wonders if it's always sounded this beautiful. "Don't be silly! I don't mind. I know you're gonna chide me for saying this, but it's kinda nice. I can't remember the last time I stayed up to watch the rain," you pause before turning to him. "You're probably gonna hate me forever for making you endure both a thunderstorm and my chatter in one night," you say teasingly.

"That's not true," he says quietly, only belatedly hoping that you hadn't heard him. Clearing his throat, Renjun turns to his right where his messenger bag lies, taking out his sketchbook he had haphazardly stuffed inside earlier. He flips it open, feeling your curious eyes on him as he looks for the page he had been working on.

"The rain looks better on paper for me," he explains awkwardly. "You know, since we're on the topic of likes and dislikes."

Renjun feels you scoot towards him, and he hates that he could feel the warmth emitting from your side even despite the blanket that envelops your shoulders.

"That's so pretty," you say in awe as you study the drawing. Despite it being so simple, nothing but a rough sketch of a window pane covered with rain drops, you still find yourself marvelling at the intricacy of it all. You could barely even write a whole essay legibly, yet here Renjun is, crafting a whole masterpiece with nothing but a blue ballpoint pen. "I wish I had an ounce of your talent. You're amazing, Renjun."

Even though he's no stranger to getting compliments for his works, it somehow feels different coming from you. It's probably because of how intimate it is— you and him, cramped on a couch in a barely-lit café with your arm pressing into his side— that's all there is to it, right?

But as he turns to you, taking in the stars that seem to dance in your eyes and the pink hue that dusts your cheeks even in the dark, Renjun starts to wonder if maybe, it's more than that. If maybe, the way his heart is stuttering isn't because of the setting, but you— only you.

With the way Donghyuck's question from earlier still plays in the back of his head like a broken record, Renjun knows that it's the truth.

✦ ✦ ✦

With it being late into the night, the two of you lapse into silence, too tired to keep a conversation going, but still very much awake— as though under an unspoken agreement to not fall asleep.

The rain has reduced significantly and the thunder has lessened, nothing but an occasional low rumble in the distance, but every now and then you'd still feel Renjun tensing from next to you.

“You know, statistically, you’re more likely to get struck by lightning than win the lottery,” you mumble sleepily, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Renjun lets out a soft chuckle. “Comforting,” he replies, though there’s no real edge to his voice. “So, basically, I’m doomed.”

“Not while I’m here,” you say through a yawn. “Consider me your good luck charm.”

Renjun shakes his head, but there’s a softness in his expression now, something warm and unspoken passing between you. The couch creaks slightly as you both shift to get more comfortable. Your cheek brushes slightly against his arm, but Renjun doesn't pull away. In your half-conscious state, you barely feel his arm circle behind you, pulling you closer towards him as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder.

"Then I guess I'd have to keep you around for every storm."

Click.

That's the sound you wake to, the sun that hits your eyelids being the second thing to rouse you from your slumber. You stir, your cheek brushing against something soft that only makes you want to sleep even more, but the sound of suspicious giggling causes you to open your eyes.

Your bleary vision lands on Donghyuck, who's currently standing before you with a cheshire-like grin, his phone in his hands.

"Don't you two look cozy?" He coos, tapping on his screen once more before his phone produces another click.

Finally registering what's happening, you jolt awake, only belatedly realising the oh-so-soft material to be Renjun's clothed chest. You must have fallen asleep on him sometime during the middle of the night, and you can't figure out what's more embarrassing: that, or the fact that Donghyuck has proof of said... intimacy.

"Lee Donghyuck! You better not post that!" You yelp, jumping off the couch to reach for his phone, only to fail as he waves his arm in the air, cackling manically.

Renjun finally stirs at the noise. “What’s going on?” he mumbles groggily, only to frown when he registers what you and Donghyuck are doing.

You whip to turn to Renjun, almost tripping in the process, throwing him an apologetic glance. “N-Nothing! Just- uh, a little misunderstanding!”

Donghyuck lowers his arm, tongue poking out of his lips as he types rapidly on his phone. “Oh, I’m definitely sharing this. Aw, you two are so adorable!”

Renjun groans. "Fuck off, Hyuck, seriously." He stands up, picking up his bag before stuffing all his belongings inside. "Ignore him. Let's go."

You giggle, your own embarrassment seeping away when you realise just how flustered he is. "Renjun, wait-"

"Nope, not waiting," he mutters, the tip of his ears noticeably pink as he slings his bag over his shoulder. "We're leaving before this asshole gets anymore material." He shoots Donghyuck a glare, who only waves a hand mindlessly.

"I may be an asshole, but at least I'm not delusional. Seriously, guys, it's painful watching you pretend like you're not into each other!" He cries dramatically, and Renjun's eyes widen before he forces another warning stare to his friend.

"Thanks for the unsolicited advice, Hyuck," he mutters, hoping his voice didn't waver too much, before quickly grabbing your arm and leading you to the door. "We're leaving."

"Have a good day, lovebirds!" Donghyuck sings, and Renjun flashes him a middle finger with his free hand without turning around.

You couldn't help but to laugh as you let him drag you out to the sidewalk, the cold outside air hitting your skin for the first time since yesterday. It's no longer raining, but the streets are still wet from the overnight storm, and it helps in cooling your own burning cheeks.

Renjun finally releases you when you're a little further away from the café, turning to face you with a sigh. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbles, his cheek still painted red, and you wonder how it's possible for him to be this cute, grumpiness and all.

"It's okay." You bite your bottom lip to suppress a grin, and Renjun smiles at you weakly.

There's a moment of silence between you two before Renjun clears his throat awkwardly. "He's right, you know?"

"Hm? About what?" You ask, slightly taken aback by his sudden soft tone.

Renjun shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his voice quiet. “About… me being into you. Wait, that came out weird." He stumbles over his words, and you merely beam at him as you give him time to compose himself.

"It's just— I know I haven't been the nicest to you, and I know it may sound crazy, but I had this whole revelation yesterday that I do have feelings for you— and I promise this isn't just a fleeting thing because of the storm— I genuinely think you're really cool."

You don't say anything, only a soft smile playing on your lips, and that causes Renjun to panic.

"I mean, I know I've been a jerk to you, and I know this isn't an excuse, but I just didn't know how to-"

You cut him off by leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, effectively halting his words. His mouth hangs open slightly, eyes wide as he stares at you in disbelief, his face flushing.

When you pull back, you couldn't help but laugh softly at his stunned expression. “You're rambling,” you tease with a playful smile.

He coughs out a small laugh. "Yeah, sorry. Guess I was." The smile stays on his face this time as he meets your eyes. "So... does that mean you're not compelled to the idea of going on a date with me?"

"Nope. Not at all." You rock between your heels and toes, already feeling the excitement bubbling in your chest. You like to think that you're doing a much better job at keeping your composure, but you're sure anyone could see just how bright red you are. "I think I'd really like that, actually."

Renjun's eyebrows raise before his expression eases into one of relief, and for the first time, a large smile graces his lips. You think you might just have a new favourite thing now— one that easily tops the rain.

"Yeah? Good. Because I think I'd really like that, too."

[cuubism]

Dreamling Olympic Equestrian AU, the Sequel (less Olympics, more Equestrian)

-

Hob wished he could say he took a ‘reasonable’ approach to dating Dream after the Olympics. In actuality he basically just went home with Dream and never left. He helped him get Jessamy settled in, and then Dream wanted him to stay over, and then Hob made him breakfast the next morning, and then—

He did eventually have to go take care of his own horses, and generally get back to his real responsibilities, but it was done with reluctance. Damn him, but he’d immediately started missing Dream. Too attached, too quickly, that was always his way.

And then not a week later Dream had invited him to bring his horse and go on a hack, and, well. Maybe Hob wasn’t the only one being unreasonable about it.

Safe to say they had never really gotten rid of each other after that.

By the end of the year Hob did very much the opposite of getting rid of Dream. Which was to say, marrying him. He was now the proud owner of some very cliche wedding photos of them leaning over to kiss each other while on horseback. He wouldn’t change a thing.

Afterwards, they’d both sold their respective properties, pooled their resources—mostly Dream’s resources if Hob was being totally honest—and bought a place together.

Hob still remembers finding the farm on the market and taking Dream to see it for the first time. He’d been so excited for Dream to see it. Dream had such high standards and Hob had been sure they were going to have to compromise on something, but this property had everything Dream had ever expressed wanting in a farm and other things besides. Rolling fields and connections to nearby bridle paths. A massive indoor arena for riding in inclement weather. Three-sided shelters in all of the paddocks. Automatic waterers. Heated wash stalls. The damn floors were heated too, not that they used the stalls much, but Dream’s geriatric ponies would surely appreciate it come wintertime.

(Hob had been extremely charmed to learn, upon first visiting Dream's farm, that Dream still owned the incredibly fancy ponies Hob had correctly assumed he'd grown up riding as a child. They were now ancient and feral and tended to bite anyone other than Dream. It was delightful.)

Hob’s favorite part of the property was the house. It was set a bit off from the main barn, close enough to be an easy walk but out of the way of the traffic if one was to operate the place as a full-service livery. Dream had loved the cottage at Hob’s previous farm, and this house was much the same, quaint and cozy with its own pond and meandering garden path. It even had a screened-in patio for Dream’s persnickety cats to sunbathe.

It was all perfect. Dream had actually squealed when Hob brought him to see it. It was lucky Dream had money otherwise Hob would have probably done something illegal to afford the place just to see that look on his face every day.

Six months and an amount of money Hob didn’t want to think about later, they had their own farm and had started taking on clients. It should have been idyllic. In many ways it was. Jessamy and Hob’s retired event horse, Ellie, were getting along swimmingly in their big field. Dream’s feral old ponies were rampaging about the place. The amount of space was a bit dangerous, as Dream kept sending Hob photos of pretty horses for sale, saying we have the space for it, Hob. He didn’t seem to care that the prices of said horses were upwards of one hundred thousand pounds.

It was both a blessing and a curse to have married someone who came from money.

All the better to get clients in so the stable was actually making some money instead of just bleeding cash in exchange for more horses. And this was where the trouble began. Because Dream may have been disagreeable around people but he had a soft spot for troubled horses. And when troubled horses intersected with the clients that made them that way, well. That was how they got this.

“I was led to believe I’d be getting results,” Roderick Burgess was saying as Hob stepped into the arena, leaning against the wall to watch Dream ride. “Surely an Olympian should be able to do better.”

Hob grit his teeth, but didn’t say anything, yet. Dream could handle himself.

“If you don’t like my methods, you’re free to take your horse elsewhere,” Dream said. He was trotting the horse—its name was Ruby—in a big circle at the far end of the ring, riding on a long rein, just trying to get it to bend and loosen up its neck. It didn’t seem to be particularly easy for the horse, which was troubling considering a horse that had had ‘a few years’ of training—according to Roderick—should be able to at least do basic flatwork. And should be less stiff about it besides.

“We both know that won’t happen,” said Roderick. He was probably right—now that Dream was starting to get a sense of the horse’s poor prior training, he wouldn’t want to send it elsewhere—but Hob nevertheless wanted to walk over to Roderick and toss him out of the ring. Wasn’t the point of owning your own place that you could kick out clients you didn’t like?

“Perhaps if you’d been honest about his issues, we’d have better results,” Dream said, turning across the middle of the circle to change the bend. Ruby tossed his head, struggling with the change in direction, but Dream persisted in asking him to bend and eventually got him to drop his head again, now stepping up into a canter. “I was promised a horse at at least third level yet you’ve brought me one that struggles with basic self-carriage.”

Hob thought expecting any results yet was unreasonable considering it was only the first time Dream had even gotten on the horse. He’d only gotten it in last week, and just lunged it yesterday.

“You have to be more aggressive with him,” said Roderick dismissively. “Just make him do it.”

“Am I paying you, or are you paying me?”

And on it went like that, Dream working through his usual regimen, slowly building up the difficulty, Roderick nitpicking and criticizing all the while. Hob didn’t know what he really wanted. Maybe he just got a kick out of being an asshole.

Hob did love watching Dream ride, though. Watching him work with an inexperienced horse wasn’t nearly as seamless as it was when he rode Jessamy, but his patience and light touch were always a delight to behold.

Dream eventually took up his reins, gauging the horse’s ability to go around in a more collected frame. That ability was dubious at best, but Dream kept at it, working in circles of various sizes, transitioning up and down the gaits. He would get the horse where it needed to be eventually, Hob knew. If Roderick didn’t keep interrupting with unreasonable demands.

“Are you going to do any lateral work at all?” asked Roderick with annoyance, predictably interrupting again, and Hob could almost hear Dream’s jaw clench.

“Yes, I am getting to it. It’s a horse, not a racecar.” He turned the horse down the quarter line, lightly brushing the end of his whip, which Hob hadn’t seen him use yet, against its flank to ask it to step sideways and under.

And at the first touch of the whip Ruby exploded.

If Hob had looked down for even a second he would not have seen it move, it was so fast—the horse bolted sideways away from the whip, head thrown up, legs scrambling. Dream pulled back hard on the left rein, trying to stop through a turn, but Ruby just plowed right through it, tossing its head. Hob heard the bang as they—or more likely Dream’s knee—hit the arena wall, and then Dream yanked harder and managed to turn, spinning the horse into a circle until it was forced by the tight angle to slow to a nervy walk.

Hob had automatically lurched forward to try to help, but realized fast enough that rushing over would only make things worse. He watched, tense, as Dream finally brought Ruby to a halt. A lesser rider would have been thrown; Hob was glad Dream’s seat was better than that.

“Ah, yes,” said Roderick nonchalantly from where he was still sitting, ankle crossed over his knee. “He does not enjoy the whip.”

“Were you planning to inform me of that,” said Dream, out of breath, “before or after we went through a wall?”

“I would have thought you could handle it,” Roderick said.

Hob kind of wanted to punch him in the face. Instead he went over to Dream.

Ruby was standing stock still now, breathing hard, and let out a loud huff, nostrils flaring, as Hob stopped at Dream’s side. Dream scratched the horse’s neck.

“Are you alright?” Hob asked quietly.

Dream nodded, handing the whip to Hob, though his expression was pinched, and Hob worried for his knee. “Once more and then we’ll be done. I don’t want to end on that note.”

“You cannot let him get away with that,” said Roderick sternly, seeing Hob take Dream’s whip. “He must tolerate the whip.”

“And I’m sure persisting now will teach that effectively,” Dream bit back. “Do you want an explosive horse, Roderick? Because that is what you have handed me, and if you insist upon pushing the matter like this, you will only make it worse.”

“I hired you to fix it,” Roderick snapped.

“Then let me.”

Dream brought the horse back up to a trot, did a lap around the ring and then came down the quarter line again, this time asking him to leg yield over just by bending him around his leg. Ruby was tense now, jiggling the bit in his mouth and fighting Dream’s hand, but he did move over, and once they’d reached the wall Dream let him drop back down to a walk, letting his grip on the reins slide down to the buckle. Ruby snorted loudly, dropping his head to the floor as he walked anxiously on the long rein.

“You do not have to beat him to get what you want,” Dream said, turning to Roderick.

“You care too much about their feelings,” said Roderick dismissively.

“Not caring about their feelings has gotten you very far indeed,” Dream said back.

He halted the horse by Hob and hopped down, stumbling on the landing and leaning hard on his left leg. Shit. Hob knew he’d hit the wall. Goddammit, Dream.

Before Hob could take the horse from him, Roderick’s kid, Alex, crept into the arena and came over, eyeing his father as he did. Normally Hob considered Alex kind of a liability to have around the farm—he was convinced the kid was going to get himself kicked in the head at some point—but now he handed him the reins. It was Roderick’s horse, the two of them could deal with it right now.

“Make sure to walk him out,” Hob told Alex, and then, ignoring Roderick, who’d already focused on Alex, presumably to berate him for something, he wrapped an arm around Dream’s waist and led him out of the ring.

By the time they made it into the lounge, Dream was leaning heavily against Hob’s side, limping on his right leg. God, Hob hoped he hadn’t broken something. He could only imagine how long that sort of knee injury would take Dream out.

Hob sat him down on the couch. “Can I take a look at your knee?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Dream said, even as the corners of his lips were still pressed tight in pain.

“Dream, I heard you hit the wall from the other side of the arena.”

Dream sighed, but finally started unzipping his boots.

“Breeches, too,” Hob said.

Dream gave him a look but, having removed his boots, started stripping off his socks and black riding pants as well. He looked small like that, perched on the couch in just his black boxer briefs and short-sleeve polo. Hob winced at the sight of his knee. It had already turned horribly purple from his impact with the wall. Hob crouched by him to look closer, taking Dream’s ankle in his hands, turning his leg this way and that, carefully testing the motion. “How much does it hurt?”

“Tolerable,” Dream said, watching Hob intently. Hob mentally increased all of Dream’s descriptions by several degrees of pain. “I don’t think anything is broken, or sprained.”

Having looked closer, Hob didn’t think so either; he was pretty sure it was just bruised. A nasty bruise, though. “Should keep off it for a few days, though.”

Dream sighed, put upon, but didn’t contradict him.

“I’ll get you some ice.” He had ice wraps in the freezer, and pulled one out, laying it over Dream’s knee.

Dream’s lips twitched up in a small smile. “That is for horses.”

“Well, now it’s for humans, too.” He sat beside Dream on the couch as he iced his poor knee. “We should get it checked out if it’s not any better by tomorrow. Don’t want to risk permanent damage.”

Dream touched Hob’s shoulder with light fingers. Hob was, unfortunately, speaking from experience on this matter. Though in his case it had been less ‘deciding not to get it checked out’ and more ‘completely obliterating the joint to the point that it was kind of moot.’ Hob had shown Dream the video of that fall a while back. It was not a pleasant video.

He still had a mostly functional shoulder, though.

Fortunately, Hob didn’t usually have to worry about that happening with Dream. Having a horse flip on top of you was the kind of thing that was more likely to happen when you decided it was a good idea to gallop at solid objects. Which Hob had done. Frequently.

He was kind of glad he hadn’t married a fellow adrenaline junkie.

“I can’t believe Roderick put you on that horse knowing it was going to react like that,” Hob said. He really should kick the guy out. Prick.  

“Roderick created that reaction,” said Dream. “He hardly cares if it gets someone thrown, so long as that someone is not him.”

“I care!” Hob exclaimed. “It’s our fucking stable. He can’t just use you as a crash-test dummy.”

Dream raised an eyebrow. “I am not easy to crash.”

“That’s not the point, Dream. I’ll kick him out, I swear to God.”

“I can handle Roderick Burgess. And the horse. You needn’t protect me.”

“Maybe I want to,” said Hob. He took the ice off Dream’s knee and took another look at it. The bruise only looked more hideous. “Maybe part of being your husband is that I get to protect you.”

Dream touched his cheek fondly, but said, “If we send him away, he will only take the horse to someone else, and nothing will improve.”

Hob knew it was true. He would have just bought the horse and given it to Dream just to get Roderick off the property, but he was pretty sure Roderick would just take the money and go buy another one so that wouldn’t really accomplish anything in the end.

Hob was always going to end up doing what made Dream happy anyway.

“Just…” he rubbed Dream’s thigh, careful of the bruise. “Be careful. God only knows what else he’s taught that horse to do.”

“We will find out, I suppose. Roderick will not be happy with me, though. I intend to take the horse back down to basics. He will doubtless be furious.” He did sound somewhat satisfied by the thought of it.

“Roderick can get on the damn thing himself if he’s so upset,” Hob said.

“That would be entertaining to watch, though less so for the horse,” Dream said. “Perhaps he will make Alex ride it.”

Hob rubbed his forehead in despair. “God help us all.”

“Indeed.”

“You should go back to the house and rest a while,” Hob told him.

“First I want to make sure they haven’t managed to kill Ruby,” Dream said. He levered himself to his feet, handing Hob back the ice wrap. “Besides, I am fine.”

The way he limped about while pulling on his breeches and paddock boots belied that, but Hob knew better than to argue further. At least he wasn’t getting back on the horse.

He went with Dream—only limping a little bit now—out to the barn, where Alex was getting Ruby settled in his stall. Alex looked distinctly nervous brushing the horse down, but hadn’t managed to get it—or, more surprisingly, himself—killed yet, which Hob counted as a win. Roderick was nowhere to be seen, which was probably for the best.

“Did you walk him out?” Dream asked.

Alex nodded anxiously. He seemed intimidated by Dream—which, to be fair, was a common experience for most people. Hob frequently had to remind himself that the version of Dream he saw every day—curled up in the kitchen alcove with his tea and a cat on his lap, chasing his ponies around the barn, resting his head in Hob’s lap for Hob to play with his hair—was not the version most people saw.

Ruby seemed little worse for wear for his ordeal. Dream pet the horse’s nose fondly, and it tried to nibble at his palm.

“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he said, to the horse, now ignoring Alex. “We’ll sort it out, won’t we?”

Ruby just tried to nibble on his fingers again.

With another pat to the horse’s nose, but no more words for Alex, Dream strode away again. Hob followed. Once they were out of the barn, he caught up to Dream and scooped him up in his arms, Dream clutching at his neck with a squeak.

“I’m carrying you home,” Hob said, starting off for the house. “You’re not walking.”

“I am not an invalid,” Dream protested.

“Oh, I should put you down, then?”

Dream clutched at him tighter. “You would not dare.”

“Thought so.”

And so he carried Dream down the short walk back to the house. After all, Hob thought, this was the whole point. He couldn’t necessarily prevent Dream from getting on insane horses or dealing with insane clients. But he could be there at the end of the day to carry him home.

[hannahbarberra162]

Country Mouse, City Mouse Chapter 2

Now on Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 2 - Oh, Fiddleheads.

“Would you like to view the accommodations of the castle?” Mihawk addressed you, after completing a tour of his farm. You were a little impressed, he hadn’t done a terrible job. Especially since this looked like his first foray into farming. You’d definitely seen worse. He was a man of few words, telling you only the names of the fruits and vegetables he’d planted. That’s ok, you didn’t mind silence either. You were sitting on your haunches and making a rough sketch of the farm with paper and pencil you’d had in your sack. You stood up and said “sure enough.”

The afternoon sun had come and gone, and you were hungry. “By the way,” you said, walking towards the castle “I’m not much of a cook. I can grow your food but I cain’t cook it. Er, not well by any means. I can try, but you might not like the results.”

“It is no matter. A cooking schedule has already been established. Perona and I switch off, as Roronoa is also…not inclined towards cooking.”

“Oh, there are other folks here? And they don’t help you on the farm?”

“Roronoa is dedicated only to his training. Perona prefers to remain in the castle.”

“Oh, she’s what I call an indoor cat. Ain’t nothing. Takes all types to make the world run.” With that, you continued walking in silence together. You didn’t feel the need to say anything and neither did he. Walking along together, you occasionally pointed out wild edible flora. “Let’s keep our eyes on that fiddlehead fern. Once they’re ready, they taste great sauteed.” Mihawk looked over at the fern but said nothing. 

Upon reaching the castle, he opened the large door with ease. “After you,” he said gesturing inside. It was a grand place, you supposed, all bricks and tall ceilings. “There are many unused rooms inside the estate, you may select whichever suits you.”

“Oh no need, I’ll just be here to eat. Maybe to bundle vegetables when the harvest comes.”

“What do you mean.” he said the question as a statement, as though the thought of not living in the castle was unfathomable.

“This ain’t my kinda place. Too grand for the likes of me,” you said with a kind smile. “I saw you have a shed out by the farm. I’ll live in there. Nice ‘n comfy.”

“The garden shed is not a suitable accommodation.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind hunkerin’ down outdoors. Weather seems fine tonight.”

Mihawk sputtered. You’d rather sleep in the grass than in his grand castle? 

 “You alright there, Boss? We already fightin’ each other?”

“There is no fight. If you wish to live in the shed or outside like the animals, you may do as you please. Beware the humandrills. I will give you no further warnings.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Mihawk POV

You did know your craft of farming. He enjoyed listening to you talk about the wild vegetables and their practical applications. You did not feel the need to prattle on when there was nothing needing to be mentioned, something he appreciated. You had a certain spark that made everything more interesting. It was charisma, he realized. Not like Shanks, who weaponized it to manipulate those foolish enough to fall for it. You were artless in your charming personality and it shined through your words and actions. You were not unpleasant to be around, which Mihawk appreciated.

He was going to show you around the castle when you told him your preposterous idea of living outside in the shed. He had never heard of such nonsense. But you were an adult woman capable of making your own foolish choices. He didn’t have to understand it. 

It was Perona’s turn to cook dinner, and he could smell the stew she was finishing. Perona, as temperamental as she was, had a knack for cooking. It was easier to tolerate her outbursts on a full stomach. He walked you to the kitchen and showed you the attached mess room. Though he had a penchant for eating in the dining room, they most often took their meals in the mess. Perona was floating about, putting the finishing touches into the stew.

“Ooooh, what do we have here?” Perona said as she floated about, encircling you. “Did you finally get a servant like I wanted? This one is dirty. Ew! Make it wash!” Perona said as she grimaced in disgust. You just laughed at her words, taking her insults in stride. You did not even comment on the fact that she was floating about with her hollows following.  

“Ain’t no servant, but I am dirty, no denyin’ that. I’m Y/N, I’m workin’ the farm for a few. You must be Perona. Heard a lot about you, but didn’t do you justice. Why you’re as beautiful as the day is long,” you said, tilting your head to the side and smiling. You had quickly surmised the way to Perona’s heart - through her ego. 

“Ah, don’t be so silly! In these old rags? I’m usually so much cuter!,” Perona was waving you off while smiling and blushing. 

“No, I mean it. I’ve never seen hair like yours before - just the crowning jewel of your look. You must tell me how you get it that way.”

Mihawk would rather eat Roronoa’s cooking than hear about Perona’s hair care routine…again. But the two of you were having a spirited conversation as the table was being set. He noticed you correctly placed the plates, bowls, cutlery and glasses according to the rules of etiquette. Roronoa joined the rest of you in the dining area. He grunted as a means of expression.

“Roronoa, this is Y/N. She is aiding my work on the farm.”

“ ‘M Zoro,” he said, sitting down to eat the plated food.

“Nice to meet you Zoro,” you answered. Though when you said it, it had an amusing twang. It sounded more like “Zoh-roh.” Roronoa said nothing and you didn’t engage with him further.

Dinner passed easily between the four of you. You talked with Perona about various topics he found exceedingly tedious. However, he was pleasantly surprised to see your table etiquette extended past table settings. He had been subjected to Roronoa’s unrefined eating style, often eating without utensils. Perona would talk with her mouth full of chewed food, a truly odious habit. You, however, held all your utensils correctly, cut your meat with the knife in your right hand, chewed with your mouth closed, and had placed a handkerchief in your lap as a napkin. Mihawk was pleased to see that there was at least one other person on the island he could bear to eat near.

After the meal, you helped clean up alongside Roronoa. Mihawk poured himself a glass of wine, and offered you one as well. You accepted, and he poured glasses for Perona and Roronoa as well. He felt it was acceptable to have a toast to new beginnings. He handed you your glass and raised it. You did the same. 

“May our harvests be bountiful and may we have the time to enjoy it.”

You smiled, and gently clinked your glass against his. Roronoa chugged his entire glass in one go. Perona sampled the wine and stuck out her tongue, declaring that it wasn’t “sweet enough.” You sipped gently and thanked him for the glass. Hopefully the humandrills didn’t kill you tonight, he thought to himself. You were becoming rather useful to have around.

[wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee28374728]

Wendigo!Josh Headcanons

I always got the idea that the spirit can't leave the mountain, so when the rescue team took him down from the mountain, the spirit wouldn't be in control of him anymore

The first person who comes to see him in the hospital is the real Dr. Hill. I've always thought that real Dr. Hill was actually a really nice guy. The others are still mad at him at this point, and Dr. Hill was concerned about his prank to begin with

They finally get him on the right meds to calm down a bit and stop the hallucinations

Chris and Sam are the first of the group to warm back up to him, convinced by Dr. Hill

He has partial wendigo vision loss and now wears glasses, which he hates and wants contacts instead, but with how the shape of his eyes has kind of changed, he can't get contacts to fit or stay in(I've never worn contacts so if this ain't how it works I'm sorry 😭)

When he's finally released from the hospital, he mostly just hides in one of his parents' houses, trying to keep his distance from them because he thinks they blame him for what happened to Hannah and Beth, and that they'd hate him for looking different

On the rare occasions he goes outside during those first few months, he wears a face mask to hide his teeth

He likes to sleep under things, in dark, warm, cozy spots, so sometimes he'll wake up under the bed and not remember going down there in the night

He will sometimes still make wendigo screeching noises when startled

He likes his meat a little more rare now, and thinks its gross, repeatedly apologizing if he eats in front of other people, even though it's not that bad

Winter reminds him of everything that's happened and he prefers to spend winter either indoors or someplace warm

It takes his parents a while to get through to him that it's not his fault and they're just glad that he's still alive

He has trouble gaining weight now and is usually a little skinny

Eventually, the rest of the group slowly comes around once he's been on the proper meds for a while

Once he's more comfortable with himself again, he starts taking advantage of and having fun with his wendigo powers

He can climb up on the ceiling to easily kill bugs, or just for fun to get around the house

When the group comes over he'll take off his glasses and they can play Marco Polo

When he's genuinely happy or sleeping, he purrs. Not exactly like a cat, but like a rumbling noise in his chest and throat that happens whether he likes it or not

He walks really quietly now and can sneak up on people easily

Chris encourages him to be more comfortable with wearing glasses

I want to believe that the rescue team found other wendigos and knows what happened, so he never gets in trouble or anything

They do keep and use the flamethrower guy's notebooks as a kind of handbook for understanding the changes in behavior or preferences

He's even more protective of everyone in the group now

I don't think he'd ever stop wearing the face mask in public just to avoid attention from strangers or scaring people, especially kids

I think he'd eventually(like maybe after 2 or 3 years) he'd go back to college again

Eventually, he doesn't have to see Dr. Hill anymore as a therapist and just needs to keep taking his meds, but Dr. Hill still checks in on him and makes sure he's ok

(I am using the word eventually too fucking much)

He never goes back up on the mountain again for any reason, because there's no way of knowing if the spirit would just come right back and possess him again

I think the family just fences off the whole mountain as is and leaves it alone so no one else gets hurt

He wishes that they could have gotten Hannah off the mountain now that he knows the spirit would have let her go

[shy-urban-hobbit]

The first thing that Aiden was aware of was that he was no longer lying on the hard ground (although the matress he was currently on wasn't much of an upgrade). The second thing was that he was alone if the lack of any additional heartbeats was an indication. He took a moment to catalogue the various aches and pains whilst wishing painful and embarassing venereal diseases on any and all Mages.

It wasn't bad enough that they'd walked straight into a trap (although to be fair this one was using children as bait, what else could they do?). Oh no, he'd decided to do the whole 'one of you drink from the mystery chalice and I'll let the other one go' thing, not even trying to disguise its contents. Aiden hadn't thought twice about knocking it back before the Mage had even finished monologuing, shooting a smirk at Lambert before collapsing to the ground in pain as his guts tried to claw their way out of his body.

Speaking of, the door opening accompanied by Lambert's unique scent informed him that his fellow Witcher had returned. Aiden started counting down from five in his head, knowing that his heart rate would give away the fact that he was awake, even if he wanted to avoid opening his eyes for a little longer. He got to three before he felt a fist clench in the front of his shirt, pulling him upwards and into a solid chest.

"You fucking twat!"

Aiden winced, "Indoor voice please, Love." He said hoarsly, burying his nose in Lambert's collar bone, "Loud noise bad right now."

Lambert adjusted his hold so he was now cradling Aiden against his chest, "You stupid fucking Cat." He whispered, "What were you thinking?"

"That I'd rather chug poison than carry on listening to that arsehole."

"I'm serious, Aiden." Lambert tightened his hold, "I had to watch you basically commit suicide and fucking smile about it?!" His voice was getting louder again, but he was too angry to care, "You absolute prick! I had to watch you writhing on the floor in agony whilst I tried to force an antidote into you which I wasn't even sure would work, and then I had to practically sprint back to the inn with you, praying the entire fucking time that I wouldn't have to listen to your heart stop. I was...you..."

Aiden felt guilt start to gnaw at him. Lambert didn't need to say any more for Aiden to know he'd scared him, and scared him badly.

"I'm sorry Lam." He reached up to run fingers through his Wolf's hair, purring low in his chest in an attempt to both comfort and self soothe. Lambert allowed the gesture withought complaint.

"I know this doesn't make it right but, for what it's worth, I was never going to die."

Lambert snorted, "Don't talk shit. We could both smell what was in it. That stuff's fatal when combined with mutagens."

"When combined with wolf mutagens."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"The initial reaction is the same but, for Cat Witchers," Aiden shrugged, "After that wears off. For us, it just feels like a really bad White Gull hangover. On that note."

Aiden pulled back and proceeded to puke on the floor, luckily avoiding Lambert's boot.

"You deserve that." Lambert said dryly, wiping Aiden's mouth with his sleeve.

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"For not telling me that sooner, scaring me half to death or puking on the floor of the room we're sharing?"

"All three. I swear I would've told you about the poison thing if I'd had the chance. Only there wasn't a lot of time between downing it and, you know..."

Lambert couldn't smell any trace of a lie through the guilt and misery.

"As soon as you're well you're giving me a fucking crash course in Cat mutagens." He said, moving to lie on the bed and pulling Aiden on top of him., "You're also cleaning that by the way." He gestured with his head to the puddle of vomit.

"Be nice to me, I'm sick!"

[agro-carnist]

TW graphic animal death, I’m sorry if this is too much from a random person, but I’m totally alone and reeling right now.

I recently lost my housing, and had to drop my cat off with my mom while I try to secure a new place to live. I told her under no circumstances is my cat allowed outside alone. Yes he will yowl, yes he will try to dart out. But he is harness and leash trained, and a quick 5-10 minute walk will be enough to tire him out. And he would only be with her for a couple weeks. She agreed to this.

A couple days ago I got a call from my mom that my cat had been mauled by a stray dog. He was outside alone, and the dog chased him all the way down the street and ripped him off my mom’s fence as he was trying to escape. He shook him violently like a toy. He used his feet to hold him down and tried to rip his leg off. It took my mom and 3 neighbors to pull him off my cat, who then took off scared out of his mind.

I took time off work so I could comb my mom’s entire neighborhood looking for him. There was blood all over her road, but no sign of my cat. The next morning we found him in my mom’s driveway, and I rushed him to the vet. His right hind leg was torn open and barely hanging on by a single tendon. He had a tooth from the dog stuck in his abdomen. He was already septic because his stomach was torn open and leaking into the rest of his body. They couldn’t save him, they could only make his last moments more comfortable.

I am furious with my mom, and she just keeps saying “it’s wrong to own a cat and take away their freedom,” and “I don’t regret helping him live his last few days free. It was probably the only time in his life he was happy.” My cat couldn’t walk, he crawled home in agony hoping we would help him. He died scared and in pain in a strange place. And my mom STILL thinks its “cruel” to keep cats indoors and doesn’t regret going against my wishes by letting him out unsupervised. I’m furious. I’m inconsolable. I can’t forgive her. I lost my best friend and my mom. I really, really, REALLY hate outdoor cat defenders.

That is a horrifying situation and I'm so sorry this happened to you. I would be furious. It was cruel of your mom to do that when you explicitly said not to and then double down on it when the worst happened. It sounds like she doesn't really care about your feelings and didn't care for your cat either but is using it as an excuse to cover her own ass. I can't imagine what you're going through now

[honeysucklebuttons]

Any Gonta hc's involving bugs? I'd love to hear them if you'll share! I'm curious what you got c:

Hello! Thank you for your patience, I've finally had some time to think about this wonderful question!! <3

_ In general, Gonta is especially protective of the bugs that have bad reputations. He loves and respects all of the amazing life forms out there, but there's something about them that he relates to, whether he realizes it or not. These misconceptions and fear of "gross" or "scary-looking" creatures that could be aggressive if provoked, with maybe a bite or sting or a disease inside them... well, he knows what that feels like to be seen on such a surface level. He's extremely wary of letting other people handle his own bugs in this category for this reason, until he's really truly sure that they'll be handled safely.

_ Some days it feels like he has an exoskeleton, because of the way the rain falls off of his shape, how kind words can bounce off and he feels like he has to show the side of him that won't waver. Some days he wishes he had one, because skin is easy to tear and bruise and blush, and oh, how it gives him away. But having bones on the inside is good, too.

_ I've mentioned before that Gonta sings a lullaby to his bugs every night, some tune he made up or learned while he was lost. (Maybe he managed to learn how to make certain bug sounds!!) This is true for both his bugs at work and at home! He might add words if there are people around that he doesn't mind singing in front of.......

_ Not really a hc, but please, if you will, imagine Gonta talking to baby bugs in a baby-talking voice, like most people do with pets. He doesn't use it with the adults, though - they deserve to be talked to like adults, after all!

_ Gonta building fun enclosures!! (I'm thinking about people with pet jumping spiders, specifically this one person who made their spider a miniature cat tree to explore for enrichment.) He knows what they need, and he can communicate with them to make their short life spans much more exciting! (Setting up tea parties with things they can eat; having an indoor garden area for the pollinators; etc)

_ There are many reasons that Gonta tears up or cries when his bugs are concerned. Celebrating an unexpectedly long life span, happy birthday!! A fight breaking out that he couldn't stop, between bugs that should have been just fine together... A new clutch of babies are hatching!! Oh, none of them made it... Having a staring contest with someone who follows his every movement!! A funeral for someone he's had a long time... Matchmaking a compatible match, they seem very happy!! An accident happened with the enclosure, or the food, or a person mishandled one of them... At the end of the day, sometimes just thinking about bugs is enough to do it!!!! And sometimes, "IT'S JUST SO TINY" is as valid a reason as any :D

_ Gonta is That Guy at bug conventions- people whisper excitedly about him as he passes by, ask for photos, and more than once, he's had someone come up to him and ask anything from, "Would you like to hold my [species name]?! I'd be so honored if you did!!" to "Would you like to be featured in our publication? Your work proceeds you!" He's getting used to it, slowly.

_ Gonta talks to himself. Gonta also talks to bugs and other creatures. It's hard to tell who he's talking to if he's the only person around, sometimes...

_ He loves bug art and tattoos and, while he might not have any tattoos himself, he ogles politely when people show him theirs! At least a few people have asked to get his scientific drawings done as tattoos and he's always initially like "why tho????" until he sees it and then it's "!!!!!!!!!!!" hehe

Okay I think I'll stop here for now.......... thank you for the wonderful Gonta daydreams, I hope these are what you were looking for! (Hopefully you didn't want specific ones like... how does Gonta feel about ladybugs or something lol) (he loves them, next question) <3 <3 <3

[writingrosesonneptune]

Find the Word Tag

🕸Thank you to @chauceryfairytales for the tag!🕸

My words to find were: trace, heavy, stretch, and orange

Trace

These first two come from late chapters in PQ:

His gaze returned to the scarf as he traced one of its faded patterns. "That is the night I think of, when I think of losing everything. This pain in my arm is nothing to that. I'd give up the arm if it meant I could go back and change what happened then. Gladly, I would make that trade."

Sadira didn't know what to say to that. It seemed not far from the deals Ghost-Hand described the Emperor's Prisoner attempting to hawk from their cell.

Heavy

Sadira held her breath, afraid of letting the water hit the floor all at once. No matter how distracted L was, he would notice if it suddenly began raining indoors.

She tightened her hand into a fist just as the first drops fell. The rest froze in place, but gravity was against her. They slipped slowly in the air, heavy and difficult to control. She pulled as much as she could towards her, keeping an eye on L as she did so.

These last two come from the prequel document.

Orange

The siblings returned to the hideout not with food, but a live animal.

"Look what we caught," Val said. He hoisted a sleek wooden cage, the sort only well-to-do types could afford, high enough in the air so the others could see. The tight smile on his lips said this was not the prize he had set out to get, but he was determined to spin it into a success.

The creature inside was not native to the region. It was about the size of a farm cat, with tall ears, round eyes, and a long bushy tail. Primarily black, the beginnings of a bold ruff of orange fur sprouted from its cheeks.

Stretch

E grabbed his sleeve when he turned to go.

He turned around, not sure if she meant to say something else or for the first time ask a favor.

She stood from the bed, still holding onto his sleeve, and approached him slowly with her gaze fixed ever awkwardly to the floor.

He waited, a bit more certain of what she meant to do, and stretched out his other arm.

"Thank you," she said, moving to wrap her arms around him in a loose embrace.

He laid a hand to her back, wishing he could do something more for her.

Gently tagging: @cowboybrunch @lady-redshield-writes @tabswrites @dyrewrites and anyone else who would like to join in!

Your words to find are: Gentle, Cold, Rough, and Bright 🔍

[stevishabitat]

One of our ferals was hit by a car today.

Mercifully, his head was clipped, so it was instant death and not prolonged suffering and we didn't have to do anything but collect the body.

We had seen him in the yard moments before, and I reminded kiddo to refill the front porch water since we have a heat advisory. When kiddo and Grandmummy went back out, he was laying in the street.

Blaze was one of Franklin and Mama's litter from spring of 2020. As a "teen", he helped raise the next litter, since Mama was terrible at parenting and always handed her babies off to someone else as soon as possible.

He had moved out of the main colony to run around with his aunt Cinnabon, who was a bit of a loner. They'd been getting fed elsewhere for awhile, but this year they came back to take advantage of our front porch food & water station.

We put a shelter on the porch, but they never felt comfortable using it and came and went from somewhere across the street. The backyard colony cats made it clear they could come to eat but then had to get out of the territory.

Our street is one block that dead-ends at a creek, but that doesn't keep cars from zooming like it's a freeway. In spite of the "slow down: kids and pets at play" sign I bolted to a tree earlier this summer.

This is one of the toughest parts of caring for a feral colony. You wish you could protect them and just bring them all inside. But they aren't house pets. They may get used to seeing you around, but they will always be too wild to be made a pet.

We do what we can to make their lives better - neutering and vaccinations whenever possible. Food and water and shelter. Trying to stop the kitten cycle and adopting out any that are people-friendly. Decreasing the numbers while trying to improve quality of life for those who remain.

But we can't make their choices for them. And although they have some level of street smarts, it's still dangerous out there. Cars, predators, dogs, people, injury, illness... They aren't likely to live as long as an indoor cat. All it takes is one moment, one decision, and they're gone. Loss is an inevitable part of what we signed up for.

It's especially hard when it's one you've known for years and watched grow up.

And Blaze was one of the most beautiful we've had. Very petite for an intact tom and he never got involved in the tom cat fight club so he wasn't battered and scarred like some. Lovely tuxedo with a distinct blaze that inspired his name and big green eyes. And he knew his name! He always looked up when we talked to him.

After we packed up the body (giving him many gentle pets and telling him how very soft he was) we saw Cinnabon watching from under a car on the nearby driveway. We can't explain to her that her nephew, her buddy Blaze isn't coming back. I'm not sure what she'll do on her own. It's been just the two of them for a very long time. Maybe she'll try to rejoin the main colony, but I doubt it. I feel bad for her.

Grandmummy came in and gently told Franklin that one of his sons was gone. And what we didn't say, but were all thinking, that a year ago it could easily have been him.

Y'all, I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to keep cats inside. Get them neutered. Get them vaccinated.

And if you feed strays or ferals, find out if there's a TNR group nearby that might help you trap & neuter.

Reducing the number of street cats (pets, strays, and ferals) is the best thing for everyone.

Let Blaze be your reminder.

[mikafaery]

Omg hihiii! I saw the enstars blind date stuff and I decided to sign up <3 I love these sorts of ask games but I don't see them often! I'm gonna put in my information first, but I wondered if I could ask twice? I have an oc that I'd like to do this for, but it's totally ok if not!

Anyways! Here's the info <3 (You can do NSFW if you wish to!):

Pronouns: she/her

Height: 153 cm/5'0"

Hair color: Brown with blue underdye

Eye color: Brown

Hobbies and likes/dislikes: My three main hobbies are probably writing, art and playing games! I like cats, my favorite food is seafood, and I enjoy horror. I really dislike conflict and change. I don't like throwing things away either

Favorite color: Yellow! Especially the warm, honey colored kind of yellow <3

What I seek in a partner: Someone who likes the same things I do, for starters, since I am a very conversation driven person and I know my hobbies the most. Other than that, I just look for love and respect. In an ideal world, my partner would be someone who reassures me that they love me every day, and we would hang out at home often, as I like to stay inside

Tysm! <3

Enstars Blind Date

I pair you with Hokuto! Thank you so much for the submission! And it's okay to submit more than once!

You both are into the arts, as you like more writing and things of that nature, and he likes performing arts. He's also in the Craftmonster club, so he likes to make crafts too!

He's very honest and true to himself, which would make him great for someone to have deep conversations with.

I see him as someone who also likes to stay indoors a lot since being famous, also that pressure of him being the son of two parents can get him a bit tired of the spotlight so he would love to stay home with you

The perfect date I could see you two being on is a paint night!

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

Hokuto sat in front of you in a pose that he's been holding for the past ten minutes. His limbs were getting bored but he didn't want to move for his girlfriend.

Your face was serious as you sketched his pose onto the canvas before you painted it, taking in every detail of him. Hokuto occasionally let go of his pose when he thought you weren't looking a couple of times, and when you caught him, he would immediately go back into position.

Once the sketch was done, you told him that it was okay for him to move now and he immediately let go of the pose and rested for a few minutes. While he was resting, you grabbed the canvas and turned it around to show him your sketch. His face suddenly lit up from the sight of the sketch and he smiled, "I guess all that posing was worth it."

[writteninscarlet]

♣ Wanda & the Moon Knight system - curveball so that Marlene can look at her friend and just shake her head, and Diatrice giving the WORST advice ;; @marlenexalraune

send ♣ and a ship ;; definitely accepting

who is the better dancer?

“Let me be arrogant and bold and say myself,” she answered with a laugh in her voice. “I’ve been dancing a long time, and I really enjoy it.” The auburn haired witch was confident in her abilities. She was not perfect, but she had fun and enjoyed what she did.

“I enjoy dancing with them all, though it’s not exactly a common occurrence.” The laughter was still there, though warmer and more affectionate. “I can sometimes persuade Steven onto the dance floor if we’re at an event. He’s rather good. Jake is rather good with a spin across the floor. Or making me spin. And usually if trying to get out trouble. I’ll admit it puts a smile on my face.” And Marc— “Marc is good with a slow dance at the end of a very long night.”

who likes the outdoors more and who likes the indoors more?

“Hm… That’s tough. I suppose Jake likes being out and about. He must really rack up the miles. But it’s worth the long time away if it means being shown some secret spots later.” She gave a soft smile, then continued, “If I’m looking for Steven, I look indoors. I don’t mean to say he enjoys that more, but it’s his… habitat.” Her tone joking and light on the last word. “He’s in his element.”

“It’s hard to predict where Marc will be. Probably out and about. The city is his playground. But he’s at home indoors, too.” She turned those thoughts to herself, “It’s a cop out, but I like both. I like to travel and move, but I spend a lot of time working and researching indoors. And it’s nice to just relax and watch a movie now and then, or read a book.”

who’s a cat person and who’s a dog person?

“Diatrice tells me they’re dog people. I’ve come to find out that’s because she wants a dog and I feel she also likes to remind them of Jack Russell. Now there’s a dog I can come to like myself,” she replied, smirking ever so slightly. Truthfully, pets were an added pressure. But also a means to relax and a companion. That was maybe a nice thing to have.

“I’ve never had either as a pet. A cat suits my lifestyle more. I’m constantly moving and they could be in the shop. It’s hard to say if animals care for the Mission.”

who’s more social?

“I’m not sure how Jake manages to have a conversation with EVERYONE. I mean, a ten minute journey can take triple the time.” She made a face, cheeks puffed out before relaxing and laughing. “It’s a skill I wish I had. Steven is great, too - especially at a gala. He’s good with the political talk, even if it’s not what he would like to be doing. I do think it gets a little harder for him to do so when I purposely catch his eyes whilst trying to be so polite and diplomatic. It’s only catching his eyes, I swear.”

She smiled softly, amused and warm, “I would say Marc is social, but I get the feeling that’s not a view others share. But well, since he’s social with me, that’s what I care about. And he’s better than most think. To do his job you have to be. There’s different ways of being social. And as for myself? I like people. I enjoy talking to others. But it can be draining. I would happily sit and be myself, researching or working on something. Or reading for pleasure. But even if my social battery is drained, I would still happily sit with them.”

who makes the bed every morning?

“Steven,” she said simply, then flashed a smile. “He does it best. I think Jake puts in an attempt. And to be fair, Marc does too. Steven is impeccable.”

“I’m probably the worst on some days. My work is during the day or night, it depends. It’s not a set schedule. If I’m as nocturnal as they are, or Marc mostly, I’m usually up before them to try and do some yoga in actual daylight. The beds made by the time I’m back.” She paused, smile playing on her lips still. “If it’s a normal day and I’m asleep during the night, they usually come to bed when I should be waking up. …but perhaps I pretend to sleep a little longer.” Of course they knew it was pretend, but some things didn’t need to be said. She appreciated the lie in. She didn’t mind whether she was asleep at night or the day. Things changed so often, she was used to it.

who likes to keep the house cold and who likes to keep the house warm?

“The Mission is usually cold,” she said, scrunching up her nose before shrugging. “I don’t mind, really. And if it’s just me there’s a touch more warmth to the place.”

She couldn’t tell who liked it cold more or if none of them really cared. Since it didn’t bother her, she wasn’t going to change things. Besides, she liked wearing warm clothes. They were comfier.

who takes longer getting ready?

“I don’t think Jake or Marc would have a closer or wardrobe or dresser. I think for them it’s unnecessary.” It was a quirk that didn’t harm her, and so something she left be. Mostly. Jake had his style of clothing that suited him, and Marc had the suit. Civilian stuff? Not so much. Maybe a little more now. But hardly anything. Clothing didn’t bother her, and why force clothes on him he wasn’t comfortable in?

“Steven has his own style, and it’s quite dashing and dapper.” There was amusement in her tone, but it was good natured and her words were sincere. He looked good. The styles suited him. They ALL looked good - though she had to thank Marlene for showing her some of the very few pictures left from years ago. Boy, styles had really changed hadnt they? “He makes me look good when I stand next to him,” she joked, grinning brightly. “Out of the three, he takes longest. It’s understandable given his job. I’m probably behind him, but I do have magic on my side. And I’m in costume and uniform almost as much as Marc.”

who likes scary movies and who likes funny ones?

“I like scary movies. Marc, Steven, and Jake? They might watch them if I ask them to. It’s not their favourite style. I get it. They know real horror and scary stuff, plus some scary movies are plain awful. I guess for me it makes me feel better to see fake horror.” And she liked a safe thrill sometimes. “If I want to watch scary stuff, I can go to Marlene. I’m not going to force them to watch things. But I do like to watch movies now and then. I don’t know it’s just—- it’s taking a break.”

who screams when they see a bug and who ends up killing it?

She laughed at the question, trying to think about it. “I wish I could say Marc. It’s not Marc. I don’t know. I don’t scream, but it’s probably me that actually gets a start. It’s funny, I’ve fought giant bugs before but the small ones surprise me.” Wanda didn’t kill bugs, she also wouldn’t condemn people for doing that either. She mostly didn’t bother them until they bothered her. …had she once requested them to get rid of a bug that was bugging her? Maybe. Sometimes she forgot she had magic.

who is more technology challenged?

“We can all use technology. Jake uses it less. But I have to admire and be impressed that he doesn’t use the satnav as much as I do. It’s not that any of us can’t use technology, it’s that we just use it for different things.” She paused, thinking it over with a furrowed brow. When it came to technology, maybe even she used it less than others? “With being able to use magic, I guess don’t use it often. I mean, I don’t even use my phone much. I don’t— I mean, the Avengers get in contact. My brother just visits.”

who would be more likely to burn something in the oven?

“Marc and Steven can argue over this. They CAN cook, it’s just not often they do or want to. Jake can cook. Again, not often, but I like his meals.” Wanda gave a little nod, then tilted her head as she thought. “I can cook. I don’t do it a lot and it’s not like I’m a brilliant chef. But I can cook. I like to do it if I have some time. I don’t usually burn things. Honestly.“ She was better with vegetarian meals, but she would cook for them what they wanted - would be happy too. A take out now and then or cheap meal was fine occasionally, but not all the time. It was just one simple way of showing affection and warmth.

who talks in their sleep?

“I do. They do as well. Sometimes I can’t tell who,” she said, speaking softly and slowly. There was a pause, a shake of her head. “I speak usually during bad dreams. It’s not often, but I know it happens. Usually when I’m stressed before sleeping. Sometimes I talk outside of bad dreams.” At this, she brightened a little, soft and amused smirk beginning to grow on her features. “Actually, I maybe was a little evil. PERHAPS I have pretended to be asleep next to them and made a sleep request of something to do, or perhaps some action.” Credit to them for following through on the request. They probably knew she was awake, but in case they didn’t, Wanda knew a few mutterings in her sleep would make any of the three of them happy. Or blush. It depended.

who leaves the cap off the toothpaste?

“Jake has done it more than the others, I feel he gets distracted more though. I swear Steven has done it before rushing off, but he says otherwise.” Truthfully? She probably had done it herself. Marc was adamant he’d never done it, which definitely caused her to make a face when he’d said as much but she would believe him. It was a simple, small action, easily forgettable.

who likes getting dressed up more?

“Jake.” Said confidently and firmly, before the witch laughed. “Okay, probably Steven and I. We’re perhaps a bad match, trying to outdo one another - or, no, outdo everyone else. As I said, he makes me look good when I stand by his side.” Still with a smile, she added, “But Marc pulls off any look he tries. It’s usually the suit, sure. But he pulls off any look with ease.”

“I have to try hard. I use magic, sure, so I can’t complain. I have it easy. But I think they put me to shame sometimes.” Whether it was true or not didn’t matter, because she saw them look so good.

who’s better at tying ties?

“They can all tie them better than I can,” Wanda answered with a shrug. “I don’t have a lot of practice. I can. I suppose. Something simple.” She just simply didn’t have much need.

who recorded the answering machine message on the house phone?

“I have. Not that I think it gets any use. I don’t think it’s ever been used and I don’t ask why we need one.” She paused, thinking it over then added, “Hopefully it doesn’t get used. The message is pretty much just joking and for them to hear.”

who’s better at planning romantic things?

“Steven and Jake are really good. Their styles are so different, but I like the surprise. It’s going somewhere different, or leaving things behind for a while. It’s something big or something little.” It was something that was sincere, and she appreciated their actions so much. She always wanted to repay them.

“Marc…” She paused, her smile softening, “I don’t have a love language. I like them all. But I like being around people I care for. I know it can get in the way. But I never feel useless or annoying or that he wants me gone. I value his time with me. I like the little gestures. I don’t need the big gestures.” To just take off his mask was enough. She’d never push or request it. The mask was now… him. It was how he presented himself. It didn’t change how she felt. But to see him without was GOOD.

who takes up more space in the closet?

“Steven. Don’t even look at me, it’s definitely him.” Well, it was between the two of them. “It really isn’t Marc or Jake. I’m surprised they actually have clothes sometimes. Clothes that fit and aren’t filled with holes or tears.”

who has more of a sweet tooth?

“I won’t deny that it’s me. I also won’t deny that they have worked that out and like a child I am rewarded for certain things with candy. It works.” Look, after a long day there was still things that needed done. And she appreciated something sweet to give her energy and keep motivated. “They all their favourites, which took a while to work out because I’m not sure they were always truthful in telling me when they didn’t like something I gave them. Luckily, I’m not picky - sour, sweet, anything, it’s fine.”

who drinks more often?

She scrunched up her nose as she thought, an unconscious habit. “I don’t drink. Not often, I mean. I’m a lightweight and sometimes— well, sometimes I have medication to take. They don’t mix.” Did they drink? Sure. But they weren’t drunk in her presence.

who is most likely to laugh during a serious situation?

“Hm. I’m not sure. It could be any of us, depends on the situation.” She absolutely had laughed or been sarcastic in a serious moment. Her life was so often full of those moments, that she just needed to make light of some circumstances. And sometimes a bad guy just needed to be laughed at.

[hymnoire]

♣ + ( can I send one in for ga-ram & mara?? If you’re still taking these of course!! )

A letter from Mara to Garam, from the Dongbu penitentiary in Seoul.

       To a friend who became so much more : "For a long time, I didn't feel like the world was made for someone like me. Someone who's a little too raw, a little too rough. I have spent too many years, blood, sweat and tears trying. I tried yes, the hardest I could. And I managed it for a while, to get power, to get status, to get reputation, and I thought : I did it right ? I belong now? And yet it was never enough. I realize now that I lost everything, that the only times I felt like I belong was with you. Stealing your beer and making chili in your crappy apartment, when the outside world just did not exist anymore. I know now, all I needed was to find you, someone who's a little too raw, a little too rough, just like me. I know we don't say these things to each other, I know it's not Us to be like that but, I miss you."

       Send me ♣ + a ship and i’ll tell you…

Who is the better dancer?

Secretly Mara but neither of them wishes to dance in public. They usually simply stand by the counter, by the bar just the two of them, sharing a drink. "Come on you two don't be such a buzz, come and dance!" Would tell them the host of the party before going back to the dancefloor. Garam stays silent and keeps on drinking, he does not move a hinch. "Can't wait to arrest this one for fraud. Look at them all, dancing like they're embezzlement free." Mara replies, sipping on her drink as well. "Yeah well, rich people." Garam comments, not so pleased to be here in the first place. "Shit. Remember that man I told you I would keep an eye on tonight, he's staring at us." Mara speaks as she starts moving. "Ok let's act normal, let's dance. And I don't know, Smile or something. Let's go follow my lead." She would say dragging him there by the arm even if he sighs and complains.

Who likes the outdoors more and who likes the indoors more?

Both are indoors persons. Garam hates crowded places as for Mara, she likes privacy in general : even when meeting with people for business or anything else truly, she avoids to spend too much time surrounded by too many people. So when it's just the two of them, they love to stay inside, it's cozy and silent and comfortable.

Who’s a cat person and who’s a dog person?

Both are dog persons. Mara loves the dogs they train for police duties and get attached to them; she however does not imagine having one at home due to her barely being at her place. She oftens tells Garam a dog would be good company to them, however.

Who’s more social?

None of them which is hilarioius. They avoid socializing and when both trapped in a social situation, they try to call each other for help in order to get out of here fast. The only time it didn't work was when they pushed the door of a pub Mara took Garam to and everyone inside screamed " Surprise!" It was their coworkers, a surprise party for Garam's birthday. Garam leans to Mara for a whisper between his teeth. "Just the two of us you said?", Mara replies "I knooow, they told me to drag you here, my god I hate it. Let's just smile, pretend we care about the present you get, spoiler alert it's a tie it's ugly as fuck - we drink as much as we can, in two hours we get out of here and i don't know.. sex in the car?" Garam thinks of the pros and cons before answering. "Ok fine. 1 hour." He says. "1 hour and a half and you can use the tie on me." Mara adds, sticking her hand out for a handshake to the side. "Ok, deal." He says, shaking her hand with a pinch of a smile before their eyes go back to the crowd of coworkers waiting for them to join the 'party.' "Ugh." He speaks again. "God I know." She adds.

Who makes the bed every morning?

Garam does. Mara is pretty messy in general but as his place is far away enough from the station she works at, she wakes up a little early to avoid traffic. "You're not staying for breakfast?" He questions. "Oh wow breakfast? It's time for The Talk. It was just a one time thing babygirl, I'm not interested in marrying you and carrying your loud babies." Speaks Mara, of course filled of sarcasm. "Shut up." He would say with a side smile on and she would laugh, slipping in her jeans and white t shirt and leather jacket. "Next time. I gotta go, crisis meeting with the higher ups today it's a big deal. Tomorrow night, beer and a movie?" She questions while tying her air up. "Yeah alright." He says. "Good, see you."

Who likes to keep the house cold and who likes to keep the house warm?

Mara likes the warm better, she usually overheats her own apartment so whenever Garam is over, it's too warm for him as he keeps his place cold. "I'm sweating in here." He says. "Oh come on it's the perfect temperature so I can walk in my underwear and look so so so so cuute and sexyy for you." She says with a tiny voice and a cute yet awful pose. "Jesus never say that ever again." He answers. "Ugh you're right that was disgusting-." She says immediatly cutting the act, with a disgusting facial expression. "No for real go take a shower, " He says. "I know I'm such dirty dirty little girl." She adds as she keeps on teasing this time striking another awful pause. This time he laughs. "Shut up and go."

Who takes longer getting ready?

None. Garam doesn't spend much time, first of all he so looks good the way he is, and he doesn't doll himself up nor spend hours choosing his clothes. Mara neither : it isn't that she's not feminine, her femininity comes from how natural she is, she does not wear make up, there is a natural elegance in her monochrome and classic simple fashion sense, it''s rather effortless hence why she does not spend hours getting ready neither.

Who likes scary movies and who likes funny ones?

Funny movies aren't their go to but they like these at least better than horror movies which they find extremely boring and well, unscary. They like movies that make they think, thrillers, psychological movies. Sometimes it's action movies when they look for a no brainer. They actually watch a lot of movies together, it feels peaceful on a saturday night after declining all the invites they received.

Who screams when they see a bug and who ends up killing it?

None of them scream.

Who is more technology challenged?

None.

Who would be more likely to burn something in the kitchen?

They are both comfortable with cooking like responsible adults can be, it's rare for them to burn anything. At first, they used to order food a lot to go with the beers. Mara loves the burgers from that one place in hongdae. One time they did try to order but it was a little too late for that - and so Mara grabbed a pan while Garam was in the shower. "You didn't join me?" He asks once he gets out - it's true she does that sometimes. "As much as I have a thing for water cascading down your abs... " Oh she does. "I thought I could fix us a little something with what was left in your fridge. Now stop distracting me, put some clothes." She jokes. He comes closer and tastes with his fingers. "Huh that's spicy? What is it? Is that Latin cuisine or something?" He questions. "Yeah... It's the only dish my dad could make, back in San Juan. It's simple but it's good, right." Mara answers. "San Juan. I had no idea. Lim Mara doesn't sound so latino." He comments. He never truly asks questions he's afraid she wouldn't be comfortable with. He respects her boundaries, she likes that. "It's Maritza, actually. Maritza Lim Guerrero- Mara is fine." She pauses. "Here, I added, some pepper, tell me how it is."

Who talks in their sleep?

Mara does. Again she is a little bit messy so whenever she sleeps, she speaks, she pulls the blankets, she pushes him. "Next time you're sleeping in your own bed jeez." He says.

Who leaves the cap off the toothpaste?

Mara does and it annoys Garam a lot since he told her 100 times Not to do that.

Who likes getting dressed up more?

They both aren't so interested in fashion and dressing up isn't their main concern. However it does happen for Mara to get herself into soirées and events as she wants to keep and eye on someone for her own agenda, her own investigations as a detective or when she is invited somewhere by the political spheres. She looks breathtaking in long black dresses. "So... How do I look?" She would question Garam as she enters the room. "Are you sure you don't wanna come? As my +1?"

Who’s better at tying ties?

Both. Mara also wear ties sometimes. They help each other tying it up when one of them has something important to get properly dressed up for.

Who recorded the answering machine message on the house phone?

Garam took care of it but when Mara listened to it she couldn't help but to smile to herself, recognizing his signature stoicism. It was close to two words : "Not here." - " You could at least say leave a message, is it too much words?" Mara asks him, to tease.

Who’s better at planning romantic things?

Mara is. Not necessarily wanting it to be romantic but it ends up being romantic. The day after his surprise birthday party with his coworkers, the one he hated, she waits for him at his place and she cooks a little something and lights a few candles lighted up. "What's happening..?" He questions as he sees her at his place, getting everything ready for a night together. "Well, I know you hated yesterday's party but it doesn't mean your birthday shouldn't be celebrated, yeah? I made some chilli. My grandmother's recipe. I found a nice movie we can watch and got you a stupid little hat to put on your head when you blow a candle." She smiles. "Just the two of us. No one else. For real this time."

Who takes up more space in the closet?

None of them. They only have the necessary amount of clothes.

Who has more of a sweet tooth?

For halloween, Mara bought candies. "Is that for the kids?" He questions. "Naa. I thought we could like open the door, tell the kids we don't have any candy and keep them all for ourselves." And so they did.

Who drinks more often?

Mara, as her secrets are becoming heavier and heavier, she tends to drink a lot. Too much. "You're drinking too much." Garam tells her. "I know, I fucking know." She replies, being a mess. "Come on, let's get you home." Garam says with the will of taking care of her in this situation. "I'm fucking pathetic, what the fuck is wrong with me huh." Mara then asks him. "Come on, let's get you to bed." He adds.

Garam also had his moments, after everything that went down with Yohan, his depression and the unwanted memories of it - the alcohol helps whenever his head is too filled. "Hey, just.. put your head down my thighs and close your eyes. Listen to me, let's empty your head." She whispers to him.

Who is most likely to laugh during a serious situation?

Mara. It actually doesn't take long for her to start laughing. Sometimes out of being a total cunt if she wants to point out the absurdity of a situatio, most of the time simply because she cannot remain serious for too long.

[shizuokadivision]

Knock. Knock.

Hearing an unusual sound in front of her lab, the mad scientist of Shizuoka reluctantly snaps her sense back from her current self-proclaimed activities ‘for the sake of science’. Since there is such a rare case to have some idiots step into her territory and rarer with someone who dares enough to interrupt her by banging at her fucking lab’s doors, she decides to go do some checkup on the security cameras.

Surprisingly, what she finds outside is a bit beyond her expectations.

Not a single soul is found in her building except for a rusted trolley in the corridor —which she recognizes to be the one that she used for taking some useless subjects out of her lab. With the flickering dim lights out there; fortunately(?), the trolley isn’t as ‘dirty’ as it used to be back in a few days ago to make her house look more like those in horror movies than it already is.

Moreover, there is a package neatly wrapped in the furoshiki style placed on top of it as well as a pot of green plant, and beside them is a white folding card laying not further away.

“Apologizing for intruding and arriving a bit late, ma’am. Hopefully, I suppose the person who is now reading this is none other than Ms. Hojo of Shizuoka’s ‘Silent Tradgedy’. 

As the emissary from a certain new division, I’ve arrived here on behalf of Mr. Kanata and Mr. Tomoharu to deliver their blessings on your special occasion. Oh, not a fan of celebrating your own birthday? Never mind that then, here also has one kid who seems to have the same underlying issue, maybe you can think of them as their greeting gifts. Those kids have been lately making it their personal goal to greet as many divisions as they could by doing this kind of stuff. It may not be something valuable or expensive but I beg of you to please at least accept their hospitality.

Mr Tomoharu has made you his homemade Dorayaki. However, this time he modified the original recipe a little by making them with dark cocoa and vanilla cream. Ah, if you are worried about whether it’s safe or not, please rest assured; that kid has no way of knowing how to use poison.

Next is Mr Kanata; he has submitted two CDs contained in the case. The first one is his remix of relaxing classical tracks he had personally selected and mixed back in his old days. Flipping to the other side, you will see the second CD which he told me it’s called ‘White noise ASMR’. He also said he has attempted to use binaural tones in it too …and I’m afraid to say they’re quite unfamiliar terms to me. Though, he has told me that he doubts it could help relieve your migraine since his listeners have given him the feedback that it has somehow helped them on relaxing and studying.

Lastly, the plant in the pot is ‘Golden Pothos’ for Mrs Aichi since last time we couldn’t participate in her birthday celebration. Mr Kanata said it’s a nice indoor plant that can help purify the polluted air. 

Hope you have a nice year

Best wishes

—Just some passerby old man.” 

The Nara Division? To be honest Kanon out of all the divisions she thought would give her a gift Nara hadn't been one to cross her mind. Kanon hasn't been able to do much research on them. What she had found about the leader was so interesting. Reika and Sakura were currently the ones who know more about them. Sighing as she realized that these were more gifts Kanon walked to where the package was placed. Picking up the card nearby she began to read it. Going around and greeting all the divisions? Kanon wished Nara all the luck in the world some of the divisions were not some of the nicest around. Shizuoka included. 

Picking up one of the dorayaki Kanon took a bite and had to admit it was delicious. Poison? Kanon snorted at the idea of that. She’d seen a picture of Asahi Tomoharu before and he looked like he would cry if he stepped on a cat’s tail. No, he was much too kind for that. Besides poison wouldn't work on her anymore it wouldn't work on any of the three of them actually Reika had made sure of that. Taking another bite Kanon wondered if she can get more of these. She rarely left Shizuoka but Kanon was willing to make an exception if this was what she could get in Nara. Anything to get something she was able to scarf down without vomiting.

Yuuya Kanata? Wasn't he the one that was related to? Ah yes, he was. Kanon couldn't help but morbidly wonder if he knew that he was related to that woman. The last time Kanon had seen her they had fought to a standstill. Shaking her head to disperse the memories, Kanon looked at the gift he had given her. White noise? Well, Kanon would give him credit for trying. Her migraines went far deeper than what most anybody knew. At least she could play it when she’s asleep. One of the few times her mind was silent even if was getting harder and harder to do nowadays.

Kanon wondered if the boys from Nara knew that their gift for Reika was toxic. Oh sure, it wasn't very strong but if there was anybody on this planet who could weaponize its toxicity it was Reika. Picking up the pot Kanon inspected the vine. While botany wasn't her area of expertise like it was Reika’s, Kanon knew enough about the subject. It was always fascinating listening to Reika explain what plants could do. That they were so much more than pretty flowers. Suddenly an idea crossed Kanon’s mind. One that wouldn’t be too difficult to pull off.

“I wonder if Reika would mind if I made a few modifications to this? She seems to be doing well with the plant I gave her for her birthday. Perhaps she’ll enjoy another one like it.”

[screechingsigh]

Dad is probably angry. He let my strictly indoor cat run outside. He might get lost outside and never come back. He might get run over by a car. I'd never see him again. He is a picky eater who'll give him food that he likes.

Dad often tells me I am being too much and my cat is an unnecessary addition. There are 5 cats in the house right now. Dad brought the first one. She was tiny around 4 days old. He rescued the kitten brought is home and he was done. I bought bottles, learned to make replacement food for the kitten and the bought KMR with my own savings. I took care of a 4days old kitten feeding her every 2 hours for 24 hours round the clock. Fed her, help her pee, hot water bags. Every 2 hours. She was weak a terribly weak kitten. Nobody thought she'd survive.

My dad brought my Grandma home and asked me to share my room with her because my grandma needs someone to keep an eye on her. 96 years old is pretty old. I was stuck between a 2 weeks old kitten and a 96 year old grandma.

I would run to the kitten whenever she meowed. At two weeks old she didn't grow enough fur like a healthy kitten would.

My grandma is a weird person she'd ask for my help even when she needs to walk to the washroom while she could actually go by herself. I'd always keep an eye whenever she went to washroom anyway. She would not get up to eat she wants to eat lying down. I helped her everytime to get up and eat while sitting. Then one day I saw she simply got up by herself and went to washroom then came back and lie down again. She was fast and swift. And here I thought it's difficult for her to move by herself so I needed to be her walking stick. She never used one btw. Then I got in the room with her food and as usual she refused to sit up and eat. I was dumbfounded. If you can move that fast and efficient why would you not sit up and eat?

And there was the thing she did. Every half an hour she would ask me to switch on/off the fan. Sometimes every 10/15 mins. Even if I was taking a nap (I barely slept for around 3/4 hours a day while taking care of the kitten my dad brought and grandma). I was sleep deprived. Well I do have insomnia but that doesn't mean I need no sleep. My eyes and head hurt every single day. I kept up for 2 months like this.

During these two months my dad was very amiable with me. He actually gave me 45$ after that two hellish months saying I earned it. Which I ended up spending behind the cat he brought. Cats are costly. Not for my dad but for me a recent graduate with part-time online job and loads of failed interviews.

The only positive thing my grandma every said to me that I was taller than her. She also often speak about how my hair is short how I am not girly enough how I am too tall to find a good husband

how my skin color isn't bright enough

Now a days I don't care about her much. I left my room to her. Moved inside the storeroom. Shut the door turn off the light put on my earphones. Finally it's peaceful.

I am preparing for a job interview again. Hopefully I'll have better luck this time. And the male cat I adopted so my dad's cat (which I took care of) wouldn't develop a single kitten symptom.. I just hope my dad won't drive him away.

It's not that unlikely for dad to drive my cat away. He wants me gone as well after all. We are both unwanted. I wish I could function like everyone else does. I'd have been easier to secure a job.