#not saying i predicted he'd make a good cat but maybe i did

[soyouwinagain]

cat behavior | 1 june 2024

[kaszuma]

Certainly Yours | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 1 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: you and soshiro had been friends for a while now. But sometimes he really tests those boundaries of his

warnings: none. Just light touches but nothing suggestive.

wc: 1,420

--

note: first time writing for Hoshina. Sorry if there are inconsistencies or mistakes.

--

Soshiro Hoshina had always been unreadable. Even in the most dire of circumstances, you were always one step behind at predicting the carefully planned steps he took whenever you had the chance of encountering him.

It was evident in the fact that his smile never seemed to reach the crinkles under his eyes. And that cat-like appearance of his, though slackened. Had always made you feel as if he had been observing things thoroughly from a distance. Watching with keen interest as if he knew more than he let others perceive him to know.

And today was no exception.

The constant proximity between each other had been…frustrating to say the least. Whether that would be brushing his shoulders against your own during official meetings. Or placing a steady hand on the small of your back as he moved across the very open spaces of the hallway. You couldn't help but sneak glances at the way his expression had not changed one bit. In fact, it looked rather bemused. As if ignorant to the little touches he'd stolen from you during work. Let alone the glances you two would share even when Captain Ashiro had been right in front of you. Discussing more important matters that surely the Vice Captain had not been listening to.

But to your surprise, he always did. And was usually the first to provide solutions whenever the captain would ask. Leaving you to be the one flustered as you had not been distracted by his knowing gaze.

Because of this, your mind was instantly on the lookout for his next scheme.

I mean who would blame you?

You couldn't help but think this was all another gimmick of his. Entertainment. Just like how he had taken interest in that new recruit they had gotten recently. His motivations are as sly as they are intriguing it seems. And the more you try to decipher his laid-back facade, the less information you get. Keeping his cards close to his chest, as usual.

The Vice Captain had always been like that. His earnesty was often hidden from prying eyes. Though very few were privy to it, there were only very few who were familiar to him. Even Okonogi; likely the one who stuck around with the two Captains, would just let out a sigh at his jubilant expressions.

It had only been a good few years since you had been deployed to work under the Defense Force. Tasked on maintaining the Combat Suits in the case that they needed upgrades, or maybe a few repairs. And since then, the Vice Captain of the Third Division's force had always hovered behind like a thorn on your side.

Close enough so that it's able to poke and scratch you, but far enough away that it doesn't overstay its welcome. Yet somehow you lingered for those touches to stay just a little longer.

His usual friendly quips and visits had been frequent. But they were always curt, his teasing would always leave you with heated cheeks before he would soon disappear as quickly as he came. Like a storm who came to pass by momentarily. He was sure to make a mess out of you.

But the tension had always been palpable between you and Soshiro. Especially now when he had just so happened to enter the premises of your Lab. Wearing that familiar Tight-fitting Combat Suit of his. Respiratory mask and all.

“Vice Captain.” you had smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you grace me with your presence.”

“Just a maintenance check.” He replied just as quickly. Making you raise a suspicious brow.

“Oh really?” You had moved away from the desk. Neatly brushing away the stack of blueprints that had been piling up. Likely a courtesy from Izumo Tech who were your previous employers. “What's wrong with the suit?”

Hoshina had not wasted a second to step much closer to you. And though normally you would feel a little giddy from his proximity, you wasted no effort to move closer yourself. Hand against the coarse texture of his Combat Suit that hugged the hard ridges of his body. Willingly searching around for any such deformities in the armor. As even the slightest malfunction can mean life or death for frontliners like him. But alas, no such cracks were found. Leaving you to stare at his unwavering eyes.

“I don't see anything wrong with it. Can you tell me anything specific that I can fix up?”

Soshiro had hummed for a moment. Taking his time as he pretended to be deep in thought.

“I guess there's none that I can think of.” Soshiro had let out a soft chuckle. And although the mask had covered half of his face, you could tell that grin of his was definitely there.

“What? Then why did you even come here?”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again.

“Aren't I allowed to visit a friend?”

And you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes. The clear faux reasoning of his was amusing at most. But it's definitely making you second guess yourself.

“Friend you say?” You had chuckled, leaning back on your chair whilst facing him. His form had towered over you who had been caged against the chair and his arms.

“First time I've heard of it.” You shrugged. More of a jest in your tone.

“Hey now, and here I thought we had something special.” He chuckled, displaying faux hurt.

And you couldn't help but be frustrated at the way he so meticulously words things.

Something special, huh?

If it were any girl, they'd probably start getting delusional from his words alone. But Soshiro was someone who had no trouble deceiving. Facades and all. And you knew better than to take his words at face value.

But if it were not a joke, then..

…

“Are we Friends?” You had asked again. Just to make sure that you had not been misunderstanding things.

And there was another moment of silence between both parties.

You didn't know exactly what came over you at the moment. It just blurted out, almost as if you had been so frustrated at the way he tiptoed around you. Any confrontation, any meaningful conversation would always be cut short as soon as it started.

And you wonder if you had made the mistake of mentioning the giant elephant in the room.

His expression is as unreadable as ever. And for a moment, you thought you had made a fool out of yourself. Maybe whatever hint he was playing at had all been in your head. As if you had convinced yourself somehow that his interest in you was something more. Something that could indeed grow special. But second-guessing is part of Soshiro's package. And you can't really trade one without the other.

And for a moment a sinking feeling had placed itself in the pit of your stomach. Like you had made a painfully unwise decision that would leave you embarrassed for the next seven years of your life.

But Hoshina had simply stared. It felt like only mere seconds before he leaned in. Hands gripping the arms of the chair you sat on. Effectively trapping you with his body. With no chance of escaping away from his answer.

And just as you are sandwiched between him and the back of the chair. His face had neared your ear. And you could hear the faint breaths from the mask he wore.

“I'm yours certainly. Whether you are mine is up to you.”

His voice had gone an octave lower. And it made you wonder if you were truly hearing him right.

Yeah, no. Friend was definitely not the right word for this. But the admission of it was harder to coax out of him than when you had internalized the thought. The only way to have him say it straight is if you yourself came in like a bull seeing red.

And you sigh at your own lack of subtlety. “Is that your way of asking me out?”

“Maybe.” The slight hesitation in his answer made you raise your brow at him. And you end up sighing, letting go of a breath you didn't know you were holding.

“Your delivery could use some work.”

“I know.” He spoke with an awkward smile. “Do I take that as a yes?”

You smiled. This time, intent on playing his game of cat and mouse. “Maybe.”

And god will you be the death of him.

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

[seelestia]

v v true!!! oooh omg i remember watching coraline. i'm not much of a horror movie fan (says the one who writes stuff like yandere lmao) so honestly speaking that movie creeped me out esp the eyes halkjfdlakjsd i'm a scaredy cat yup- corpse bride was a delight to watch tho! comfort movies... hmmm. here's the thing, i... i don't watch a lot of movies hahahh 

both you gotta do both. remember to not always give in to that charming smile and scold him sometimes lmao awh lil tsundere lia and the deredere ayato.... new trope unlocked? ;) hsldjfl that sounds very cute and adventurous...... i'd imagine if i caught you two sneaking about at night i'll shut my lips (nepotism at its finest-) and silently sends you away- oh dear hello professor zhongli fancy seeing you here so late at night wow sure is sunny tonight huh haha haha oops i mean moony uh um heh-

THAT WOULD LITERALLY BE ME omg i'll nestle right onto his sides and tuck myself in a floofy blanket and fall asleep hearing his soft breathing. heizou would talk your ears off throughout the movie. somehow predicts the movie's plot within the first ten minutes of watching. welp since the movie's spoiled anyway let's just sleep 😴 

ooooh i am e.x.c.i.t.e.d!!! lmao oh no is this my cue to swoop in to grab zhongli's hand and propose like "I HAVE MONEY YOU CAN USE IT"-

lia. lia i have seen you fawn over scara on your priv. you're down bad. the gremlin man has taken hold of you hsldjfklsd have you seen his teaser? and the voicelines? my god. i am so glad i'll be pulling for him. dw i shall take a lot of screenshots hehehehehehe

we've got meteors and air blades falling from the sky.... next we know al haitham's burst would be durians falling from the sky or something- /j

you're finally welcoming your beloved in your arms!!! woooo!!! so. when's the wedding gonna be at- /lh

it's ok if their back aches we can always pull them aside and persuade them to spend time with us with a massage ✨

well, rin jie, you're stuck with me because i love horror movies (but i prefer psychological horror that makes me take a step back to think) 🤫 i am linking my arms with you so you cannot escape as we speak, hehe. (/lh) and dw abt not being much of a movie watcher, comfort comes in many ways and objects like food and blankets and zhongli's arms—

i am pretty good at scolding people without being a spoilsport (and i always happen to get attracted to brats with brains heizou and scara), so rest assured ayato is left under good supervision! >:) AND I SWEAR I AM A HOSTAGE-TURNED ACCOMPLICE... rin jie, your kindness will be the kickstart to my nepo baby era. (/j) but i'll do my best to make you proud! you can trust me on potions and herbology ;D i think ayato would excel at charms and have lots of interest in the study of ancient runes?? but wbu, what subjects would you and oh-so gracious professor zhongli would teach?? hehe, my fav couple to tease and giggle at as long as i don't get points off hufflepuff >:3c (/lh)

and i've gotta say that zhongli genuinely looks like he'd be the warmest and coziest to cuddle out of all the men?? i'm not sure if it's the earthy color palette he has, but i still gotta hand it to you 🤧 ayato's is also cozy since you get bonuses of having your hair smoothened and played with whilst you snooze on his chest or maybe i'm just biased, HELP??

yes, i've finally put aside my pride to admit that i am now an official scara kisser. i can't believe i have way more posts on my priv about denying scara instead of expressing my love for ayato 😮‍💨 i'm not sure if you played thru the interlude quest but lmk if you did because that quest was the final push for me personally, UUUUUU. OH AND DO SEND ME THOSE SCREENSHOTS 👀 make him do a michael jackson spin in the air (/j)

I SAW ALHAITHAM'S LEAKS... and iirc, the names for his talents are literally topics in physics??? THIS MAN 😭 good luck getting him soon, rin jie! it seems yaoyao will be on his banner?? she's super cute, but i'm still waiting for kaveh tho fhejkskek. OH AND I HOPE YOU'LL WIN THE 50/50 FOR AYATO TOO! <3 this update's 2nd phase is about to be my spending phase because i'll be pulling for ei on 50/50 after i get ayato 🤧 i think ei + ayato will be a good combo, so i'm really hoping i get her! if not, then guaranteed for alhaitham maybe?? or i'll save for another rerun or for future fontaine characters >:)

[the-slasher-madame]

If you're still doing requests: What if the slashers had a S/O who could control animals? (Straight up, this mf could make a group of rats conga line with a few hand movements, lol) Bonus points: Maybe this ability was the reason the slashers didn't kill them initially? (I love your headcanons so far, btw! Especially the geese one, lol I hope you have a lovely day/night!)

HEEHEHEHEHEHEHE I LOVE IT!!!!! Animals r so cool lol. I'm remember Ratcatcher II from The Suicide Squad and I am loving it. For some reason I'm reminded of a story where this one girl did like freeform taxidermy?? Only tenuously connected, but hey my brain is missing a few washers. I'm glad you like the geese!!!! I love geese so, so much. I see them at school and its all heart eyes.

CWs: mentions of violence (it's slashers y'all, they go stab and we go "yes king <3", cursing (think y'all are used to that by now lol), let me know if I missed anything!!!

Vincent Sinclair: I genuinely think this boy is very soft. I firmly believe he loves animals and the soft side of life, so he would love that you have such a connection with animals. I think he'd worry about if the animals are ok when all this happens, but he thinks its so cool. I think he'd beg you to bring animals around so he could pet them and sketch them with a proper model.

I think, in Ambrose, the most likely animals on hand would be squirrels, rabbits, and snakes, none of which he's noticed behave the way they do when you're summoning them for protection. You just make a solid line of defense, and he knows better than to fuck with snakes, so he just stops and waits for Bo. Bo is terrified and probably thinks you're Satan, but Vinny is gonna be absolutely fascinated. He begs Bo to keep you around, and Bo was a little too scared to deny it. Would make sure to get you anything you need if it tires you out and would have food and water on hand for the animals. Jonesy is off-limits, unless she's run off and they can't find her (I feel like you can kinda sense the animals around you??).

Bo Sinclair: I just have a gut feeling that this boy is terrified of supernatural shit, at least if you use that supernatural shit against him lol. He loves asking you to do stuff like this as a party trick. Wants to use you to help when hunting (animals), but would also test to see if you can control humans. I think also in softer moments he would love interacting with animals he usually doesn't get to see up close. And, if he pisses you off, I think you could use the woodland critters to your advantage. . . thefUCK DID THESE SQUIRRELS COME FROM--

Would feel the same way about you controlling Jonesy, using it only if she's lost and possibly in danger (but he's also the type to say "she can handle herself" so he'd wait a little bit). Did not appreciate being attacked by the small creatures when he tried to catch you, but he had his shotgun and you cared for the animals and were getting tired. It was quite the stalemate, and quite the compromise. Would every once in a while ask you to bring animals around for Lester to play with, or for Vinny to use as models, or even for Jonesy to play with. He's a family man, what can I say

Michael Myers (RZ): as per usual, stoic and seems uncaring. He isn't the most gentle person ever (he was raised in an asylum by a fucked up doctor-I'll talk about him later, but he's gonna handle animals like a small child). Rough but trying his best, doesn't mean to hurt them. I think using animals would be a good therapy technique, give him something to learn how to be soft with. Starts to love when you bring animals around, and learns to be gentle. Back to the beginning though: like a cat, rather predictably. Sometimes glares at the animals, especially if they decide he is the new mama. I think he would hiss, but he doesn't talk so he just glowers until the animal wonders away (but their insistence starts to warm his heart).

I think birds would be what save you from Mikey. He's marching after you in the dark nature-y parts of Haddonfield, and you summon birds to swarm him. I don't think he'd really react much to the pecking and scratching, might be more sensitive to the noise, but is overall just curious. Like "well this is new." (I think creativity and novelty is like the key way to get him to spare you). He likes to study, and would absolutely observe your power. Y'all stare at each other while you catch your breathe and the birds swarm the Boogeyman, and eventually he turns and walks off. You start catching sight of him following you, eventually, but he never made a move to harm you so you let it be. Eventually becomes very soft with the animals and loves feeling how soft they are, feeling their warmth and feeling them breathe while they lay next to you on his chest.

Thomas Hewitt: I’m sorry y’all, I’m just convinced that this family is terrified of the supernatural. With every superpower, Thomas is a little freaked, Luda Mae is looking for holy water, Hoyt is convinced the devil has finally come for him (he should be worried more about me), and Monty is laughing at Hoyt. However, I think this power would be one that wouldn’t freak them out as much. Like gee animals?? Hoyt and Monty particularly are gonna think you’re harmless, and Luda is going to be a little hesitant around you but overall think you won’t hurt anyone, and Thomas is gonna be so soft. He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Like awwww you’re animal themed 🥺🥺 They’d definitely make you take care of rats and maybe get the animals (if they have any on their farm??) to come to slaughter easier. Thomas wouldn’t like that idea, he wants to keep you protected from all the violent shit, and Hoyt would be pissed if you refused. Will start being an ass and Thomas starts to glare at him... and you call on the rabbits and birds. Hoyt never yells at you again. Ever. 

I think more small woodland critters would be the most readily accessible. Rabbits, squirrels, birds (can y’all tell I like birds yet lol?). Rats, you’re going to find rats in the basement ad get them to chew through your bindings. When Tommy comes back and finds you free, terrified, and surrounded by rats, he’s going to go get the rest of the family and let you live. I another one that loves loves loves getting to interact with animals up close. Loves petting rabbit (I also love rabbits). Loves the birds landing on his finger like a Disney princess. Feels bad when he has to butcher pigs, and keeps you away from the family cannibal business at all costs. Understands that you’re connected to animals and doubts its any easier when its you know...humans. Mesmerized by you, your powers, and your looks

Brahms Heelshire: he’s a bit conflicted. One one hand, this boy was undoubtably a bookworm, I mean what else could he do while being exiled to the walls?? Anyways, he feels like you’re a character from his childhood books and it makes him love you even more, already associating you with pleasant memories. On the other hand, what the fuck people aren’t supposed to do that????? I think he learns about your power while he’s still in the walls, and he gets over it pretty quickly seeing how careful you are with the doll and other critters you find around the mansion. You refuse to use the rat traps and at first he’s a little annoyed, but then he sees your power and starts to understand why. I think when y’all finally do meet, he’s trying to be as non-threatening as possible and you have gathered an army of rats. He doesn’t move toward you, just starts talking softly and trying to explain who he is. You’d eventually have to ask him to repeat it all cause you were busy trying to not have a heart attack and a stroke at once. Y’all manage to come to an understanding. 

While out of the walls, he will pester you with as many questions as he can get out of his mouth. He’s a curious boy, what can I say? I think, like Mikey, he would be a little rough on the animals first before learning to properly handle them. For the love of every god, please use the animals like therapy animals. He can play and pet with them while also learning to confront the trauma of his bullshit parents. I think he would really like rabbits, cause he has the childlike center, and could learn to be decently ok with the rats but I don’t think he will touch them. When deer wander through, he gets super excited. I think he would warm up to a cat or a dog in the house. WAIT NO HE’D MAKE A DOLL OF THE PET TO MATCH HIS DOLL AWWWWWWW!!! Would also probably make woodland dolls. He’d be happy that his doll isn’t lonely anymore :D

Alright, I’ve got the first 5. Let me know if y’all want more!!! I love fluff like this its so cuteeee And n case it wasn’t obvious, I really like birds and rabbits (my favorite plushies are rabbis :3). I can’t tell y’all how honored I feel to be getting requests and follows and just I’m soft 🥺. I’ve never been real popular or had like a solid community of my own so this is all really special to me, and I will be thanking y’all as often as possible <33333

[rhysismydaddy]

Prisoner's Game Pt. 1 (Rowaelin)

Synopsis: Aelin Galathynius never thought of herself as a vengeful woman. Until her boyfriend not only testifies, but leads a case against her that lands her in prison for the rest of her life. Post I-Love-You's. He didn't believe her, and she's about to show him that not only is she innocent, he made the worst mistake of his life betting against her. To a woman with nothing but time, life's just a game, after all.

The cinderblock wall dug into her back uncomfortably as she reclined against it, the air in the room was stale, and she hadn't showered in two days. By any measurement, Aelin Galathynius was far from her best.

And yet she somehow managed to look perfectly at ease--happy even--as she lounged in her cell, toying with the ends of her too-long hair.

It was a ruse, of course, just a little trick to piss off the man currently stomping into her space. By the flare of Rowan Whitehorn's eyes, it worked.

"Hello, Rowan," she greeted pleasantly, giving him a little smile and acting like it wasn't taking everything in her not to use the makeshift knife under her pillow to gut him like the spineless coward he was.

She could tell, even across her 8x12 cell, that he was gritting his teeth and fighting a similar action.

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers clicked as he walked across the space to the small table and took a seat at the steel chair in front of it. He tried to push it out further, but stopped when he realized it was bolted to the floor.

"Aelin," he said back, none of the so-obvious anger he was feeling present in his voice. "Been a long time."

Eight years, six months, three weeks, two days, and thirteen hours.

Not that she was counting or anything.

She nodded her agreement, reclining further on the bed and crossing her legs as if she was in the finest dress she owned, not a faded orange jumpsuit.

"What brings you to my side of town, Rowan? Here to finally switch sides and represent me?"

Dressed in a two-thousand dollar suit and tie, hair perfectly gelled back, he looked like he was successful a lawyer meeting with a wealthy client, but they both knew the last thing he'd ever do was work for her.

"You know why I'm here."

She did indeed, but she still said, "I must be exceptionally smart to know why you've come all the way here-"

"Cut the shit," he snapped, finally losing a bit of his cool. He regained it quickly, though, and continued, "I want to know how you did it."

She frowned at her split ends. "Did what?"

Rowan waited until she looked at him to respond. "You know what."

Sighing so deeply it should've rattled the walls, she said, "I can't believe I've spent the last eight years thinking you underestimated my intelligence. You clearly think I'm some sort of oracle genius."

Rowan mimicked her sigh, and she bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

Probably trying to stall, he spent a moment looking at her cell, at the completely bare walls and lack of photographs. All she had was the tally marks drawn in pencil on one wall and a dusty chess set sitting on the table.

When he'd taken inventory of those two things, he sat and just looked at her.

It was clear she wouldn't admit to knowing exactly why he sat in front of her, and he was simply putting off being the one to fold.

Predictable, proud little man.

Eventually, he took his loss and said, "I want to know how you managed to rob me from inside the most secure prison in Rifthold."

She smiled, a full, undulated smile she hadn't used in a long time.

She'd been planning this moment since the day the bars had locked behind her, and it felt damn good to finally see it come to fruition.

According to what she'd heard, definitely not what she knew from personal experience, the private vault in Rowan's apartment had been broken into. Apparently, only one thing was missing: an antique dagger that had been handed down in the family and was now worth over a million bucks.

"Why do you think it was me?" she asked, still smiling.

He gritted his teeth some more, and she internally snickered at the idea he'd have permanent tooth damage because of her. Something else to remember her by.

Green eyes spitting flames at her, he growled, "You left a goddamn business card."

Aelin forced her eyes up to the empty bed above her head, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Maybe I'm being framed?"

"Your fingerprints were on it."

She did laugh then, then laughed some more when his eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to strangle her. "Rowan, in case you haven't noticed, I'm incarcerated."

She gestured around them to her cell to prove her point.

The bastard just smiled.

Of course he knows that, she thought bitterly, forcing her hand back to her lap and away from where it'd started to creep toward the pillow.

"So how would I rob you?" she asked, getting her mind back on track.

"That's what you're going to tell me," he demanded angrily. "I want to know how you got out of here, got all the way across Rifthold, broke into my apartment, and stole from me without any surveillance camera picking it up."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, fluffing it just right. When she caught sight of the impatience on his face, she fluffed it some more and readjusted the thin jacket on her shoulders.

It was always too damn cold in this place. She hadn't been warm in almost nine years.

Because of him.

Just for that, she fluffed her hair some more.

Then she said simply, "I didn't."

"Stop lying!" he shouted at her, eyes flashing.

She wasn't, but that was besides the point.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes like he'd won. "I got my cousin to-"

"Aedion spent the night in Wendlyn. His travel is verified, and there are at least a hundred eye witnesses that witnessed him singing karaoke all night. Stop. Fucking. Lying."

Once again, she wasn't lying.

Aedion sure as hell hadn't been in Wendlyn last night. She'd just wanted to make sure his alibi was air-tight as planned.

Sighing again, she asked, "Rowan, even if I did do it, why the hell would I tell you about it?"

His jaw worked for a moment, and she could tell whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "I'll get time off your sentence if you tell me what you've done with it."

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it.

It burst out of her, full and uncontrollable, and she flopped over on the dirty mattress and howled for a good few minutes.

He glared at her, looking for all the world like he was experiencing a portion of the rage she was made of, but regardless of the threat in his eyes, she took her time composing herself.

"I'm serving ten consecutive life sentences, you idiot."

One for each and every one of her "victims."

"I'll make it nine," he offered generously.

"Even if I was a cat, that'd still leave me dying in a prison cell. Offer me something else."

He just glared at her, unwilling to give her anything she could actually use or want. Just like she'd expected.

"That's what I thought. So no, Rowan Whitehorn, I'm not accepting your little deal. You can think I robbed you all you want; hell, you can even know, in your famous gut, that I did it." She tilted her head, a cruel smile filling her lips. "But it isn't about what you believe, it's about what you can prove. Isn't that right?"

His eyes shuttered at the words, and just like that, they were sucked into the memory of all those years ago.

~Eight years ago~

~Rowan~

Rowan rolled over, edging away from the woman next to him carefully as to not wake her.

Her hair was spread out on his chest, her soft hand was on his stomach, and her leg was draped over his. By all accounts, she was all over him.

And it felt so fucking good.

He'd never met anyone like Aelin before. Anyone so full of life, so hilariously open.

It was like she was constantly on fire, flitting from one place to the next with endless energy and jabs about him being too old and slow.

"What are you going?" she murmured, nails digging in slightly to keep him where he was.

"To get some water. Go back to sleep."

He leaned down and kissed her brow, and she sighed happily and rolled over. Like a total cliché, he watched her sleep for a moment, trying to get his feelings under control.

They'd been seeing each other for less than a year, but he couldn't imagine his life without her. He was in love with her, and if the way she acted and smiled around him was any indication, she loved him, too.

He ran a thumb over her cheekbone, smiling when she tilted her face into his touch.

He was whipped, and he didn't even care.

Rowan shook his head at himself, pulled on a pair of boxers, padded to the kitchen, and held a glass under the faucet.

Then frowned as it sputtered.

He figured he'd at least make himself useful, knowing damn well she would never agree to call the plumber when she could "figure out how to fix it herself on Youtube."

So he knelt down in her kitchen and opened the cabinet door, trying to see what the problem with the pipe was.

Except he never got that far.

His eyes got stuck on the piece of paper sticking out under a false piece of wood covering the back panel.

Knowing it was wrong to pry but somehow unable to stop himself, he tugged the paper loose.

Then fell backwards to his ass, heart hammering and brain spinning as he read it over and over again.

The list of names wasn't long, but all ten of the people on it were highly distinguished members of society.

And they were all dead.

He wouldn't know that, since the death of the last person on the list wasn't even public record yet, but he was the attorney working with the police to find the killer.

Why did she have this list?

And what did the numbers next to the names mean?

One way or another, he knew he had to find out. He also knew he couldn't ask her. He was in too deep, too unbiased to know whether or not she was lying.

He didn't trust himself with her, so he'd have to go the traditional route.

He took a picture of the paper quickly, tucking it back where he'd found it. He snuck back in the room to get dressed, leaving her a note he had to go to work.

He thought he was going to be sick as he left her apartment, a feeling suspiciously similar to dread coiling in his stomach.

There was only one way she could know that last name, only one explanation that made sense.

But he had to know for sure. Had to know if he'd been an idiot this past year; an idiot who'd spent almost every night sleeping next to the killer he'd been searching for.

So he started investigating his girlfriend.

Six days later, he found the security deposit boxes and the murder weapons inside, still covered in dried blood that would be matched to the victims. All with Aelin's prints on them.

Two days after that, the woman he'd thought was the love of his life was arrested on ten counts of murder.

Despite the tears she shed, despite the promises she made to him, despite the love she claimed to have for him, Rowan told the cops everything.

Even though he couldn't imagine her killing anyone.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it matters what I can prove."

That was the last thing he'd said to her, right as she was being dragged out of the court room and yelling at him to believe her.

The truth of the matter was that when it came down to it, he didn't trust her enough. The facts were against her, everyone on the jury had been against her, and in the end, Rowan was too.

~Present~

~Aelin~

Rowan shook his head, almost like he needed to clear it from the memory they'd obviously both been immersed in, and she smiled.

She hoped what happened all those years ago still haunted him, hoped he went to sleep at night thinking about her and the betrayal he'd served to her on a silver platter.

The first year of her sentence, she was so lost in emotion--in the rage and confusion and deep, deep hurt--that she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

He hadn't even bothered to ask her first. That's what had hurt the worst.

He'd seen that stupid, stupid list and had jumped to the first conclusion possible.

She knew it had looked bad, had looked like she was guilty, but she'd thought that if the worst happened, he'd at least ask her to explain before slapping the cuffs on her.

But he hadn't. She'd gone to prison, and his career had exploded into stardom from the success of the case.

"See, Rowan, when you refused to accept any other explanation other than the easy one, you made a mistake. Because I didn't kill those people."

He rolled his eyes. "Aelin-"

"And I'm not only going to prove it," she continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I'm going to ruin your precious little life while I do it. Just like you did mine."

She stood, put a hand on the steel table, and leaned over him.

"If you want it to stop, all you have to do is drop these bullshit murder charges and issue a public apology for locking me up in the first place."

He stood too, so close his loafers brushed the toe of her dusty, prison issued sneakers.

"That's never going to happen," he promised, voice uncompromising and angry.

Aelin smiled, having predicted his reaction down to the facial expression.

His pride, she'd decided, would be the first thing to go.

She reached around him to slide the pawn on the chess board forward, leaned in even further, and whispered, "Let the game begin, then."

~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[l-egionaire]

Owl House Fanfiction: I love The Found Family Trope!

Posted on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417493

Eda had gotten used to a lot of different ways of waking up after her getting her curse.

The first few times it happened, she'd unfortunately routinely woken up to find herself naked. (Titan, was she grateful when she'd finally found a spell that made her clothes change with her and didn't have to keep dumpster diving or "borrowing" clothes)

Once that was taken care of, her post transformation wake ups were slightly more comfortable, if predictable. She'd come too laying on the ground, her body's usual aches, pains, and stiffness seemingly doubled to the point where she could barely move. If she was in someone's house she'd likely be surrounded by overturned furniture and fixtures all covered in claw and bite marks. If she was lucky any people that might've been there would've already run and hid. If she wasn't….well, she knew a good amount of healing magic and potions.  No matter how much damage she might have caused, most people wouldn't turn down having their injuries taken care of.

And after that, things changed. Even if the person she was living with didn't kick her out, she could still see how they acted differently. They avoided eye contact with her, didn't stay in the same room with her for longer than two seconds, and she couldn't help but notice how they always seemed to lock their doors at night, nevermind whether she'd taken her elixir or not. Needless to say, when that happened she was gone before a week even passed. Someone being afraid of her or thinking she was a freak she could handle. But she preferred that to them tiptoeing around it and pretending to be okay with her when they were secretly scared. 

Considering all of that, waking up safely in her nest with a bottle of elixir in her mouth was a new experience.

She wasn't that shocked once she'd gotten the whole story. She'd never explained what her elixir did to King, and Luz thinking it was some special magic boosting potion sounded just like her. But what really surprised her were their reactions. 

After making sure Hooty was put back up and okay, they'd come by to check on her. Luz, having worried she might not be feeling well, had brought her a bowl of some strange human concoction called "chicken soup" that she'd gotten from a can in her junk collection. ("It's no magic potion but my mom. always made me chicken soup when I wasn't feeling well.) She'd also gotten her a person sized pillow that had the image of some male human character with spiky hair on it and with a little work slid it beneath Eda in her nest. The thing may have looked weird but it was comfy as heck and felt great for her sore back. Meanwhile King, still looking regretful about snatching her elixir, had fixed her a mug of apple blood as a peace offering.

While the mixture of alcohol and salty human bird water helped soothe some of her pain, Eda couldn't help but notice her apprentice and her housemate still standing off to the side of her nest. Both of them simply stood and watched as she ate and drank, staying oddly silent and staring at her as if she might disappear mid slurp.

It was almost a little unnerving. She hadn't expected either of them to be this quiet after discovering her curse. She figured Luz would've had her usual million questions about anything magical while King would be demanding to know why she hadn't told him before now. 

Then again, it wouldn't surprise her if they were still too in shock. After all, while she had never been able to witness it herself, she knew her cursed form could be pretty terrifying to see. One person she'd lived with had been so freaked out by it, he hadn't been able to make any noise except terrified squeaks for 3 days.

Plus, the way they found out was pretty sudden. Sure, King shouldn't have stolen her elixir but it wasn't like he knew what it was for or why she took it. In fact, a part of her hoped he'd never find out.

But the cat was off the staff now. She knew that the two of them must still be curious, otherwise they wouldn't still be there. So it was time to witch up and deal with it.

Eda drank the last few dregs of soup from her bowl and drained the rest of her apple blood for a little courage before turning to King and Luz.

"Alright you two. I know you probably want to know more about all this. So, let's have it."

Luz and King took a moment to look at each other, almost seeming to have a full conversation in two seconds before turning back to her.

"No thanks." Luz said.

"Yeah, we're good." King agreed.

Eda blinked in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"We don't need to know anymore." Luz explained. "This whole curse thing seems kind of personal and besides you already told us all the important parts. So we don't need to know anything else."

Eda stared at her in stunned silence. She looked to King and was even more surprised to see him nod in agreement.

To say this was not what she'd been expecting would be an understatement.  Where was the yelling at her for putting them in danger? The demanding answers? The blaming her for not telling them about her curse before all this? Heck, the two of them didn't even look that upset. They just still had those weirdly concerned looks on their faces. Maybe they just worried she'd still be mad about them stealing her elixir and were too scared to bring it up.

But that brought another issue to mind. And while she might have become pretty fond of those two, she knew it would only be a matter of time until it came up.

Ignoring the tight feeling in her chest, Eda said slowly. "Listen…..if you guys want to find somewhere else to stay, I understand."

They both became bug eyed.

"What?!" Luz cried.

"What are you talking about?!" King asked.

Eda looked away from them, doing everything she could to keep the wetness in her eyes from turning into full blown tears.

Suck it up. She thought. It's not like you haven't done this before.

"Luz, you could probably see if one of those Hexside kids might be willing to let you stay with them, and King I-."

"You're kicking us out?!" Luz yelled.

"No!" King scrambled into the nest, got onto his knees  and clasped his paws together. "Please Eda, don't!  I'll never be able to find anyone else willing to  let me live with them without paying! If this is about stealing the elixir, I'm sorry! I swear I won't steal anything you don't tell me to!" 

Eda frowned in confusion and turned back to them. "What? No. I mean, yes King, if you steal from me again I'll turn you into a tiny fur rug, but I just meant….you guys really don't want to move out?"

They both looked shocked at her question. "No." "Why would we?"

"Why would- how about  because I could have killed you two last night?" She felt bile begin to build in her throat and not the magical kind. "I could have eaten one of you like I did the snaggleback!"

"Oh come on Eda, it wasn't that-."

"Luz." Eda said, her voice hard. She didn't have it in her right now to deal with Luz sunshine attitude.

Luz must have noticed because she sighed and said. "Okay, look Eda. I'm not going to lie and say that today wasn't terrifying or that I wasn't afraid but….Eda, once I realized that the monster that was chasing after us was you? All I could think about was how I could help or what I could do to get you back. I didn't want to lose you."

Eda stared at her apprentice in complete shock. In her past talks with her living mates after they discovered her curse, they always talked about them . Their safety, their terror at her transformation, their discomfort at having Eda stay around after what happened. But Luz was thinking about her and whether she was okay.

It felt….weird. But in a good way. Kind of like a lot of things Luz did come to think of it.

Eda looked down to where King was still sitting in her nest. "And what about you King? You aren't freaked out by my little secret?"

King shrugged. "Eh, at first it was horrifying but after thinking about, its actually pretty cool. You're a demon just like me! Which technically makes you one of my subjects!"

Eda rolled her eyes. Typical King.

"And, since you are one of my subjects…."

"King, I swear to Titan, if you-."

".....than, that also means you fall under my protection." King finished. He walked over to Eda, climbed into her lap where he curled up into a ball. "If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll first have to go through me!"

Eda couldn't hide the amazement on her face as she gazed down at King. Then she felt something softly touch her shoulder. She looked over and saw Luz had placed a hand on her and was giving her a loving look.

"We're not going anywhere Eda. Us weirdos have to stick together, remember?"

Eda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Even after they both spent the night being terrorized by her and knew about her curse, they still insisted on sticking around.

They weren't going to leave her.

Luz suddenly frowned and looked at her worriedly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

It took Eda a moment to realize that there was a tear streaming down her face. She quickly wiped it away.

"Uh, no Luz, I just, uh, really loved that soup you brought me. There any chance there's some more?"

"I'll go dig through trash for another can!" Luz excitedly sprinted out the door.

Eda looked down at King. "Would my so-called "King" be willing to fix his new subject another apple blood?"

King stood up from her lap and stretched. "I suppose its what any humble ruler would do for his wounded subject." King took her mug and scrambled out of her nest and out the door.

Eda sighed fondly and layed back on her spiky hair human pillow, taking in the sight of the many light orbs that now dotted her ceiling thanks to her apprentice.

We're not going anywhere Eda.

If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll first have to go through me

Eda chuckled. "Thanks you two

[babyboyblasty]

Chapter 8:

Bakugou opened his door the next morning, his hair a bit squished on one side, to three excited idiots. "What?" he frowned, rubbing his eyes rid of sleep.

"HAPPY LAST DAY AS A GIRL, BAKUGOU!" was screamed in his face by Mina, Uraraka, and Hagakure. "We're going shopping today, okay?" Mina grinned. She /did/ tell him yesterday that she wanted to take him to the mall so if he thought she was just joking he had another thing coming.

Bakugou stared at their bright smiling faces (or two of them at least) for a good three seconds before he slammed the door in their faces and went back to continue getting ready for school. He was usually an early riser but ever since the quirk he didn't really feel like having his morning run or doing his usual morning routine. Being a girl was exhausting. He grabbed his comb and started brushing out his hair.

From the other side of Bakugou's door, Mina turned to Uraraka and Hagakure and smirked. "You know what this means, girls?" she asked and they both nodded. "Time to pull out the big guns."

...

"Why am I doing this again?" Kirishima asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck. He wasn't sure if their plan was the best.

"Becauseeeee~ You're the only one who can. Convince him to go please?" Mina pouted and the other two girls joined in in pleading with the redhead to do them the favor.

"But why me?" he asked, looking at the girls then at Bakugou's room. It was convenient to the girls how they didn't have to go far to find Kiri since their rooms were literally right next to each other. When they were going to knock on his door, said boy was already on his way back from the gym so they just grabbed him and told him their brilliant plan.

"You're his best friend, Kirishima-kun. If anyone can do it, it's you!" Hagakure cheered on.

"If you ask, I just know he'll agree. Bakugou can't say no to you" Uraraka jumped in with a grin. Kiri slightly smiled because well, not to brag, but it was kind of true. He prided himself in the relationship he managed to build with Bakugou over the years. Still, he didn't want to abuse their friendship and get Bakugou to do things he didn't want to do.

Mina could tell what he was thinking and put an arm over his shoulder to reassure him that wasn't the case. "We're inviting the whole class, Kiri. It'll be a class outing and we just want Bakugou to come. Ever since the quirk accident he just goes from class to the dorms. Let's take him out for a bit. Try asking and if he still doesn't want to go then we'll stop insisting. We promise."

Kirishima was a bit hesitant but he ended up agreeing. It'll be very unmanly for him not to at least give it a try to convince Bakugou when everyone else was going to go. He didn't want the blonde to feel left out and stay at the dorms alone. Worst case scenario is that he tells him no. If that happens then Kirishima will just stay behind too.

The girls waved him goodbye and Kirisima was left alone in front of Katsuki's door. He gave himself a little pep talk then knocked. He heard noise from the other side then the door opened to reveal an expectant looking Bakugou holding the door open with one hand and the other resting on his hip, an raised eyebrow as he looked up at Eijirou. He was wearing the girl uniform again, all except for the blazer, and Kirishima turned a light pink. Momo really did make everything to size. The clothes hugged his figure really well. "Hey bakubro. Can I come in?" Kirishima smiled and Bakugou stepped aside wordlessly to let him inside. Kirishima thanked him and stepped into the blonde's room. Bakugou closed the door behind him and leaned back against the door to look at Kirishima who was taking a seat on Bakugou's desk chair. The boy twiddled with his fingers, trying to figure out how to bring about the topic as casually as possible.

"What is it? I can tell you have something to say so hurry up and spit it out. I don't want to be late" Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest in impatience. All that did was push Katsuki's breasts up and since Bakugou never really bothered to button up his school shirt all the way, it showed a bit of the cup from the black bra he was wearing and Kirishima gulped, looking away. "I, erm, are you going to go to the mall with the rest of the class today?" he asked and cursed himself that he wasn't more smooth in asking.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. So that's what he wanted to ask? He kicked off the door with a scoff. "Fuck no. I interact with those losers enough as it is" Bakugou answered, going over to his closet to grab the blazer he had hung there the night prior. Kirishima knew Bakugou didn't mean it though. He knew that Katsuki secretly really cared about his classmates especially after three years of getting to know them, but he just didn't like admitting it. He didn't have a reputation as class 3-A's bad boy for nothing.

"Oh come on, Bakugou. It'll be no fun without you there too, man" Kirishima stood up and went behind Bakugou to wrap his arms around his waist like Mina did, resting his chin on top of his head affectionately. If Kirishima was a cat then he'd definitely be purring.

"Oi! Do you wanna die, hair for brains!?!" Bakugou growled and turned around in the boy's hold, reaching up to put a hand over Kirishima's face and let out an explosion. Kirishima, who had predicted he'd do that, hardened his face just in time and only laughed but let go of his Bakugou regardless. He couldn't help but feel fond of the angry look Katsuki was looking up at him with. When did angry Bakugou start looking so cute? If Eijirou was two or three inches taller than Bakugou when the other was a boy, as a girl Kirishima had to be at least a head taller now. Maybe even slightly more.

"Please Bakugou? Just for a bit and if you want to leave afterwards then I'll go with you. We can even go pick up a bowl of that spicy curry you like so much or something" Kirishima smiled cutely, pointy shark teeth showing. Bakugou looked like he was thinking it over and Kirishima already counted that as a win in itself. There was only one finishing move left. His secret weapon. Kirishima used his quirk to change his face into ragged pieces of rock to look like how it did when he was using unbreakable. Because of this, his vocal cords were also hardened and it's difficult to talk much in that form so in a deep, hoarser voice than his usual one, he got out a 'please' and that's what finally did it.

Bakugou felt like he was just struck through the heart and he turned an embarrassingly fast shade of red. He groaned and put his hands over his face to hide it from Kirishima. "Fine" he mumbled out quietly but Kirishima heard nonetheless and unhardened to hug Bakugou excitedly.

"Yay! You won't regret it I promise!" Kirishima was shining brighter than the sun as he held a flushed Bakugou against him. The shorter boy/girl let him this time since he was still too busy hiding away his face with his hands.

"I better not, shitty hair, or you're dead" Bakugou answered before adding in "And stop begging me when you’re like that, dumbass! I'll kill you!" Fuck how that form made Bakugou weak. Why does Kirishima have to look so cool?

...

Izuku was already in class for the day and he listened as Mina announced to the class that they should all go to the mall today since it was Saturday and they don't have school tomorrow. It had been a while since they went out as a class so Midoriya was excited to go to the mall together with everyone. Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought that way because almost everyone instantly agreed. They've been working so hard that it was a good idea to go out and distract themselves. Have some fun.

Mina's phone beeped and she pulled out her phone and read the text she received with a huge smile. It was Kirishima telling her Bakugou was going! "Ochako-chan! Bakubabe said he'll come with us!" she squealed and Uraraka cheered.

Izuku was surprised that Kacchan had accepted since it was rare he wanted to hang out with them but he was very happy he said yes. Maybe outside of a school setting he could try and get closer to Kacchan? They could maybe even get some alone time together. 'That's if Kirishima could leave Kacchan's side for at least a few seconds' Midoriya thought bitterly to himself with a frown before he snapped himself out of those thoughts. Why did he think that? Midoriya loved Kirishima-kun. He was so nice and a great friend so he doesn't know where that thought came from. Izuku couldn't help but feel a bit guilty afterwards.

Katsuki arrived to class a few seconds later with Kirishiman laughing beside him, the blonde wearing a scowl but that wasn't anything new. They both went to their assigned seats and Izuku blushed a bit when the blonde sat in the chair in front of him. The rest of his classmates were excitedly talking about what they wanted to buy and do at the mall and Iida was at the front trying to get them to settle down. Only when Aizawa walked in did everyone immediately shut up. Izuku could tell today was going to be a great day.

...

A series of knocks on his door made Bakugou groan. School was over and he had barely arrived at his dorm. He tossed his backpack on the chair of his desk and pulled open the door. "You've got to be shitting me."

There, facing him, were Kirishima and Uraraka holding up hair clips, a straightener, a brush, and a hairdryer. "Oh don't worry, this isn't everything. The rest of the girls will be here in a bit with the rest" Uraraka informed him.

Bakugou regretted all his life decisions.

_

BONUS:

Todoroki tapped his pencil on the desk. The night before he had a bit of trouble sleeping because he just couldn't seem to get Bakugou out of his head. He had tossed and turned almost the whole night so when Mina told them they should all go to the mall, Todoroki wasn't really feeling it. "Are you alright, Todoroki-kun?" Momo asked from beside him with a worried face.

"Yes. You don't need to worry, Yaoyorozu. I just didn't get much sleep last night" he explained and Momo nodded in understanding, continuing her talk with Jirou who was standing beside her desk. Uraraka bounced over to Todoroki with a grin.

"Todoroki-kun, are you going to the mall with us? Deku-kun and everyone else is on board so I wanted to ask" she smiled and Todoroki gave the girl a small smile.

"I don't think I will, Uraraka. I think I'll be using today as a chance to catch up on a bit of sleep" he politely declined. Uraraka pouted.

"Well, alright. If you're sure" Uraraka smiled at him in understanding. At the call of her name Uraraka turned around to see Mina excitedly waving her phone over her head a few desks away from them. "Bakubabe said he'll come with us!" Mina continued and Uraraka cheered because their plan had worked. She knew Kirishima could do it.

Uraraka turned back to Todoroki. "I hope you get some rest, Todoroki-ku-" she began but was cut off when the dual haired male interrupted with an "I'll go" with the most serious face she's ever seen. Uraraka beamed.

[word count: 2030]

[thejoshuaglenn-blog]

You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.

[somethingorotherrr]

BTS Couple Costumes

/Jin /

You scrolled leisurely through all the costumes on the website, waiting for something to catch your eye. Clowns, dinosaurs, grim reaper....bacon? What?

Sighing, you shut the laptop and leaned away from the coffee table and back into the sofa. You watched with a small smile on your face as Jin watched TV, looking so beautifully handsome as he rested his head against his arm in exhaustion. He'd worked very hard.

You'd thought it many times before, but he truly did look so much like a prince. Sometimes it really seemed like he'd just walked straight out of a fairytale.

Then it hit you. Prince Charming!

Quickly, with renewed excitement, you opened your computer again. You could already see it, Jin in a prince costume.

"What's this?" you smiled up at him as he came over to see what you were looking at. Your abrupt movements must have caught his attention.

"Your costume" you replied, suddenly a little unsure. What if he didn't like it?

He sat beside you, kissing your cheek gently. "Are you my Cinderella?"

/Yoongi /

You came into his studio all giggly, hiding your shopping bag behind your back.

Yoongi turned to glare at you suspiciously. "What"

"I got you something" you announced vaguely. He just raised his brows.

"Close your eyes" you demanded with a giant grin, coming to sit on his lap, a knee on either side of his thigh. He protectively rested his hands on the back of your hips so you wouldn't fall and humored you, closing his eyes.

Pleased, you brought the paper bag to rest between you two and dug in. Immediately feeling the fluffy cat ears, you carefully pulled them out one at a time. Before you clipped them in his hair, you took a second to admire his features. He truly was very handsome. Focusing back on the task at hand, you brushed a hand through his hair and clipped the first one in.

Once they were both securely attached to his hair, you leaned back to admire your work. His hands gripped you a tad tighter as he felt your shift in weight, making sure you wouldn't topple back.

A giggle escaped your lips as you held up your phone and snapped a picture. Bringing the picture back up, you held it out for him to see.

"Okay, you can open your eyes"

His eyes fluttered open and he tilted his head back so he could see the picture as you were holding the screen too close to his face. He didn't react as he met your gaze.

"Cat ears?" he deadpanned making you laugh and nod.

"For Halloween?" he guessed and you nodded again.

"I'm going to be your cat?" there was a tone of incredulousness in his voice.

You giggled. "I even got you a collar"

/Hoseok /

"I just got off the phone with Taehyung, he says we need to be Batman and Robin for Halloween, but he won't say why" Hoseok laughed, plopping down next to you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders.

"Dibs on Batman" you blurted, no hesitation.

"Ah-!" he let out in alarmed surprise.

"You'll make a fabulous Robin" you snickered, patting his cheek.

He rolled his eyes, pulling away to take his phone out of his back pocket.

You smirked and returned to what you were doing.

Not even a minute later, Hoseok shoved his phone in your face.

"I can't be Robin, I'm taller than you," he said as you looked at the photo he'd pulled up on his phone. It was a theoretical edit of Batman and Robin, Robin being glaringly shorter.

"I'll just wear really tall heels"

He grimaced at that. "No.

"Then I guess you'll just have to be a tall Robin" you shrugged, laughing. He didn't reapond.

"....Wanna hear a joke?" you asked after a few moments of him pouting.

He didn't answer, but it wasn't a no so you jumped right in.

"You know why Batman wears all black?"

"Because he wants to blend into the shadows" he replied as if it was obvious.

"Right, he doesn't want to get shot. Now, do you know why Robin wears color?"

Hoseok glared suspiciously at you.

"Because Batman doesn't want to get shot" you laughed, slapping your thigh.

He couldn't help his smile as he shook his head. "Stop hanging out with Jin-Hyung"

You laughed even harder because it was, indeed, a joke you had gotten from Jin.

/Namjoon /

You watched expectantly as Namjoon attempted to carry two massive boxes into his studio. He'd already shooed you away when you had tried to help and so all you could do was watch and wait for the inevitable catastrophe.

As predicted, something went wrong and the bottom of the bottom box ripped open and it's contents came spilling out. You cringed as a pile of books landed on his feet.

Coming to his rescue, you took the remaining box from his hands and set it down. It felt significantly lighter than books, so it was a fairly easy task.

"Are you okay?" You asked, cupping his cheeks. He nodded solemnly.

Smiling, you bent down to help him pick up the books.

Furrowing your brows, you picked up two of the books, examining the rest as well.

"Why do you have so many Harry Potter books?" you giggled.

"Hey, it's a really good series"

Smiling with an idea, you looked at him. "Should we be wizards for Halloween?"

Clearly enjoying the idea, he grinned excitedly. "We could even carve our own wands!"

You pictured Namjoon with a carving knife and immediately shook your head. "No."

/Jimin /

You'd always wanted to be a Greek God for Halloween, but in the past it had always seemed too cheesy. Looking at Jimin run his hands through his hair as he focused on something on his laptop, it suddenly made sense. If there ever were gods, you were sure Jimin was one in a past life.

Feeling your gaze, he glanced up at you and gave you an alluring smirk.

Yes. Definitely a god. Now just to pick one...Aphrodite, maybe? You shook your head. No, he might not like that. What about Zeus? Yes, Zeus fit him well.

"What are you thinking?" he suddenly asked.

"Just trying to figure out which Greek God you look like"

He laughed, "Aphrodite, of course"

/Taehyung /

"Oh, I know! Vampires!" He cheered abruptly, making you jump.

"I'm sorry, what?" As usual, he was on a completely different page than the rest of the world.

"For Halloween!" he nodded enthusiastically.

You stared at him for a moment, imagining him as a Vampire. He would undoubtedly stay in character the whole night, keeping up an alluring 'Black Swan" vibe. Almost instantly, you wanted to agree...until you pictured yourself beside him, that is. There was no way your generally uncoordinated ass would allow you to keep up with his sensuality.

"....How about the Joker and Harley?" you suggested shyly instead.

Tae's eyes trailed you up and down, imagining you in a Harley Quinn costume. Smirking, he nodded. "Okay."

/Jungkook /

You and Jungkook walked into the Halloween party in your matching 007 costumes. He wore a sleek black suit and you wore a wine red, satin dress. He was James Bond and you were the woman he would inevitably save.

"You look very handsome" You whispered into his ear.

It was true, Jungkook embodied the James Bond persona. Usually, when he was surrounded by friends he was goofy and hyper, but not tonight. No, tonight he was cool and graceful — borderline mysterious.

This was a bad idea. You thought as you noticed all the women appreciatively eyeing him up and down.

Possesively, you gripped his bicep and leaned into his side.

He smirked knowingly down at you.

"And you look absolutely stunning"

[dyker-farmer]

Ok this was supposed to be a quick draw and a description to go with, that blew into a full chapter and now it's also on Ao3 SO happy reading ig idk

I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.

Set post-8 hearts event, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.

Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.

[[MORE]]

Take that can away if you can.

Gulp it down. Chapter 1/2/3/4

There's a few to-know to survive life in society, in the valley; there's no good way to comment on the age nor weight of both resident housewives, you can't say no to Evelyn's homemade cookies- and why would you, you fool-, you do not fight at the Saloon or you'll get no cheese anymore on your pizza and only sparkling water for drinks, and-

And you don't mess with Shane's alcohol related ritual.

Except I did, that night, because you do that, when your two-years long friendship with the guy taught you better than letting his impulses overcome yours, when your buddy is trying to recover from teenage long-lasting into early adulthood, trauma-enhanced heavy addiction, and you know, you know tomorrow he'll feel like absolute shit and question his right to therapy the moment he'll stop his pounding skull from splitting. Wonders what a three-dosage paracetamol can do. 

At least he doesn't drink it out anymore.

So yeah, when you're in my shoes, you get that Joja store-bought crap out of Shane's hand, and you brace yourself for the incoming lash out.

The first fractions of seconds are always those to look closely into most. It's only a glimpse, but before the scowl slips on like a well-worn boxing glove ready to strike, there is always this open page I learned I needed to decipher as quick as I could.

Tonight, it's heartbreaking. When I peck his forehead- doting big sibling habits die hard, even when you're actually the youngest of the pair- the eyes I catch looking at me are so confused and bare of any emotion, except for the sorrow that goes beer-soaked tears, it pangs. I get used to the breakdowns, working in the fields I do when I'm off the farm's, but it's not the same when it's a friend.

When I straighten back, offensive beverage in hand, it's already gone in a flinch, away from the empty space behind the chair and onto the table, as he snarls.

"Wha- giv'me back- 's mine!" I don't know how much he drunk before he met up with me, but from the slurring, it's a Lot. A season and a half into sobriety. That's harsh.

I ignore him and walk behind him, pondering where to put the beer for now.

"Y-you can't just do that! It's my booze I got with m'money, not some- who d'you think you are?-" He sputters indignantly, angry tears fewer than the sad ones but still there. He tries to turn around and grab behind his back, but the wild movement is way off and only gets the chair to nearly topples down. I rush in time to stabilize it, and profit off the moment to set a strong hand on his shoulder.

"I can just do that, 'cus it's my house I got with my money, and I think I'm your pal who knows when you've had enough. Dude, I trust you to be an adult, but minutes before, you were already so torched I had to keep your neck upright so you didn't faceplant into the table, and you nearly just kissed my floor good evening. Not to mention you clung to my arms the whole way from the little entry stairs to the kitchen because, quoting, 'If I don't I'll fall in the hole and won't get up'."

I turn to the fridge again, going to open it, before I think better of it. Likely enough, we'll both forget it was there in the first place, it'll stink up my fridge- it's Joja's- and it'll be money out of Shane's pocket for nothing. I set it on the counter, with the rest of the pack. He'll put it to cool down when he's back to Marnie's. Or he won't, probably. 

That's not a worry for now.

When I caught up with him, it was a few feet below my doorstep; he'd probably slipped up trying to climb the three steps up to it, and settled for it. He was nursing that same can, muttering to himself, head down, curled up on himself. Except for that leg sticked out, he probably hurt it when he fell, I'll have to look at that and work on it if it's too swollen. Hopefully that'll spare us from a visit to Harvey's.

Bad memories. Not mine, and it's warm and not raining outside, but. Déjà-vu.

Anyways, he looked the picture of "help I've fallen and I can't get up- and even if I can I won't because Fuck You", and it's been a hassle to have him cooperate. But when I asked if he wanted to leave, he shook his head with a fervor no somnolent drunk should have. That resulted in a lovely streak of vomit down the wall right next to the door. That's also for later. If Eryza doesn't lap it up. Ew. This cat's never predictable.

Now, he's staring at his hands, sitting at my table, contemplating something too far down for me to see- or maybe just zoning out with a sleeping brain. Then he mumbles. "Sorry."

I get back to the table and sit at arm's length across of him. "Nah, 's okay. I don't mind being a helping hand or touchy-feely, must be the frog-eater in me. Not for the helping part." I'd chuckle but my quip falls on deaf ears.

I go to put my hand over his. When he doesn't blink at it, I try and shake a reply out of him, gently. He startles and hawkeyes our joined fingers. When he's finally looking at me, I raise a single eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, but when he pulls back his arm, I let him. We both straighten up, and it's hard to keep up the eye contact.

"So…" There's a heavy air on us. Suddenly, like the last year didn't happen, we're sitting a stride away of each other, and yet it feels like he's all the way back to the forest, looking down at waves.

"Do you want me to do something?" I bend myself a little closer to him, not moving otherwise.

He puts his head in his hands, shivering. Can't tell if it's the AC or his system kicking the alcohol out, or itself, in stress. I think I hear something, but it might as just be his shuddering breath.

"Shane" I insist, voice level, not pressing. "I need words. I want to help, I truly don't mind, but I need words to know what to do." He's never shown signs of going nonverbal before. If he does, I'll improvise. Until then… I need words.

Time ticks slowly as we wait. Then, with great effort and deep fatigue, he drags his palms up from under his nose to his temple, spreading some snot and wet tears across his face from his scrunched shut eyes. Lips trembling but finally showing, that attempt to let out a sound that's not too garbled. He coughs, sniffles a bit, breathe in again, sounding like a sick dog, and blows through gritted teeth before his jaws go slack. Eyes still closed, he whispers, and I have to lower myself some more toward his crouched form to catch it.

"Can I get something to drink…?" His voice is hoarse.

The demand could be comical, if we were into sour humor. And we usually are. But right now, we're not finding the joke in the lines. I stand silently, and as I walk to the fridge again, I let my hand brush his shoulder- same spot as before.

I take a minute to choose, look into the pantry. When I'm back at the table with my items of choice, he's still sitting there, his cheek is cushioned on his arms, face hidden from view. His shoulder, except for the occasional tremor, rise and fall in rythm with his snores. Breaks my heart to interrupt that, but not really. Hangovers are mean bitches with the sharpest nail art on the blackest of boards.

"Psst, dude. C'mon." I rustle his hair backward. He hates when I do that, says it tickles, and it makes him sneeze. So I obligatory do it once a day if I can. Let's say today's my late quota for the last four days I haven't seen him.

He gruffly tells me to kindly refrain from such pleasantries, and raise bleary eyes back up at the table. I can also guess he tried to bat a hand at me, but his coordination is off and he slaps himself lightly on the ear. Then he glares bewildered at his hand for a few seconds, obviously insulted. I profit of this moment to grab a small basin from under the sink, on second thought.

When he brings his attention back to me, I'm sitting again. Between us, a jug of fresh milk from this morning, a small sack of peppers, and a juice carafe sit aside a green glass bottle. There's also some bread, mostly for me to munch on. Because, hmmm dough. He squints at it all, especially at the bottle. Probably trying to read the label.

"Yeah no, didn't get you one of my best wine, not sorry."

"Hot pepper… juice?" He looks at the actual peppers next to it. "With actual peppers?" And then I get the squint too.

"Hmph, I know you like your elongated hell tomatoes, man, what can i say."

At that, a feeble snort.

I decide that it is the highlight victory of my soirée.

"Welp, have at it." I gesture to the half-liter liquor glass right by his left.

He fumbles with the drinks and some splashes around, but I lay back on my chair, arms crossed, letting him do his thing. While I don't hold back from growing downright doting on him when I got to- or even when I don't- I don't see how more devotion right now would be not smothering. He can break my fancy glass cups if he wants and spill my milk, so long he doesn't cut himself or cry over it.

Now, you could be thinking that plain water would have done the trick just fine, if not better, in rehydrating him. Here's the thing, though; going from booze to tasteless liquid, for Shane, that's a sure way to puking his heart out. And I'd rather not have us deal with an acid bile throat burn on top of near alcohol poisoning. Sorry to not spare you the squeamish details, but his oesophagus is pretty sensitive ever since that stomach pumping back at the clinic. Hot fiery hell fruits he can do just fine, with relative moderation and hydratation- hence the milk and juice- but liquor bursting its way back from his guts? Nuh uh. 

It had taken lots of coaxing, but he'd explained the plain tastes, or lackthereof, were very hard for him to deal with, especially when contrasting with strong ones like beers and whiskeys. I'd shackle it to gustative hypostimulation, but I don't know enough about him that way to say. He'd said sparkling water was a good compromise.

But I don't have sparkling water, because I do not like suffering.

I might buy a pack for when he visits though.

And I do know a handful about him already. Shackle that to perceptiveness and a stubborn streak on top of a year and so long camaraderie.

And having a certain uncontrollable fear of failing to act quick the next time coped with by accumulating information and patterns compulsively.

I shake my head to focus on the present again. He's switched from juices to soaking bread in milk to eat it small portion after small portion. He pauses in mid-bite when he catches me staring. He's still hunched on himself and red-faced and a tad bloated. His cheeks are drying and he's blown his nose. I smile calmly. Worst of the storm passed, unless I screw up and blow it.

"Ywou wan' chom'?" He offers a dripping piece of bread. In moments like this, when he's sobering but not quite, the resemblance with Jas are unmistakable. The glint in his reddened eyes that open wide, and his blank-but-not-quite wondering expression, it's all here to paint a scrutinizing but vulnerable picture of tired but bright minds.

"Nah thanks. You done with that milk?"

"...Sure." He eyes it, wary. He knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. I take the drink off the table, and his gaze follows my movement until I bring it to my lips.

He frowns. A silent warning. 

And as I lock onto him with a dead stare, not blinking a millisecond, I down the rest of the 2 liters jug in three, five gulps. I even take the time to lick my new mustache away, and close my mouth with a click of my tongue.

His expression is the macabre marriage of beffudled horror and pure affliction, disgust if you will. The face of someone who doesn't hate milk, but has grown out of it enough to not be able to live off the stuff like the brave souls I'm apart of. And probably with reason, as I actually can't, like most 20+ years old, digest the liquid in large amount. But I smile like a smug cat, perfectly content.

Cats really can't digest milk once adults, it's all social mythos.

We silently judge and fuck with each other like that for a while more, as more time passes, until the room's elephant gets it all humid with its prancing around. Enough that tears and nervous sweats start again, for no apparent reasons but the residual anxiety from the whole chain of events that led to this.

"I think we should talk about this."

--- to be continued.

[starsinshadows]

firelightfables​:

They had different definitions of subtle, perhaps, but despite that Steve had to admit he liked the ostentatious nature Tony had about him. Call him old fashioned, but everything Tony didn’t wasn’t just that - outdated. The futurist might have been a name the papers gave to him but it was a title that fit Tony to a T. And that was the whole point of being an Avenger, wasn’t it? To look to the future.

“Good thing I lived through the 40s then. I’d hate to be speaking out of turn.” He grinned behind his tea, letting Tony mutter and muse over the color. Whatever the man picked, he was sure it would be worn with style and flare. Who was he to deny joy in that?

“Would be if it were time to sleep,” he mused demurely. “I suppose that’s a benefit of the serum. It doesn’t take much for me to feel rested.” A shrug. It wasn’t something he discussed often, nor was it really important. There were certainly things he almost missed about sleeping as long as others; namely sharing the bed. But that was here nor there and it didn’t matter in the end. “Nice try though.”

At the comment on dating again he sighed. “Last time I considered it, SHIELD fell. Bad timing, but the world hasn’t stopped has it? There aren’t many who can understand how this job is unforgiving to others close to it.” The world always called at the worst time; he’d learned that by now. And couldn’t ask someone outside of the life to ever understand; that wasn’t fair to them.

A bop of his shoulders followed. “We’re both retired, but one of us has doctor’s orders to rest and the other doesn’t.” An eyebrow raised. “I’m not here to lecture you though. I trust you to make your own choices.” Mostly. “I’m just checking in, I guess. Call it encouragement to get back to your own hobbies that aren’t just work.”

He grinned a bit, eyes sparkling. “Maybe we need to make you a book?”

     They had very different definitions of 'subtle', namely that Tony didn't think either of them did it very well and Steve thought that Steve was capable of it. Of course, Tony didn't know everything going on in that pretty blond head, regardless of how well he thought he could predict the former Captain America's moves, or he wouldn't have still been thinking about the Brioni, trying to pinpoint when Steve had seen him in it and what the significance of that mention was.      It hadn't been anything to do with the Sokovia Accords - he distinctly remembered the Tom Ford and how underdressed he'd felt, the Kiton had been the night of the party at the Avengers Tower before Ultron had messed up his living room, but the Brioni? "Is that so? How many hours a night do you sleep? Like, optimally, I don't mean the cat naps you take during down time when you think nobody's noticed you've been up for three days." Considering how hard he was being called out, Steve had earned that one. Let no one try to say that Tony couldn't hold onto something he'd noticed for years. "Not here to lecture, and a good thing, considering how fast you were up and back to fighting after that mess in DC. How many bullets did you take on top of the beating Barnes dished out? Oh, and the helicarriers literally falling into the river on you. Can't forget those," he offered, tapping his forehead and then giving a wave of his hand like he'd actually been forgetful about it. The difference was that Steve had that super serum edge, which Tony obviously didn't, but he only slowed down so much. He also really didn't want to address his sleeping issues. To date, he'd really only talked to a few people about that, and though Steve was dangerously close to being one of those trusted few, he still faltered over any kind of sense of vulnerability. He may have faltered over Steve Rogers saying he trusted him, which frankly, had seemed like it might have been impossible after both Ultron and the Accords. They'd come a long, long way since they'd met, not all of it good, but his face showed it for a moment before he turned back to the display. "Me? A book? Can't imagine what you, of all people, would put in there. Don't forget, work is one of my hobbies - it's why I'm so good at it."