#what if you were a little guy who used to get a fever and constantly check your temperature because it was different! higher! lower! each

[quietwingsinthesky]

actually yeah you could sum up the two halves to even’s story that ive separated off from each other as “You cannot avoid change.” (joyous) and “You cannot avoid change.” (horror)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[narcjsistx]

Hii! I hope you're doing well! I love your account so much! Could you do Mikey taking care of sick reader? Thank you so much in advance!

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— Manjiro Sano takes care of you HCS ᡣ𐭩

Being stupid, at first he would make fun of you for getting sick, I mean, he never gets sick and you do? Unlucky!

Kind of guy who, after making fun of you, almost apologizes when he sees you annoyed. However, if anyone other than your friend or someone he knows you know dares to make fun of you, they can be considered dead. HE is your BOYFRIEND, he has some kind of special pass to do it!

He would tell you to come to his house to use his room or Emma's to rest, so as to have you all to himself for cuddles or in any case to take care of. If you can go, so be it, get ready for an extra marathon of kisses and hugs, but if you can't there's no problem, he'll come to your house and you'll do the same things there. He believes that having you sick is an advantage for spending more time together

He doesn't know exactly how it works when a person is sick... well, it's usually others who take care of him. So yes, be prepared to have Emma constantly on calls with her brother advising him on how to handle it like what medicines to give you, how to fix yourself in your bed if you're uncomfortable...

"Don't come next to me, you could get sick too" these are your famous last words before finding him like a koala pressed against you under the covers. Even if he got a fever he wouldn't care, he MUST be close to YOU, it's like a basic need like drinking water. Due to this, Toman's meetings will be suspended for a few days... at least until you feel a little better enough to make him feel comfortable if he leaves the house

Usually you're the only one he gives half of his taiyaki, but if you're sick he might even give up eating the sweet and give it all to you. It's quite a rare case actually, you'd practically have to be on the verge of death to get this grace from him, but the thought is appreciated... ig

The kind of guy who knows that your whole body is hot with fever, but wouldn't give up sleeping on your chest. He may wake up with a red face from the heat, but as long as he has rested on your chest which is his favorite place to rest, he doesn't mind the red face

To cheer you up a little when you're really down about being sick, he would bring the whole of Toman for you to enjoy. It has happened more than a few times that you fell asleep and when you woke up there were like twenty guys (including captains, vice captains and random members) in your room playing cards on the floor. Hearing you scream in surprise wasn't the exact reaction Mikey was expecting since he thought you would praise him in front of everyone for being such a thoughtful and attentive boyfriend (you did it later anyway)

[tiredfox64]

I was wondering if you could write about Smoke and the reader have already been married and they have kids of their own (2 or 3) and Kuai Liang and Harumi decided to give them a break by watching the kids while Tomas and the reader go on a date night and when they come back they see Kaui Liang and Harumi look exhausted and lost while the kids are being rambunctious? Lol

Never Again, Not Even for Cake

Prior notes: I’ve babysat my niece once. I ended up telling my fiancé my baby fever was gone. Still looking for it. (I’ll get to the other requests soon)

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: A child (no)

Ah yes, life’s pleasures. Fall in love, get married, have yourself a little family, the good stuff. Ah but hey, did anyone tell you have difficult kids could be?

Well, Tomas was a child once, but that doesn’t help. You did come from a large family, that helps. It was like living with bunnies. Even if you were the youngest there was always a cousin, niece, or nephew to help with. So you got the hang of this.

The first were a pair of twins, god help you. Two rambunctious boys who went behind their father’s back and learned smoke magic themselves. They aren’t skilled but they like to use it for pranks. And when they turned five, what do you think happened? That’s right! You fell pregnant again! This time with a baby girl.

So now you and Tomas have a family with a pair of six year old twins and a one year old baby girl. Take a guess, when was the last time you ever caught a break? Long time ago. That’s why Kuai Liang and Harumi stepped up and decided to babysit. That’s what good godparents do. You were a little skeptical since you never really knew how good they were with kids. But they constantly said it won’t be bad, you two need a break, you guys haven’t had a date in a while, etcétera etcétera. You caved, now the lovely couple stands in your home, ready to babysit.

“Are you sure you two can do this? You do realize the twins are sneaky? The little one found out she can grab things now.” You kept blabbering and Tomas had to reassure you.

“My love, I’m sure they will be fine. Kuai Liang helped raise me so I’m sure he can deal with the boys.”

“But-“

“We know the milk is in the fridge we just need to warm it up. She is teething so there are frozen teething toys in the freezer. The boys will eat anything and they like to sit down to watch Power Rangers.” Harumi quickly shut you down by going over some of the key points you told them.

“I still don’t think your use of the television is a great idea when calming the boys down.” Kuai Liang critiqued as if he has any say.

“It’s just a tv, Kuai Liang. Other parents do worse you have no idea.” You snapped back.

“Okay, love, I think we should get going. They look like they can handle themselves. Goodbye! Thank you again!” Tomas thanked his brother and sister in law before dragging you out of the house.

Finally a moment of freedom.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

A simple dinner alone was already a treat itself. Not having to force the twins to sit down, stop fighting, and just eat their food was a relief. Or your baby crying in the middle of the meal and having to listen for a good minute to figure out what she wants. The worst is when she’s just crying for no reason and you can’t do anything but let it pass.

There was none of that. Just you and Tomas having a yummy meal. It took you back to the time when you two were just dating. You could never really sit down since Tomas seemed paranoid he would be caught sneaking out of practice. He’d always scare you by popping out of no where from a puff of smoke. It wasn’t ever a big deal and he’d take your hand to go get some food. You commonly would steal from his plate whenever you could but you would give something back in return. A trade. He was happy to see that you still do that even when you guys are now married. You haven’t changed a bit and he was happy with that. Not even becoming a mother could suppress your personality.

You still look as gorgeous as the day he met you and he still looks so handsome. You never doubted your relationship with him. Never doubted marrying him or having kids with him. This date shows that there is a still a strong spark between you.

Not even when the dinner was done did the date truly end. You guys walked, talked, and laughed together. Never even a mention of the kids. Oh that’s right, the kids.

“It’s getting pretty late. You think we should start heading back? We did tell that that we would be out for three hours.” You suggested.

Tomas took a moment to think about it. Yes, it was getting pretty late. Late enough that the kids might need to be put down for bed soon. But…

“Nope, I think they will be okay with us being out for another hour. It’s not like the kids have anywhere important to be tomorrow so they can stay up late.” Eh, good enough, may the date go on!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You and Tomas felt more rejuvenated. All smiles and laughter. You even felt good enough to get Kuai Liang and Harumi a whole cheesecake as another thanks for babysitting. You of course had to get the twins their own slice or else they won’t even shut up.

What you didn’t expect is to walk into was pure chaos. Your motherly instincts kicked in the moment you heard the baby crying. A cry of pain, probably the teething. Ah but Harumi looks like she’s in more pain. The baby had a tight grip on her long hair. That’s what you forgot to tell her. The baby yanks so she should put her hair up. Well at least Kuai Liang was safe from that.

…never mind the boys got him. He looked like a shell of his former self. His bun was so close to unraveling. At least nothing was on fire so that means they didn’t trick him into using his powers.

You placed the desserts on the kitchen table before running to Harumi. You forced your baby girl to open her hands and let go of Harumi’s beautiful black hair. It looked all messy now when it’s usually all smoothed down. You opened the freezer door and popped in the first frozen teething toy you could see. Immediately the crying stopped and she was satisfied once more.

Poor Kuai Liang, the twins are yanking at him and asking him to do more tricks. What is it with boys and arson? Tomas came over quickly to yank them off him, holding them by the back of their shirts. Looking around you could see the living room was in shambles.

“What in the world happened here?!” You yelled out.

“Why didn’t you say anything about them using smoke magic?” Kuai Liang asked in a tired voice.

“We told you they were sneaky.” You said.

“That’s not-!” He stopped himself from screaming at you.

Tomas placed both boys down on the ground again before scolding them into apologizing and cleaning the living room up.

“I mean look, you lived. You still have head on your hair,” You pointed at Harumi, “And you still have your sanity in tact.” Referring to Kuai Liang.

That was a lie they look utterly exhausted. Traumatized even. You’ve never seen these two that disheveled before. Hell, not even you looked this way after giving birth to the twins. Though their looks didn’t stop Tomas from asking for something else.

“Thank you so much for taking care of the kids, Kuai Liang,” he pulled his brother in closely to whisper something, “Could you come back next week? I want to take her out again.”

Kuai Liang damn near looked like he would kill his brother. He didn’t say anything. He just took Harumi’s hand and went out the door. They didn’t even take the cheesecake. Oh well! More for the family!

After notes: I’m sorry if this seems disfuncional. I ended up crying during my speech today so I feel off. I’ll be done with this semester soon. Only three weeks to go. Adiós!

[celaenaeiln]

What's the deal with fanon Tim bc I read some comics with Tim and I've seen him in cartoons but all I see people talk about is "haha coffee addicted nerd who doesn't sleep!" and that just seems weird and wrong. Like my view of Tim has always been "he's a nice and extremely smart guy who sometimes pushes things a bit too far and maybe a bit set in his own ways/Batman's ways" but now I'm not even sure of that because I really haven't read THAT much (mostly seen him in other series) lol

No you're right!! Anon you're so right!!!

What the heck is up with fanon Tim Drake??

The thing about him not sleeping is actually true though

Detective Comics (2016) Issue #937

Batman: Contagion Issue #11

(I agree with Catwoman, Tim is so cute)

So I understand where the coffee addiction in fanon comes from but Tim's not actually addicted to coffee in the comics. I actually don't recall him mentioning coffee at all. At some point he might have but if he did, then those instances are so little in the grand scheme of things it might as well be called negligible if it's trying to be called an addiction.

But more importantly, Tim is so much more than that!! My favorite Tim Drake aspect of him is how sassy and sarcastic he is, it makes him so endearing!!

UGH NO ONE APPRECIATES HOW MUCH OF A LITTLE SHIT HE IS!!

Robin (1993) Issue #58

CMON CMON CMON LETS TALK MORE ABOUT THIS!!

Tim, you little shit, you know exactly what they say - cause you did it!!

HIS SELF-SATISFIED SMILE!!!

In all honesty I find Tim the funniest of the entire batfamily to read because he's so-he's so wholesomely quirky in a mean way. That's such as awkward way to describe it but reading his comics, you just can't get enough of them because he's just too funny!

At one point he has a massive fever and stuck underground with a bunch of weird kids and one of the girls is just like "please get better, please get some rest!" as she's wiping away his sweat and Tim has like no breath or energy at this point. But with the last remains of will power, he uses his breath to push one last question between lips.

Robin (1993) Issue #70

And as the audience waits in baited anticipation we get this-

Robin (1993) Issue #70

It's actually a very valid question and shows his detective thinking and yada yada yada but THE COMEDIC GOLD OF HIS TIMING!!

Like his situation and his question there's a massive gap that's almost incomprehensible about it all which is why it's so fantastic!!

The way he sasses batman is top 5 fav moments with him.

Azrael: Agent of the Bat Issue #91

Thanks @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 for finding it again <33

But Tim overall is just like a normal kid. He's what authors tried to do with Stephanie but failed. They were able to make him relatable to the audience because the way he acts, it's so quirky but funny. Yes, he's a boy detective genius but he likes messing with people, he likes solving crime, he likes hanging out with his big brother, he asks for relationship advice, he can get insecure, he can get upset without acting cold, he gets tired, he gets anxious, he's determined, and he's super dorky.

Robin (1993) Issue #25

Like really dorky.

But what I think really defines him is this panel

Robin (1993) Issue #48

This scene is probably what explains him best. Tim is someone who ponders a lot. He thinks constantly all the time whether it's about cases or his personal life, he just goes over the choices he makes constantly because he's just soul-searching alot.

He always means well even if he's awkward about it and he's just a diverse personality overall. The fanon interpretation of his character doesn't really do him any justice because it doesn't address how funny he is or confused or just a likeable, real person in general.

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Stand By Me

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader, platonic Jamie involved in one bit.

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s); general angst, the reader has an auto immune disease called lupus, one mention of blood, sorta-kinda-maybe smut if you squint.. but like.. not really.

I did some research, but because I didn’t want to cross any boundaries and be too wrong, I didn’t go into much depth over anything. I listened to too much Billy Joel while writing this. I’ve decided Billy Joel love ballads go well with Trev.

—————————————

Trevor Zegras as the world knew him:

The aggressive, egotistical, hotshot hockey player. Rough and tumble, always mouthy. The loud, constantly moving, big expressions and huge personality kind of guy.

Trevor as I knew him:

A kind, gentle, considerate boy. Who made sure he set my pill organizer out for me every morning before he went to practice. Who made sure we were always stocked up on prescribed lotions and ice packs. And would spring up from the couch at the first sign of a fever. And learned how to cook on nights when I was in so much pain I could hardly move.

It took forever to get officially diagnosed with lupus. Trevor had been there from the beginning, when symptoms first began. At first, we hadn’t thought much of it. I passed off body aches for period or ovulation issues. I assumed the rashes were allergic reactions, and the fevers were just random waves of California heat. We had been oblivious. When things got worse, I began seeing a doctor.

Test after test had been run through. I was prescribed various medications, some of which helped and others didn’t. But the ones that did help, never lasted long. Eventually, it got to the point that Trevor feared leaving me home alone. Especially on the days he would wake up, and I would be unable to pull myself out of bed. I hated it. He hated it. We feared the unknown.

As much as it overwhelmed me, I knew it overwhelmed Trevor too. All the road trips, calling me, feeling horrible for leaving and saying how he wanted me to call somebody at home if I needed them. He was scared, but it was knowing he wasn’t in control that freaked him out. I assumed that’s why he became so observant and vigilant when we finally did get a diagnosis. Because at last, he could control things. Not everything, but some things.

Trevor hadn’t been home the day I got the diagnosis from my doctor, but it gave me time to really figure things out on my own. I knew little about the autoimmune disease, and as much as I loved Trevor, I knew his endless questions would only overwhelm me more than this new information already did. So I did my own research, allowed myself time to process and cry. Come to terms, and eventually begin working on a game plan for myself.

When Trevor did come home, it was a process of sitting him down on the couch and talking him through it all with everything organized on my laptop. Trevor tried so hard to understand, but I knew it would be a lot of trial and visual learning for him. And I had been right.

“So.. so, this is what you have?” He pointed to the computer screen. I nodded. “And.. it’s permanent?”

“Yeah, babe.” Trevor nodded. He tried to understand. What did autoimmune mean? What was Lupus? Why did it have to have so many big words attached to it?

“So.. where does all the treatment start?”

“Do you have to take medicines?”

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“We can still be together, right?”

“This is a lot.”

I answered most of the questions, at least the ones I knew answers to. The others I promised to answer when I knew what to say.

Trevor got so tense with himself when he was home. We used to be a pretty rambunctious couple, but after I got prescribed blood thinners, and the body aches got worse, a lot of that changed. Trevor became far more timid around me, and at first he was as gentle as a toddler when touching a newborn baby. I helped set the pace for what was okay and what wasn’t.

“T, lemme see that ribbon.” I reached across the living room floor. I tried to snatch up the red ribbon before his hand flew out to take it.

“Let me curl the ribbon.” Something I had always done during Christmases. But it involved open scissors.

“Trevor, it’s fine…”

“Yeah but.. what if you cut yourself? Just teach me how to do it.”

Outside and inside of the bedroom, we set paces together.

“Should I- maybe…” Trevor shifted, causing me to groan. Worst time to ask questions is when you’re already in somebody.

“Trevor.. you don’t have to be so gentle.” I reached up to rest a hand on his forearm. “Why don’t I take the lead this time?” He relented and turned us over. He feared hurting me even when he didn’t do much.

“I’ll be fine, okay? Just pay attention. I promise I’ll tell you if it ever hurts, or if something is wrong.”

I’d always told Trevor that he did extremely well, but he wasn’t perfect. I didn’t expect him to be. And accidents happened.

“Babe?” Sometimes the rashes simply broke out over night.

“Trevor, Shh.” I tried to roll away from him, but when his fingers ghosted over the irritated skin on my face, I gasped at the feeling.

“Fuck- T!” I scolded, my eyes opened immediately.

He hated when he felt like he messed up. I hated when I scolded him for things he didn’t mean to do.

“…I told Jamie you weren’t feeling good anyway, so he went out without us.” Trevor had been rambling for a while, both of us in the bathroom doing our own thing. He was busy grabbing an extra roll of paper towels from the cabinet under the sink. I was trying to brush my teeth. I attempted to step out of the way when Trevor harshly pushed the cabinet door shut, but the corner skinned my calf anyway. I gasped, and managed to choke on toothpaste in the process.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Trevor was frantic all evening over my leg, apologizing over and over. After we got the arguably minimal amount of bleeding to stop, he still peeled back the bandages every so often to make sure everything was okay. I had to tell Trevor we were wasting bandaids.

The days when I felt absolutely disgusted with myself were the worst. I hadn’t lost all my hair, but it certainly thinned. And I hated looking in mirrors when my rashes got so bad that my skin would crack and bleed. Showers became hell. Trevor started to take them with me more often.

“It’s okay, baby.” He ran his hands through my hair, never commenting on the tiny strands that would remain on his hands long after he pulled them away. I stood tucked into his chest, arms folded up between us, fully enveloped by him.

My flawless boyfriend.

“I know it irritates.” Washing my body was the hardest on days when the rashes were all over. The dry skin never took well to the water, even if it provided a momentary relief.

There were days Trevor wouldn’t even bother with a washcloth. He would put the body wash on his hands and run them over my body from top to bottom. It made me cry. I would never understand how one emotion caused him to completely shift his personality around me.

Love was a powerful feeling, I suppose.

Love turned Trevor from a rambunctious loud, abrasive guy. Into a completely devoted and caring man. A gentle, expressive, and considerate man.

“We’re almost done,” he whispered as he ran his hands down my legs, kissing the patchy skin on my calves and ankles. I found the rashes were always the worst on my ankles after I wore shoes for long periods of time. The tongues of said shoes always rubbed my skin uncomfortably. I had to buy longer socks to help with that.

After Trevor finished lathering my body in wash, he’d trail his hands back up and all over. Sometimes I was lucky enough to sit on the lip of the tub while he shaved my legs. Times when my body hurt too bad to stand very long, or even bend over, he offered to help. Those moments he often found it easiest to make jokes and cheer me up.

“Haven’t mowed the lawn in a long time, eh?” He mumbled with a cheeky grin as he knelt in front of me, pulling my foot up onto his thigh while the other hand reached for my shaving cream. I giggled and ruffled his wet hair. Sometimes I found his comments embarrassing, but he was a guy. He was bound to find the weirdest statements amusing.

“I love you so much, T.” I whispered while his nose was scrunched and his brow was furrowed, face inches from my knee as he tried hard not to cut it with the razor. Hands that used to pinch and gently smack me when he was teasing or play fighting. Hands that used to throw me around like a rag doll after I challenged him to a wrestling match, now so light and tender. Like I was fine china.

Trevor also learned that dab-drying worked better for my skin than rubbing the towel all over my body after showers. It got the job of drying done, but it was far easier on my body.

I loved the tactic, but what I loved even more was the little sounds he’d make while he did it. They always made me laugh. Trevor always found a way to make our abnormal routines funny or cute. He always wanted to distract me from the fact that our lives were different.

After he’d finish drying my body, he’d whisk me away into the bedroom and how I felt usually dictated what we did next.

If I was tired, we’d take a nap. In pain, he’d give me one hell of a massage. The occasions I ended up horny? Trevor fixed that too.

And through Trevor’s learning, Jamie picked up on things too. When Trevor was on road trips and I was stuck with Jame, I learned I could lean on him. He was always one call away when I needed him. Even if it meant yelling across the house.

“Jamie!”

“I’m coming!” His thudding and rushed footsteps always endeared me.

“Hey!”

At times he’d find me on the floor.

“Hey, what happened?” He rushed to my side, helped me up slowly, and assured himself that I wasn’t injured.

“Guess I just can’t walk today…” I mumbled, embarrassed. The joint pain was always the worst to handle when I needed to be active.

“Alright.. what do you need to me to do?”

I found that Jamie was still on the ‘what do you needs?’ While Trevor already knew seconds in advance. And Trevor was far more confident with my illness than Jamie was.

He’d often text Trevor on my bad days to let him know. He’d also sit with me on the couch, never too touchy, not wanting to cross any lines. But when we’d sit at opposite ends -watching anything on the tv- occasionally, he’d pull my feet into his lap and gently rub them or my legs.

When Trevor would return from those long road trips, he’d always see me and tend to my needs and profess his love, before asking if I needed new pills, or if I needed him to stop by the store for anything. He’d been a domestic disaster before I got my diagnosis. Now, he was one of the most domestic guys I knew.

“This is it? Everything on this list?”

“All the groceries we need for the week. Yup.”

“Okay.. did you ask Jamie if he wanted anything?” I smiled and nodded. We were always taking care of Jamie.

“The store bought cookies are for him. And the purple Gatorade.”

“Okay. I’ll be back. Then I’m making dinner.”

Those words brought a huge smile to my face.

“Can’t wait, Trev.”

Sometimes I would go with him, but only on days when I felt on top of the world. Usually I tried to spend those days going out, but Trevor was always afraid I’d overdo it.

On those good days when he turned out to be right, he never told me so, or shook his head or laughed at me. He’d simply welcome me home with open arms and a sympathetic expression. Because he knew how much I missed my normality. How much I missed my old life.

And often times when I dwelled too much on that, he was always there.

“You’re beautiful. And I love you so much. And I’m happy with where we are right now. I’m happy to look after you, and love on you, and I’m happy you let me stand by you.”

His confessions were often spoken whispers in the darkness of our bedroom at night. Or on the rooftop. He hated when I went up there alone, but he still found me there from time to time.

He sat behind me, pulled me against his back between his legs, and wrapped his arms around me.

“We’re doing this together. I’ve been here from day one, and I’m not leaving now. I’m already in too deep.” He smiled. His breathy laugh would make me giggle.

“I’ve already seen too much.” He added with a playful touch of horror in his tone. I reached behind myself to slap his chest. I knew he was genuine. I knew he loved me. And I hoped he would never leave me. He always told me he was there until our last days on this earth. Until we both ceased to exist.

“I promise I’m sticking around. Me and Jambo. But mostly me.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[fangirl-docintraining]

Do you have any cannons about the characters if they got the flu? I feel like Betty would be a terrible patient not wanting to be taken care of since she’s used to caring for people, same with Darry 😂 But soda and two bit would loveeee the attention

The last time I got the flu was in high school and lemme tell yall I was miserable

Darry

He tries to power through when he starts to feel sick but he gets so over exhausted by like 3 pm he’s forced to lay down and sleep

He sorta isolates himself, not because he wants to be left alone, but because he doesn’t want the gang to see him like that (he’s being stupid)

He does however opt to mostly isolate himself to his room partially because all he has the energy to do is lay in bed, but also he’s not wanting the whole house to get sick

He is very stubborn about letting Betty help, but he very much wants her attention because I think all three Curtis brothers really crave like attention and physical touch when they’re sick

Soda

He will feel like shit and still be yapping

He’s definitely one who’s constantly asking people for something. Like one second he asks for food, five minutes later he wants a cold wash cloth, two minutes after that he wants arm rubs like he’s just a bit needy

He hates being sick because he wants to cuddle people and he knows he shouldn’t be he feels even worse when he’s just laid up in bed alone

Darry sorta resigns himself to letting soda be set up on the couch when he’s sick during the day because Soda is so miserable if he stays in bed. Darry just prays that everyone else’s immune systems hold on

Ponyboy

Sorta canon but when bro gets truly sick he goes down bad

He scares Darry and Soda because he gets delirious very easily when he runs a fever and sometimes he just says wild stuff and it takes them a minute to realize

He very much wants cuddles and someone to play with his hair because that’s what their mom did for them when they were sick (tbh all three of them want this when they’re sick)

Insists that medicine just makes him feel worse and doesn’t want it so Darry usually has to really cajole him into taking stuff

Two Bit

Dramatic AF

He’s definitely gonna remind everyone he’s sick every other sentence

He also will like talk about how he’s dying and he can see the light etc and really put on the dramatics because he’s trying to distract himself

I think his mom doted on him when he doesn’t feel well, but if hen doesn’t wanna be alone during the day when she’s working he will usually get all bundled up on the Curtis couch and watch cartoons

Steve

Ponyboy look out Steve’s patience is gone

Honestly I feel like Steve genuinely just wants to sleep it off. Like he’ll wake up for an hour and eat something and then just force himself to sleep again

He HATES just sitting in bed or on a couch awake so he just defaults to sleeping

He usually is one that rides out the flu in a room because he doesn’t like it when the guys get too noisy it makes him cranky

Johnny

Johnny doesn’t get quite as bad as Ponyboy but when he’s sick he looks SICK

He also shivers so bad when he’s running a fever Darry usually has to get like multiple blankets around him to try and help

Unlike Ponyboy he’s begging for cold medicine because genuinely feels better right after each dose and he hates it when it wears off

He will get snippy if the gang gets too loud because it makes his head hurt but he likes being around people on the couch when he’s sick because he hates being alone

Dally

He will insist the entire time he is not sick

I think knowing him, having the attention of people trying to look after him feels worse. He wants to be left alone. Don’t rub his back if he’s puking, and don’t try to touch him when he’s sick.

He definitely holes up in bed and probably tries to sleep it off kinda like Steve does. But Steve will allow the guys to check on him and offer him food. Dally wants as little human contact as possible

Betty

Oh girl hates being sick she’s someone who just cries when she can’t get comfortable so she gets pretty miserable when she’s running a fever

She’s an isolate to bed kinda person, she doesn’t really want to talk and interact with people because her patience is at its worst and she’s just exhausted

She likes having someone near her, BUT she doesn’t really like too much physical contact. It was a learning curve for Darry because his default is just all the physical comfort things and constant physical contact like cuddling, playing with hair, rubbing arm or back because that’s what he and his brothers want.

She knows he’s trying to help but there’s times when she gets overstimulated by too much touch when she’s sick and when that happens in the nicest way she can (but she’s really irritable and tired) asks him to stop because she’s just so overstimulated (he was very confused the first time)

This was very long and just rambling after my 12 hour shift I hope yall enjoy 😂

[miruac]

dating tenya iida headcanons - part four

masterlist

navigation

1 | 2 | 3

warnings: not proofread!!!! also afab reader?? period mentions

a/n: GUYS...DID YOU MISS ME...🤪 should totally be studying rn BUT HERE WE GOOO(i think im gonna fail my test)

taglist: @yumejoshihimejoshi

where were we OH YEAH OKAY so basically, when you guys come home from the break, he literally carries in all your things wowww what a gentleman

ok back to general hcs bc i get too carried away with storylines

everyone writes iida as like someone who doesnt have access to technology but he sure as hell does

i feel like he would barely understand brainrot or he knows what they all mean bc he gets curious and goes on a deep dive

nontheless when you hear him skibidi in such a serious voice you literally choke on your spit im SERIOUS 😭

if you wanted to do a silly little tiktok trend he would do it with you but obv not the ones that are like "sending my man a spicy picture and posting his reaction" BC THATS LITWRALLT SMTH PRIVATE AND PEOPLE SHOULDNT POST THAT???(sorry guys im a bit passionate about this)

he tries to dance but hes so...stiff....

but its okay!!! he makes it up by spoiling you

idk if i wrote it before but hes such a good HUGGER

obv at first he's stiff, but HES SO BEEFY

my logic is muscle = beef = pillow

god its so...omg im drooling...like he's so soft when he relaxes...his hugs are so tight...i love them...

hes also so warm wtf like in winter youre literally clinging onto him

prolly bc he has to keep moving so his engines dont stall when its too cold outside

this boy is a workaholic someone save him

you physically have to drag him away from his work and give him some tea or snacks

he gets all grumpy when you do but hes eternally grateful bc he'd spiral and probably pull all nighters like in a row

i think i alr wrote about this but when iidas sleepy, HE GETS CLINGYYYY

god its so cute like when you guys are cuddling before bed and hes all sleepy, hes like a big baby i wanna hold him and kiss all over his face AHHHH

hes a snorer. im sorry. have you guys seen how hard he works like he is knocked out and SNORING

hes not that loud of a snorer but its not completely quiet

youre able to fall asleep tho

guys i literally was bedridden with an unknown illness like last month and i still have a stuffy nose

when youre sick, iida would do his best and TRY to nurse you to health

he's used to taking care of himself when he's sick, so how hard could it be to take care of you?

it was hard. especially if your fever kept fluctuating and medicine didnt work

he would stay up late and constantly wipe your forehead with a cold rag

ive been DYING to read and write headcanons of iida when reader is on their period

if you have BAD bad cramps(like mine where you're unable to move and you end up dry heaving), he'll be your human heat warmer

he hates to see you in pain so he tries to accomodate to your every need and request

you want snacks? hes buying them, you want cuddles? youre in his arms. you need pads or tampons? he'll buy them for you he is NOT ashamed

ok back to regular headcanons(lowk this is just shit id want to do with him)

on lazy days, you guys would do movie dates in each others rooms

he gets a little distracted sometimes and just stares at your face

youre just so pretty while youre watching so intently, hes stunned

the light from your laptop shining on your face makes you look unreal to him

so down bad that he doesnt realize he's getting closer and closer, and when you turn your head you guys accidentally smooches

that...that kinda turns into a makeout sesh..

ok listen hear me out. messy makeout sessions with nerds where they end up with their hair all messy, glasses crooked, face flushed and lips swollen and eyes heavy

MMMMMMMMMM IM SO FERALLLL I LOVE NERDSSSSS I LOVE MY SMARTY PANTS

hes so awooga

valentines day is soon!!!! your first valentines!!!!

hes so excited but also scared because he doesnt know if youll like his gift

he made you a little gift basket with your favourite snacks, things youve been talking about, etc etc and a little card

inside the card was him talking about how happy you make him and what he would do to be with you always :(( such a cutie pie i love him

am i delusional? yeah lets ignore that LOL!!!!

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

hi guys!!! its been a while, how r yall doing?? sorry for being inactive, selfcare is TIME consuming(also school but im so burnt out 😭) i hope you all like this chapter!!! see you all next time ♡

[ladykailitha]

Little Runaway Part 5

Oh god, guys. I love you all. I got so many comments on the last one. I love writing smart Steve. He needs more credit than he gets. And once I’m done with it, I think you guys are going to love Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town, it’s Eddie and the rest of the D&D loving nerds learning the depths of Steve. Also I love tagging people but for my sanity I’m going to have to top it at 20. So I only have 6 more slots.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The unfortunate thing was that actual police work took time, and between Eddie running interference for Steve and Dustin, and Wayne doing what he could to keep Clint Harrington off the scent, it still gave Steve cabin fever.

“At least in my car, I was constantly moving,” Steve grumbled as Eddie got ready for another D&D session.

“You know I can’t bring you,” Eddie replied from the floor where he was sorting through his notes. “Ted Wheeler would squeal on your ass so fast.”

Steve groaned and threw his head back on the bed. His ribs had almost healed and the bruises had faded. And now that he was getting actual sleep at night he was becoming restless.

“Read or something,” Eddie murmured.

Steve looked over at the small bookshelf in the corner warily. “It’s all fantasy, though.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Eddie asked, looking up at him sharply.

“Isn’t it all princesses and dragons and fairy tale stuff?” Steve asked.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “No. I don’t know what fantasy you’ve read, but you are reading the wrong stuff, man.”

He stretched out, leaning up on his knees to reach a book off the shelf. Steve bit his lip and forced himself to look at anything but the long line of Eddie’s body, his shirt riding up to show a sliver of his taut belly.

Eddie sat back down and Steve could breath again.

“Here, start with this one,” he said, handing it over.

Steve took the book and turned it over. “The Hobbit?”

“Yup!” Eddie said. “It short, it’s got a great story, and it’s one of the best fantasy out there.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

Eddie stood up with a bounce. “I’ve got to go, I’ll catch you later. Wayne’s got the late shift, so you’ll have the place to yourself for a bit, depending on how late we run tonight.”

Steve nodded, already cracking open the book to start.

Eddie grinned and hurried out to his van. A van that was running much better now that Steve had looked it over. With any luck, the piece of shit would keep running long enough for Eddie to replace it.

He made over the to the Wheelers, their summer time host for the Hellfire Club. They were the only ones that had a basement big enough for the three campaigns that were being run to gather at the same time.

He had barely sat down when there was a ruckus upstairs followed by a very angry Clint Harrington stomping down the stairs.

Dustin hid behind Lucas, who just eyed him confused, but let him hide anyway.

“Where is my son!” Clint bellowed. “I know he plays this devil game! You bring him out to me this instant!”

Eddie stands up and if it had been quiet before, now it was deafeningly silent. Everyone in that room had seen Eddie at the top of his game standing on tables in lunchrooms.

“Mr Harrington I presume,” he began with a mocking bow.

“You’re that Munson kid, right?” Clint said, turning on Eddie.

“In the flesh,” Eddie said, smile slowly spreading over his features. “Your son isn’t here. King Steve wouldn’t deign to mix with the likes of us.”

Dustin glared around Lucas, but Eddie winked. He ducked back behind the tall basketball player.

“Don’t you lie to me!” Clint roared. “I’ve seen the magazine!”

“And it had his name on and everything?” Eddie asked calmly, tilting his head and eyeing the man sidelong.

“It doesn’t have to!” Clint snarled. “He could have picked up at any store.”

“Or it could have been left there by any of his friends,” Eddie pointed out. “Speaking of which, Mr Harrington, who are Steve’s friends?”

“You think I don’t know who my son hangs out with?” Clint bit out.

“You thought he was playing D&D without you knowing...” Eddie said reasonably.

Clint snarled and turned on his heel, stomping back up the stairs in a fury.

Karen came down and apologized to them all. “I don’t know where he got the idea Steve was into D&D.”

But everyone knew that it was Ted that had told Clint about them holding D&D here.

“It’s fine, Mrs Wheeler,” Eddie said with soft smile. “Just some asshole wanting to rage at something.”

Karen pressed her lips together, but merely nodded before heading back upstairs.

Once she was gone Dustin came running up to Eddie.

“That was my magazine!” he cried. “I did this to Steve!”

Eddie grabbed his face and said, “No you didn’t. Mr Harrington has been hurting Steve for a long time. If it wasn’t the magazine, it would have been something else. You hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And that’s when the entire Hellfire Club erupted.

Everyone was firing questions at Eddie and Dustin.

“Calm down everyone!” Eddie shouted over the din. Once everyone had quieted he said. “Look, his dad beat the shit out of Steve, but he was able to get away. He is fine, just laying low so his dad doesn’t find him. And things are being done to make sure his dad never hurts him again.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell us?” Will asked. “It’s been two weeks. We were really worried about him.”

“Because the more people who knew what happened,” Dustin said, “the more he would be in danger.”

Everyone turned to Dustin.

“Who else knows?” Lucas asked.

“Just me and Dustin,” Eddie said. “And I only know because I could stash Steve where he wouldn’t be found by his dad.”

There was some muttering, but everyone seemed to agree it was the best course of action.

“Come on, guys,” Mike said. “Let’s start playing.”

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood,” Jeff murmured.

Eddie shook his head. “To hell with that. We’re going to play to show that asshole that he doesn’t get dictate what we find fun.”

There was some grumbling and it seemed like Mr Harrington was going to win when Erica spoke up.

“Hey, Eddie, can we name the evil wizard Hint Clarrington?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Hell yeah we can!”

That got everyone else laughing and in the mood to play again.

Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

Tag List: @yikes-a-bee @satan-is-obsessed @silversnaffles @marvelousforlife @goblin-eddie @moonage-daydreaming  @knightofthieves @homohomohoe  @books-are-my-life-since-1996 @yearningagain @sadcanadianwinter @steve-the-hairrington @flusteredcas @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[prettyoddfever]

"SWEAR TO SHAKE IT UP."

(I'm going to dump some points in this post that I can link to elsewhere)

Ryan might have gone through a lot of phases and changed as a person over the years, but that didn’t alter the very basic ideas of what he wanted out of a band and how he approached things. (So his end goals didn’t change much… but the means to accomplish them absolutely did). Ryan wanted to push boundaries, do something different, shake things up, challenge listeners, create something real that was authentic to who he was at that moment in time, and keep experimenting instead of settling into a rut of what was comfortable/familiar. He had zero interest in following a crowd, catering to listeners, or trying to be likable. Ryan talked a lot about these views & goals in the early Fever era in a way that was almost defiant.

Here are some posts with more comments about AFYCSO & Pretty. Odd... I’ll leave a few of Ryan’s quotes here:

to AbsolutePunk.net in fall 2005: “If I could do anything to change the scene it would be to wake everyone up.”

to Big Cheese in early 2006: “Years back, bands were a lot better. Nowadays, I don’t know what happened. There’s this lack of effort to be different. We just want to open people’s eyes a little bit, and if we fail? What are you gonna do. Fuck it.” (obviously he romanticized the olden days even more as time went on).

in early 2006: “It’s always been our intention to write songs that haven’t already been written a thousand times by hundreds of other bands and to really push ourselves. Maybe we can wake kids up and get them listening to more sincere music.”

Nylon asked Ryan in spring 2006 how he would sum up his band in one line and Ryan said “it was our goal to open people’s eyes and change what’s going on.”

to MTV in September 2006: ”I feel like everything on the radio is kind of safe right now.”

in a Danish interview in October 2006: “But if you don’t gamble, you end up being boring or nothing at all. And we do not want to be a safe band, neither with our songs nor our shows.”

to the Miami Herald in late 2006: “We’re trying to do things to make a difference in what rock music is seen as right now.”

what Ryan said here in December 2006 is a good example of what he talked a lot about for both albums.

in this June 2007 interview Ryan was asked where he wants to end up and he said “It’s hard to say at this point. I never thought we’d get this far. I think the biggest challenge for [us as] artists these days is making great music that’s challenging for us and for people to hear.”

this piece that Ryan wrote for NME in summer 2008.

Neither Spencer nor Ryan were very subtle in early Fever era about their disdain for the modern music scene and the people who they thought were faking it (the kind of stuff that I Constantly Thank God for Esteban addressed). They both had incredibly strong opinions. My favorite description of the guys was an article in The Boston Phoenix that said “Panic are incredibly ambitious, surprisingly cynical, and mildly ruthless.”

I thought that their arrogance and defiant attitudes helped them succeed in 2006 when they had the chance. So many people were criticizing them, but Ryan, Brendon, & Spencer (and eventually Jon) were able to stand their ground together and work incredibly hard so they could actually perform at the levels where their rapidly accelerating popularity brought them. Ryan also talked a lot about how he didn’t want to write songs that were catchy or would sell… he wanted to write what he liked. Ryan had the ability to just keep moving forward & doing whatever he liked, regardless of what other people were saying about it. And that approach worked really well in 2005-2006 when the guys were on the same page for what they wanted to do.

THEY GO ALL IN

I thought one of P!ATD’s biggest strengths right from the start was their incredibly strong creative vision and how they were willing to take major risks in order to do whatever felt the most authentic to them at the time (which was true for both albums). They didn’t have some rigid plan for their whole look or sound… they said they just wanted to do whatever felt honest at that point. Even if that meant trying to trash the first part of AFYCSO in the studio when they decided they didn't want to follow that sound anymore lol (bless Matt Squire for stepping in).

Spencer told the Hartford Courant in spring 2008 that “We just know what we like and what we don’t like. We do exactly what we like, so we feel like it’s our band.” I thought all four guys had a noticeable need to feel a sense of ownership in the band & do something that they completely believed in.

I agreed with what their booking agent told Pollstar in summer 2006: “What amazes me about them is that they have such a strong opinion of how they want to be presented – visually, musically, everything. I don’t find that with a lot of bands.” They cared about how they were presented on every single level… their videos, live shows, website, etc. They picked a direction and then completely went for it in every aspect.

So they showed from the beginning that if they were going to head in a certain direction, they weren’t going to do it halfway. They didn’t seem like they’d ever be happy with anything less than their full effort. The guys also cared about what the band did to the point where they actually invested the majority of their own incomes from the 2006 summer tour right back into the shows. On a similar note – when Kerrang asked teenage Brendon how he would spend a million pounds if he couldn’t give any away, Brendon replied that he’d put it all into the production value of a huge, dramatic show. So not only did he love doing that kind of performance, but he was really personally invested.

We could see by 2008 that all four guys needed to be fully & personally invested in what the band was doing in order to be happy. They needed to go all in. Music meant so much to each band member that it seemed like it was a personal part of them. It's understandable why any rejection of each other’s ideas would’ve struck so deep.

Brent was the only member who could have passively drifted along with whatever the other guys decided to do. Ryan, Spencer, Brendon, and Jon all had strong opinions, lots of big ideas, and were heavily invested in their careers. Music meant a lot to them. This setup was a huge asset when they were all working towards the same goal in the Fever era, but it also looked like a recipe for conflict because obviously all four guys wouldn’t always have the same interests & goals as they grew. Ryan told MTV right after the split that “it got to the point where there might have been too many cooks in the kitchen.”

RYAN WANTED TO KEEP REINVENTING THE BAND

Ryan seemed to be one of those people who will create something awesome but then tear it down & rebuild it an entirely different way in order to challenge himself and keep things interesting. The whole band made a lot of comments over the years about how they wanted to try new things so they didn’t get bored, but the way Ryan talked about it was a bit different… as though continually pushing the boundaries was at the foundation of what he needed from a band. In 2008 Ryan told Rock Sound a story about his childhood that revealed the same restless creativity & curiosity that a lot of fans were noticing (in a good way):

“When I got a new guitar I decided to take the old one apart to see what was inside and never figured out how put it back together again. I used to take a lot of stuff apart when I was younger and stopped once I realized that when I took something apart it was broken and couldn’t be fixed.”

I’m not referencing much post-split stuff since I’m just trying to describe what we were seeing at the time. However, I really like this quote from Rob Mathes to Alt Press in 2011 because he knew Ryan well, and both guys seemed to understand & respect each other:

“Ryan Ross is a tremendous artist but a very restless soul. He wants to continually push himself. It’s very John Lennon-esque – burn the house you just lived in only to build a new one and then burn that one. Certain artists are that way: They want to set up shop and leave town. I think [Urie and Smith] missed what they had.”

In spring 2008 Ryan said that “Panic at the Disco is not defined yet. We’re barely started… who knows where we’re gonna go.” Ryan and Jon focused more in interviews that year on how Panic at the Disco didn’t have an established concept of their specific sound, as though they really didn’t want to be trapped with expectations or limits.

Experimenting and reinventing the band(s) worked really well in the early years when the guys didn’t have enough experience to know the specifics of what they wanted from a band beyond doing “something new” (I’m including The Summer League in this since Brendon was part of that for a bit before they totally switched gears to create P!ATD together). But obviously the guys would eventually be able to identify what made them happiest after a couple years of playing different types of shows & music.

THEY WERE AN INEXPERIENCED BAND WHO HAD TO FIGURE OUT THEIR SOUND/IMAGE AS THEY WENT 

The band wasn’t sure what they wanted to sound like at first, which is why AFYCSO was split into two halves. Their sound was continuously evolving as they grew up. By summer 2005 Ryan was more into movie soundtracks, and that theatrical orchestration worked really well with the kinds of music that Spencer & Brendon were into. In the early days I think it was actually super helpful that they had somewhat different taste in music because they could build off each other as they figured out wtf they wanted to try next. This interview quote from Brendon to Hearts & Sleeves in early 2006 sums up a lot of what the band said on that topic:

“The way it comes out I guess is just a product of everybody in the band having huge similarities in music but we also listen to a lot of different stuff. For example Spencer listens to Fleetwood Mac and then will jump over and listen to Arcade Fire. I listen to the same stuff but then Iʼll listen to Journey more or some pop stuff. Or Ryan listens to movie scores or theatrical stuff. A lot of that was Ryan would pop up and be like ‘I think it could do this’ and Iʼd be like ‘whoah’ and Iʼd add some pop to it. Itʼs just a mix of different combinations of where we come from. Having only written maybe two songs together we didn’t know what direction we wanted to go with the band or how we wanted to sound.”

The band had no established image, sound, or fanbase when they were signed, so they were able to figure out the first album as they went. Their situation was drastically different while they were writing the second album, but it sounded like they still weren’t sure what they wanted to do by summer 2007 (after the cabin album wasn’t working out). All four guys talked about not knowing which direction to go in, but here’s a quote from Spencer to the Hartford Courant in 2008: "We didn’t really know what we were trying to do… I think we really went to some of these bands that I had listened to growing up.” Just because they went with a certain direction in July 2007 doesn’t mean that there’s anything strange about the fact that they weren’t on the same page a year later for what they wanted to do with the third album. Look at how the first It’s Time to Dance demo in fall 2004 was so different from what the band wanted to do by the time they got to the studio in summer 2005. I’d argue that Build God had more in common with the cabin album than the demos from fall 2004.

Basically, they didn’t stick with one specific style for either AFYCSO or Pretty. Odd. because they wanted to be free to experiment and try whatever seemed interesting at the time. They were constantly evolving. Letting the sound of the band be that fluid was a strength in the early years, but it seemed like it could also evolve into a source of conflict as the guys gradually got a stronger sense of what they each liked & wanted.

side note: in 2008 Brendon, Jon, and Spencer still had some of the same main interests that they had when they joined the band. Jon still loved the Beatles and Bob Dylan. Spencer still talked about liking the Beatles, Queen, & the Killers. Brendon still loved Queen, Journey, the Beatles, and show tunes (here’s something Ryan had to say about that). Ryan was the one whose tastes changed the most as he discovered more & more.

THE BAND CHANGED A LOT EACH SEASON

They seriously felt like a new band every few months… and that’s not even considering them as people. Just look at where the band was at the end of each year:

end of 2003: The Summer League was preparing to record some demos. They hadn’t met Brendon yet.

end of 2004: Panic! at the Disco was unofficially signed by Pete Wentz and needed to write an album now. They had still never played a live show as that band.

end of 2005: AFYCSO was out and P!ATD had already finished two national tours supporting other bands + a string of headlining shows. They were finally out of their van, were preparing for their first national tv performance and first international tour (supporting The Academy Is…), and were dreaming of what they could possibly do with their own headlining tours.

end of 2006: The Fever era was done. P!ATD ended the year by headlining NBC’s New Year’s Eve show in Times Square. The entire Moulin Rouge / circus whirlwind was over (along with the peak of the pre-split fame & hype). 2006 was intense.

end of 2007: they were almost done recording Pretty. Odd. and we were getting glimpses of what the next era might look like. (2007 felt like its own long era btw).

end of 2008: the Pretty. Odd. era had already ended. It went for less than a year, but seems like it should be broken up into 2-3 phases since the band changed so much in 2008.

Pre-split P!ATD only performed together for less than 4 years and they changed a lot even on a monthly basis. A performance from spring 2006 only reflects that one season (and honestly, the guys grew/changed a lot just between late March & mid-April alone). January 2006 was incredibly different from fall 2005... so summer 2005 when they recorded AFYCSO was like a whole other era by comparison.

I remember feeling like P!ATD had been 5 different bands during just the Fever era alone because of how much the band changed as they grew. They evolved a lot during the other years as well, which is why you can’t look at interviews from the Pretty. Odd. era as though those are some kind of context for the season when the band split. That’s like looking at interviews from late 2006 where the band was gearing up for the NRWC tour and then saying that something seems fishy because their statements about wanting to put on a dramatic show don’t line up with what you’re seeing from the band half a year later when they kept things really low-key, ditched the makeup, and actually wore jeans. The band members are complex real-life people who were constantly growing & changing... especially Ryan.

[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

I'm so glad I found your account! You guys are very talented <33

I know canonically Mortdecai isn't, uh, amazing with kids but what if a Marigold members daughter started hanging around the building (like Ivy did when she was younger) and she reminded Mortdecai of one of his sisters (Esthers moodiness or Roses cheeriness)? I'd love some headcanons about the scenario^^

I wasn't going to write this until later but I absolutely had to jump ahead of schedule and write this because it nagged at my mind almost all week. You even started an AU for the other mods and I, anon. This little idea is so tasty and adfghfgferhrj

You are the biggest brain and I hope you don't mind that me and Iphiko (and maybe even Rory!) had a little taste of this drink ourselves first. Different bottle, don't worry, we haven't touched any of what's in your hand right now

Also thank you so much for your kind words! I'm really glad you guys are enjoying these things (as if the inbox flooding wasn't proof enough), it makes us Lackadaisy Moonshiners so happy and gives me an excuse to keep writing. You're all awesome!

At first, it almost stings. He still remembers Ivy, after all; her wandering around following Viktor or whoever caught her eye whenever she could. It was cute. Adorable, even.

But Mordecai seems to be the target of this little beast's attention. And no amount of waving her off, gently pushing her away with his foot or annoyed threats will get her to pick someone else.

The Savoys are enamored with the little bugger. Serafine started calling her "Bébé Couteau" (Baby Knife) after being allowed to teach her some knife tricks (why Asa let them put a knife in the hands of a kitten, Mordecai will never know) and Nico picked up the habit of startling the little girl by picking her up and spinning with her...Which slowly evolved into throwing her across the bloody bar into Serafine's arms after an accident that resulted in the kitten getting yeeted by a distracted Nico (apparently she loved it (and to Serafine's credit, she ran like Hell to catch her); so it's not exactly safe but it's okay??)

Several speakeasy attendees mistake her to be Mordecai's kitten since she's always hanging around him (and especially so if she's a Tuxedo cat). It probably doesn't help that he loudly objects to the twins throwing the kitten back and forth like a football and has even ripped her out of their arms once or twice

They also (correctly) assume that he calls the shots when it comes to her. If she's making trouble or is heading somewhere that she shouldn't be, someone has to work up the courage to tell that ferocious shadow of Asa's. It's him, the queen cat that looks like she's constantly considering stabbing you or the heartthrob at the bar vicious son of a bitch who always looks like he knows that he's better than you

It's an unspoken rule between the three that Mordecai's word is law when it comes to the kitten. He hates this and is sure that they just use this as another excuse to tease him.

Asa scares the Hell out of the poor little thing. He tried greeting her once and she burst into tears and ran to Mordecai so he could protect her. The twins thought this was hysterical: the kitten adores the ground Mordecai walks on, laughs at Serafine's threats and thinks Nico throwing her at a soft target as hard as he can is the bee's knees; but Asa Sweet-the big fat cat with the softest features out of all of them-scares the living daylights out of her.

Mordecai thinks the kitten has a good judge of character sometimes. If it wasn't for her love of the chaotic duo he'd say that out loud

They brought the kitten along to a "meeting" once when she were sick with a fever. She cried when Mordecai left the car and Serafine refused to leave until she was comforted or at least sleeping, so (after some arguing and sweet-talking) Mordecai went back for her. When he didn't leave the vehicle for a few minutes, the Savoys went on without him.

They came back to find him reading a book, the kitten snuggled up against his side and sound asleep tucked under his coat and arm. The soft look in Morde's eye told Nico that maybe this wasn't the time to be teasing him.

This didn't stop Serafine. Mordecai hasn't heard the end of that event. (Asa also gave him some Hell for leaving the twins to do the dirty work, but Serafine and Nico shut him down pretty quickly-they found whatever crate he wanted, no witnesses are around to tell the tale, the job was done just fine and the kitten needed him more than they did. Shut up, Mr. Sweet.)

Whoever's daughter the kitten is, they'd better learn to deal with Mordecai becoming her guardian angel of death. If she doesn't have a parent and just wandered in somehow, she's gonna end up with something better: an aunt that'll teach her to kill and how to stay strong, an uncle that'll toss her around like a hot potato and teach her to be fearless and another uncle that'll pretend to not care for her until someone looks at her the wrong way.

Mordecai, Serafine and Nico. Probably the worst-fitting cats to be any kind of parental figures, yet ones that will guard a mutually-adopted kitten until their final breaths-whether they'll admit to it or not.

[dude-why-3]

Who painted the sky?

Chapter 19: Green Days Off

The one night her nightmares decided to give her some peace, Annie couldn’t sleep because of the sneezing. 

Not her sneezing. She finds its source on the couch in the common room that morning. 

Armin is wearing his camp shirt and his good shoes, his glasses sliding down his nose as he bends to tie his shoelaces. He’s sniffing constantly, a box of tissue by his side and a growing pile of used ones on the floor. 

Annie yawns. 

“Did you catch a cold?”

He looks up at her with big eyes, his lips soon forming a smile. As she goes down the last couple of stairs, she notices how red his nose is, the underside of his eyes looking more purplish than before.

“No, why?”

“You look like you caught a cold,” she shrugs. Annie grabs her own shoes from the show rack and takes the seat next to him, tactically putting them on.

“I’m fine, An–” 

Another sneeze echoes through the room, cutting him off. He bends forward from the strength of it. Annie straightens her back, facing Armin, raising her eyebrow at him. He sniffles, grabbing a tissue from the tissue box and blowing his nose. He most definitely caught a cold.

Pieck’s voice interrupts his showcase. “Who’s sick?” 

She passes by the two of them, making a face at Armin before giving Annie a questioning look, and drops on an armchair. She arranges her brown skirt a bit before raising her feet on the coffee table, revealing a pair of funky, mismatched socks– one is pink with a bunch of squirrels scattered around, and the other is a green Scooby Doo sock.

“No one’s sick,” Armin says, giving her a strained smile. And then he sneezes again.

Annie presses her lips together and turns to Pieck. “Armin caught a cold.”

“I did not!”

Hitch’s voice peaks in. “We’ve heard you all night, you definitely did.”

Her and Reiner come down the stairs at once, both in their orange camp shirts, and grab their own shoes. Hitch looks like she’s gotten about as much sleep as Annie has.

Armin sneezes again. “I’m telling you, I’m fine. It’s just a little sneeze.”

“You’re gonna get the kids sick.”

“I’m not, because I’m not sick,” he argues.

“Let’s see what Hannah has to say about that,” Reiner says, phone already in hand.

Despite Armin’s protests, the host is called down to the house. She finds Armin in the same miserable state as the rest of the volunteers have.

“Absolutely not,” Hannah declares, standing in the middle of the room with a thermometer in hand, her other hand on her hip. 

“But I’m fine!”

Hannah sighs, shaking her head slowly. The volunteers are all scattered around the room, looking between the two.

“You have a fever, Armin.” Another sneeze echoes through the room. “You’re too sick to interact with the kids. Take the day off. Rest a bit.”

His fists tighten in his lap, his eyes narrowing. “But I can’t just lurk around all day and do nothing, I want to be useful.” 

Annie presses her lips together, watching the show go down. She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall– she shouldn’t have taken his raincoat. 

“Pushing yourself is not helpful,” Hannah tries to reason. “We’ll be fine without you. Annie can handle you guys’ groups on her own.” Hannah turns towards her, pinching her eyebrows together. “Right, Annie?”

“Right.”

She turns towards Armin again, smiling kindly. “See? We’ll be just fine.”

Truth is, Annie is not fine handling the group on her own. In the hideously pink room in the attic, her and the kids have been trying to come up with a little flag for their team for hours. But they couldn't come up with anything good. Their group name doesn't serve as inspiration either, as it has for the other groups- they drew ducks for the Duck Team and literal beans for The Jumpy Beans. If she were to follow the same pattern for this group, they'd end up showing with a solid blue poster, and she's pretty sure that'd get her ridiculed by her colleagues and belittled by the hosts. They need to come up with something else.

Someone clears their throat.

"So, are you and Armin, like, a thing?"

Annie freezes. She narrows her eyes, snapping her head at whoever spoke. She finds a redheaded girl staring right into her soul, eyes wide and a shit-eating grin on her face. 

Annie presses her lips together and sets her pen down. "That's none of your business."

"But you kissed the other day," comes another voice. Annie arches an eyebrow at the owner of the voice, another girl with wide green eyes.

"Kissed is an understatement, they full on made out," says a boy with pitch-black hair, grinning cheekily. Annie feels her complexion burn up. 

A girl with two twin braids speaks this time, leaning forward towards Annie. "Even better. So they must be together." 

"Guys-"

"You could just tell us," says another, a boy with a graphic tee. "We're nosy people, we'll find out anyway."

Annie sighs. Where's Armin when she needs him?

Sitting up straight, she says, "What do I get if I tell you?"

The campers look between each other, sharing confused looks. 

She leans back on her arm, feeling her lips arch up. "I mean, it's only fair that we trade. I give you what you want and you give me something back."

The kids start muttering and mumbling. Eventually, the nosy boy speaks up. "Like what?"

Annie arches an eyebrow, as if to challenge him. He swallows audibly. "What do you have to offer?"

He presses his lips together, looking back at his friends for help. The girl with the braids shrugs. 

When they don't come up with anything, an idea pops into Annie's mind. "You could do everything I say for the rest of the week. No complaints, no whining. I ask and you execute."

"Like servants?"

"If that's how you want to see it."

The kids exchange looks. "That's bullcrap."

Annie smirks, picking up her pen again. "Good luck finding out then."

"We'll just ask Armin," the boy says, grinning as if he had won the upper hand. 

"Well, you won't see him anytime soon, he's sick." 

Their faces pale. "You're joking."

She wished she was. She wished she could trade places with him so she didn't have to deal with them.

By the looks on their faces, the kids understand that she's serious. They exchange a momentarily desperate look. She almost snorts at their antics. Do these kids just live off cheap gossip?

"Hitch will tell us then." The boy nods to herself as if he had won once again.

Annie clicks her tongue. "She's my friend, she won't bulge."

"You have friends?"

Annie rolls her eyes. "You're still talking?"

The boy bites his lips, and the group finally goes quiet. Annie shakes her head, resisting the urge to sigh and just leave.

She looks down at their empty poster, and then checks the time. They have about twenty more minutes before the activity ends and they have to go to the cafeteria for lunch, and they must present the thing in the evening. They don’t have time to spare.

“If we come up with a poster, will you tell us?”

Annie arches an eyebrow. “Will you also do everything I say for the rest of the week?”

The kids look between each other, lips pressed together, heads are slowly nodded and others are shaken. Eventually, the boy looks back at her. “Sure.”

Annie smiles to herself and lets the pen down. “Then start by making some name badges.”

They execute it so fast it takes Annie aback. Had she known it’d be so easy to get them to do stuff, she would have done it sooner. Turns out, the redheaded girl’s name is Saorise, the one with the braids is Helen, the boy with black hair is Louise and the one with the graphic tee is Luke.

“Ok, now tell us,” Saorise says, her eyes gleaming.

Annie nods towards the empty poster. “Get started on that.”

“But you said–” She raises an eyebrow. Saorise sighs. “Nothing.”

Luke elbows her. “We need to be smart about this,” he scolds her. He looks back at Annie and crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re not doing anything until you tell us something.”

Annie raises an eyebrow, staring him down. The boy stares right back. Annie averts her eyes towards the phone by her side. She doesn’t have time for this. She sighs, running a hand through her hair. Armin would have known how to deflect from this. 

“Ok, fine. We’re having a summer fling. Get to work now.”

That seems to satisfy them enough, for they get started on the poster immediately. But her victory is short-lived. 

“What does that mean?” Helen inquiries as she scribbles on the paper.

“It means…” Annie presses her lips together. What does that mean? “It means that we’re sort of together for the summer. No commitments, no feelings, no strings attached.”

Louise snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

Annie shoots him a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t kiss like people who have no feelings for each other.”

Annie feels her face warm up. She frowns– she’s making a fool of herself in front of children. 

“Are you done with the poster?”

He immediately resumes to the task at hand.

It’s Saorise that speaks this time. “We’re just saying that it looks like there’s more to it.”

“He looks at you like you’re his whole world,” adds Helen.

Annie rolls her eyes, though she has to admit that her heart skips a beat. 

“And that’s not how you kiss someone you have no interest in,” Saorise sings.

“Your point?”

Luke looks at her with such a blank expression it creeps her out. “You love him and he loves you and you’re both too stupid to realise it.”

Her eyes widen, his words striking a nerve. 

Saorise slaps Luke’s arm. He winches. “Don’t speak to her that way!”

“Don’t hit me!”

Annie pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. They don’t have time for this. She doesn’t have time to dwell on this. So she urges them to finish the poster instead, and they manage to come up with something decent before the kids leave for lunch.

Annie sneaks out of the cafeteria halfway through lunch, unnoticed. She strides towards the BIg House, the tips of her fingers tingling in anticipation, her heart beating faster with each step she takes. She needs to see him. If what that Luke boy told her is true, she needs to know, she needs to confront him about it. Because her side of things is pretty clear already, but she cannot allow herself to fall until she knows that it's reciprocal.

When she makes it to the house and opens the door, she finds Armin curled up on the couch, wrapped in Pieck's blanket. The puppy Sasha and Connie rescued is snuggled up next to him, and the TV is on, playing a random cartoon she's never heard of before. There's a pile of tissues on the floor, and an empty box right next to it. A book is resting upside-down on the coffee table next to an empty glass.

Armin’s face lights up when he sees her, making her heart skip a beat. Suddenly, all  the courage she’s mastered leaves her. 

"Hi." 

She finds herself mirroring his smile. They'll be just fine, she tells herself.

She leans against the wall, looking him up and down. His nose is redder than in the morning.

"Hey. Are you any better?'

Armin hums lightly and nods, but before he manages to say anything, he bends by the middle, letting a sneeze out, his hands instinctively flying to his face. Annie presses her lips together. That's enough to answer her question. 

The puppy jumps awake, looking around with wide eyes as if searching for the source of the noise, but upon not finding it, scoots closer to Armin and curls up again. 

"I was starting to feel better," he laments, petting the dog's head absentmindedly.

“You’ll get better,” she tries to reassure him. Annie shuffles on her feet, biting her lip. She needs to ask him. She needs to get this off her chest, for it’s everything she’s been thinking of since this morning. But her courage wavers. She sighs before asking, “Would you like some tea?”

Armin nods, sneezing again.

With a smile, Annie slides into the kitchen. She takes a deep breath in, fills the kettle with water, and turns it on. As the water boils, she allows herself to consider the kids’ words, to believe that he does love her back. That they could do something about it, that they wouldn’t have to part ways. For a second, she allows herself to be foolish and close her eyes and envision all of it– all the kisses and cuddles and little touches. Her visiting his hometown and meeting the two people he’s talked about so much, and him coming over and meeting her father. All the little dates and laughs and the warmth of simply being near him for more than a fleeting second. 

Armin’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. 

“I looked over uni prospects today.”

She scoffs. “That’s how bored you got?”

Armin’s laugh echoes through the room. “Yeah!” He sits up on the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around him, and shuffles around so he can face the chicken, watching Annie pour the tea. “There are so many I liked, too!” he continues, his smile broadening. “Like, Rose University has this really cool astronomy program, and–!”

A very loud bang interrupts his ranting. Annie’s head snaps to the main door, a shiver running down her throat. The puppy jumps to the floor and scatters under the couch, covering its face with its paws.

Before either of them gets the chance to fully figure out what’s going on, Sasha storms into the room, holding a weirdly shaped plastic bag in her arms.

Annie blinks slowly at her, watching her march all the way to the kitchen and setting the bag on the table with a thud. Annie scowls, scanning the bag. Humming, Sasha starts taking things out of the bag– some potatoes, some carrots, an onion, and… a whole chicken. 

“I’m making soup!” explains Sasha, seeing Annie’s confused expression.

Annie stares at the chicken blankly as Sasha starts rummaging through the cupboards. The more she looks at it, the clearer it becomes that the chicken is raw.

Armin appears in the doorway, scratching his nose. He frowns at the chicken, looking up at Annie with wide eyes. 

“What is all this?”

Annie presses her lips together and shrugs helplessly. Sasha sets a big pot on the stove and turns around, grinning widely at Armin.

“I’m making soup!”

Annie gestures vaguely towards the whole shebang Sasha’s set on the table. “Where did you get all that?”

“Stole it from the cook,” she sings. 

Armin gulps. “You stole from the cook to make soup?”

“It’d help with your cold.”

“But you stole from the cook.”

Sasha tilts her head. “Yeah, but… I’m making soup.”

Armin blinks repeatedly. The door slams to the wall a second time, and Hitch’s voice booms through the common room.

“How’s our boooy?” she sings, dragging out the last word. 

She quickly scans the room, her eyes landing on Armin, and jumps on his back, making him yelp. She examines his face briefly, scowling at his red nose. She steps back, holding him by the shoulders. “You look like shit.”

“I feel better,” he tries to argue, but his voice is hoarse.

“Sure.”

Hitch walks past Armin and into the kitchen, arching an eyebrow at the chicken.

“What’s all this?”

“I’m making soup! Helps with the cold!” beams Sasha. She takes out knives and cutting boards and sets them on the table. 

Hitch whistles. “Count me in then.”

The two hurry to wash their hands, Sasha soaps her all the way to the elbow before rinsing them thoroughly. As Hitch dries her hands, Sasha holds hers up, water dripping to the floor, a cheeky smile on her face. 

“Alright, everybody,” she says, barely holding back her laugh. Armin snorts, anticipating what she’s about to say. “It’s a beautiful day to save lives. Let’s have some fun!”

Hitch and Armin break into laughter as Sasha dries her hands, a satisfied grin on her lips. Annie narrows her eyes at the lot of them. 

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s this iconic line from Grey’s Anatomy.”

“Oh.”

Sasha turns to her, eyes gleaming. “Have you watched it, Annie?”

Annie presses her lips together before admitting that she hasn’t, and Sasha decides that a marathon is needed. 

Armin sneezes again, cutting their conversation short. He sniffles his nose. 

“Guys, I think I’ll take Dexter and go to my room and sleep or something.”

Annie arches an eyebrow, turning around in unison with Hitch. “Dexter?”

Armin nods thoroughly. “The puppy.”

As if on cue, the puppy emerges from between his legs, barking loudly. He jumps up on one of the high kitchen stools, looking up at the chicken with longing eyes.

Sasha turns towards Armin, frowning deeply. "You named my puppy Dexter?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I thought it was a nice name," he shrugs

"It makes me think of Dexter the character."

"Yeah."

"But the puppy looks nothing like Dexter."

"He doesn't, but he joined me halfway through a Dexter marathon so I just called him that."

"But it's ugly."

“You had a Dexter marathon without me?” Hitch asks, looking just as indignated as Sasha.

Both Sasha and Armin ignore her.

"It's a name though," Armin argues.

Sasha’s frown deepens. "I think Connie and I should have named him though."

"But you didn't."

Sasha frowns at him, then huffs out a breath. "Ok, fine. He can be Dexter."

Armin smiles victoriously. He scoops up the puppy and turns around humming, leaving the kitchen. 

Annie looks down at the teas she's made. "Do you still want your tea?" 

"I forgot about it, sorry!"

"I could bring it upstairs," Annie mumbles. 

She can feel Hitch's eyes burn into her side. Rolling her eyes, Annie takes one of the mugs and hurries up the stairs to catch up to Armin. 

"How were the kids?" he asks, stealing a glance at her. 

"They kept asking about you."

They make it to their floor and find Armin's door prompted open by a stack of books. 

"And us," Annie adds, walking in and setting the tea mug on the nightstand by his bed. 

Dexter jumps from Armin's arms and onto the bed. He curls up in the middle of the duvet and looks up at them with big eyes, rocking his tail left and right.

Armin turns to Annie, his cheeks dusting pink. 

"They asked about us?"

Annie nods and averts her eyes, not daring to hold his gaze. "They were so nosy about it, too."

Armin grins sheepishly. "So kissing me in front of everyone got them curious."

Annie feels her face heating up. "It also got you sick," she says, as nonchalantly as she can manage. 

Armin shrugs, "I think it was worth it."

Her smile grows, and she takes a step closer to him. "Was it now?"

His hand comes up, ghosting over her arm. Looking up at her, Armin smiles broadly. "I'd do it again."

Annie snorts. "You'd get sick  because of me again?"

"Maybe without the sick part. But I'd kiss you again.” He smiles, the next part coming out as a whisper. “Maybe even in the rain."

Annie’s face warms even more. The questions she’s been having since the morning start popping up in her mind again, slowly taking over, threatening to spill over. Annie bites the inside of her cheek slightly, in hopes that she could swallow them back down. 

Armin frowns, his fingers gripping her arm a bit tighter. “What’s wrong?”

Annie shakes her head, forcing a smile on. “Nothing.” 

She leans over and kisses his cheek, frowning slightly at how warm his complexion is. Drawing back, Annie brings her hand to his forehead. 

“You have a fever.”

Armin sighs, taking a step back. “I’ll be as good as new by tomorrow,” he mumbles. 

Then his face grimaces, and he bends over slightly, sneezing loudly. 

“You should get in bed and drink your tea,” she says, taking his arm and guiding him towards the bed. 

Armin hums again, letting her tuck him in. Dexter scoots over and rests his head on Armin’s chest, whimpering lightly. Smiling, Armin pets his head, scratching between his ears. Annie smiles at the image– Armin making friends with a stray puppy. Who would have thought?

“I’ll go help with the soup, ok?” she kisses his forehead. “Try and get some rest.”

Without looking back again, Annie hurries to leave his room, her heart beating faster by the second. The kids’ words roam through her mind again. 

He looks at you like you’re his whole world.

She squeezes her eyes shut. If she’s his whole world, he should think again. He doesn’t want someone like her to be his whole world.

You love him and he loves you and you’re both too stupid to realise it.

That’s nothing more than wishful thinking. Nothing more than kids being as foolish as they usually get. What does that boy know anyway?

Hitch’s voice jerks her out of her thoughts.

“Are you helping, Annie?”

She hurries to join the two in the kitchen. The water for the soup is already starting to boil on the stove. Annie ignores their shit eating grins, their stares. She grabs a cutting board and a knife and gets to chopping the vegetables. Sasha rummages through the cabinets, humming some random tune. Hitch fishes her phone out of the pocket of her shorts and leans back against the table, scrolling briefly though what she believes to be spotify. Then This Is The Life starts playing. Hitch leaves her phone on the table and starts jamming around the room, pirouetting around the table.

Sasha finally finds what she was looking for. “Aha!” she exclaims, holding a knife up. 

Annie’s hand freezes mid air. She frowns at Sasha, looking from the knife in her hand to the victorious expression on her face. Even Hitch stopped her dancing momentarily, turning to look at Sasha. Beaming, the girl starts bringing down the chicken, cutting it down in pieces. 

Annie pours the veggies into the boiling water, stirring the soup twice. Hitch comes up behind her and holds out her hands, bringing her along in her dance. Annie laughs, letting her roommate spin her around. Hitch lets out a laugh herself. Annie holds up her arm and spins her around much like she did earlier. 

Then the song comes to a stop and Billy Joel comes up. Hitch bows to Annie, who finds herself mirroring the same movements. 

As Hitch pours herself a glass of tap water, Annie climbs on one of the tall stools, reaching over the table for the tea she’s forgotten about. Sasha puts the chicken into the soup, seasons the whole ordeal, and covers the pot with a lid before turning around. She grins sheepishly at Annie, her eyes bright with curiosity.

“So, you and Armin?”

Annie rolls her eyes, but can’t help the smile forming on her lips. “It’s nothing serious.”

“It looked pretty serious to me.”

“Well–”

Hitch slams her glass on the table. Annie’s head snaps towards her. “Sorry,” her roommate mumbles. She presses her lips into a thin line and joins Annie at the table. “You still haven’t talked about it?”

Annie sighs, dropping her head into her folded arms. “I don’t know how to.”

Hitch clears her throat. “I fancy you, let’s be a thing,” she suggests, doing her best impression of Annie’s voice.

Sasha snorts. Annie looks up at her with narrowed eyes. Hitch holds up her hands as if to defend herself.

“It doesn’t need to be anything complicated, just be honest with him.”

“There’s nothing wrong with simple confessions,” agrees Sasha.

Annie groans. How did she end up having this conversation with these two of all people?

Hitch nudges her knee playfully. “You know, I think he fancies you too.” She winks at her. Annie feels her stomach turn at the gesture.

“You  think?” Sasha peaks in. “He’s completely smitten!”

Annie buries her face into her arms, feeling her complexion warm up. How she wished the ground would open and swallow her whole right about now.

The door creaks open. 

She soon hears Pieck’s voice. “Why’s it so hot in here?”

“We’re making soup,” explains Sasha. 

“Fun.” She’s quiet for a moment, yet Annie can hear the fabric of her skirt shuffling. “Oh is this tea?”

Annie snaps her head up, just in time to see Pieck, in her orange camp shirt and long brown skirt, take her mug of tea and bring it to her lips. She grimaces. “What kind of tea is this? And why is it so cold?”

Annie shrugs. “I think it’s mint.”

Pieck raises an eyebrow, scowling at the mug. She pops it in the microwave, staring at it through the glass. Sasha palms the stray towel hanging by the sink and takes the lid off, then stirs the soup. 

The microwave starts beeping, and Pieck hurries to take the tea out. She takes another sip and hums, nodding satisfied. “Yep, it’s mint.” Pieck sits on the chair across the table from Annie, slowly sipping on the tea she’s stolen.

“Do we have any noodles?” asks Sasha, still minding her soup.

Hitch gets off her chair, saying that she remembers seeing some last week. Sure enough, she finds a whole pack in one of the drawers. They add it to their soup, the finishing touch.

But when they go to call Armin down, they find him long asleep, tucked in bed with the puppy sleeping by his side, head resting on his chest.

While he does eat his soup later that night and, admittedly, looks better in the morning, the hosts decide to give him one more day off, for he looks far from having beaten the cold. 

He spends most of the day in his room with Dexter, his door prompted open by a stack of books, reading books and going through uni prospects and watching cheap movies, just trying to make the time pass faster. 

He sighs deeply as he sits on the edge of the bed, abandoning the book he’s been reading on the nightstand. The puppy jumps off and starts doing rounds around his feet, rocking its tail back and forth, probably thinking that it’s finally time for a walk. Armin smiles sadly at him, reaching over to scratch behind his ears.

“I’m sorry, buddy, I don’t think we’ll do much walking these days.”

Dexter whimpers, his tail coming to a halt as if understanding the boy’s words, and lays on the floor, leaning his head on Armin’s foot. Ears leaned back, he looks up at Armin with pleading eyes. Armin sighs and scoops him up in his arms. Not only is he useless on camp, he also managed to make a puppy sad.

His eyes involuntarily travel to the other side of the room– the empty side of the room, so barred of life; the white sheets left untouched, collecting dust. His lips press together, a wave of sadness washing over him– it should have his side of the room, had everything worked out as they had planned. Had he not disappeared into thin air. 

Armin still remembers how his emerald eyes sparkled with excitement when he told Mikasa and him about camp, in the dim light of his room. They had gathered in the Yeagers' basement like they did every other Friday, his room warm compared to the November brisk outside. His voice had sounded so excited when he asked them to go along this time– for the whole summer, not just Open Day this time– to have one last summer together, filled with adventures, before parting ways. 

A wet something on his face pulls him out of his daydreams, making a shiver run down his spine– but he calms down when he realises it’s just Dexter licking his face. Armin shakes his head briefly and wipes his eyes, for they were getting damp. Dwelling over the past does nothing to fix it, he reminds himself.

Armin lets himself fall onto the mattress again, putting the empty side of the room out of his eyeshot. Dexter, still in his arms, starts licking his face thoroughly, wiggling his tail left and right. Armin chuckles lightly at the puppy’s sudden show of affection, and–

The door is slammed to the wall, yanking both Armin and the puppy up. When he looks up, Armin is met with a very angry Annie moving his stack of books around and closing the door just as loudly as she has opened it.

“They’re driving me crazy,” she grunts out, stomping over to the bed. 

Armin finds himself staring at her– as he often does these days, sometimes less subtly than he’d wish. His eyes travel from the purple of her socks to the top of her head, taking in her appearance, her shorts barely touching the middle of her thighs, her orange camp shirt spotted blue on the collar, the bun at the back of her head loose, barely keeping her hair from falling over her shoulders and framing her face. And the scowl on her face, that he hasn’t seen in a while. Armin frowns, the sight unsettling– what has gotten her so mad?

He was so busy admiring her mere existence that he only notices how close Annie’s gotten when she speaks, and he finds her standing over him.

“Move over.” Even her voice sounds angry, scary somehow.

Armin does as he's told and rolls over to the other side of the bed, his eyes remaining on her curiously. Without any warning, Annie slums into bed next to him and rolls on her side, bringing the blanket over her face.

Armin feels his complexion warming up. But before the thought of her in his bed settles in, another, much more terrifying one takes over. Armin sits up so suddenly it makes Dexter yelp and scurry away, hiding under the other bed.

“I’ll give you the cold if you get so close!”

Her voice comes out muffled by the blanket. “If it gets me out of counselor duties for the rest of the week, I don’t mind.”

Armin narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?” He reaches for the blanket and pulls it down. Annie is already staring at him through stormy eyes, a pout resting on her lips. Armin feels his face soften up. “What’s wrong, Annie?”

“Nothing,” she mutters.

Armin’s frown deepens. There’s something bothering her, he can tell that much, something has been bothering her since yesterday, and yet she won’t tell him. Is she angry with him? Are the kids too much to handle on her own?

The girl sighs and, under the intensity of his stare, gives in. “It’s the kids,” she finally admits.

Armin feels the ground seep from under his feet. 

“They’ve been teasing me all day,” she continues, rolling over on her back. “About us,” she adds, stealing a short glance at him.

Armin sighs, letting his shoulders relax. He lies down once again, then moves a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Is it that bad?”

“They’re being such assholes about it,” Annie groans. “Hitch too. And the others, but especially Hitch.”

Armin can’t help the smile forming on his lips. Annie doesn’t miss it either, for she frowns at him, her cheeks dusting pink. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, though his voice sounds amused.

Her frown deepens. “You’re poking fun at me.”

“I’m not! I just–” he doesn’t dare look at her when he says, “I think it’s cute how worked up you are over it.”

“You think it’s cute?” Annie turns on her side, fully facing him. “I’m over here making a fool of myself in front of children and you think it’s cute?”

Armin tries to hold back a laugh but, seeing her pout, can’t. Laugher spills over against his will. Annie’s face picks up even more color. She grabs the pillow under her head and playfully hits him across the face, which only serves to intensify his laughter.

“I also haven’t slept in days, so be careful what you say,” she warns, still holding the pillow. 

Armin puts his hands over hers, blocking another eventual attack. He studies her face, noting all the little changes, from how small her smile is to the deeper circles under her eyes. He brings his hand to her cheek, eliciting a little sigh from her, and caresses the dark spots with his thumb.

“You haven’t been sleeping?”

Annie shakes her head, pressing her lips together. She puts the pillow back and lies on her side, bringing the blanket over both of their shoulders.

“Do you want to take a nap then? Get some rest?”

Annie hums. She scoots closer, her breath mingling with his, but as much as he’d want to put his arms around her and just hold her, he doesn't want to give her the cold. He gives her a small smile and scoots away, and Annie seems to understand, for she returns the smile and turns on her other side. 

Soon, Annie’s tiny snores indicate that she’s fast asleep. Armin closes his eyes as well, but sleep is not as kind to him, a thousand thoughts running through his mind, thoughts of the past and the future and worries of the present.

Dexter sneaks into the bed and curls up in between them, resting his head on Armin’s chest once again. Smiling, he pets the dog’s head, watching Annie’s shoulders raise and fall rhythmically. Maybe they will be okay after all.

[impytek]

States as Taylor Swift But I Go Into a Little Too Much Detail

Massachusetts - Your On Your Own Kid

"I didn’t choose this town, I dream of getting out. There’s just one who could make me stay all my days."

Mass is the revolutionary State, he's the most dependent on the succeeding of this country because he worked so hard for it, he's staying stable because he is an example to them all. atleast he wants to be.

"From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I waited ages to see you there."

As i've mentioned, mass is the most dependent on america succeeding. he's the big brother to all of the states. he's waiting for them all to fight with him and fight to keep what they've fought for.

"And I saw something they can't take away. 'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned."

He knows he made history. he knows that he's helped create something beautiful.

"Everything you lose is a step you take. So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it. You've got no reason to be afraid."

him comforting a new state maybe california or texas :]

New York - Look What You Made Me Do

tbh he is a rep kind of guy

"Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time"

New york is cocky. He's constantly fighting with others and manages to keep respect as if it's easy to keep.

"I’ve got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined"

he can and would ruin any state that crossed his path. he holds grudges like they're a lifeline.

"The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama. But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma"

he's an observer when it comes to the other states dramas. when it comes to him being included in it, he is karma. like i've said, he is a rep boy. the line also references britney, hes a britney stan idc.

Utah - Cruel Summer

this really is an obscure choice of states huh

"Fever dream high in the quiet of the night."

ah yes, a reference to Utah smoking, very original ik/s. a fever dream is a nightmare caused by an extreme heat, the use of high implies a hidden enjoyment of this nightmare. and this boy has issues /hj.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes. What doesn't kill me makes me want you more.

look i didn't mean to imply neveda x utah with this option it just happened. i think utah is gay purely out of denial for this homophobic kid i met in utah. i don't know shit about this state.

the rest of this song is very...interesting. if you take anything out of that i will be shocked.

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

My internet provider was straight up playing me before because it took 3 hours to download the ep last week and with the new internet, 20 minutes this week, so anyway I took random notes while watching and just gonna post a couple of them in one hit before scrolling my dash:

1. “Anybody can get a guy to bang them once.” Oh, can they, Dennis? Can they?? Sounds like a man speaking from experience, huh.

2. Jack to Charlie regarding “play dates” together and him saying “You don’t remember,” oh that hurts my heart, Charlie having to repress memories of him. And then the extra creep factor with the fucking ice cream truck, good lord, I’m starting to think Jack murder is more and more possible this season.

3. “Don’t mind my friend, he’s schizophrenic.” “I am, yeah.” I know it’s like a joke here, but I like schizotypal Charlie headcanon so I choose to see this as a win. (Spider in my ear vibes though <3)

4. Dee and Mac asking “why” and “how come” Dennis has a system to get men and him shhing them, oh yeah it’s all coming together, he’s used this system fr, and the truth and something else is gonna come out, baby.

5. Love The Waitress is Getting Married vibes from Dennis helping Mac and Dee on their dates the way they tried to help Charlie.

6. Girl, how did Dennis get that bottle open over that guy, this man lives off of beer and air, he’s a weak, frail Victorian maiden who would absolutely get Mac to open jars in their apartment constantly.

7. MOMMY ISSUES DENNIS REAL. Okay so we’re all in agreement we’re gonna transport Den “back to a time when he was a snot nosed little bitch who depended on the most important person in his life for absolutely everything, the person who inflated his ego, who made him feel powerful but also powerless, the person whose validation he’s been seeking his entire life.” I’m SCREAMING. “The way to make a guy fall in love with you is to make him feel like you are his mommy.” GIRL, WHAT THE FUCK, Freud would like a word, I could write a whole essay on this scene alone, but I’m sure someone else already has, but oh my god they’re bringing up how Barbara’s influence really messed with him, inflating his ego, making him the golden child and holding him up to these perfect standards, but he’s trying to maintain that perfection even after she’s gone and realizing he can’t, making him powerless. He just wants the illusion of power! he doesn’t want to have to work for it this much. Head buzzing with incoherent thoughts but there are thoughts here I may come back to just aaahh.

8. On another note, I really liked their acting in this one, especially the S.I.N.N.E.D. scene, their deliveries were all great, they seemed to be having fun and it was sooo cute.

9. A boy in love with Johnny so he can’t be with anyone else, but Dennis is Johnny, Dennis catfish real, Dennis controlling anal beads real, what fever dream is this fucking episode, a boy in love with Johnny, Johnny dennis Dennis Johnny, I’m losing my mind.

10. “I’m Dennis, I’ve always been Dennis” and Ireland’s “You’re you, you’ve always been you” parallels and Mac’s need for solid and clear labels of identity, but Dennis’ continually vague notion of his own self, and Mac remaining completely clueless this whole season, not seeing what’s right in front of him, the blowing jokes, Dennis and his system for men, Dennis is Johnny, while Dennis is starting to realize maybe what he wants and continuously gets more aware, and it leads to mental health day, aaah idk!! So much!

11. I love how everyone was deep dive analyzing the Frank Dennis scene and it was just him telling him he got anal beads in his ass 😭

12. The chess opponent looks a lil like Donald to me.

13. Full ass blast 😭 I hate how this show makes me insane regardless of that.

[masamihanazawa]

One Sick Puppy || Emilio & Masami

Summary: Perro gets a cold and Emilio breaks into Masami's clinic to get help. Parties: @mortemoppetere & @masamihanazawa Timing: Current Trigger Warnings: unsanitary tw, parental death tw, sibling death tw

In the weeks after the massacre that tore his life apart, detail became something Emilio could never quite get away from. Paranoia kept him on edge constantly, hypervigilant and unable to keep himself from noticing even the most insignificant of things. The same man at a bar two nights in a row felt like a threat, a car parked crooked in the spot outside his apartment seemed like a clue, an icy sidewalk the morning after an unseasonably cold night made him suspicious. It was part of why he’d taken on the detective gig — some attempt at turning that paranoia into something useful, some way of profiting off it. And maybe a feeble attempt at getting it out of his system, too, as if he could exhaust that part of his mind into submission. 

But it didn’t work that way. He still noticed repeat customers at the bars he frequented, still stared a little too hard at that crooked parking job, still felt his heart in his throat at the too-cold nights. The kind of ‘detail oriented’ that Emilio was wasn’t the kind you could turn off or ignore. It was so ingrained in him now, he wasn’t sure he would be a full person without it. (He wasn’t sure he was a full person with it, either.)

So when the dog started acting off, he noticed. The sniffling, the unusual lack of energy, the way he left half his meals in the bowl. Perro might as well have been screaming at him. That didn’t mean he knew what to do, though. One might assume that, as a father, Emilio would have had some experience with this sort of thing, but Flora had been a slayer, and slayers rarely got sick. He could count on one hand the number of times she’d even run a fever, and even on those occasions, it had always been mild. But Perro wasn’t a slayer. He didn’t have extra defenses against this kind of shit. He was just a dog. And if anything happened to him, at this point, Emilio wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it.

Who could blame him for the panic clawing at his throat? Who could laugh at the way the world seemed to close in on him as he watched the dog sleep a little too much? He was worried. He was allowed to be worried, even if he didn’t quite know what to do with the concern. 

After only a few hours of just watching, he decided a trip to the vet was in order. But, of course, Emilio had never taken an animal to the vet before. He had no idea how to use Yelp to seek one out, no clue where to even start with the ancient phonebook that he was pretty sure had already been in the apartment when he’d moved in. But, as luck would have it, he did know of one vet in Wicked’s Rest. The guy probably wouldn’t be thrilled to see him, but the panic tightening his throat wasn’t going to go away on its own. As silly as it might have seemed, Emilio needed reassurance. The vet could give that to him.

He just had to hope the whole ‘don’t come back’ speech Masami had given him only applied to matters of his own health.

Although he suspected customers were meant to enter the practice through the front door, Emilio had only ever been in through the alley. It was instinct, more than anything, that carried him to the alley now, with Perro zipped into his jacket. The door was locked, but he made quick work of it, absentmindedly picking the lock without thinking of how the person on the other side of the door might react to it opening unannounced. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him and turning to face the same exam room where he’d been patched up not long ago. Absently, he wondered if that was his blood on the table or if someone new had sat in the same spot, bleeding onto the metal. Hearing footsteps, he tensed and turned towards the sound, one arm tightening around the dog against his chest. 

“I need help,” he said quietly in way of greeting. “You said you were a vet, ¿sí?”

—

Masami had been having a rough day. It started last night when his insomnia decided to rear its head and while the vet was used to getting only a few hours a night he thought 2 was pushing it. Still he got up, grabbed some coffee and prepared for work only to have his truck refuse to start, forcing the man to run to work as a fox, prosthetic leg in mouth. Most of the ground was frozen and while his winter coat was good at keeping most of him warm, his hands and foot were still frozen when he shifted back into a human. Luckily Janice had coffee ready for him as well as a change of clothes. But still that didn’t stop the overflow of appointments they had today. Vaccines, sick animals, animals that had eaten something they weren’t meant to. It was never ending. 

Then the night clients came, one in particular was bad. Blood had gotten all over his exam table and his clothes despite his best efforts the man bled out on his table. Masami was tired, running on fumes and feeling a bit like he’d failed today. He’d been sitting in the hallway, still in the bloodied shirt and smoking a cigarette as the friends of the poor bastard said goodbye when he heard the back door open. He was ready to beat the shit out of whoever dared to break into his clinic right now, when he paused. 

The voice that reached his ears was quiet, almost desperate and when Masami saw the familiar face he knew he wasn’t going to do anything to this human who just blatantly picked the lock to his back door. He sighed, a hand running through his hair. His voice sounded tired as he spoke. “Go out to the hallway, the second door on the right it’s where I see animals. Don’t go into the recovery room, there’s something private going on in there right now. I.. Need to change then I’ll come see your dog.” He wasn’t really sure if he had a change of clothes, given how his day was going he’d have to borrow some form Janice. Still he moved back out into the hallway leaving Emilio to decide whether or not to follow his instructions as he popped into the recovery room to grab some clothes. He offered a soft apology, explaining another emergency came in and he’d need to see to it before he slipped out and made for the bathrooms. 

—

The vet sounded tired, but he wasn’t kicking Emilio out and the hunter took that as a win. His shoulders slumped a little with the relief of it, and he nodded his head and scratched Perro absently behind the ear, ducking out into the hall. Sharp ears picked up on the events of the recovery room Masami had barred him from entering, enhanced senses and innate curiosity making it next to impossible not to listen in, even if he followed Masami’s orders not to enter. Someone was choking on a sob, someone else muttering a prayer. The grief of it all was heavy and palpable and familiar, and Emilio clutched the damn dog a little closer without thinking about it. 

He moved into the room Masami had indicated to him with much less stubborn resolve than he would have if it were him in need of medical attention. Whereas his last visit to this clinic had seen him a man full of petty arguments and pointless defiance, the Emilio present today was more subdued. His own health was a thing he cared little about. Hunters were built to fall and born to die, and he’d stopped caring to fight against that years ago. But the dog deserved better. The dog had had things hard enough already, with his shitty ex-owner and his three unsteady limbs. Emilio didn’t give a shit if he lived or died, but he was going to make sure that this goddamn dog was okay. He had to.

As Masami moved through the practice, Emilio’s quiet paranoia made him hyperaware of every step the doctor took. Four paces into the recovery room, a quiet apology that could barely be heard over the sniffling and sobbing and praying, a rustling of fabric. A few more steps, a door opening and closing, shoes against the tile floor of a bathroom. More rustling as clothes were changed, then more footsteps towards the room where Emilio sat. He straightened just before the door opened, turning towards it. “He’s been tired,” he said, shifting Perro to unzip his jacket and pull the dog out. “More than usual. And — And not eating as much. I don’t know what kind he is, or how old he is, or if he’s been to a vet before. I’ve only had him a month or so. I… found him.” Not a complete lie, though he left out the bit about how he’d found the dog in the house of a vampire he’d just finished staking. That, he figured, was a little less relevant.

—

Masami took the time to peel off the bloody clothes, careful to wash his hands to not leave any stuck under his nails, leaning over to splash his face with the cold water trying to remind himself that these things happened. They would always happen, he got into this knowing it would. It still sucked and when he dried himself and pulled on the clean clothes he had half a mind to just tell the troublesome bastard to go home. He quickly let that thought go though, he knew that as soon as he saw the man being pathetic over his dog again he’d cave in and help. He beareted himself for being so soft as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving his dirty clothes behind for later. He wanted to see what was going on with the dog as fast as possible so he could head to the nearest bar and get drunk, maybe even find someone to make him forget the shit day he had. 

Masami opened the door, hands rummaging around in the clean pockets of the lab coat for his stethoscope as Emilio offered up information the vet was barely taking in. Still he got the important parts: no history with vets, tiredness and loss of appetite.He scooped the dog out of Emilio’s hands, noticing the lack of a front leg. “Let’s see what’s going with you. What’s his name?” Masami gently set the dog on the table, taking note of how the dog seemed to just lay down as soon as Masami let him. He tsked and walked over to the cabinets, slipping on some gloves as he pulled a thermometer out. “I’m going to take his temperature, he’s not going to like it, none of them do.” He turned back to the poor dog and quickly lifted his tail to get a reading. It was a slight fever, nothing very high, but the dog did seem to be shivering. “Has he had anything he’s eaten come back up?” 

Masami tossed the thermometer into the sink and slipped the gloves off before testing for any other worrying signs. “Seems a little dehydrated.” He mumbled, taking note of everything. He didn’t bother to look at Emilio as he worked, he didn’t need to be taking in the worried look of another parent this evening, even if the kid in question was a dog this time. “If he’s keeping everything down then I’m just going to suggest fluids, I also want to put him on a heated pad in the back for a bit, see if it helps his shivering.” He picked up the small bundle of fuzz and gently placed him on a scale to get his weight as he waited for Emilio’s response to the plan, still keeping his gaze from the other man. 

—

Instinctively, the hunter’s grip tightened briefly around the dog as Masami scooped him up, but he quickly let go and allowed the vet to take him. Perro let out an uncertain whine, but no more protest than that. Emilio had known from their first meeting that Masami wasn’t human, of course, but Perro’s lack of aggression towards him seemed to prove it further. “Perro,” he supplied quietly. The dog lifted his head and thumped his tail against the vet’s arm a few times at the sound of his name, looking to Emilio with another whine. 

He hesitated as Masami announced that Perro wouldn’t like having his temperature taken, but didn’t protest. It was a necessary thing, he knew. Dogs were like children; sometimes, they wanted what was bad for them and hated what was good. Still, the way the dog tried to wriggle out of the vet’s arms as his temperature was taken left a strange ache in Emilio’s chest. You really have gone soft, Juliana’s voice scoffed in his mind. “I don’t think so, no. He’s just been too quiet.” 

It was clear that Masami knew what he was doing with animals just as well as he did with people. Perro, for his part, was a far better patient than Emilio had been. He seemed resigned to the whole thing, letting out the occasional whine but not much more than that. Emilio nodded as the vet laid out his plan, still staring at the dog. “Can I stay?”

—

“Perro? Really?” Masami couldn’t believe the lack of effort in naming the dog he supposedly rescued off the streets. It was enough to get him to turn around and take in the sad little man sitting in the chair next to the exam table. He decided not to push it and just rolled his eyes before turning back to Perro. “Your dad’s shit at naming.” He muttered to the dog as he marked his weight in his notes. “He’s a good weight, seems like it’s just a regular cold. You had me thinking he was dying.” He scratched under Perro’s chin, “Good boy. Let’s get your leg shaved.” Normally Masami would do the liquids quickly but Perro was small and he wanted to observe him a bit longer, a stool sample would be best given that he didn’t know if the little guy was vaccinated against anything but he’d let that happen naturally in the morning, he didn’t want to bring anything else up to Emilio. The man was acting well behaved, much different from how he had the last time they met. 

Masami paused with Perro in his arms, looking at Emilio he sighed. “Where do you plan to sleep? In front of his cage so you can get in the way of my employees in the morning?” He didn’t think the people in the recovery room would appreciate Emilio staying even if there was a wall between them. He was careful in setting the dog back down on the table as he got the clippers out from the drawer. He gave the pitiful pup a few reassuring pets before moving him in a position where he couldn’t run away as Masami clipped off a bit of fur on his front leg. It didn’t take very long to do, “You’re being a god boy Perro. Your dad on the other hand is a dumbass. Coming back to a clinic he was told to stay away from. Asking to sleep in it like it’s a fucking hotel.” 

“You can’t stay, I have plans after this and you’re not involved in them.” Masami picked Perro up and opened the door with his good foot before disappearing to the room right next to the recovery room. There was hardly any other pet staying the night thankfully. He didn’t need a cold spreading from animal to animal even if he had a quarantine cage. He opened the door and gently set the dog down, turning on the heated pad before leaving the pup to his own devices while he grabbed a bag of fluids and some wet food. He set the food bowl in the cage and quickly got the needle into Perro’s leg, bandaging it in place so the dog wouldn’t pull it out overnight. He sighed and petted the little guy, “Maybe I was too harsh on your dad.” He mumbled, he was in a bad mood from the day’s events and perhaps had been a little too curt with Emilio but if he let Emilio stay then there would go his plans to head out and get drunk. He knew the family would be gone by morning, but the problem was Emilio would be there all night and had already shown he had a habit of picking locks on doors he wasn’t supposed to have access to. He lightly pressed his head against the cage, waiting to see if Perro took any interest in the wet food, sighing and knowing that if Emilio pressed the issue he would cave and end up spending the night here at the clinic with some over worried idiot. 

—

“I didn’t know if he had another name,” Emilio replied, sounding almost defensive. “Wouldn’t like it much if someone showed up and decided to give you a new name, would you? Anyway, he likes it.” Perro sneezed at that, and Emilio took it as confirmation. He froze when Masami spoke to the dog, the word dad feeling more like a gallow than any single syllable should be able to manage. “Not dad,” he said, the words sticking in his throat. “Just… friend.” It was a stupid thing to get hung up on, but his goddamn heart was pounding in his chest like it was trying to break through his ribcage, lungs drawing shallow, quiet breaths. He held his breath for a moment, trying to calm himself down. It was just a fucking word. Who gave a shit what it used to mean? 

Masami continued speaking to the dog, and Emilio felt like he was trying to listen to the one-sided conversation from the bottom of a swimming pool. Good weight. Just a cold. Shave a leg. He made himself repeat the statements in short, curt summaries so his mind could latch on. The gist of it, the important part, was that the dog was fine. He was going to be fine. Emilio clung to that. He came back to himself as Masami addressed him again, mind skipping over the repetition of that goddamn word to focus instead on the question of it all. “Wasn’t planning on sleeping,” he admitted, voice sounding a little strange to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “I, uh… Took a nap earlier. Not tired.” It wasn’t entirely true. His slayer physiology was why he could forgo sleep without issue, but sharing that with Masami felt like the kind of thing that might get him hit. As for whether or not he was tired… Frankly, Emilio wasn’t sure anymore. The last time he’d really slept had probably been the last time he was here, if passing out due to injuries counted as sleep. If it didn’t… He wasn’t sure when the last rest he’d gotten had been. 

He watched as Masami exited the room with Perro, feet anchored to the ground for a moment. It was stupid. This whole damn thing was stupid. He hadn’t even had a dog until a month or so ago, when he’d scooped the tiny thing into his arms and carried it home without thinking. So why did the thought of leaving Perro here alone make his stomach turn? Masami was trustworthy enough, so why did his mind insist that if he left Perro here tonight, he’d be gone in the morning? He clenched his hands into fists at his side, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to orient himself. A vet’s office in Maine. He was in a vet’s office in Maine, with his damn dog in the other room because he’d panicked over a cold. He was not in a house in Mexico with blood on the floor. He opened his eyes again, feet moving almost without his permission towards the sound of Masami’s voice prattling away to the dog. Determination shone in his eyes as he stepped into the room. “If you kick me out, I’m just gonna hang out in your alley until morning,” he announced. “I’m not leaving my dog, man.”

—

“If he did have a name before he isn’t using it now.” Masami closed the cage and turned to face Emilio. He had chosen to ignore Emilio’s request to not call him Perro’s dad. Though now that he was paying attention he could tell it had bothered the other man perhaps a little too much. He sighed and took in Emilio’s defiant stare. This man was too stubborn for his own good and Masami was too easy. “Fine. But you can’t stay in this room, your friend needs rest and will only be more stressed by you being here. Dog’s are good at picking up when you’re anxious.”  He’d have to let Emilio hang out in the front he decided. The recovery room was off limits especially since the balams in there had just had a horrible run in with a group of humans. It was probably for the best that neither party met each other. The last thing he needed for today was a fight breaking out in his clinic. 

The vet walked over to the sink to wash his hands before rubbing his face. “Go sit in the front room for now, I’ll let my other patients know it’s time to go home. Don’t open the cage, I don’t need his cold spreading to the other animals.” Granted the only other animal was a ferret who’d been watching them since they got in. The little creature was being kept for boarding while it’s owners were off on vacation for a week.. Masami peeked into the cage with the ferret before looking back to Emilio, “You owe me for ruining my plans.” He muttered, really taking a close look at Emilio now, making sure the man didn’t look as poorly as his dog. “Go sit. He’s not going anywhere and you should know I’m a good doctor to my patients.” 

—

“Still don’t want to confuse him. And like I said, he likes it.” He wasn’t sure it was true, but only because he wasn’t sure Perro felt anything more than indifference towards everything except food and treats. Perro wouldn’t care if he left, either, not really, but the relief when Masami said he wouldn’t have to was still palpable. He nodded as the vet insisted that he would have to wait somewhere other than the room. He didn’t like it, but it made sense. Perro was good at picking up on his moods. He’d noticed that much early on. 

With another brief glance into Perro’s cage — and one into the only other occupied cage in the room, holding some kind of slinky cat — Emilio huffed and waved an arm in Masami’s direction. “What plans did you have? You were already here.” In spite of the words, there was no bite to his tone. In fact, anyone who knew him well enough to pick up on it would recognize the gratitude in the words. Emilio didn’t tend to say thank you, either due to his general lack of manners or because Rhett had smacked the back of his head for it one too many times, but he could express his gratefulness in other ways. And he did feel a little bad for ruining whatever plans Masami might have had, even if he’d never admit to that aloud. Tapping on Perro’s cage once and muttering a quiet “Pórtate bien,” he ducked out of the room and made his way to the front room to settle into one of the hard plastic chairs.

—

“I’ll tell you later.” Masami muttered and moved past the human to head for the other room. He didn’t look forward to telling the family they had to go, but the sooner they buried their dead the better, it would be harder to take a body out of town during the daytime. He was just hoping they didn’t run into what was left of the hunters. He didn’t want to see more of them on his table. He told them it was time to go, explaining that the emergency that came was actually rather mild but would still need a full check up and he needed the room. It was better than saying he had a human threatening to camp out in his alleyway though he wasn’t sure just how much of the conversation between him and Emilio they had already heard. 

The problem with shapeshifters was always their good ears. Still if they knew he was lying they didn’t say anything and just nodded. He helped them wrap the body of the jaguar in sheets, trying his best to be respectful and starting to feel like shit all over again at the sight of blood dried in the golden fur. Masami was thinking he should have at least cleaned the kid up, but there was no time for that now. The doctor made sure the sheet was tucked together tightly so it wouldn’t fall open when his brother picked it up. He tensed as the kid’s mom gave him a hug and thanked him for trying, he didn’t deserve that. What good was him trying when it hadn’t helped at all? Still he gave the woman an awkward pat on the back before leaving the room so they could collect themselves and decide where they were taking the young man without Masmai listening in. 

He shuffled into the front room, reaching over the counter to grab the ashtray Janice kept by her computer. He fumbled for his cigarettes before remembering he smoked his last available one when he was waiting in the hallway for the family to say their goodbyes. “Fuck.”Masami pinched the bridge of his nose, setting the ashtray down on the counter and turning to face the man who was sitting in one of the waiting room’s chairs. “I was going to go out, get drunk and let someone take me home for the evening before you showed up. It’s been a shit night.” Now he was stuck being sober without his cigarettes to take the edge off. Plus he had to deal with this human coming around and panicking over a simple cold. Normally he wouldn’t haven indeed if he really thought about it, he liked Emilio so far and would have helped it was just a terrible day for him to show up. 

—

Masami was clearly in a state. It was like an entirely different person from the man Emilio had met the last time he was here. That Masami had been confident and sure of himself, unwilling to take any of the considerable amount of shit the hunter threw his way. But this one…

It was funny, what death did to people when the deceased was someone they felt responsible for. What happened in Mexico had changed Emilio on a fundamental level, had ripped out pieces of himself that he’d never get back, but it wasn’t the first time death had shifted his perspective. Part of being a hunter, his uncle told him once, was doing all you could do and learning to live with it when it still wasn’t enough. He’d been too late to save people before, had watched people bleed out because the monster had been slain when the damage was already done. It sucked. Every goddamn time, it fucking sucked. It made you feel like your heart was being cut out of your chest, like you were the one bleeding into the dirt. If it was between him and somebody else, Emilio would take that blow every goddamn time. Given the way Masami was acting now, he felt the same.

He tried not to eavesdrop as the vet went back into the room with the people and the corpse, but enhanced senses made it hard. It wasn’t as if he could simply choose not to hear what was happening, and that old, ever-present paranoia wouldn’t let him intentionally tune it out, either. He heard the woman thank Masami, and while he couldn’t see the vet’s reaction, he could imagine it. He’d been there, too. The weight of a gratitude you thought you hadn’t earned was a heavy thing. It could crush you without trying.

Glancing up as Masami returned to the room, Emilio watched the man fumble with his ashtray when he realized he’d smoked his last cigarette. Wordlessly, the hunter pulled his own pack from his pocket and opened it, pulling one out and putting it between his teeth before holding the pack out to Masami to offer him one as well. It definitely wasn’t the same brand the vet smoked — his had smelled vanilla-y and smooth while Emilio’s were cheap and rough — but it’d probably be better than nothing. “I’ve got whiskey,” he announced, “but you’re not coming home with me. Not that you’re not pretty, doc, but I don’t want you knowing where I live.”

—

Masami paused when Emilio offered a cigarette, eventually he grabbed the ash tray and made his way over to the chair next to Emilio's, dropping the ashtray on the armrest between them  before tugging a cigarette out and holding it in his mouth as he sat down. “The feeling is mutual and I don’t think either of us want to go to a hotel.” He mumbled as he pulled out his lighter and leaned over to let Emilio catch a light as he lit his own cigarette. No hotel, no homes, that left the clinic and while Masami had been frisky on the backroom beds before; he didn’t really think now was a good time to indulge in that here. So he was stuck with shitty cigarettes, shitty whiskey and a man who thankfully wasn’t also shitty company, so far. “Pass me the whiskey.” 

Normally Masami avoided hard liquor but he figured tonight it’d be fine. He was in the clinic after all and didn’t plan to get so drunk he lost control of his shifting. He didn’t trust Emilio completely yet and showing off he was a Kitsune was a dangerous gamble with strangers, Unlike the other shifters, hunters had a strange obsession with hunting his kind’s fur and Masami didn’t know what kind of connections Emilio might have to such people just yet. It was another layer of stress to add on top of everything else that happened tonight. He did his best to let that particular layer go. The detective didn’t hurt him last time they met and he doubted he’d do it now while Masami was treating Perro. "Why did you come here? There's an emergency vet clinic in town that actually treats dogs."

Masami figured Emilio had been frazzled by Perro getting sick if how pathetic he looked coming in was anything to go by, but a quick google search on his phone would have revealed the pet hospital. The fox thought back on how the human had responded so poorly to being called 'dad' and wondered if that had anything to do with it, though he was sure if he asked the other man would just dodge the question like he had before. It was frustrating but the doctor understood the want for privacy. He himself hardly shared what had happened in his past, not even his sort of adopted son knew. Grief tore a horrible hole in his soul that only seemed to grow each time he spoke of it and if Emilio's reaction was anything to go by then the man had a similar tear somewhere. They barely knew each other so it was better to just let it go, then again get drunk enough and most anything would slip past your defenses. Just another reason to take it easy on the whiskey he guessed. 

—

“You take me to a hotel, sweetheart, you better be planning on paying for it,” Emilio replied dryly, leaning forward to light his cigarette with Masami’s lighter. He took a long drag, letting the smoke settle into his lungs and holding it there for a moment before releasing it with a sigh. He hadn’t realized how stressed he’d been about the damn dog until now, hadn’t realized how much it was weighing on him. He reminded himself, silently, that Perro would be just fine. He figured Masami was plenty of things, but he certainly didn’t take him for a liar. He wouldn’t tell Emilio the dog was all right just to make him feel better. That wasn’t his kind of move. 

Pulling the flask from his jacket, he took a swig and passed it over to Masami. The cheap whiskey burned going down his throat but left a pleasant warmth in its wake, and a numbness that Emilio hadn’t stopped chasing for years now. He considered Masami’s question for a moment, taking the flask back and tapping his finger against the cool metal. “I don’t know the guy in the emergency clinic in town,” he replied with a shrug. “You patched me up. Didn’t kill me. Didn’t rob me. And you said you were a vet.” It was the closest he’d come to admitting that he trusted Masami, even if only a little. He wouldn’t take Perro somewhere he wasn’t familiar with, not with the paranoia that tore at his chest insisting that everyone was out to hit him where it hurt. He’d known Masami would take care of the dog. In the moment, that had been all that mattered.

He’d also known Masami wouldn’t ask many questions. He’d been curious last time, sure, but when a stranger was dragged into your clinic more or less bleeding out, it was fair to wonder about a few things. Masami had dropped it a lot quicker than most when Emilio begged for his wedding ring back but refused any offer to call his spouse, didn’t push when the detective wouldn’t share details regarding what had landed him in his precarious position. He hadn’t asked where the dog came from, hadn’t mentioned the way Emilio tensed and froze at the word dad. That was the kind of customer service you probably couldn’t get at the emergency clinic in town, he figured. “And the place in town probably wouldn’t let me smoke inside,” he added, taking another drag from his cigarette as he said it. 

—

“I doubt you’re good enough to bother paying for it, that's why we’re still sitting here.” Masami let the whiskey settle in his stomach, not fighting Emilio when he took it back but not reaching for it again either. He just needed enough to take off the edge of the night and the cheap cigarette was doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to settling his moods. He still felt like shit but it was slowly becoming manageable, less like it was going to swallow him whole and more like it was simply tugging at his limbs. He knew this wouldn’t last forever, he almost dreaded any incoming quiet moment where he’d be left to his own thoughts. He knew they’d focus on his failure to save the kid. Granted he knew he wasn’t the one to blame for the horrible wounds on the young man’s body. Hunters had done that, probably without a care as to whether or not the target they caught was the right one. 

The vet raised a hand, resting it on the scars left on his neck. Hunters had never been a positive thing in Masami’s life. Too often they had forced him into a corner making his only option of escaping to fight. The scars on his neck came from a particularly nasty encounter where one hunter had used a barbed collar on his neck and in his panic, Masami had caused the collar to pierce his skin. He couldn’t remember exactly how he got out, it was one of those rare times where fear had overrun his senses. The fox never reacted well to being captured, it was even worse when he was placed somewhere small. It was the reason his clinic was rather spacious and why he only had two exam rooms. The basement was also left as open as possible even if it housed the x-ray machine. He hated the basement, it was so easy for the walls to feel like they were closing in on him down there. Thankfully Janice handled the x-rays. 

He was brought out of his thoughts when Emilio answered his question. He supposed it made sense that Emilio would choose someone he knew over a complete stranger. Still Emilio had only met him once and while they had spent maybe a good hour together it didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, he guessed he should be a little glad the human sought him out. It meant he had faith in Masami’s abilities as a vet if nothing else which was strangely comforting. “The guy at the emergency clinic is just a normal guy…probably.” He muttered between drags on his cigarette. “You’re right though, he wouldn’t have let you smoke inside.” Had Emilio come to him beaten half to death again, Masami wouldn’t be allowing him to smoke either, even if he was bribed with one as well. His addiction to nicotine still took a backseat when it came to patient health. 

—

“You’re just saying that because you know you wouldn’t be able to handle me,” Emilio shot back. He could practically feel Masami’s thoughts filling the air between them, tangible things clawing and scrambling for purchase. He’d heard it said before that trying and failing was better than never trying at all. He suspected whoever had first said it had never experienced a failure quite like this. Trying and failing ached in a way few things ever could. You could lose yourself in the sea of guilt that followed.

And right now, he could tell Masami was drowning. The vet seemed lost in his thoughts, and Emilio made no move to pull him from them, choosing instead to settle back into the stiff plastic chair at his back and take another swig from his flask. Now, without the weight of concern that had driven him here sitting heavy on his shoulders, the familiar exhaustion that came with avoiding sleep at all costs was settling back in. Emilio tended to push through it until it was no longer physically possible to do so, the nightmares that plagued his sleep far more excruciating than the weariness that came with denying it. Right now, it wasn’t so bad. He figured he could make it another day before his body stopped giving him a choice on whether or not to sleep. Two if he kept enough coffee on hand. It meant he’d be able to keep his promise to Masami about not sleeping here, at least.

Huffing a quiet laugh, Emilio took another drag of his cigarette and shook his head. “It’s the ‘probably’ that bothers me.” In a town like this one, you could never be too sure about that kind of thing. And while Emilio was pretty sure no one here had any idea who or what he was unless he’d told them, he wasn’t about to operate based on assumptions. All it would take was one person recognizing him as a Cortez, and this place would be swarming with leftover enemies from Mexico who’d love to be the one to put him in the ground. Emilio might not care much what happened to him… but he would feel a little bad if he brought on an infestation. Wicked’s Rest had enough problems as it was. “See, being able to smoke inside is on the ‘must-have’ list for me when it comes to choosing a vet. No negociable.” 

—

“I’ve dealt with men bigger than you in bed just fine.” Masami looked over at the human sitting beside him as he knocked off a few ashes into the tray, “You’re free to prove me wrong sometime.” The vet found that even though he was falling into a comfortable back and forth with Emilio, he meant his words. He had no reason not to offer later, the human was handsome and if they ever got over their suspicion of one another he might even let Emilio come home with him for a change. Then again he could end up never seeing the other man after tonight. It wouldn’t be that odd, some patients walked out and never came back. Was just the nature of Wicked’s Rest. He knew this just as he knew he couldn’t save everyone that came to him for help.  Neither thought offered comfort, but taking in the voice next to him did oddly enough. 

“If that’s one of your requirements then you’re going to be stuck with me as a vet.”  Masami really took in Emilio’s state now. “You look like shit.” He mumbled out and resisted the urge to reach out to check Emilio’s temperature with his hand. He cursed the fact that even though he fucked up earlier, the urge to be a doctor to those around him took control. Emilio looked worn out and Masmi didn’t think it was just from the worry that came with the dog. Sure it was something taxing but not to this extent. He was dying to get his hands on the other to find out if there was something wrong but held back and opted to just staring and taking in what information he could with his eyes. “If you’re tired you should sleep, I’m not going to run off with your dog.” The chairs they were in weren’t the most comfortable but they would suffice for a quick nap. 

For what seemed like the tenth time tonight Masami berated himself for being so easy, but his nature was to make sure the idiot next to him was well off. Humans were so easily put off balance by things. A lack of sleep or too much could end up killing them. If this man died where would that leave his dog? Plus he didn’t want him passing out involuntarily in the clinic again, Emilio was a hassle to move on his own. He pinched the bridge of his nose, he really didn’t need to worry about this human now. It wasn’t something he wanted to add on top of his responsibilities tonight yet here he was. He lowered his hand and furrowed his brows as he looked Emilio over again. He couldn’t help the words that slipped out, “You’re safe here so take the time to rest.” 

—

“I might be bigger than you think,” Emilio deadpanned, though there was a spark of amusement behind his eyes. Now that the concern and anxiety was subsiding with the promise that Perro would be all right, he felt comfortable enough to fall back into the easy back and forth he and Masami had established the last time he was here, when it was him on the table. “You gotta sweet talk me first. I’m not easy.” That was a definite lie — plenty of regulars in Wicked’s Rest’s bar scene could attest to as much — but he wasn’t about to let Masami win the ‘game’ that easily. 

He nodded his head, taking another drag from the cigarette. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me, too.” Masami hadn’t kicked him out yet, which he figured was a good sign. Having a go-to vet in town was probably a good thing if he was going to keep the damn dog. And having someone on hand who could stitch him up if things got too rough for him to handle on his own might not be the worst thing in the world, either. 

It was only when Masami turned the conversation towards him that Emilio stiffened a little, hand unconsciously tightening around the flask. “And here I thought you were trying to charm me,” he said dryly, taking a long swig of whiskey to ease his suddenly dry throat. “I’m not tired, doc. Appreciate the offer, but I’m good.” He doubted Masami would be quite as welcoming with his offer to sleep when the nightmares kicked in. Emilio didn’t usually yell in his sleep… but he didn’t usually sleep in plastic chairs in half-unfamiliar veterinarian offices, either. If he dozed off here, he was sure to make one hell of a racket. 

—

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Masami shot back, this really was better than letting himself linger on the events of the day. It felt normal as if the two had been doing this for years rather than just a night or two. It slightly annoyed him, he didn’t want another friend Janice was enough for him at the moment plus he could tell this particular ‘friend’ would come with more headaches than he probably wanted to deal with. “I don’t do sweet talk either you want it or you don’t.” Masami had never been shy about the act or inquiring if the person trying to butter him up at the bar was interested. He found it was the fastest way to get what he wanted and tended to cost less money in liquor than having a full conversation did. If the person wasn't into it then they’d leave him alone which was another bonus. He had a couple of regular partners that knew the routine and would approach him when he came to the bar knowing Masami hardly went to that particular spot just to get drunk. If he wanted that he would have gone somewhere else. It was a little depressing to think he could be in bed tangled up with one of them right now instead of playing nurse to a dog with a cold and his owner. 

 “Like I said I don’t do sweet talking.” Masami listened now with his heightened hearing to catch anything that might be off about Emilio besides the obvious exhaustion. “I wouldn’t be a good doctor if I didn’t show some concern every now and then.” It was obvious Emilio wanted him to drop it though so he obliged for now. “If you pass out I’m leaving you on the floor.” He wouldn’t, well he’d at least roll him over onto a blanket. He’d done that last time and used it to drag Emilio to the recovery room, though this time he’d probably just drag him behind the desk. If he could avoid that room for the rest of the night he would. He knew the blood in the exam room would be a hassle to clean off if left to sit for the whole night but it was better than facing it again so soon. 

—

Masami was quick with his retorts in a way that reminded Emilio a little of Juliana. Not the way she’d been towards the end, when the world had worn them down and they’d argued and fought more often than they’d done anything else, but the way she was at the start when everything was fresh and easy. He wasn’t sure, sometimes, if it hurt more to think of her like that or in the more realistic sense. It was why he tried not to think of her at all. It was so much easier that way, so much simpler. And so much easier said than done. He huffed at Masami’s statement all the same, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not sure if you deserve to see it.” Though he had to admit, he did appreciate Masami’s ‘methods.’ He’d been much the same since Juliana’s death. Never flirting, just laying all the options on the table and allowing the other person to take him or leave him. It usually wasn’t hard to find someone willing to do the former.

“Maybe you should start. You won’t have anyone to share their cigarettes with you if you go around hurting my feelings.” The statement was dry in a way that showed that no feelings were genuinely hurt, though that didn’t mean Emilio particularly liked the way Masami was looking at him right now. Like he was worried. Like Emilio was still a thing worth worrying about. It was the same way Rhett had looked at him back before Emilio left him behind. It wasn’t an expression he liked seeing; it always left his stomach churning and his chest tight. “If I pass out, you can dump me in the alley,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “But I don’t make a habit of passing out in front of strangers when I haven’t had the shit kicked out of me.” Though at this point, he wasn’t sure he could call Masami a stranger anymore. The guy had seen him in a pretty vulnerable state the last time he was here. That tended to graduate someone from stranger to acquaintance in Emilio’s book.

—

Masami had been having a shit day but he was starting to think Emilio’s was worse, maybe the dog had done a bigger number on the other man than he initially thought. Masami wasn’t a therapist though and there seemed to be an understanding between the two to not pry without invitation. “Now I’m not sure I want to see it with how hard you’re playing to get.” He put his hand on his palm, still keeping his gaze on Emilio. For a moment he let his eyes shift to the golden color they held in his fox form to try and see if any spirit was stuck to the man making him so tired, when he confirmed it wasn’t the case his eyes returned to their seemingly natural brown and he leaned back letting his head rest against the wall behind the chair eyes closing as he took a long drag on his cigarette.  This really was a problem he couldn’t help with it seemed. 

The scars on his neck were in full view with the way his tilted head showed off his throat. “If you didn’t share I’d have just used doodrdash to bring me some.” He was sure someone would be up, humans always seemed in desperate need of money. Thankfully Masami had 500 years worth of savings in his bank account that he had to transfer every now and then to a supposedly younger version of himself. “If I didn’t want you in the alley way before I’m not going to put you there now.” Masami wasn’t going to drag him all the way back out the back door, others might come in needing help and while he would have liked to be closed tonight it seemed a little pointless if he was stuck here anyhow. ”Who knows you might still get your ass beat, we have a long night ahead of us.” 

—

“If you’re not willing to put in the work, you don’t deserve it anyway,” Emilio countered with a snort. He leaned back in the chair, tired in a bone-aching kind of way that had become familiar to him since the massacre in Mexico. He didn’t tend to sleep until he had to these days, abusing that built-in slayer ability that made sleep the kind of thing he needed rarer than most people. Though tonight, he thought he might be more tired than he’d originally believed. For a moment, he could have sworn Masami’s eyes changed colors, shifting into something unnatural before melting back to their usual brown. It was so fast that he was sure he must have imagined it, and he shook his head slightly to knock some sense back into himself. Maybe he really was losing it, this time.

Doordash. Emilio wasn’t familiar with the term, but it didn’t seem like a person. He made a note of it, if only because the idea of having a service that could bring you cigarettes at ass o’clock in the morning sounded like something he ought to be aware of. “Yeah, but you’d have a shit time waiting on them.” He closed his eyes as he took another long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke settle into his lungs for a moment. “Careful, doc. You keep worrying like that, I’m going to think you care.” He sighed, leaning forward again lest he fall asleep in spite of his insistence that he wasn’t tired. “And I wouldn’t get my ass beat. I don’t exactly make a habit of that, you know.”

—

“Are you even worth the work?” Masami didn’t bother opening his eyes, he wouldn’t fall asleep but he could at least pretend to rest. Maybe it would trick his mind into giving him some peace or a little boost of energy. However without his eyes, his ears were paying more attention. They were picking up the shuffling of the family in the backroom as they made their way out finally and the sound of Emilio’s heartbeat. He tried to focus on Emilio more than the family, counting his heartbeats till the sound of the backdoor clicking behind them was heard. “Seems like the others went home.” He mumbled out softly. The good mood he’d been building up was quickly tanking. He sighed and opened his eyes, taking another long drag on his cigarette and letting the smoke sit in his lungs for longer this time before letting it out. 

“Better than begging for a cigarette.” Masami didn’t beg unless it was under special circumstances. Masami raised his brow at the way Emilio leaned forward to fight off sleep, ‘idiot’, he thought. The man was so resistant to follow the doctor’s suggestions he was even refusing to sleep, hopefully he didn’t act that way with the checklist he was going to give him for how to properly care for Perro while he was sick. A lot of cleaning was going to be involved to make sure whatever got him sick wouldn’t linger in Emilio’s apartment. “Unfortunately for you it’s my job to care… as much as I can anyway.” Masami stared at Emilio, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” He had only had to treat Emilio once so far but the other exuded ‘I put myself in dangerous situations’ energy. 

—

“Always gotten rave reviews.” Like Masami, Emilio listened to the family as they left. He was a little surprised when the doctor seemed to hear the faint sounds of the door clicking shut just as he did but not as much as he probably should have been. He’d suspected Masami wasn’t entirely human since the first time he’d met him, and confirmed it with Perro’s friendly reaction towards him tonight. He wasn’t a vampire — something Emilio found a relief — but there were plenty of other things that would give him enhanced hearing. Some kind of shifter seemed likely. Emilio’s money was on werewolf. It’d explain the sharp ears, at least. In any case, he couldn’t exactly admit to having heard the family’s departure himself without Masami wondering why a human had hearing that good, so he nodded without confirming that he was already aware of it.

Huffing, the slayer glanced over to Masami with a faint smirk. “There are better things to beg for,” he agreed. He much preferred the suggestive conversation to the one wrought with concern, utterly disinterested in Masami’s insistence that caring was in his job description. “You’re a vet,” he pointed out. “It’s your job to care about the dog, not me. He’s a lot more receptive to it, anyway.” And he deserved it far more. Emilio hadn’t exactly earned anyone looking out for him. Not when the number of people he’d failed must rank in the thousands by now, with his own goddamn daughter topping the list. No, it was better for Masami to focus his attention on Perro. For everyone. “You’re seeing it right now, aren’t you? Here I am, not getting my ass beat. In real time. Hell of a show.”

—

“Have you? From whom exactly? I need to question their judgment.” Masami didn’t doubt the others words but he wasn’t about to admit it and inflate the man’s ego over his performance in bed. When Emilio didn’t react to the family shutting the back door, Masami felt relieved. It meant Emilio was normal, just an average human that wouldn’t pose a threat to him for the most part, as long as he kept his mouth shut about the clinic to others then Emilio was harmless. Good, he didn’t want to deal with abnormal humans, especially hunters. If the other man had turned out to be one of them it would have put a rather large dent in their budding friendship. There were too many bad memories there of innocent people hurt by the hands of hunters, himself included. His body had the scars of his past fights that never faded despite the centuries that passed. It kept the memories fresh in his mind, he couldn’t shove them into the closet like he did with so many others. 

“I’m a vet and a doctor, I’ve had enough time in my life to do both.” 500 years left a lot of downtime to be filled and the fox had always had an interest in medicines, though the vet he met really set Masami along his current path. How long ago was it that he had run into that old man? The problem with being alive for so long was that time started to bleed together, years passing hardly meant anything anymore. He supposed it was good for the guilt to have so many years to let it go, though he never seemed to fully manage it. His mistakes always seemed more ready to jump out at him than any of the good memories he had. “Like I said the night is still young, for all I know someone who has a problem with you could barge in here at any moment. You give off the feeling of someone who rubs others the wrong way a bit too easily.” 

—

“Don’t tend to stick around long enough to get their names and contact information these days.” Not since Juliana’s death, in any case. Losing the one person who’d ever really made him feel secure — and losing her in more ways than one, considering their strained relationship at the time of her death — had made the idea of monogamy a fickle, dangerous thing. Sleeping with someone and sticking around long enough to learn their name and learn what you liked about them meant opening yourself up to things Emilio wasn’t ready to let himself have. In his experience, having those things only ever meant losing them, at the end of the day. Of course, friendships were the same. Losing friends was just as painful as losing the other thing, and Masami was quickly worming his way into that category of friendship. Given the smirk ghosting his features, Emilio would bet the bastard knew as much, too.

Of course, it might have offered some relief to know it went both ways. Maybe Emilio didn’t entirely hate Masami, but Masami wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to kick him out quite as much as he was pretending to be, either. The concern might have been touching if it weren’t so goddamn annoying. “I rub plenty of people the wrong way,” he replied honestly, “but I don’t make a habit of leading them here. I know how to shake a tail. Wouldn’t want to get Perro into trouble.” Or Masami, though he wouldn’t admit that one aloud. 

—

“If you don’t stick around then how do you know they enjoyed it?” Masami was similar though, if the person wasn’t one of his regular partners then knowing their name was a little pointless. He only had two consistent partners and they knew the ritual well enough. They didn’t have his phone number or knew the location of his clinic and they never asked for it. They knew where to find him if he was interested. He didn’t know anything about them either, besides their names and really he liked it that way. If they ever stopped showing up then he could simply take it as them not needing him anymore. It had happened a couple of times, though sometimes they did come back after being gone for a few months. Masami hadn’t been in a romantic relationship since his last wife, the pain from her loss and the loss of another child was enough to keep him from trying again for a long while. Being a single man drew looks from a lot of people who saw it as abnormal but eventually he gave up trying to fit in with what  the people of the past deemed ‘normal’. 

“At least you’re honest.” Masami teased a little and knocked some ash off his cigarette. Though if someone ever did follow Emilio back to his clinic he was sure to hold it over the human’s head. Speaking of the dog, Masami should probably get up to go check on the little guy, though he was hesitant to do so. He was just starting to feel better thanks to the conversation and the cigarettes, and if the dog was sleeping he didn’t want to wake him up. The poor thing had seemed tired when he came in and a warm bed was sure to have lulled him to rest by now. “Speaking of your dog, you need him vaccinated.” 

—

“They tend to let me know pretty clearly during,” Emilio replied, smirking faintly. There were plenty of areas where his self esteem fell short. He wasn’t a good man, hadn’t been a particularly good father, son, or brother. He’d definitely been a shit husband, and Juliana had been more than willing to point that out to him towards the end of things. But when it came to the purely physical stuff? He knew he was pretty good. Whether it was a fight or a fuck, his body was never the thing that let him down. His head, of course, was a different matter entirely… but that very rarely, if ever, came into play in the bedroom. 

Snorting, he shrugged his shoulders at Masami’s remark. Honest was a relative term. Emilio wouldn’t hide the fact that people tended to want him dead, but he wouldn’t divulge why, either. He wouldn’t tell Masami about the blood on his hands, or the way that blood went back so many generations that there were plenty of things out there that’d want him dead the second they learned his last name. Let the vet assume that the targets on Emilio’s back were put there by his personality or his day job. It was much easier to swallow than the real truth. He glanced back to the doctor at the mention of the dog, his brow furrowing curiously. The blank, confused expression on his face said plenty, but he spoke all the same with a tone that matched the lost look. “Need him what?” 

—

“People can fake it.” Masami had never experienced someone doing that, as far as he knew, but he remembered there was a scene about it in some movie, not that movies were exactly the best place to get your knowledge but he figured that particular scene was true. Plus he was running out of witty comebacks and was scraping the bottom of the barrel at this point. 

“Vaccinated. You know, shots that help prevent him from getting certain diseases.” Masami knew the other man didn’t seem all that bright but he was hoping he knew what a vaccine was, it was something so basic then again there were always those parents that came up with weird reasons not to vaccinate their kids. If Emilio was raised by parents like those it would be reasonable he didn’t know about the shots, well as long as he avoided listening to the news which also seemed possible for the man currently sitting in his chair. The vet could feel his stress rising again as his fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose, “You did get vaccinated didn’t you?” He wasn’t sure what to do if the answer was no, he could give Emilio the vaccines needed for adults but he wasn’t sure what good it would do to give him his childhood vaccines now or if the other man would even accept a shot from him in the first place. 

—

“Not the kind of courtesy they tend to offer strangers.” And that was the only kind of person Emilio went home with, these days. Sure, Javi came over on nights when neither of them felt like putting forth the effort to find someone else, but that was the closest Emilio had come to anything beyond a one night stand in years now. Since Juliana’s death, sex was more of a method of stress relief than it was a way of getting close to anyone. 

The blank expression remained on Emilio’s face as Masami elaborated. “You want to shoot him? I thought you were supposed to be good at this.” Of course, it would surprise no one who’d known them that the Cortezes weren’t exactly ‘in’ with modern medicine. As hunters, they hadn’t really needed to be. They weren’t really susceptible to the kinds of diseases that plagued baseline humans, and on the rare occasions where they did get sick, it passed quickly. The closest Emilio had ever come to visiting an actual doctor was Masami, who was now looking at him like he’d grown a second head. He bristled a little at the question, offended despite not knowing what it meant. Or, maybe more accurately, offended because he didn’t know what it meant. “No, obviously not. I’m not a dog.”

—

Masami stared hard at Emilio, “Are you a fucking idiot? No, don’t answer that.” He raised a finger to point at Emilio to cut off any retort the man might muster before rubbing a hand down his face. “Vaccines aren’t bullets, they’re medicine loaded into a syringe and injected into the body. Humans and dogs get them as well as cats and a whole host of other animals.” He put the cigarette back into his mouth and took another drag, sure he’d met people who were against vaccines but he’d never met one so ignorant of what one was before. Just what kind of upbringing did this man have? Was he from a cult? That wouldn’t be so strange considering Wicked’s Rest was crawling with cults, something about the town seemed to make it the perfect breeding ground for them. That would explain the man’s paranoid nature as well, he knew cults often instilled a sense of fear of the world plus Emilio said he had people who were out for his life which also added to the cult theory. 

“You’re going to bring Perro back here in a week. I’m going to give him his vaccines and give you your vaccines. You at least need a flu shot for fuck’s sake.” Masami was no longer bothered by the events that happened tonight, no his mood had shifted towards annoyance and concern for the man sitting next to him. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or angry for such a distraction. He hoped whatever cult raised the man would do a better job at keeping their members so he wouldn’t have to run into another Emilio, the stress was sure to be taking off a few years of his life. 

—

Emilio bristled, anger burning in his eyes at the insult. Masami cut him off before he could retort, something that only made that anger burn hotter. He settled for a glare, expression dark as he stared the doctor down. It probably would have been more intimidating to someone who hadn’t seen him with the shit kicked out of him, or if he were a little less exhausted. Still, he liked to think it carried some heat. “I knew that,” he lied. “It’s different in Spanish, is all.” It was probably true enough; English rarely made sense, and things were often just different enough to be confusing. That wasn’t where Emilio’s confusion came from, of course, but Masami didn’t need to know that. The vet probably already knew a little too much about him thanks to what he might have seen while patching the slayer up the last time he’d been here. The scars marring Emilio’s body were difficult to miss.

“I don’t get the flu,” Emilio protested, the back of his neck itching at the idea of needles injecting things into his skin. He trusted Masami — he wouldn’t have brought Perro here if he didn’t — but that didn’t mean he wanted him doing that. He’d patched Emilio up well enough the last time he’d been here, sure, but he was still a vet for animals and not a doctor for people. Emilio didn’t want him sticking him with dog medicine. “I’ve never had one before, and I’m fine. You can give them to Perro, but no es necesario para mí.” 

–

Masami ignored the look he was receiving knowing that the worst thing Emilio was going to do was leave his clinic and clog up his alley way. “Fair enough, still the fact you’ve never had one is concerning.” He huffed and put out the nub that was now his cigarette and didn’t bother asking the man currently glaring at him for another. He would just have to hold off till he got home or steal one if Emilio ever went to the bathroom. He knew his addiction to cigarettes was unhealthy but over his many years the things had yet to kill him so he wasn’t about to stop now, even if they did impose upon his health later down the line he doubted he’d stop smoking. It was one of the things he allowed himself to comfort his nerves, those with shorter lives then him sure seemed to get on them a lot. 

“That’s what they all say till they get the flu.” Masami had seen enough idiots complain about getting one simple shot then coming to him later sick with the flu and upset from the fact they got it. Still he’d let it go, the other man seemed flighty enough with Masami just patching him up and he wouldn’t sneak it on the guy, that wasn’t how Masami did things. At least Emilio agreed to let his dog get the shots. “Fine, in a week bring the dog back and I’ll give him his first round of shots. I’ll give you a piece of paper with the appointment information you can stick to your fridge, actually come in through the front this time.” With that said he stood up and walked over to the desk, grabbing the pad that had the pre-made appointment slip on it and quickly filling it out for Emilio, not bothering to check for available times since he was letting the man in on Sunday when the clinic was normally closed. Janice couldn’t complain about him over working if it was just one patient.  He also took the time to write all the things Emilio would need to clean in his apartment on the back. Once that was done he stuffed the paper in Emilio’s hand, “I’m going to check on your dog. His fluids have to be done by now.” He mumbled.

–

“I don’t think it was on the top of anyone’s list of concerns.” For a lot of reasons, really. Even if childhood illnesses were a thing that plagued slayers the way they plagued normal kids, even if anyone had ever had any reason to worry that some sickness might be the thing that took out Emilio instead of a blade or a pair of teeth, he doubted his mother would have bothered with vaccinations. Any kid that could be taken down with a disease was a kid too weak to be worth keeping around, after all, just like any kid who didn’t survive the strict training regimen Elena Cortez put her children through got what they deserved. Weakness wasn’t an option for any hunter kids, but it was much less of one for the Cortezes. To carry a name like that, you had to be strong enough to lift it off the ground. Maybe Masami didn’t understand that, but Emilio did. He always had, even when he didn’t necessarily want that understanding. 

He huffed as the vet spoke again, rolling his eyes and waving a dismissive hand in Masami’s direction. “If I get the flu, you can say I told you so,” he offered. “But I wouldn’t hold my breath for it, if I were you.” He couldn’t say too much here, not without risking Masami finding out the truth. And while his initial hesitance in allowing Masami to find out who he really was had been built in distrust, there was something else to it now. Something Emilio probably wouldn’t admit to. If Masami learned he was a hunter, he probably wouldn’t like him much anymore. And Emilio found that he wanted Masami to like him. At least more than he usually wanted anyone to. “A week. Okay. I’ll come in the front.” Probably. Unless he got cagey, unless someone near the front of the building set off his paranoia, unless he was feeling particularly difficult, unless, unless, unless. Picking the lock on the back door was easier, sometimes, than the exposure that came with walking in through the front. Taking the paper from Masami, Emilio offered him a brief nod. As the doctor turned, the slayer sighed. “Hey, doc,” he called out, sucking his teeth thoughtfully. “I appreciate this. You helping the dog.” It wasn’t thank you — he still heard Rhett’s voice in his head any time he uttered that particular phrase — but it was about as close as he could get to it. It was a lot, coming from Emilio. It was worth a lot.

[technetiumai]

15 Questions | 15 People

Thank you for tagging me @raenestee and @cutestkilla! These are so much fun! I love learning more about you guys!

Oh, I’m supposed to tag 15 people? 😬 Do I even know 15 people?

1. Are you named after anyone?

My legal first name was my father’s grandmother’s name, but the only people who have ever called me that were people reading it off of official paperwork. My mom liked that my initials could also be a name and decided, before I was born, to call me that.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I seriously cry so much. I probably cried a little bit like half an hour ago because of a song I was listening to or something. But I guess that was like, I’m at work and I’m holding it together crying, not full on crying… I’m like 90% sure I was fully crying because of either a vlogbrothers video, a Rush song reaction video, a Glass Onion or Knives Out reaction video, or maybe a Dimension 20 clip either yesterday or the day before…

3. Do you have kids?

Yes, twin eight-year-olds. 

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Hmmmm. I think so? It used to be one of my defining characteristics, but I don’t really know if it is anymore. I definitely use snark fairly constantly. The sass flows freely.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

How the heck would I know? I don’t keep track... I’m sure it can’t always be the same thing, but I have no idea. Everything and nothing.

6. What’s your eye color?

Green. A it’s a true green in the center part and the outline of the iris, then most of it is like a turquoise with gold flecks in it that looks green when you zoom out. Not that anyone but me has ever looked close enough to notice 😂. That may be what all green eyes look like, I don’t know.

7. Scary movie or happy endings?

Happy endings, I guess. I usually find scary movies mostly boring. Not that I don’t ever get scared or anything, it’s just… just being scared isn’t very entertaining for me I guess. Also scary movies tend to very quickly break suspension of disbelief so usually it’s hard to a stay in a brain space that’s really open to being scared. I think there’s just something I don’t get about the genre, and maybe a campiness that’s not really my thing. The Ring is the only “scary movie” that jumps to mind where I was like in it. I know there has to be more though, my brain is just empty. What was the question? Oh, I mean… happy ending still has to a have a good journey though, right? And I’m not opposed to tragedy. I guess my point is that I don’t like either for either’s sake, but if it’s a good movie, it’s a good movie. 

8. Any special talents?

Define special—Ummmm… No, I’m gonna go with no. I have no idea. Throwing themed parties? Maybe? 

9. Where were you born?

Des Moines, Iowa. I read an article once that ranked Des Moines as the #1 metro area in the US to live in, in terms of something, but I can’t remember what... I think that pretty much sums it up.

10. What are your hobbies?

Craft stuff. None of it is actually interesting to talk about. 

11. Do you have any pets?

We have an ancient, calico Manx cat; she’s roughly 130 years old in cat years (factoring in the comparatively short lifespan of her breed). We have a four year old black cat, who a former coworker found abandoned by his (the cat’s, not the coworker’s) mom in the garage of a Masonic lodge soon after he was born. So we’ve had him since he was the size of a like a peach or something,  and now he weighs like 15 pounds. We also have two sweet little Guinea pig ladies, who are six years old and were already four when we adopted them. They’re so cute 😖🤗. I’m getting some baby-fever-style urges to get more pets though… more cats, or maybe rats… I want a pot bellied pig, but I don’t really think I could give it enough attention. I also want a goat, but that’s not legal where I live.

12. What sports do you play/have you played?

Lol, I wish.

13. How tall are you?

5'5"

14. Favorite subject at school?

Always math. I was never good enough that I got into super advanced classes, but it felt like I was just spending a bunch of time solving puzzles and getting rewarded for it; seemed like a great deal to me. Plus it didn’t have as much of the social weight that the rest of them did for me. 

15. Dream job?

I really want to keep part of Raen’s answer 😅 “Anything that I don’t dread going to every day, something that doesn’t feel like it’s sucking the life out of me.” That really is the dream. I really would just like to constantly be doing something creative collaboratively with other people. I’m not really picky about what it is though. Or if I could solve intermediate algebra problems all day—that’d be amazing. That’s not very realistic though. That’s what computers are for. If I could get paid what I’m paid now to like organize things or file things or something, I would love that.

@onepintobean @ivelovedhimthroughworse @captain-aralias @fatalfangirl 

I can’t do tags; you know the drill.