#rereading this i realized how often i put in the middle of random sentences

[dolokhoded]

javid headcanons would be super cool if ur up for that 👉👈

YES JAVID full disclosure i used to not get this dynamic at a l l but my friend loved it and it slowly grew on me and now i just uGHHH THEM

imma do high school au because i was talking abt that with said friend a couple days ago,,

AIGHT,,

JACK AND DAVEY

davey transferred to jack's school in their junior year

(along with sarah obviously but this ain't about her)

and they started out,,,,,,,,,,,,, they certainly started out :)))

they were these two kids that would always fight in history class and im rlly pissed that not all of your schools do philosophy in america bc they do here and having experienced these lessons these two would THROW HANDS during philosophy

it gets like pretty intense, they don't like,,,,, punch each other or anything but they'll like get up from their seats and everything and because this isn't the real world the teacher's just like 'hm yea discussion im not gonna stop this :)'

and they're convinced that the other hates them just bc they happened to have a history class together

so they're kind of at each other's throats at first

of course they're also kinda pushed together because al and sarah are rlly close

(i'll get more into this POWER FRIENDSHIP some other time)

and most of the guys take a liking to davey so they have to be near each other sometimes

and thEN,,,,,,

jack had taken part in this portrait competition because he loved to draw portraits it was basically all he did and at the LAST MINUTE just as he was about to sit down and start painting he was just,,,,, so out of inspiration

and he was so pissed

so he cried a little and then he just kinda let himself go and,,,,, just kinda vibe with it, let his mind help him through it

and you KNOW this bitch drew davey without even REALIZING

he's like ",,,,,,,oh no" because that's also kinda the moment he realizes he has the gay for him........ but he also has to submit something in the next like three hours and to be frank it's looking pretty amazing

so he just,,, goes ahead and submits his accidental davey portrait

and it wins first place

and obviously since it won first place davey kinda notices and he's all like

"you,,,,,,,,,,,, you drew me?"

"shit, i didn't mean to, i know this might be creepy, look, i'm sorry about it-”

“no i mean- it's actually kinda sweet”

and davey didn't stop talking about it for like a month

sarah was like oh my god would you SHUT UP

WE GET IT YOU'RE GAY

and davey has like a moment where he's like ",,,, wait im gay?"

"i mean, i know im gay, but like,,,,,,, im jack gay?"

sarah needs a break she can't deal with this she calls albert to bring her weed

and davey panics for a moment and then absolutely loses his shit and he sprints to jack's house

this is at ONE IN THE MORNING

and jack just opens the window and he's not sure if he's high on paint fumes and having hallucinations because davey's just yelling

"JACK!!!!!!! IM GAY!!!!!!!!!"

and jack's like

"i.........havent we been over this?"

but davey's just like "NO JACK,,,"

"I'M GAY." intense gesturing between them

",,,,,,,,oH, YOU'RE- YOU'RE LIKE ME GAY?"

(side note that crutchie, race, romeo and jack are medda's adopted sons in this so the other three are just like standing outside the door like "is jack literally having a stroke should we check on him?")

they kith

by some miracle it doesn't take them a billion years of miscommunication until they start dating

and like everyone saw it coming but they're also kinda like what the fuck

this happened when

although davey loves all his friends and his boyfriend,,,,,,,,,,,, he doesn't want them breaking his perfectly normal siblings

he will NOT allow jack alone with les anymore because the moment davey's gone he proceeds to teach this INNOCENT KID some QUESTIONABLE stuff

knowledge that he should NOT HAVE

one of jack's favorite davey moments is when he got a voice message from him at three in the morning being just like

"jack tell your twink brother to come collect that dumbass ginger he's encouraging my sister to shave her head.”

he laughed at that for ten minutes

we woke up race just to inform him that not only had davey just used the word 'twink' but he did it to refer to him

davey actually likes albert and doesn't really care if sarah shaved her head he just wanted them to shut the fuck up so he could sleep

jack is literally the definition of "aw babe you had a crush on me? that's embarrassing"

he's lucky davey loves him otherwise he would be so done with his crap

[sunflowershouto]

strange little visitor - shoto todoroki x reader

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: I got the idea for this while snuggling with my kitty! some fluff with my favorite boy <3, hope you enjoy! My requests are currently open!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Shoto has been having the same cat visit his room at night, and your cat seems to disappear every now and then.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.9k

𝐬 𝐭 𝐫 𝐚 𝐧 𝐠 𝐞   𝐥 𝐢 𝐭 𝐭 𝐥 𝐞   𝐯 𝐢 𝐬 𝐢 𝐭 𝐨 𝐫

Shoto let out a long sigh as he drummed his fingers against his bedroom desk, eyes scanning the same paragraph of his textbook for what felt like the millionth time. It wasn��t that he didn’t get it; in fact, the information he was studying was merely review for an upcoming exam. The issue was that he couldn’t get himself to focus.

No matter how many times he read the same sentence over and over and over and over and over again, it didn’t seem to stick. 

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back into his chair and let his pencil clatter uselessly against the surface of his desk. It was a pointless exercise to keep rereading the same passage, hoping for a new result; maybe he should move onto something new. Just as he was about to turn the page to move on to a new section, he heard a soft plop against the bed behind him, and a light jingling sound.

“Hm?”

When he turned around to see what had entered, he was met with the sight of a fluffy calico cat kneading one of his pillows, having entered from his open window. 

It definitely belonged to someone, there was a collar with a bell around its neck, but it had no tags to indicate its name or who it belonged to.

“Can I help you?” Shoto asked, standing and walking over to his bed, where he bent over to take a closer look at his new visitor. “I don’t think you belong here.” 

The only response he got was a soft purr and a twitching ear. Go figure.

It stayed for a few hours, not disturbing him as he studied and sitting quietly on his bed, perfectly content to just lounge around.

He glanced back at it every few moments, as if waiting for it to do something. After all, it wasn’t every day that a random stranger’s cat came waltzing into his bedroom. Weird. . . After finishing with his studies, he cleaned off his desk and then went and sat down next to the cat, staring down at it almost expectantly.

“Well? Why are you here?” he asked, reaching out a hand towards the cat, aiming to scratch behind its ears.

It just purred and rubbed its face against his hand, curling its tail and rolling onto its side.

“I see,” Shoto replied, as if the cat had said something of substance. “Don’t you have a home? Someone has to be missing you.”

The cat only continued to purr. It stayed for another hour, before it went back out the window and happily trotted home.

//

You were just about to lay down to go to sleep when you heard little footsteps pattering on your balcony and went to open the door for your cat. You slid open the glass door and smiled as he hurried in. 

“Hi, Koko,” you cooed, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears. “Did you have a fun adventure? I wonder where you go all the time.”

Koko meowed softly, rubbing against your legs before jumping up onto the foot of your bed and curling into a little ball, where he promptly fell asleep.

“Weirdo.” You gave him one last little scratch before crawling under your covers and falling asleep.

//

It was three weeks later, and more often than not, Koko went to visit Todoroki’s room at night. If the window was open, he’d let himself in, and if it wasn’t, he’d scratch at the glass until Shoto opened it for him. The cat had made himself quite at home, and Shoto was getting used to his company.

He had started calling the cat Chabu, a nickname that seemed endearing, if not a little mean spirited. It meant “Chub,” but in fairness, Koko was a heavy cat.

It was an average morning at UA, and Shoto was trying to think of a way to figure out whose cat seemed to be so insistent on visiting him. He was relatively sure that it was probably some old woman who lived nearby, maybe the type to own ten cats and let them out on their own.

You sat in front of Momo, and one seat diagonally in front of him, which meant that for the most part, he could hear the conversations that you and Yaoyorozu shared in the mornings before class started. Sometimes he liked to listen; he found your enthusiasm about certain topics endearing, and found himself interested in the things that you had to say.

“L/N, he’s so cute!” Momo enthused, gushing over a picture you had pulled up on your phone.

Shoto couldn’t see the screen, but he assumed that the photo was of a pet, or maybe a younger sibling or cousin.

“I know!” you agreed, swiping through a few more pictures. “His name is Koko, and he’s such a sweetheart. He’s got quite the sense of adventure.”

In hindsight, he should have connected the dots right there, but he tuned out the end of your conversation as Aizawa began his lecture, and forgot all about the pictures that you had shared with Momo.

Most of that day, Shoto found himself thinking about figuring out where Chabu was coming from; after all, someone had to be wondering where their cat was going every night, although he was a bit hesitant to seek out his owner. After all, what if they decided to start forcing him to stay inside? He’d grown to enjoy his little visitor, though he supposed Chabu’s owner deserved to know where he had been.

On his walk home from the train station, he decided that tonight he would try to follow Chabu home, just to see. 

Shoto was almost at his house, when he caught a glimpse of a UA uniform and a familiar face across the street. He stopped walking and called over, a bit confused. “L/N?”

You weren’t expecting to hear your name, especially not in his voice. Your face flushed immediately, and you turned around to wave. “To-Todoroki! Hi! I haven’t seen you around here before!” Why couldn’t you think of cooler things to say?!

“Ah. I live that way,” he replied, gesturing down the street and then to the left. 

‘Of course he lives in the nicer part of the neighborhood.’ You shook your head, thinking to yourself for a moment before smiling again. “Wow! I guess we live kind of close then, huh? My house is just down this road. I can’t believe I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Todoroki nodded his agreement, a small smile on his face, one that you couldn’t see from across the street. So he lived close to you. Why did he take so much satisfaction in knowing that? “It was nice seeing you, L/N.”

Waving to each other one last time, you parted ways and headed in opposite directions, your face flushed as you hurried home and into your bedroom, where you flopped down onto your bed and groaned. “I am so bad at talking to him,” you sighed, throwing an arm over your face.

Koko hopped up onto your bed and curled into your side, where he napped happily, blissfully unaware of his own involvement in all of this.

//

“Okay, Chabu. You’re gonna show me where you live,” Shoto informed the cat, who had absolutely no idea what was being said to him. 

It was late that night, about the time that Chabu usually liked to return home for his meal, and Todoroki was just waiting for him to head out the window so he could finally put an end to this mystery.

The second that the cat was out the window, Shoto followed, leaving it propped open just enough that he could get back inside when he returned home. “Alright, lead the way,” he declared matter-of-factly, as if Chabu had any idea what was happening.

The cat moved fairly quickly, and Shoto found himself jogging to keep up as he followed closely, taking note of what streets he’d crossed so he could find his way back home. He was expecting a longer journey than what he got; in fact, he’d only been following Chabu for a few moments before the cat headed for one of the houses and climbed up a pillar and onto an apartment balcony.

“An apartment,” he sighed to himself, regaining his breath and staring up at the balcony as Chabu scratched at the glass to be let in. There was a light on inside, and Shoto could make out a silhouette crossing the room from behind the curtain. 

“Koko!” a soft voice cooed as someone stepped out, kneeling down to greet the little trickster.

“L/N?!”

“Huh? Wha- Todoroki?! What are you doing here?” You stood up immediately, moving to lean over the balcony and stare out at your classmate in confusion. Your face was bright red, as you started to process the fact that this was real. The guy you liked was currently outside of your house in the middle of the night, and you had no idea how to react. “Did you- Did you follow my cat to my house?”

“No, I didn’t- I mean- Yes. I did, actually. But I didn’t know that he was yours. I thought Chabu’s owner would be some old lady,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and waving the other furiously. 

Your face fell completely flat as you stared down at the white-and-red haired boy who was standing beneath your balcony. “Todoroki?”

“Yes, L/N?”

“Did you name my cat Chubby?”

“. . .Yes. He’s been visiting me at night for quite some time now.”

“I. . .” You were at a loss for words. Part of you was dying inside because this! was! happening! Todoroki was outside your window, telling you that your idiot cat had been disappearing to visit him at night for almost a month. The other part of you was slightly insulted that he’d had a month to name your cat, and he had chosen ‘Chabu.’

“His name is Koko.”

Todoroki nodded, his face unreadable as he stared up at you. 

You hesitated for a moment before you moved over to the small fire escape ladder that led from your balcony to the ground. You moved quickly down it, and then went to stand in front of Todoroki.

“And you followed him all the way here?” You were smiling now, a warm feeling taking over inside as you realized just how utterly adorable that was.

He nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours, his hands open at his sides.

You took a breath before placing your hands in his and standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. “You can call me Y/N.” Your face was burning and your heart was pounding, but he hadn’t pulled away.

“Shoto,” he replied, squeezing your hands lightly in his.

“Shoto,” you echoed, your smile widening. “If. . . You know, if you wanna hang out sometime. . . Since I guess we co-parent my cat now. We should hang out. Or something.”

He returned the smile and your heart skipped a beat. He hesitated, moving a bit awkwardly to kiss the top of your head, as if he wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do. “I’d like that, Y/N.”

“Just promise you’ll stop calling my cat Chabu?” you reminded him, giving him a sheepish smile.

“I promise.”

[strangebrews]

perfect complements

chapter two // on ao3 // chapter 1 // chapter 3 // chapter 4

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

Tommy had gotten divorced the year before, the papers making it official arrived a week after he had moved into this new house. 

He did not elaborate on who it was, only said that they were the one to make the decision. “Claimed I was too cold—too distant and emotionless. Being with me was more of a challenge than a pleasure.” His tone was nonchalant throughout it all—whether that was because of genuine indifference or a refusal to reveal his pain was unclear.

They were sitting on Alfie’s back porch, sipping on warm apple cider and listening to the crickets sing. The complaints Tommy’s ex had were understandable. He was reserved and his scarce enthusiasm could be interpreted as rude, but the silence was misleading, Alfie had learned. Tommy simply expressed his appreciation in tiny spurts—you had to know what to look for. 

Eye contact was the most common. He would stare straight into Alfie’s eyes when he spoke, nodding along with the rhythm of his words, entirely expressionless. It was robotic, seemed like he had tuned out somewhere in the middle of the third sentence. Yet Alfie knew that was not the case, because Tommy filed all of the information away carefully, referencing it in different situations. Or sometimes he would take a day or two to digest before returning to the topic, prompting it with “You know, I’ve been dwelling on what you said…”

Another month had passed and their relationship blossomed further—Tommy now prepared a teapot every Saturday morning in anticipation of Alfie’s visit. He’d been shopping for an extra chair, a few more plates and some utensils—everything necessary to make their little routine as comfortable as possible. He bought precisely what he needed, never in excess. 

It took a batch of shortbread cookies, a carrot cake and 3 sourdough loaves—Tommy very much liked those—for him to finally ask Alfie to help him haul the mattress up to what would become his room. 

Patience —that was the main requirement for a bond with Tommy and Alfie was brimming with it.

-

The task was more taxing than they had anticipated, but when they had finally succeeded in rolling the mattress over onto the bed frame, Tommy dusted off his jeans and said, “I want to plant a garden. Some flower beds or…..or vegetables.” He was directing his words to the floor, which, Alfie presumed, were supposed to deflect onto him. 

It was mid-November, the morning air was growing frostier with each day—hardly the time to start planting anything, but Alfie scanned the room. It was just as plain and gloomy as the rest of the house. A winter in this setting would be horribly somber. 

“You could start with some house plants, until the seasons turn again. But you’ll need more shelves or stands—places to put them. Curtains to regulate the light, depending on the kind you buy.” he would have continued, these were necessary details, but Tommy was staring at him now, eyes growing wider with each word. 

“Ah...right.” he kicked one of the metal legs gently. “It was a stupid idea anyway.”

“I can help you, I’ve done it all before.” It slipped out before Alfie had enough time to evaluate whether that would overstep another boundary, but Tommy had replied with his Ok before he had time to overthink that as well. 

-

They visited one of the smaller flower shops in town. Alfie was a regular, knew all of the workers by name, but it took this trip with Tommy and the chorus of Alfie ’s in the entrance—all from elderly women—for him to realize how long it had been since he’d spent a considerable amount of time with someone closer to his own age. 

Tommy was particularly drawn to the succulents, brushing their stems with the pad of his thumb. He chose two large, bowl-like pots of assorted kinds—mini gardens, one of which had a ceramic gnome poised in the corner, right next to his mushroom hut. 

“I thought it’d be nice….to have someone else around—you know?” he explained it sheepishly, catching Alfie staring at the figurine, his voice hitching at the end. 

But Alfie wasn’t judging, he was simply fitting this piece of information into the Tommy puzzle. 

“I think you’re right.” and he assumed his smile was successfully reassuring, because the strain in Tommy’s jaw vanished.

-

Alfie made the rest of the suggestions. A few varieties of orchid, one blooming peace lily, a sword fern growing in a hanging pot, and some African violets—for some color. 

Tommy did not refuse any of the choices, instead lined them up in neat rows within their cart and made the occasional “Hm...yes.”

A watering can was added to the purchase—because, just as the food liked when the cook was dressed up, Tommy reasoned flowers would appreciate not being watered with some chipped mug he’d abandoned in the back of his cupboard.

And Alfie, suddenly choking on the sentiment, for once had nothing more to say.

-

It had started to drizzle lightly by the time they returned. They’d taken Tommy’s car, engine now idling in the driveway. 

“The shelves and things will be easy to find, just buy whatever furniture you think will fit best for your vision.” This single shopping trip was enough. Alfie didn’t want to overindulge in their time together.

He turned the door handle, but a hand on his upper arm stopped him. Tommy jerked it away quickly once Alfie had turned back. His mouth was open. Then closed. Open again.

“Um...what if we—I mean I—” closed again. He blinked rapidly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. So incredibly pretty.

The raindrops had grown heavier, sky darkening around them. He opted for “I’ll let you know once it’s ready,” instead.

It played out much less romantically than the thousand and one scenarios that Alfie managed to fabricate in the span of that minute. Tommy sounded defeated. Or disappointed. Perhaps a combination of the two. 

But Alfie only nodded his agreement, rather than grieving on the lost opportunity, and escaped before his own mixture of reactions could manifest themselves on his face—and other places.

He dreamt of meadows and butterfly lashes that night. 

-

The setup was ready the following week, when Alfie arrived on the doorstep with a plate of coconut custard, in the shape of a mini dome. “Something new for a change,” he shrugged, hoping inwardly that it would be an omen for other things.

Tommy had done quite a lot of work, his plants now decorating the newly arranged stands in his living and bedroom. The fern hung from the ceiling at the end of the kitchen, one of the violets soaking in the sunlight on a windowsill. 

“And the gnome garden?” It would be the centerpiece of his coffee table, Tommy explained. A simple black one, still packaged.

A bit out of place, Alfie thought, but Tommy was glowing with pride so he agreed it was the perfect location for it.

The home, in general, was still quite drab, but visibly happier with the greens and purples and yellows vibrant against the white walls. Tommy was visibly happier—the creases in his forehead had smoothened out a bit, his skin no longer a sickly pale. 

It was good. Nice, even, to see the smiles reach his eyes more often. 

Nice was of course an understatement, but Alfie had to restrict his choice in adjectives to resist the overwhelming urge to hug him. 

-

The flowers had created another visible change: Tommy talked more. Still less when compared to an average person, but he asked questions and appeared on Alfie’s front porch unannounced. 

They were all regarding the plants—he’d grown very preoccupied with their well-being and, inexperienced as he was, kept requesting that Alfie come over and check on their condition. 

He was tending to them well—much better than the flower Alfie remembered in the front window the first day. Perhaps a leaf or two had browned slightly, but nobody could avoid that. Though Tommy kept returning with the same set of worries, questions rephrased, and Alfie addressed them gladly. 

This continued for around two weeks before Alfie began to struggle with balancing the visits with his own work. So he developed a system, terrified that if he mentioned the difficulties, Tommy would retreat entirely. 

When they’d been moving the mattress, he noticed a window at the end of Tommy’s hallway upstairs—within clear view of and identical to the one on the side of Alfie’s home. 

“Write your questions here and I’ll respond as soon as I see them.” He gave Tommy a stack of white papers and a thick, blue marker—the assortment of things Tommy owned and did not was entirely random. Alfie could spare a few sheets.

Tommy accepted the idea with what could have bordered on excitement.

-

There was a question waiting for him, taped to the glass, virtually every day.

One of the orchid heads has fallen off….what now?

The grey succulent—you know, the spiral one, beside the gnome—I think it’s gotten greyer. Is that even possible?

Can I keep the violets over the heating vents? They look a bit cold. 

The first snow had fallen, third week into December. Alfie wrote out the NO in big, block letters to emphasize his message, then added the (you can knit some pot warmers) underneath, beside himself. 

A few hours later, a new paper awaited him. I have no idea how to knit—can I buy them online?

Sarcasm—that was the one thing Alfie forgot Tommy had difficulty grasping.

-

I don’t think this will come as a surprise, but I don’t really have anywhere to go for Christmas this year either. If you make the fruitcake, I can provide the tea and music (: 

Alfie had mentioned that he spent his holidays alone—seeing as he was an only child and both his parents had died—but it had been in passing, he refused to dwell. Tommy Shelby, always listening.

He read and reread the words, letting each one soak into his memory, chest tightening each time he reached the smiley.

Walnuts or no walnuts?