#pinecone is back!

[lucky-clover-gazette]

gaylight savings

vio x shadow | pure comfort | 2252 words

“Part of the Hylian condition is change,” Vio says, tenderly tucking hair behind Shadow’s ear. “There are good parts about the winter months, I promise you.” 

“Like what?” 

“Well I happen to find it very cozy, bundling up when it’s cold outside. Reading, especially with a cat on my chest or you in my arms.”

read it on ao3 or under the cut:

Shadow cannot believe it’s pitch-black outside at 4:00 PM. 

Back in the day, he would have relished this seasonal change, as he had only been able to go outside comfortably in the dark. But now, half a year after returning from the void, he is completely human—and really, really annoyed. 

“I’m home,” he calls into the cottage, thankful to feel the fireplace’s warmth. He strips off Vio’s peacoat, kicks off his own heavy boots, and pads his way into the heart of their home.

Vio sits in the den reading a book as usual, glancing up at Shadow with a knowing smile. Their cat Pinecone, a tripod tortie who they rescued about a month ago, wakes from her deep slumber on Vio’s chest. She hops down to greet Shadow, rubbing against his legs and accepting his pets. She sits on the floor beside him, waiting loyally for his next move.

“Did you wear my coat to the market?” Vio teases Shadow from the couch. 

“Sounds like you already know the answer to that question.” 

“Yeah, but I thought you’d deny it.” Vio places his book aside and shifts his body to make room. “Get over here.” 

Shadow plops down beside him and crosses his arms over his chest. He hates when he gets like this, stupidly annoyed for a reason he can’t even name. He’s not even genuinely upset—it’s a toothless and aimless sort of displeasure. 

Vio releases a small laugh beside him. “What?” Shadow asks sharply, meeting his deep purple eyes. 

“You’re just… pouting,” Vio says, motioning to Shadow’s entire posture. Shadow uncrosses his arms. “No, it’s cute, don’t—” 

“Why is it dark right now?” Shadow asks abruptly, glancing at Vio’s book. “That must be something you know.” 

Vio considers the question, opening his arms for Shadow in the meantime. Shadow allows himself to be embraced with an unnecessarily dramatic sigh. Pinecone hops up and tucks herself in Shadow’s lap, completing their Matroyoshka of domestic bliss. 

“So we’re on a planet right now,” Vio begins, and Shadow can already feel his frustration melting away. It’s hard for him to be truly annoyed when he’s laying in his partner’s arms. “The planet orbits around a sun, you know, in space. That’s what makes it daytime. Following me?”

It could all be a fairy tale, a conspiracy created by the historians of Hyrule past, but Shadow nods anyway. It’s just as reasonable as anything he’d guess—and besides, Vio usually knows what he’s talking about with this kind of stuff.

“So we’re in the Northern Hemisphere of the planet, which tilts towards the sun in the summer months—that is, the majority of the time we’ve spent here together. But in the winter months, which we’re just entering now, the Northern Hemisphere faces away from the sun. This results in fewer hours of sunshine and shorter days.”

“It happened so fast, though,” Shadow says, covering up a huge yawn. “I feel like yesterday the sun was setting at 5:00, or even later.” 

Something occurs to Vio. “Oh!” he exclaims, “of course!” 

“What is it, genius?” 

“There’s this thing called daylight savings, where everyone turns back their clocks an hour when the seasons start to turn. It must have just happened. I can’t believe I didn’t notice.” 

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Shadow asks, about to get pouty again but not wanting to give Vio the satisfaction. 

“I think it was originally meant to give farmers more early-morning light,” Vio says, “but at this point, it’s just something people do. You should ask Zelda next time we see her.” 

“This is her decree?” 

“I guess, or at least she upholds it. I must say, I’m a little worried that it’s bothering you so much. It’s only an hour.” 

Shadow blows his bangs out of his face. “I’m fiiiiiine,” he groans, “it’s just annoying. And stupid. And it makes me feel really tired, like I need an hour-long nap just to get on with the rest of my evening.” 

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with naps.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t need them before.” 

“Part of the Hylian condition is change,” Vio says, tenderly tucking hair behind Shadow’s ear. “There are good parts about the winter months, I promise you.” 

“Like what?” 

“Well I happen to find it very cozy, bundling up when it’s cold outside. Reading, especially with a cat on my chest or you in my arms.”

It gives Shadow chills, to hear Vio say it so plainly. He loves Shadow, and Shadow loves him. He looks at Vio’s face and sees uncertainty—he must have surprised himself with the admission. As long as Shadow lives, he is determined to show Vio how much he is loved. He leans up for a kiss on the lips and it’s obviously the right choice. Vio pulls him in closer by the hair—gently, of course—and it’s like they’re the only ones in the universe when they’re together like this. 

Pinecone jumps off Shadow’s lap and they both begin to laugh. Shadow and Vio are at it again with the forehead bonk, nuzzling against each other as they watch Pinecone curl up by the fire. 

Vio reaches for the blanket Red had knitted them a few weeks back and drapes it over them both, further demonstrating the benefits of a chilly winter night. And Shadow has to admit… it’s not a bad feeling at all. 

“Did you find the tea you wanted at the market?” Vio asks, idly playing with Shadow’s hands.

Shadow snorts. “Yeah, but I left it in your jacket pocket.”

“That’s always nice in the cold too. A warm beverage, especially one made by an expert such as yourself…” 

“Sure,” Shadow says, stiffening slightly, “but the cold’s not really the problem.”

“It isn’t?” 

“It’s… the darkness.” 

And as soon as the words leave Shadow’s mouth, he knows the real reason this whole daylight savings situation bothers him. “Look at me,” he says, “used to be scared of the light, and now I’m scared of the dark.” 

Vio cocks his head. “Can you elaborate? I mean, I can guess what you mean, but I want to really understand it.” 

Fuck, Shadow loves him so much. 

“I don’t do well with reminders of the Dark World,” Shadow says slowly, as though confirming the truth of each word as it leaves his lips. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that.” 

Vio nods. 

“When I broke the mirror I ended up there again, but it was… different. I’ve always described it as a void. In the Dark World, there’s tangible darkness in the absence of light—nature, people, sounds, smells, you get it. But in the void, where I ended up, there’s just… nothing at all. No darkness, no light, just me. I would have been stuck there forever if you hadn’t pulled me out.” 

“But you’ve enjoyed the nighttime since coming back,” Vio counters, analytical rather than argumentative. “What’s the difference now?” 

“There’s something about these early sunsets, and the cold combined with the darkness, that just reminds me of the void. Nighttime in summer is still warm, and loud with animals, but the woods during my walk home were nearly silent. I’m not used to them being like that.” 

“That makes a lot of sense, and I can see how it’s jarring.”

“I’m fine,” Shadow half-heartedly insists, “but… yeah. I guess the idea of staring down the next six months dealing with this whole winter situation isn’t the most appealing to me.” 

“I know how much you love nature,” Vio says, “how much you’ve come to appreciate it. It must be hard seeing all the plants die, and the animals going into hibernation. Of course you know they’ll come back, you’re not stupid, but… I can see how it’s upsetting.” 

Shadow rolls his eyes. “Now you’re just making me sound sentimental.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, but I still have some pride to maintain.”

“You should be proud,” Vio says, disentangling his hands so he can cup Shadow’s face. As always Shadow melts, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “You’ve had a busy six months.” 

And that much is true—since his resurrection, Shadow has worked tirelessly to learn about the world, his friends, and even himself. He’s done so much to make amends for his various crimes against Hyrule and its people. He’s fallen in love with nature, and cooking, and his little life with Vio and Pinecone in their cottage full of stolen furniture and evil root beer. 

What if, one day, it all disappeared? And nothing took its place? 

“Thank you,” Shadow says, kissing the side of Vio’s hand. 

“For what?” 

“All of it.” 

Smoke billows from the chimney of their cottage, mixing with a cold breeze passing through the woods. The sky is overcast and darker than seems possible for this world of light. Crows call out as they pass overhead, foxes burrow in their dens, and the fuzzy creatures of the forest evaluate their hoards of nuts and berries. 

There’s a window in the den of their cottage, with a chair specifically for Pinecone placed beneath it. Like Shadow, she will be disappointed by the disappearance of most birds for the next several months. Unlike Shadow, she is unburdened by the knowledge of space and time. Nature’s many surprises are innate to her. 

There are some upsides, though, to surprises. 

“Holy shit, Vio,” Shadow says, eyes locked on the window. “Something’s happening out there.” 

Vio looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Yeah, Shadow, it’s snow.” 

“Snow?’ Shadow asks, tossing off the blanket and leaving Vio’s lap. 

“Hey, wait—” 

Shadow runs to the front door, not even bothering to grab a jacket, and steps out into the woods. Something is falling from the sky—kind of like rain, but pure white and almost flaky, reminding him of ash in the volcano’s air. He reaches out and a piece of it lands on his hand. On closer inspection, Shadow is shocked by its beautiful intricacy, and then just like that it’s gone, melted by the warmth of his skin. 

“You’ve never seen snow?” Vio asks, all bundled up in his peacoat. He offers Shadow his own jacket, which Shadow sheepishly accepts and shrugs on. 

“Never,” Shadow says, watching his own breath leave his mouth. It’s like magic. He exhales to see it again, and Vio chuckles. 

“When the air temperature gets below freezing, precipitation freezes too,” Vio tells Shadow. “That’s how we get snow, or hail, or slush.” 

“This is snow, right?” Shadow asks, eyes large. “I love it.” 

“It is. It’s perfect, too. Great texture, really lucky for the first snowfall of the season.” 

Vio motions to the sheer white blanket forming on the path to their front door. It looks like powdered sugar, and Shadow wants to lick it very badly, but he suspects that would be a painful mistake. “By tomorrow there could be inches of it,” Vio continues. “We can have snowball fights, make sculptures, combine it with maple syrup to make candy…” 

Shadow looks at Vio, watches the impossibly delicate crystals adorning his eyelashes, redness spreading on his nose and cheeks, his warm breath materializing in the freezing air… and despite the temperature, his heart melts. 

“I love it,” Shadow says, “the snow, the winter, you. I would have never imagined I could feel this way, especially back when I…”

Vio takes his hand and squeezes it. “You’re here now.”

Shadow can’t put into words the intensity of his feelings, brought about by this truly mundane act of nature. Maybe he doesn’t have to. Maybe the simple sight of snow in the winter sky, like flecks of light in an endless black void, says enough. 

Vio places something in Shadow’s hand—the bag of tea leaves from the market. It’s an unspoken request that he is more than happy to fulfill.

But first…

“You should go back inside,” Shadow tells Vio. “Warm up the kettle, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m just going to… watch, for a minute.” 

“Take all the time you need,” Vio says, planting a quick kiss on Shadow’s equally red nose. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Eyes locked on the sky, Shadow hears Vio’s footsteps fade and the door close behind him. Left alone in the winter night, he relishes the absence of noise. The snow seems to act as a heavy blanket, silencing the world’s everlasting cacophony.

Shadow has felt wonder in every season he’s experienced so far, relishing the fresh green of springtime, deep aqua of ocean waves, and bright red fall foliage. But winter, he knows now, is his favorite of them all. 

Most superficial observers would say the winter sky is black and the snow is white, that the season is colorless and empty like the void. But if Shadow looks, really looks, imagines the palette of a painter hoping to capture the beauty of this moment, he begins to see it all: the varying tones of the cloudy sky, crystalline snowflakes refracting microscopic hues, tiny flowers peeking out from the forest brush… 

Winter is a color he’d know anywhere. It is vibrant in its silence, and to Shadow it feels just like home. It’s a painter’s palette, covered with lilac and lavender and indigo and, yes, violet. It promises peace, and wonder, and rebirth on the horizon. Shadow wants to experience it all, every single thing Vio praised about the season, over and over again. 

And it’s only 4:30 PM. 

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

ogh my head hurt. need to shove my face into Foul Legacy's fluff and just snuggle the entire night please and thank you.

[kumidark]

my favorite dialogues from when you turn down a cookie's order^^

[staygoldfics]

They See Right Through Me

Summary: Darry's only sixteen when his parents die, and after two years in the foster care system he makes it his goal in life to bring both of his brother's home. But what happens when Sodapop has spent his time in the system on the west side? And what happens when Ponyboy spent his time in the system in New York?

Chapter Two: You're Lost and I'm Scared

Warnings: Food mention, lightly mentioned abuse. If I forgot anything please let me know.

You can also find this on AO3

Chapter One

Taglist

“Are we gonna go inside or?” Ponyboy asks, awkwardly nodding towards the door.

“Yeah- yeah sure.” Darry places a hand on Soda’s back, guiding him gently to the door, Soda swallows as the trash bag crinkles under Darry’s fist, he feels like every nerve in his body is on fire, like something is horribly horribly wrong.

They all step into the house, Ponyboy entering last, the door shuts quietly behind them. Soda watches as Pony’s eyes roam over their small living room, taking everything in as though the space is new to him, Soda wonders how much Pony remembers of their childhood home. Was it so different now? Without their parents, without their friends, the house feels empty. Soda had thought it would finally feel full with Ponyboy home. Soda watches as those stormy gray eyes land on a neatly hung picture of their family from years ago, their parents standing on either side of the three brothers, all of them laughing. When Ponyboy takes a deep breath and then quickly looks away Soda wonders if they should take the picture down, none of them can stomach to look at it these days. Pony’s eyes haven't become any softer, if anything he looks more upset, anger holds the place where sadness belongs, and Soda wishes he knew why. Soda wishes he could read his baby brother's mind the way he used to when they were little.

“Are you hungry?” Darry questions, having paused in the hallway between their bedrooms and the kitchen, he’s still holding that stupid trash bag, Soda hates it.

Ponyboy’s cold eyes turn to their oldest brother but he doesn't respond, he simply shrugs and makes his way further into the house. “Where am I sleepin?”

“Our old room” Soda says, trying his best to smile. “Darry is gonna move into mom and dad's room eventually. I'll take his room and then you can have our room. But until then we'll be fine bunking together like we used to, right?”

“I guess.” Ponyboy grumbles. “Can I?” He hesitates, moving closer to their bedroom.

“Yeah! Yeah of course honey! This is your home, you can-” Soda doesn't get to finish the sentence before Ponyboy is shutting their bedroom door in his face.

The door doesn’t slam but it’s enough to send Soda over the edge, it’s all so overwhelming, the quiet anger, the silence, the crushing disappointment, the way the trash bag crinkles as Darry sets it on the ground next to the door, the shut door. Soda tries to hold back his tears, really he does, but the second Darry pulls him into a too tight hug Soda can’t help but begin to cry.

“I know Pepsi-Cola. I know.” Darry whispers, keeping his arms wrapped around Soda as he gently guides his brother into the kitchen, nudging Soda into a seat at their small dining room table. Darry’s fingers slide over the old wood of the table, anxious and searching for something to hold onto. “Breathe Soda.”

“He’s- Darry he looks so- so” Soda hiccups softly, shoving his hands into his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears. “I thought- he didn’t even- lord, I couldn’t even hug him- those bruises-”

“He’s home, a few more weeks and he’ll be home for good. Let's focus on that for now, okay? I need you to stay strong little buddy.”

It’s not an option, not a request. Sodapop must stay strong, has to hold it together. They all do or they put everything, all of Darry’s hard work these past few years, at risk. So, despite the tornado of emotions tearing Sodapop apart he nods, and does what he has to in order to calm himself down while Darry gets started on dinner. Soda turns on the tv, unable to take anymore silence and then helps Darry cook. They don’t say anything, but Darry’s tense the entre time the weight of the world holding him down, Soda wishes he could do something to take some of the burden. When the food is ready Soda shuts off the tv and gently knocks on his bedroom door, flinching when the door swings open almost immediately. Ponyboy looks the same as he did an hour ago except for the red around his eyes, had he been crying? Soda's heart breaks at the thought of his baby brother hiding in their room to cry alone, as a kid he used to come running to Soda when he was upset.

“Darry made stew if you're hungry.” Soda steps back as Ponyboy silently steps out of the room and into the kitchen, he follows silently behind. The overbearing silence is back, he can't remember a time when the house was this quiet. Even after their parents died there hadn't been a quiet moment, there was always noise. Crying, screaming, apologies from people he knew and people he didn’t, promises of prayers for a family no one was willing to help. Whispered promises of a better future Soda wasn’t sure Darry would ever be able to fulfill.

In a way Sodapop can't explain it feels as though there's a complete stranger sitting at their dining room table. Of course, things change, people change, but Soda likes to think he hasn't changed that much in the last three years. Steve is still his best friend; he still hates school and loves going to drag races. He's still himself even if he's changed, even though he spent two years on the West side. He could say the same about Darry, despite how tired his big brother is these days he's still Darry. But Ponyboy… He's a complete stranger. Everything about him is new, his clothes, his hair. God even his voice is completely different. Ponyboy had been such a bright, kind, loving kid. He cried once when he accidentally stepped on a bug, Steve had teased the poor kid for weeks. Now though Pony looks angry, horribly angry, he looks like he couldn't care less that he's finally seeing his brothers again after three years of being separated. He looks a hell of a lot like the boys in the tougher gangs, deep on the East side. The anger, the silence, it’s all Soda can think about, it breaks his heart.

“I took the weekend off of work.” Darry says suddenly, Soda guesses he's gotten sick of the silence too, tired of watching Ponyboy push the same piece of broccoli around on his plate. “I thought we could all do something together.”

“The gang is itching to see you.” Soda chimes in, perking up at the idea of getting out of the house. “We could go to the drive-in with them, or maybe play football in the lot? Or if you're not up to seeing them we could go visit mom and dad's grave? You probably haven't-”

“No.” Ponyboy snaps and then he pauses, and slowly he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “We can go to the drive-in, or the lot. I don't care. I don't care what we do.” There's a moment's pause, everyone trying to process the sudden outburst. Soda wonders briefly if this is the same Ponyboy from all those years ago.

“Is there a reason you're so upset with us? I thought you'd be happy to be home.” Darry says, blunt as a baseball bat, Sodapop expects an explanation, or maybe even silence, what he doesn't expect is for Ponyboy to ask.

“Why aren't you in college?”

Darry's brows furrow, his hand curls into a fist around his fork, for a moment he looks just like their dad. Soda holds his breath, watching as Darry straightens in his seat, as his jaw clenches, “What?”

“You should've gone to college, that’s what you were suppose’ to do.” Ponyboy says and then he stands, chair scraping harshly against the floor. “I’m not hungry.” There’s a pause, a moment of hesitation and then Pony walks swiftly away into their room, grabbing his trash bag of things on the way, the door doesn't slam like Soda expected, instead it gently clicks closed.

“I'll talk to him” Soda says before Darry has a chance to speak. Soda abandons his plate and Darry at the table. Not bothering to knock, he walks into his and Pony’s room, shutting the door gently behind him. He watches as Ponyboy sits on their bed, back turned to Soda, the crinkling of the trash bag is the only indication that the kid is moving at all. Soda is silent for a moment, allowing them both a moment to gather their thoughts. Soda’s eyes scan over their bedroom, it’s changed a lot these past six months, two child sized beds turned into one large bed, cars themed curtains turned to simple black. The only thing that hasn’t changed is Boots. Ponyboy’s childhood stuffed bunny is proudly in the middle of their bed just as it always was, this morning Soda had left it sitting up against his pillow, now it lays face down in the middle of the bed. Soda wonders if Ponyboy had moved it before dinner, if he’d held it while he cried just like Soda has so many times over the last few years.

“You know Darry tried to get them to send you Boots, but they wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t even tell us where you were so we could send him ourselves.” Soda says, slowly moving closer to their bed. “I know you’ll be home permanently soon but if you wanted to take him with you on Sunday-”

“Didn’t I say I ain’t a baby?” Pony says, there’s anger in his words but Soda can’t help but think that the words don’t just sound angry, they sound tired. “I don’t need a stuffed animal.”

“Well,” Soda sits on the opposite side of the bed, carefully picking boots up, running his fingers over the stuffies old blue and gray fur. “I do sometimes. When I have a nightmare, or when I think too much about mom and dad… I needed Boots a lot before, when I didn’t know if you were okay. I’d hug him and hope that somewhere you could feel me hugging you.”

There’s silence, for a long, long time, long enough that Soda considers leaving, maybe sleeping with Darry or on the couch, anything would be better than the silence, just as Soda begins to stand Ponyboy says, “You should keep it.”

“Okay” Soda whispers “Whatever you want, Pony.”

-------

It doesn’t take long for Soda to fall asleep after the excitement of the day. Ponyboy doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the night and Soda doesn’t push. He helps Darry clean the kitchen, shaking his head when Darry asks what happened. He sets out some clean clothes for Ponyboy to sleep in and slides under the covers. It’s become normal for Sodapop to wake up in the middle of the night, nightmares and anxiety brought on by his foster house make it difficult to get a good night's rest. So, when he wakes up at two in the morning he doesn’t think much of it, sleepily sitting up and stretching, popping the bones of his fingers and his neck with a soft sigh. It isn’t until he stands, deciding on grabbing a glass of water before crawling into bed with Darry to hide in the safety of his brother’s arms that he realizes what woke him up wasn't a nightmare at all, it was Ponyboy getting up.

Anxiety fills Soda’s heart; suddenly very awake Soda makes his way out of his room and down the hall. Was Ponyboy running away? Was his brother so upset at being home that he’d waited until everyone was asleep to take off into the night? What if he was hurt? What if he’d been afraid, or crying and hadn’t wanted Soda to know? Soda longs for the days that Ponyboy would crawl into bed with him after a bad dream, letting Soda take all of his worries away.

Soda breathes a sigh of relief when he rounds the corner to find Ponyboy standing in the living room. He’s still here, Pony is home, he’s safe, he’s on the phone- he’s on the phone? Soda backs up a bit, hiding as much as he can in the hallway, he knows eavesdropping and sneaking around aren’t good, his mama would surely yell at him for it, but he can’t help but to be curious. Who the hell would Ponyboy be calling at this hour? Soda watches as Pony finishes dialing and slowly puts the phone up to his ear. There's silence as the phone rings and rings and then Ponyboy is speaking, and Soda desperately wishes he could hear the other side of the phone call.

“It's me” Ponyboy says, his voice is so soft Soda can hardly hear it. “Nothin’ nothin’ sorry.” A pause followed by, “Yeah I'm-I'm in Tulsa”

Soda takes a deep breath, relieved at least that Ponyboy isn't on the phone with their social worker. “I'm with my brothers. I just-I hate this.”

Ponyboy's words make Soda's heart race. He hates it? Hates them? Soda can't imagine why, what had happened in the few hours they've known each other again. Was Ponyboy angry that Soda got to come home first? Did he hate them because they didn't find him sooner? Or was he angry because he had a good placement and felt like his brothers were ruining his life trying to get him back? But with the bruises… 

“I do trust them. It's not that-”

Soda slides down the hallway wall. Trust… He trusts them? But he seems so angry- it's all so much, so confusing. Soda has never felt so unsure in his entire life, even after his parents died, he knew what to do. Knew he had to fake nice on the West side until he could finally leave, knew he had to follow the rules with the hopes of seeing his friends and older brother at school and any moment he could find to escape. Now with Ponyboy… It's like he doesn't know anything at all, he used to know everything about his baby brother.

“I am trying-” Pony's voice raises and Soda finds himself watching Darry’s bedroom door, worried that the noise will wake their older brother. “I am trying! I am okay- I just hate this. There's no point in bein’ back home like this. Havin’ to be here- they wanted to go visit mom and dad-”

Soda flinches, was that what had upset Ponyboy? Of course they all missed their parents, being back in their home had been so difficult for the first few weeks. Soda had found himself sitting on the porch most days, too afraid to go in without his parents there, but too afraid to leave with the fear of not being able to come home. Soda figured Ponyboy would be overwhelmed, thought maybe he would cry, he hadn't been expecting anger but maybe he should’ve.

Soda remembers being angry that first year. Stuck on the West side, separated from his brothers, living with people who didn’t care about him, only taking care of him to show him off like some charity case, the pity of strangers he wished he never met. In the blink of an eye everything had changed. Where he lived, what he was allowed to eat, to say, to wear, even how he wore his hair. He hadn't fit in anywhere anymore, not with greasers and not with socs, for a while it felt as though he hadn't even fit in with his own friends. The only comfort he had was Darry. But it's been years since then, and over time he'd learned to deal with the grief. He's still angry, of course he is, but life goes on, in order to survive he'd had to set aside his anger. Soda finds himself wondering if Ponyboy had used anger to survive.

Soda finds that he can't listen anymore, that the anxiety and fear are eating him alive. The idea of Pony not wanting to be home- Soda quickly and quietly makes his way into Darry's room, shutting the door gently behind him. Darry hardly even wakes up as Soda slides under the covers, using his big brother’s arm as a pillow.

With no one there to listen Ponyboy's voice breaks as he continues speaking. “They're gonna get sick of me. They're gonna get sick of me and send me away and I don't wanna be here. I don't wanna get attached to bein’ home just to get sent away again.”

A tired gruff voice answers, “Pony come on man. They're your brothers. They ain't gonna send you away.”

“You don't know that. I'm trouble. That's what everyone keeps sayin. You know they won't keep me around if-”

“Knock it off, ain't you supposed to be smart? They aren’t gonna get rid of ya and if they do I'll deal with it okay? When do you get home?”

Ponyboy sighs. “Tuesday, I think.”

“Then I'll see you Tuesday. Just keep your nose clean until then kid. And try. I don't wanna be woken up again.”

“Dal-”

“Go to bed.” The line goes dead no sooner than Dallas has finished talking and it takes everything in Ponyboy to keep from crying. He simply sets the phone down and makes his way back to his and Soda’s room. When he opens the door to find Sodapop gone, boots left fallen over in his place Ponyboy can't help the way tears gather in his eyes, he’s never wished he was in New York so badly before.

[vinceaddams]

Speaking of cottages, one actually really cool piece of decor there is this mobile made of enormous pinecones my great grandmother brought back from California in the early 60's. We're in Eastern Canada, but this was back before people realized how bad it is to bring plant matter across borders. The smaller cones in the middle are about as big as they get around here.

[trillgutterbug]

heard his "im arriving with the spoils of war everyone!" meow coming toward the house and i said aloud "oh god please don't be another slug please don't be another slug."

guys. it was another slug.

[pleistocene-pride]

The Shingleback lizard also known as the Yoorn, the two-headed skink, the stumpy-tailed skink, the boggi, the pinecone lizard, and the sleepy lizard, is a species of skink found throughout the continent of Australia. Its 2lb, 12 inch long body is heavily armored and can be found in various colors, ranging from dark brown to cream. It has a short, wide, stumpy tail that resembles that acts as a false head to confuse potential predators. The tail also contains fat reserves, which are drawn upon during brumation in winter. A diurnal species, the shingleback can be found throughout arid forests, shrublands, grasslands, and desert environments where it feed upon snails, worms, arthropods, carrion, grasses, and flowers. Shinglebacks themselves are preyed upon by dingoes, pythons, birds of prey, foxes and cats. Unlike most lizards, Shinglebacks are social animals that form monogamous pairs that have been known to return to each other every year for up to 20 years. They breed from September through November. These lizards are viviparous, giving birth to broods of 1 to 4 relatively large offspring. The gestation period usually lasts around 5 months. The young are born well-developed and weigh about ¼ to 1/3 of a lb. The young are raised by there parents for 4-6 months before striking off on there won, but they remain in close proximity, forming and living in a colony of closely related skinks.

[moe-broey]

I have to Do Things today but. Have this Alfonse before I go 👍

[sansan9]

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Creature Comforts

Rated G | Vidow Cottage AU | 2557 words

Vio notices literal and figurative similarities between Shadow and Pinecone the cat.

I wrote this fic back in September for the Four Swords Winter's Delight zine, which has now been released! Please check out the tumblr page @fswintersdelight for the PDF, which includes art, fic, and other goodies from fandom creators. A special thank you to Kalh, aka @vagueandominousvibes and WriterKalhsScribbles on ao3, for creating and managing the event!

“I love it,” Vio says, turning the rock over in his hand. It reminds him of sunset dragon rides, the heat of the Fire Temple, the sweet taste of marshmallows roasted over fires they set together. “Thank you, Shadow.” In retrospect, Vio knows he probably shouldn’t have been so permissive of Shadow doing villainous things to impress him back in their evil days. It’s something Blue, Green, Zelda, and even Shadow himself have all since commented on, with various degrees of moral judgment. And to his credit, Vio typically attempts to walk it back, to express retroactive distaste for Shadow’s more violent and macabre ‘gifts.’ But deep down, some part of Vio will always take pleasure in the degree to which Shadow will go to prove his devotion. “We should probably dispose of the dead mouse, though,” Shadow mutters against Vio’s lips.

Read the rest on AO3 or under the cut:

Evil root beer is not meant to be served warm.

“Okay, yeah, experiment’s over,” Shadow gags, pouring the contents of his stein into the kitchen sink.

Vio winces at the waste. “To be fair, some beverages can be served hot and cold.” He retrieves the pot from the stovetop and begins to wash it, while Shadow sits up on the counter. His expression, Vio can’t help but notice, is almost comically sour.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Vio says, reaching for a sponge.

“It was pretty bad,” Shadow disagrees with an exaggerated shiver. “Oh hey, Pinecone.”

Their cat acknowledges them with a glance as she wanders into the tiny kitchen, headed straight for her food bowl. Wet food waits for her, as always.

Vio turns off the faucet and places the the pot on the drying rack, joining Shadow on the counter. “I know what might get the taste out of your mouth,” he says with a smirk.

Shadow returns it. “Yeah? I’d test that theory.”

Skrch-skrch-skrch.

Their attention returns to Pinecone, who scrapes the tile beside her food bowl with one dainty paw. After a moment of expressing her displeasure, she gives her roommates an indignant stare.

“Why?” Vio exclaims, gesticulating his offense. “It’s the same exact food as usual!”

“Relax,” Shadow says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll talk to her.”

“You’ll… what?”

Shadow winks, and suddenly he’s not Shadow at all. A lean black cat with familiar eyes replaces him on the counter, taking a quick second to nuzzle against Vio’s leg before he hops onto the floor.

Vio frowns. “Oh, right.”

Shadow crosses over to join Pinecone at her bowl, trilling a friendly greeting towards his three-legged friend. Pinecone sniffs him for only a second before she bonks his forehead.

They two cats communicate in a series of meows and chirps, none of which Vio can understand. After an especially long monologue from Pinecone, Shadow nods and leans down to sample some of her freshly-served, perfectly good chicken pate. After a few bites he consults with Pinecone once again, and then makes his way back to Vio on the counter.

Vio gives Shadow a full-body pet, enjoying the way he leans into his touch. And then Real Shadow is back, doing the very same thing, only his hair is purple instead of black. Shadow’s eyes are closed and he wears the dopiest smile, almost lost in the affection.

Vio clears his throat. Shadow opens one eye, as if remembering where he is and what he’s doing. He straightens his spine and leans against the kitchen backsplash.

“Well, nothing’s wrong with the food,” Shadow says, glancing over as Pinecone scrapes the floor again. “She just isn’t in the mood for chicken.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Vio huffs, crossing his arms over his sweater-clad chest. “I don’t want to waste food, and she’ll get another tin in twelve hours anyway.”

Shadow shrugs. “Seems reasonable to me. She’s fine, just being a little bit of a drama queen.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Vio teases. “Experiment’s still on the table, by the way.”

“I’ll ignore the insult if you kiss me.”

Vio indulges Shadow for only a second before he pulls away with his own exaggerated disgust. “Cat food! Your mouth tastes like cat food!”

Shadow bursts out laughing. “Sounds like someone isn’t in the mood for chicken!” Leaning back, he slams his head against the upper cabinet. “Aw, sh—”

Vio pats Shadow comfortingly as he reaches towards the shelf.

“Vi, what are you—”

Pinecone chirps happily as Vio opens a tin of tuna pate.

─────────────────

Vio found the book on cat behavior at the Castle Town library a few days ago, but this is the first time he’s actually been able to read it. Lounging on the couch beside a crackling fire, he hums as he turns the page.

A familiar chirp startles him to attention. Pinecone sits at the foot of the couch, staring intently towards Vio’s lap. He smiles, shifts his book to an admittedly less comfortable position, and pats the wool blanket. “You can come up.”

And so she does, immediately claiming her favorite spot on Vio’s stomach. She circles for only a moment before collapsing, resting her chin on his chest and meeting his eyes. He senses the soft rumble of a purr, and watches as she begins to knead the soft blanket.

It’s a weird angle, but Vio still manages to check the book’s index for ‘kneading.’

Kneading, also known as ‘making biscuits,’ is an instinctive feline soothing behavior.

Vio looks fondly down at his feline. “Are you making biscuits, Pinecone?”

She trills and kneads harder.

“Biscuits are in the oven!” announces Shadow, standing in the doorframe between their kitchen and den. He has flour all over his black apron, and looks very proud of his hard work.

Pinecone hops off Vio’s lap to rub against Shadow’s leg, and Vio finds himself on his feet as well. “You’ve got some flour on your face,” he observes, stepping closer.

Shadow smirks. “Totally not on purpose.”

“Of course not,” Vio agrees, running a finger gently down the other man’s cheek. He wipes the flour onto Shadow’s apron, and then pulls him by the waist for a kiss.

─────────────────

“Can you maniacs please get the zoomies one at a time?” Vio complains, seated at the kitchen table with a stack of handwritten notes and a warm cup of tea.

Pinecone responds by running straight into a wall.

Shadow, meanwhile, has been bouncing his leg uncontrollably for the past fifteen minutes. Vio finally leans down to place a gentle hand on Shadow’s knee, steadying both his partner and the table itself.

“I know the meeting was long,” he says, meeting Shadow’s eyes. “But we need to finalize this summary while the discussion is still fresh in our minds.”

Shadow glances longingly towards the den, where Pinecone gives an enchantingly peculiar yowling performance.

“She’s fine,” Vio reassures him. “Normal feline behavior, my book said so.”

Shadow sighs, trying his best to settle. “Yeah. I know. I can focus.”

Vio kisses his cheek, free to work uninterrupted for several peaceful minutes.

That is, until he hears the scraping.

Vio’s head shoots up, startling Shadow enough that he freezes mid-action. He appears to have been slowly sliding Vio’s mug closer to the table’s edge.

“What are you doing?” Vio asks, raising an eyebrow.

Shadow appears genuinely confused by his own strange impulse. “I… I’m not sure.” He pulls back his hand and examines it, bewildered. “It’s like I got possessed or something.”

They both hear a loud crash from the den.

Sighing, Vio caps his pen. “Wanna go see what she broke?”

Shadow is already gone.

─────────────────

This is the third dead thing Pinecone has brought him in a week. Vio winces down at the mouse’s corpse, only wincing harder at his cat’s self-satisfied expression.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he mutters, toeing the ‘gift’ with a sock-clad foot. “Where’s Shadow? He’s supposed to be watching you.”

Pinecone is almost entirely an indoor cat, but during the late autumn Shadow allows her to accompany him into the yard while he chops firewood. Vio can’t really blame Shadow for losing sight of the cat, who at the end of the day is naturally inclined to hunt and present trophies to the people she loves.

“Good kitty,” Vio tells Pinecone, petting her soft little head. She preens.

“Please tell me the cat’s inside,” Shadow calls from the front door, shutting it quickly behind him to keep out the November chill.

From his cozy spot in the den, Vio smiles. “Yes, she’s in here.”

Shadow stumbles into the room, wrapped up in a black and red flannel, still clutching Vio’s Four Sword. “I’m so sorry,” he says, slightly out of breath. “I was trying really hard to split this one stubborn log, and—”

Vio stands up and grabs Shadow by the waist, enjoying the lingering smell of trees.

“Hi,” Shadow tells Vio, tenderly stroking his back. “I’m a little sweaty, are you sure you want to hug me right now?”

“Too late.”

“Ah, I see Pinecone has brought you another present,” Shadow observes, somewhere between amused and disgusted. “I’m surprised she was able to do it in only a few minutes.”

Vio smirks, out of sight. “What a pragmatic little creature.”

Pinecone trills—probably at a bird out the window, but Vio likes to think she understands.

“She learned from the best,” says Shadow, and Vio pulls back to meet his eyes. His hands wander from Shadow’s waist to the pocket of his flannel, which contains… something?

Shadow blushes, and Vio loves that Shadow can still, once in a while, have his bashful moments. “It’s nothing, really, just…”

Vio withdraws the object from Shadow’s pocket and holds it between them. It’s a rock about the size of his palm, ash-brown, with strange irregular jutting edges. Shadow sighs and turns it over in Vio’s hand, revealing a smooth caramel-colored face.

“Found it and thought you’d be interested,” Shadow explains, still slightly embarrassed. “Could make a nice paperweight, too.”

Vio searches his brain for any knowledge of the peculiar specimen. “Petrified wood,” he vaguely recalls. “It’s sort of a fossil, I think. At some point, this area was affected by a volcano, or just a lot of fire, and the trees went through a sort of mineralization process.”

“Do you think that’s because of me?”

Vio blinks, genuinely puzzled by the question.

“Because of all the fire,” Shadow clarifies. “And the volcano.”

Vio releases a short laugh, but stops himself immediately. Shadow is genuinely concerned, he wants to take this seriously. “Love,” he says, reaching for his partner’s flannel-clad arm, “this is a fossil. Its creation might as well be ancient history.”

Shadow exhales. “Oh. Right.”

Vio feels Shadow’s muscles loosen—which, by the way, have become noticeably more pronounced since Shadow started chopping firewood.

“It’s just weird,” Shadow continues, not appearing to notice the blush on Vio’s face. “I know it’s been, like, more than a year since I did those awful things, but I still…”

“I love it,” Vio says, turning the rock over in his hand. It reminds him of sunset dragon rides, the heat of the Fire Temple, the sweet taste of marshmallows roasted over fires they set together. “Thank you, Shadow.”

In retrospect, Vio knows he probably shouldn’t have been so permissive of Shadow doing villainous things to impress him back in their evil days. It’s something Blue, Green, Zelda, and even Shadow himself have all since commented on, with various degrees of moral judgment. And to his credit, Vio typically attempts to walk it back, to express retroactive distaste for Shadow’s more violent and macabre ‘gifts.’

But deep down, some part of Vio will always take pleasure in the degree to which Shadow will go to prove his devotion.

“We should probably dispose of the dead mouse, though,” Shadow mutters against Vio’s lips.

From beneath them, Pinecone hisses.

─────────────────

The frequency of cat purring has been shown to fall between 25 and 140 Hz. The same frequency has been shown to aid in the healing of broken bones, joint and tendon repair, and wound healing. The combined effects of their relaxing presence and their purr make cats powerful against stress and anxiety. Cat owners report that—

“Put down the book,” Shadow mutters into Vio’s shoulder. “You need to rest.”

Vio sniffles and does as he’s told. Shadow holds him closer, pulling Red’s handmade quilt from fully over them both.

“You’re lucky,” Vio says, his throat dry, “that you don’t get sick very often. It sucks.”

Shadow hums sympathetically. “Strong immune system means I can still hold you, contagion be damned.”

“Are you sure that’s, like, a real thing?”

Shadow kisses the side of Vio’s forehead. It’s warm from his fever, but colder than it had been a few hours ago.

“Hi, Pinecone,” says Vio as the cat joins them in bed. She goes straight to Vio’s chest, plopping down and rolling on her side. Shadow scritches her soft belly with one hand and rubs Vio’s side with the other.

Pinecone’s purrs are immediate and much louder than usual. With wonder in his eyes, Vio gently presses two fingers to her throat. It vibrates steadily under his touch, and a slight press seems to make the purrs even louder.

“I’ll research her anatomy later,” Vio decides. “Too tired now.”

“Good idea,” Shadow says, completely earnest. “I love it when you know your limits.”

Vio musters the energy to roll his eyes. “Well now I have to—uh, Shadow?”

“Hm?”

Vio raises both eyebrows, turning his head to see Shadow’s face. “Are you purring?”

After a second of consideration, Shadow presses two fingers to his own throat. “Huh,” he remarks, self-satisfied. “Would you look at that.”

“Have you always been able to purr?” Vio asks, a little too weak to muster appropriate levels of bewilderment.

Shadow shakes his head. “Must have picked it up from shapeshifting into a cat so often. Neat.”

Vio has so many questions. Does this mean Shadow could just take on any quality he pleases? Could he take on more feline features, like really sharp claws and fangs? Just how weird can he get with this, if he so chooses? Because Vio already has a thing for his fangs, and—

Shadow purrs louder, adding to Pinecone’s steady rumbling. Vio shakes his head, too sick and too comfortable to stress.

─────────────────

“Please bite me somewhere less obvious next time,” Vio tells Shadow, wrapping a scarf around his neck. Shadow pouts, already bundled up for the snowy walk into castle town, and bats at the scarf’s fringes.

“They look nice,” he says, only earning a huff. Vio agrees completely, but one of them has to at least pretend to care about propriety. “Got your library book, nerd?”

Vio holds up the text on feline behavior. “Got it.” He then tucks it safely inside the tote bag they use at the farmer’s market when it’s in season.

Scritch-scritch-scritch.

“Oh, come on,” Vio mutters, craning his head towards the den. “Pinecone, not the couch! Red just helped us reupholster that thing!”

The scratching stops for a moment, then starts again. Vio pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, love,” Shadow says, although Vio knows he’s more amused than apologetic. “I think we’re just going to have to accept a certain degree of property defacement. Take it as a compliment—she only wants to claim what’s hers.”

Vio sighs. “Yeah, whatever.”

Shadow removes Vio’s scarf, scrunches it into a ball, and tosses it into the den.

─────────────────

Shadow works in the kitchen again, while Vio and Pinecone share the couch in front of a crackling fire. She’s right on his chest again, purring away, staring directly into his eyes. Vio is still disappointed that he can’t talk to her directly, but borrowing the feline behavior book definitely helped him understand her. Vio will always treasure the unique bond they share, even if it’s not as verbose as hers and Shadow’s.

Pinecone blinks slowly.

“I love you, too,” says Vio.

Shadow abruptly leans into the den, holding a wooden spoon covered with pumpkin soup. “Did you say something?”

Vio smirks, bumping Pinecone’s forehead. “Not to you.”

Shadow traces Vio’s gaze to Pinecone as she slow blinks again. He smiles, shakes his head, and leaves them to their conversation.

[neothebean]

Me: I will stop complaining about work, as my friends and family have heard it all and maybe if I stop complaining I'll stop finding reasons to complain

Me, five minutes later: *foaming at the mouth because everything and everyone is so stupid and infuriating*

[thresholdbb]

Perfect, I wanted to take a quick nap

[kumidark]

summoning circle to get these three to come back to my cake shop 🙏🙏🙏

[isostatic-uplift]

I got reviews back for my masters manuscript and I'm actually having lots of fun with the revisions? Is this normal???

I suppose it helps that I'm a huge fan of the non-anonymous reviewer and her feedback is both super constructive/useful and really kindly delivered... I'm so glad she reviewed it 😭

[chradi]

I’m unironically pretty happy with where I am in life right now