#you know when you hear foxes fighting each other next to the bins

[eyra]

15, 30

hello dear.

15. what is a song you are obsessed with at the moment?

I periodically get obsessed with the soundtrack from The Green Knight and I'm happy to report it's been back on repeat this week.

30. Do you sing along to songs in the car? In the shower? other places?

yes always everywhere, I have a beautiful voice I actually should have a recording contract x

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 39

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Without getting lost or chased around, the distance from where they were to Jake’s house was comparatively quite short. But it still felt like an eternity. Jake had to keep stopping while Dusty struggled to keep up. It was hard to believe he had managed to come so far with how sick he was. Dusty didn’t even have the energy to acknowledge Talltail when he brushed against the dog's scruffy brown side.

When they arrived on the stone path that led to Jake’s home, Talltail spotted their twoleg already outside, looking up and down the street. When it turned and spotted Jake and Dusty, it began hobbling toward them and Talltail ducked just out of sight and watched from a distance. As soon as Dusty saw his twoleg, he apparently decided then and there he was done struggling to keep walking, and lay down in the sparse grass near the houses. The twoleg tried for a moment to tug the dog along but quickly seemed to give up and just sat there stroking Dusty’s head while Jake padded around and meowed at him anxiously, worried questions it of course had no way of understanding.

Talltail was content to leave Dusty to the twolegs care, but he still wanted to get to Jake so he could ensure he’d be ok. Waiting a long time for some sign of Jake to re-emerge from the house, Talltail began to let himself droop from exhaustion while tucked in a hidden corner of the garden. Which of course, had been a terrible idea. His dreams were as dreadful as ever, and they were always worse when he was upset. No matter how many times it happened, he never got used to it.

This time the sensation that he couldn’t breath was more intense than ever. The tunnels felt stiflingly hot instead of freezing like they normally were. Somehow the strange heat was worse than the empty cold. His throat burned, the walls felt brittle, almost charred. Were the glowing amber lights in the darkness eyes or embers? Which was worse? He had an overwhelming urge to run, but of course he couldn’t. He never could.

He awoke with a start and hissed in pain as the surge of fear made him kick out hard, and his hind foot connected with a thorny rose bush. Crossly licking the prickles from his pad, he mumbled, "I should know by now trying to rest when I’m worried is a bad idea..."

He had gotten no farther. Still he was punished with these dreams, and each time he woke from them he was increasingly more angry than afraid. I'm so tired of this…

Instead of sleeping, Talltail began patrolling the entire fence perimeter, slipping around the houses and keeping all his senses trained on the forest bordering the town. If he had to fight a whole patrol himself to get them to leave Jake alone, he would. But the cat he sought was still out there, betraying his family and scheming with ShadowClan. And Sparrow had just watched while his fox-hearted allies cornered Jake! He would have sat back and laughed while they killed him! Jake never harmed anyone, Sparrow had to have known that, he just didn’t care. Would he have joined in if Talltail’s sudden arrival hadn’t frightened him off?

Talltail dared step further into the trees, feeling a furious growl rising in his throat as he searched desperately for that faint familiar scent among the stale crossings of ShadowClan. When this mission was finished, he could breathe again. His desperation to be free of it made his paws itch terribly.

Maybe it would be better to go now. There was nothing he could do to help Jake, and he’d complicated things enough by pulling him away from his sick friend. ShadowClan hasn’t come back here, and whatever they’re doing doesn’t involve Jake. If Jake’s not out there, surely there’s no reason for them to track him. Besides, it’s more likely me they’d want to shut up over him.

He was so focused on the scent trails ahead, he didn’t hear the noisy pawsteps behind him until they were nearly right at his heels. Talltail whipped around with a menacing hiss, and was greeted with a startled brown tortoiseshell who immediately backed up with a yelp. Talltail recognized the paranoid nosy kittypet and immediately strained out of his defensive crouch.

“Nutmeg? Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak at all!” Nutmeg yelped.

Talltail winced. She was probably right. He really was focused on the wrong things if a kittypet could walk up to him so easily.

“I’m sorry about that, but what are you doing out here? I thought you hated the woods.”

“I do,” Nutmeg growled, licking her fur to flatten it. “Believe me I do, but...It’s Jake.”

“Jake?” Talltail immediately felt claws of anxiety grip hard at his chest. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“I think so--not to Jake, but...rather his dog.” Nutmeg shuffled her paws. “I’m not good with these things, but I feel awful. However much I don’t exactly trust you, Jake does, and he’s a mess. He ran out into the streets saying he had to find Dusty and I couldn't catch up to him. So I followed you.”

Dusty. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“I thought Jake’s twoleg--or his housefolk, was taking care of Dusty?”

“He was, at least I saw him leave in the car with the dog. I don’t know what happened, Jake was too upset to talk to me and then he ran off. Look I…”

Talltail hadn’t seen the guarded molly look so distressed before. She must have been concerned if she braved even a pawstep into the trees.

“I just don’t know what to do. Quince’s locked inside, and I don’t want to leave him alone. Will you come back?”

Of course, there was no other choice.

If he found Sparrow once after several moons, then he could do it again when he needed to. After he found Jake.

***

It didn’t take long for Talltail to catch Jake’s scent. It criss-crossed all over the place, but was easy to follow. The trail led out the same hole in the fence they’d both escaped from before. It was bigger now, and there were deep claw marks in the dirt where Talltail assumed Dusty had dug his way out.

He found Jake sniffing around a nearby alley, looking disheveled and mumbling to himself.

“Jake?” Talltail mewed gently. “What are you doing out here?”

Jake’s head shot up, looking bewildered for a moment before running to Talltail and bumping his head against his chest. Talltail pressed his nose to the back of Jake’s head and licked down some of his bristled fur.

“I thought you’d have gone off,” Jake mumbled

“Your friends are worried,” Talltail said. “So was I. Of course I'm still here.”

Jake looked up at him, “I have to find Dusty, he’s gone again.”

“How could he be gone again? Wasn’t he with your housefolk?”

“I woke up and he wasn’t here. He must have got out, I have to find him, he can’t be out on his own.” Jake left his side and resumed sniffing around the alleyway.

“Ok.” Talltail padded up behind him and gave him a small reassuring nuzzle. “I’ll look with you.”

They didn’t wander far from the house. Jake followed Dusty’s stale trail out from under  the fence and Talltail followed him, passively suggesting new places they hadn’t looked for a fresh scent. His own nose told him Dusty’s trail was only left over from days earlier. But he followed Jake down sidewalks checking everything, pushing through bushes and looking behind bins that were certainly too small to reasonably hide a big dog. Talltail pressed close beside Jake when he stopped to rest. The usually bright and chipper tom’s whiskers drooped miserably and his tail collected debris from dragging on the ground.

The sun rose and dipped again in the sky, and not many words passed between them. Talltail didn’t know what to do other than offer what little his company provided. It didn’t feel like enough. They’d ended up back where they started for the third time, and Jake was sitting with his paws tucked under him, watching the sun sink beneath the trees, casting a deep blue shade across the twoleg place and the woods beyond.

“Perhaps…” Talltail began, “There’s somewhere in the park's direction we didn’t catch?”

Jake didn't reply for a long time, his gaze dragged down to stare at the crumpled grass. Talltail’s heart broke seeing him look so wretched.

“No…” he said at last, so quietly Talltail scarcely heard it.

“No? Why not?”

Jake’s chin sunk to rest on the cold ground. “I know there’s no point, Talltail. I knew that before, I just…” his voice trembled and broke off. Talltail quietly groomed his ears while Jake took a shaky breath. “Sometimes housefolk take us away somewhere when we’re ill, and they don’t come back. I knew something was really wrong. But I didn’t want to believe it. I just didn’t want to go back to the house. It’s too empty. It feels wrong. I really wanted to hope that the obvious wasn’t true but...Dusty’s not ever coming back.”

Talltail rested his muzzle on Jake’s head. He didn’t know what twolegs did with their ill housemates, but the truth had been plain to him as well. “I’m sorry,” he said, though he knew it wouldn’t do much.

“I’m sorry,” Jake moaned. “I’m wasting your time keeping you here.”

“I’m here because I want to be. You haven’t made me do anything.” He couldn’t imagine Jake feeling that way. If anything, it was him who had been wasting Jake’s time.

“I don’t know what to do now,” Jake mewed, muffled by the grass he buried his face in “I should go home but...”

“I understand,” Talltail said. He meant it. He knew how it felt to have trouble feeling home somewhere that was suddenly quieter and emptier, and forever different for the lack of someone there. But even so, they couldn’t stay out in the open near the woods. Talltail stood slowly, not sure if the idea he had was any better, but if he knew grief, he knew Jake would probably let himself be led anywhere, as long as he didn’t have to make a decision himself.

Talltail pressed his nose gently to Jake's cheek. “Come on, Jake. We can’t stay here forever.”

Eventually Jake got to his shaky paws and followed. They squeezed back under the fence and padded around to the side of Jake's house. Talltail leapt onto the fence and waited for Jake to join him. There were paw holds on the window and up a wooden ladder leaning against the wall that made the climb to the top easier.

Talltail and Jake clambered up onto the rough tiles of the roof, away from anyone below that may try to pester them, and high enough to see for a distance.

The sun was gone now, giving way to a darkening sky slowly filling with stars. Jake pressed against Talltail and for a long while they were quiet, just watching the world silently darken. Talltail wished he knew what to say to Jake, but he felt from experience that platitudes would feel empty.

Over on the far horizon, he saw dark clouds gathering, and a tremor in the air against his whiskers warned there may be a storm rolling in over those hills. The first in a long time. But how could he worry about that now? The storm would have to be pushed out of his mind as he looked back to Jake and passively started to groom his fur, picking out the debris and leaves that stuck to him from their long fruitless search.

Talltail was almost surprised when Jake finally spoke. “You know…” he rasped, his mew weak. “I know a lot of cats think it’s silly, the way I am. How close I was with Dusty. Even other cats that live with dogs just ignore them. But Dusty was different. I saw him even when I was a kit living on the farm. I was closer to him than my littermates. He didn’t speak, but it felt like he really understood me. Even if he wasn’t related to me in any way, or even a cat…” Jake's voice broke off and he tried to compose himself. “He was my family. I loved that fluff-brained dog...I don’t know what to do now. I’ve never lost anyone before...” Jake paused, his sad emerald eyes glimmered dark viridian in the dusk. “Or I suppose I have, but I never let myself dwell on it.”

“Yeah?”

“It was a similar feeling when my mom went away. A little bit before I met you actually. It was so long ago that now I don’t even know how to feel about it. She just didn’t come back to the barn one day, and I don’t actually know if she’s alive or not. It’s easier to imagine she’s just...gone off adventuring somewhere. I didn’t have to feel as sad about it. It’s so much harder to accept that someone just...suddenly isn’t there anymore. Just vanished and you can’t see them again. I don’t even know how to make sense of it. But I can’t ignore it this time.”

Talltail rested his head on Jake’s shoulder, wishing he could find the words to articulate his understanding. He’d never gotten to share a vigil with any cat either. At the time, he thought not seeing it up close was better, but perhaps them just disappearing had only served to make the acceptance that much harder.

“I don’t know how I couldn’t have realized,” Jake sniffed. “If I’d known, I’d have...I don’t know...I just wasn’t ready for this all of a sudden.”

“I don’t know that anyone is ever really ready,” Talltail said. “It just...happens anyway.”

Jake looked up at him, “I’ve been thinking about the spirits in the stars you told me about.”

“Yeah. We always believed that you're more than your body. Like there’s a part of you that exists outside of it. And that part never disappears. It just goes to a new place.”

“Do you think there’s a place like that for dogs too?”

Talltail thought for a moment. He wouldn’t have thought so before, but then, he didn’t know there was so much world outside his own when he was young. He didn’t think about the sky stretching far beyond their territory, and yet it did. And then he thought about what he’d heard from Hen and Reena so long ago. Everyone had ghosts.

“I’ll bet there is,” Talltail said at last. “Reena once told me they had their own spirits, that everyone does, whether they realize it or not. There’s a lot of stars. The sky is big enough.”

The moon crawled up into the sky as they watched the stars twinkle above their heads.

“I should go back...” Jake murmured.

Talltail was almost surprised. “Are you sure? If you’re not ready…”

“I’m not. But...I’ll try anyway...Thank you, Talltail.”

Talltail followed close behind him as he leaped down from the roof. Back in the garden, they saw that the back glass door was open and the fireplace inside cast a warm glow around the dark room. His housefolk must have been waiting... Talltail thought. Jake turned and pressed his muzzle under Talltail’s chin for a long moment, and then squeezed back inside.

Talltail wouldn’t follow him inside. This was a grief that didn’t belong to him. Jake’s twoleg was sat down in front of his fire, staring into it. In his paw something shiny caught the light. It was a tag hanging off of the collar that Dusty always wore around his neck. Jake walked tentatively up to him and headbutted the twoleg’s long leg. He reached down and lifted Jake up, holding him close to his chest. The twoleg appeared to be speaking to Jake as he stroked his fur, eyes strangely wet in the warm ember light of the small contained fire while Jake purred up at him.

Talltail never used to imagine a twoleg feeling much of anything, but somehow he finally understood in a way, how Jake bonded to such a different creature. There were no two alike things living in this house, but they still loved each other, and they both grieved all the same.

It was not a family Talltail would ever be a part of. As he watched alone from the dark, with nothing left to distract him, there came that creeping heavy guilt that he’d been trying to push off throughout the day. It was impossible not to feel that Jake would have been better off if he’d never come here. Never drawn him out of his home, never took him away from his denmate in the last days of his life so he could help Talltail with his own needs... Maybe Dusty’s illness wouldn’t have been exacerbated if the dog hadn't tried to follow so far.

Talltail wanted to tell Jake a lot of things, about how grateful he was, how much he’d come to care for him, perhaps even more than that. He wanted to tell Jake he was sorry too, for seemingly bringing so much misfortune with his presence, although he knew that sentiment wouldn’t be accepted.

Talltail desperately didn’t want to go, and that was how he knew that to stay longer would be more selfish than anything. Jake was safe and home now, and should be left in peace to sort out his grief, not tempted into pointless danger again.

I’m sorry I’m going to leave so suddenly. But the sooner I’m gone, the sooner you can figure out how to go on with your life as it was... Maybe he’d be able to return later and offer a proper goodbye. But probably not. Talltail turned from the house, squeezed under the fence, and padded into the yawning shadows of woodland beyond.

He stared down at his paws as he trudged along, knowing Jake wouldn’t have cause to chase after him this time and feeling that lonely realization stab him deep in the gut.

The dark woods around him felt deep and empty. He was on his own at last, as he had always sought to be. What now?

You know what you have to do, the cruel voice in the back of his head hissed. It’s the only thing left to do now.

Talltail curled his lip. Fine, he thought in bitter resignation. Let’s get this over with then. He was sick of this. Sick of the nightmares. Sick of the guilt. At least after this, his subconscious would have nothing left to taunt him with.

A sudden chill of night wind blew cold at his back, sending a shiver up his spine. He turned to look up at the sky, and was shocked to see the dark clouds that had hung on the horizon had blown in so fast, choking out the sparse moonlight. The air was muggy and thick, and his fur prickled with apprehension at the electricity in the air. A wise cat would be taking cover. But a storm wasn’t going to stop him now. No more hiding.

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[swimyghost]

Possum Chemistry

A backstory about Martha and Steve nobody asked for yet here we are. Rubi and Marie belong to @self-insert-nonsense so fuck yeah.

---

Rubi grunted as she tossed the garbage bag into the bin. She rolled his shoulder a few times before making her way back to the painting awaiting her in her studio.

He can work with dead bodies but garbage? Noooo, that's too 'unhygienic'. 

She sighed. Rubi genuinely loved her husband despite all the crimes against humanity that took place in their shed on a daily basis and the aura of superiority he always liked to exude, but his lack of care for basic household chores was starting to get on her nerves.

She opened the backdoor to get back inside when he heard a pair of happy squeaks. Rubi turned her gaze behind her. In the distance was a pair of opossums happily walking side by side. One of them was considerably larger than the other and had a tired gaze while the other one had a tuft of hair in front of their eyes. The larger one suddenly ran ahead, leaving the tuff-haired possum by her lonesome. The possum disappeared into the bushes and reappeared with a fresh daisy in their mouth. A series of happy trills exploded from the other possum as they happily accepted their gift. The two briefly touched noses, causing a bashful stare between them, before they continued their walk into the forest, this time with the flower in tow. 

Oh my fucking God, that's the cutest thing I've ever seen. Rubi thought, her mind growing fuzzy at the idea of her husband Herbert doing something similar.

"It is, isn't it?"

Startled, Rubi leaped to the side, afraid someone had broken into her yard. Instead, she saw that a dirty blonde-haired teen was leaning over her fence, their arms crossed with their head resting between them. Several possum joeys scurried all over their worn red sweatshirt, eagerly looking at their surroundings. Rubi sighed before glaring at the teenager.

"It's not nice to scare people, Neighbor... Or read minds for that matter," Rubi said, hesitantly adding the last part of that sentence.

"I'm sorry and I can't read minds," Neighbor corrected, "I only knew what you were thinking because your face was like an open book."

Rubi blushed but Neighbor continued, "Though I have to agree with you, Martha and Steve are adorable. Yeah, they're adorable all year round but they get extra adorable on this day."

"What's today?" Rubi asked.

Carefully hopping the fence, Neighbor answered her question, "It's their anniversary. That's why I'm watching the joeys."

The aforementioned baby possums eagerly reached out to grab Rubi's black locks as she blinked in surprise. "It's their anniversary? Why didn't they tell me? I could've drawn something for them!"

If you would've told me three years ago I would be upset that I didn't know the anniversary of a pair of possums, I would've called you crazy. Rubi said internally, slowly realizing how weird the situation was. She was brought back to reality as one of the joeys yanked on her hair.

"They probably forgot and it's not my place to share their personal business so I didn't say anything," Neighbor explained.

Rubi nodded, glancing back at the forest. She wished she would have taken a picture of that moment so she could shove it in Herbert's face. Was it so wrong that she wanted her husband to be just as romantic as Steve?

"Wanna know how they got together?"

"There's a story behind that?" Rubi questioned.

"Yes, but it's long so I think you should sit down." Neighbor said. 

Rubi did just that, letting herself be overwhelmed with baby possums. Neighbor took their place beside her and let out a smile.

"It took place a couple of years ago..."

---

Martha knew she wasn't young anymore. That was not implying she was ancient, but her younger sisters from an even younger litter already had begun courting some jacks while she barely found any man tolerable. Her mother had told her that she was too picky but she couldn't help it; she wanted a real man, not a scoundrel. It also didn't help that human television had ruined her idea of love. She wanted a jack to sweep her off her paws and be there to tend to her every whim. Martha knew she was being too demanding, but seeing Mr. Darcy fall deeply in love with Elizabeth after spending so long trying to be the type of snobbish man both she and Elizabeth loathed filled her heart with joy and a desire to have that type of romance. 

Her mother had called her a cotton-headed fool, but Martha thought of herself as a hopeless romantic.

The jill had already made a home for herself in an old badger set, filling her home with human trinkets and flowers. Every day was the same routine: wake up either when the sun was high or when it had set and began to forage or hunt, bring the meal back home and get, go back out and forge some more, stop by the nearby creek and get a drink, see if any of the nearby humans are watching something interesting on the television, then go home. It was a simple routine, but it made her happy. The only part of her day that she dreaded was drinking from the creek.

The creek was often the gathering spot from hotheaded jacks. As most possums her age and younger were burdened with the task of single-handedly raising the joeys, she was often the lone female in a cloud of raging testosterone. She felt appalled by the sort of things they would discuss, such as having slept with multiple jills, attacking humans for the fun of it, and purposely starting fights with the possum's rivals, the raccoons. All that talk reminded her of her brother, who was single like her but it was his own decision. 

That all changed one day when she met a special jack. 

It was a warmer night and the sun was still barely peeking out from beyond the horizon, but Martha was rather thirsty. The heat was getting to all of the animals of the forest, including her. She decided to make a quick detour to the creek to simply drink and wash up before going to forage for grubs. Martha was careful not to be out in the open as it was dangerous for any marsupial to be seen by a predator such as a coyote or a fox. Once she reached the stream, the peaceful lull of the swift waters slapping against the rocks were shattered the high-pitched, crude laughter of nearby jacks. They situated themselves atop a nearby hill and were acting like hooligans, shoving each other and daring one another to leap into the waters below. They would occasionally tear into a vole or squirrel, letting bits of meat and blood drip from their jaws and onto the floor. Martha viewed them as savages. 

The jill quickly began her descent into the creek and let the water rest on the bottom of her stomach. The chill was relaxing and even though she had to tune out the immature calls from the males above, Martha was still enjoying the refreshing sensation. As she was trying to quickly finish up her bath, she saw him.

He was an older jack, probably only a moon or two older then she was. He was much larger than the other jacks, both in size and in weight, and held a sleepy gaze the entire time he padded towards the shore across from Martha. Although he held a tired demeanor, once he plunged his muzzle into the waters, Martha could see the kindness and intellect behind his brown eyes. His lovely gray and white fur was well groomed, not like the jacks that were sneering at both him and her above the pair and other males Martha had met. He seemed so gentle, carefully sitting himself down to get the best drink he could. Martha was instantly smitten.

She kept her eyes on him longer than she intended to as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. Embarrassed, the jill dove out of the water and raced away. She could faintly hear the taunts of the other males, but the look the larger male had given her set Martha's heart ablaze. She had done it, she finally met the one she was destined to be with. Her Mr. Darcy. Her Jack Dawson. Her Rick Blaine. 

But she knew she couldn't just rush these things. Human television had taught her she had to be slow, but affirmative. That's why she arrived at the same time the next day, eagerly to meet her potential suitor. She ignored the calls of the jacks who happened to appear as well and only waited for her beloved. However, despite the fact she waited almost an entire evening, he never showed up. Martha was puzzled. Perhaps he was busy doing something else? The forest was a large place after all so it wouldn't be surprising if he got caught up in other affairs. So, after having a quick bite to eat, Martha returned home hoping tomorrow would give her something different. But it was the same thing that day too. Same as the next day, and the day after that, and then the next. Five sunrises had passed and Martha still hadn't met her soulmate again. Her mother's words rang in her head: a cotton-headed fool. Perhaps she had invented the jack to fill the void in her heart. Martha was even more lonely than she started out with. On the sixth day, she decided to start her regular routine up again, although she was much more somber. When she finally reached the creek, she was surprised to see that the subject of her affections was laying across the creek nibbling on a circular human food item. It looked like bread but the jill wasn't too sure. Whatever he was eating didn't matter to her, the jack was here and she was going to make a good first impression. Well, a good second impression, Martha remembered had awkwardly fled the first time they met. She groomed herself to perfection behind a tree before stepping out. Martha tried her best to seem nonchalant yet interested at the same time, like a human jill in one of those human television programs where everyone wore fancy suits and dresses (Martha hoped to one day wear a dress as pretty as those jills wore). Martha made her way to the creek, one eye on the jack, and started to drink. Although she tried to appear uncaring, she couldn't help but grow flustered every time he laid eyes on her. It was like her body was set ablaze by the fires of passion.

This went on for several days. The jack's odd schedule never made any sense to Martha, but she loved the days when the two would sneak looks at each other from across the creek. While the forbidden love aspect was romantic at first, the invisible border between them was growing larger and larger every day. Martha was confused about the next course of action. All of the human stories told her that their relationship would form naturally but it just felt stagnant. Martha didn't wanna lose this jack. She barely knew him, yes, but that's why she wanted to get together with him, to know everything about the lovely man she had fallen in love with. That's why she had decided to turn to The Old Ways. In the Deep Forest was said to house a being older than time itself. It heard all and had the answers. All it asked for was one thing: a vegetable. 

Martha, desperate for answers, found herself a wild radish and began the trek into the deep part of the forest, deeper than most animals dared to venture. The sun began to rise and she knew that predators would rise as well. The forest grew thick with ancient trees and plants twice the size of her. Every noise set her heart racing again. The scent of a fox, coyote, and other strange creatures filled her nostrils once she padded over a log that was a natural bridge over a stream. Mud caked her body and she could feel herself heaving. A cotton-headed fool was the only type of animal who would do something like this, search for a being that might not even exist. Martha thought about turning around for the several hundredth time that whole journey but she couldn't. Not after all this time.

A crack of a twig shot her back to the present. Martha dropped the radish from her jaws and let out a long hiss, but it felt fake; the exhaustion was too strong. Martha was afraid because if she needed to run, she'd be dead.

Instead of a fox or coyote, a long-legged deer with the largest antlers Martha had ever seen stepped out. He looked young, but he had an aura of wisdom that radiated off him. He was bulky, but not overly muscular. His green eyes were teeming with hidden knowledge. He lowered him to Martha's level, offering her to climb on his back. Martha eagerly scrambled onto him, making sure to grab to radish before they took off. The deer didn't run, more liked glided across the forest floor. Leaves were kicked up in the air and floated around them like dancers. Martha was amazed by how bright everything suddenly became once they reached a circular pond surrounded by mossy trees and stones. The deer lowered itself, letting Martha slide off his back. Her body moved on autopilot. She walked towards to edge of the bottomless pool of water, dropped the radish in, and waited.

What is your question, marsupial? A voice erupted from the ground. 

Martha leaped back in terror. Was it a monster? After a few moments, the rumbling stopped and carefully crept back to the edge and asked her question.

Your love will blossom only if the boundaries are shattered and words are spoken. Gazes hold little to the power of speech. That is all.

The voice disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Martha was left with more questions than answers but the strange deer already has lowered back down, signaling it was time to go. Martha more hesitantly crept back on and the deer took off once more. The possum watched the unusual pond until it disappeared from sight. Martha noticed it had become dark and was surprised to see the moon and the stars. She wanted to ask the deer if time had really passed so fast but felt like she was already messing with something beyond her understanding.

The deer stopped at a certain point in the forest as if it were blocked by an invisible force. The jill thanked the deer, stepped off, and made her way home. It was midnight when she finally reached her den. Too exhausted to bother with appearances, Martha collapsed in her nest of moss and ferns. The only thing on the jill's mind was going to see the jack of her dreams. She would go to the creek once she did two things: make herself look presentable and find him a gift. Once she awoke to the sun high in the sky, only then did she notice a faint glow around her. Martha was worried, but not worried enough to miss her chance. She didn't care if she was a cotton-headed fool or blinded by love, Martha was going to make him her's and become his jill. After savaging around, she found a strange human food item by their silver cans of waste. A folded-over piece of flatbread with cheese, meats, and other cut vegetables. The scent made her mouth water, but she grabbed it and rushed over to the creek. She was ready to cross when someone strange was standing by her usual spot.

It was the jack, equally as well-groomed as she was and holding a gift, a branch covered it ripe wild berries. He too had the odd glow around him as well.

The two stared at each other. Martha's heart was pounding. Everything was perfect; the sounds of the creek, the sunlight cutting through the tree branches, the lack of anyone else, animal or human. It was perfect, all of it was. She just needed to step forward. However, the jack moved up first, setting the branch down and nosing it toward her. Martha nearly fainted on the spot. 

The two began to talk. Well, Martha spent most of the time talking. The jack, who she learned was named Steve (a wonderful name for such a handsome man), was a quiet soul but every time he spoke it was with purpose and he always added something to the conversation. Martha learned that his strange schedule was due to his strange sleep affliction in which he often found himself unable to sleep but when he could, would sleep for a long time. Steve had asked if she disliked him now. Martha was surprised as she had no reason to dislike him, he was perfect in her eyes. After their several hours-long chat, they simply sat pressed against each other, watching the water run by.

This became a common occurrence as the days slipped into weeks and into months. The time spent together was wonderful and Martha wanted it to last forever. However, spring had come after fall and winter became almost like a distant memory when she learned of her pregnancy. jills always knew when they were expecting, Martha's mother told her, and Martha was no different. All the signs had been there. The only problem she had was with Steve. It wasn't technically Steve, but males of the possum species had little to do with their babies. The jacks on creek's hill had all had babies but did nothing for them. Instead, they chase the next pretty face they saw. Martha knew it was selfish, but she wanted to stay with Steve. She didn't want him to leave her. So, despite wanting to see him, she decided to stay home and prepare a nest. Although her babies would go into her pouch and stay there for two and a half moons, she felt it necessary to be ready for anything. Besides, she needed to keep her mind off of Steve.

But the day soon came where she needed to visit him. She knew it wasn't fair for Steve to be left in the dark, especially since none of this was entirely his fault. So, on a calm spring morning, Martha nervously made the trek to the creek. Of course, Steve was waiting for her. He had been waiting for her all this time. The usually rational and collected Steve began to fret over the expecting mother, worried that something had happened to her. Martha's heart broke when she saw the worry in his eyes. Finally, once both of them all calmed down, Martha began to speak. She told him about the pregnancy, how far along she was, and her fears. She told him how she dreamed of meeting a man just like him and how she was so afraid to lose him. However, Martha told him that she couldn't make him stay and that, if he wanted to leave, he could and that she wouldn't hold it against him. Silence filled the clearing. All Martha could feel was his gaze on her. Her breathing grew louder but she tried to remain calm.

Suddenly, Steve pressed himself against Martha. Although he didn't say anything, the message was clear. Steve was going to stay, no matter what. Martha let out several happy squeaks and trills and buried her muzzle in his fur. Even Steve let out a couple of excited chirps. Once the two pulled away, the pair touched their noses together, excitedly waiting to see what the future held for the both of them.

---

"Wait, why was their love forbidden? And I never thought you'd be so... Detailed." Rubi said once the story came to a close.

"Well, blame Martha," Neighbor explained. "She's the one who always said it was forbidden because of the symbolism of them being split by the creek or whatever. Personally, I'm just happy Steve stayed. Martha is such a happy possum and I'd be sad to see her sad."

"Me too." Rubi agreed, stroking the back of a black-tufted joey. 

As if it was their cue, Steve and Martha slipped under the fence with Martha calling out to her babies. The joeys let go of Rubi and Neighbor and eagerly rushed towards their parents. Steve didn't make any noise as his children began to climb all over him. Martha chirped at Rubi and Neighbor, seemingly smiling at them.

"What did she say?" The older woman asked.

"Martha says thank you for watching her babies and that it was a wonderful anniversary. They have to go home though, it's growing late for the joeys." Neighbor translated.

The possums said their goodbyes (according to Neighbor) and left the yard. Neighbor stood up and stretched.

"I need to go home too. Mom's making a pot roast tonight. Don't you have to take care of Marie?" 

"Marie's with her grandmother," Rubi said, waving to Neighbor. "Have a good dinner! Thank you for the story."

"It’s no big deal. Later."

With a quick hop over the fence, Neighbor was gone. Rubi took this time to enter the shed. It was covered with science equipment and tools such as hammers and bone saws, but Rubi already knew how to maneuver around the well-lit area. Her black-haired husband didn't look up from his work, but already knew who it was.

"Hello, dear. What did you do today?"

"Painted mostly," Rubi said, wrapping her arms around Herbert's neck in a loose hug. "With Marie gone, it's easier to work without having to worry about her eating something."

"Well, that's certainly a plus," Herbert said, glancing up at Rubi before looking back down at the dull gray-skinned body in front of him.

"It was also Steve and Martha's anniversary today. Neighbor told me the story of how they met."

"Martha?" Herbert quickly looked up after hearing the name of his favorite possum. "Is she upset with me?"

"No, she and Steve didn't tell us and they weren't upset when I saw them. They looked very happy, actually."

"That's good. I was afraid I needed to whip up a hastily made gift for them." Herbert sighed in relief.

Rubi made a noncommittal hum, making circles with her finger around her husband's collar bone. "Herbert."

"Yes, dear?"

"I wanna have another baby."

"Well, I think that can certainly be arran- Wait, what?"

[thosekidswhohuntmonsters]

Seriously Hurt 

Summary: This time when Wade Wilson breaks into the Avenger’s Tower it isn’t just to piss Tony off, it’s to save the readers life. As the team, especially Tony, learns more about the reader they reach a crossroads. Can a person’s past be forgiven? Is it who you are now and not who you were then, that matters? Do people deserve a second chance? Bucky seems to think so. 

Word Count: 2708

Authors note: This will be a mini-series! I’m so excited!! If you want to be tagged either comment below, or go to my ask! 

For my “spicy ;)” content click: here

***if you reblog/comment on my fics there’s now a 110% chance you’ve made my heart flutter****

Tony rolled his eyes as he watched Wade enter the room. This was the third time Wade had broken into the tower, despite the top of the line security system that he himself had programmed.

“Well aren’t you the gift that keeps on giving”. Wade was unfazed by Tony’s sarcasm, besides he knew Tony secretly love their little game of cat and mouse. Stepping to the side Wade revealed the true reason for his visit.

He looked to Tony, “Don’t get your panties in a twist R2D2, I ain’t here for me today”. As Wade nudged your side you knew this was your turn to talk. Now, not only was Tony looking at you but both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

“I’m (y/n), and don’t worry I’m not nearly as much of a dick as Wade is”, you said before turning to wink at Wade. The room remained silent, everyone trying to understand where you fit in all of this.

Tony sipped from his coffee, “If he’s holding you against your will blink twice”. It was kinda strange to have all eyes on you, especially the eyes of such impressive people. You felt almost like an animal on display.

Wade began to double over in fake laughter, “Wow I didn’t know robots could make jokes! As much as I’d love to continue comedy hour, I’m going to cut to the chase here. I have a bad guy to fuck up, think the love child of Bin Laden and whoever made the ‘What does the Fox say’ song, and I need to know (y/n) here is safe”.

It was entertaining to see everyone try not to smile at Wade’s jokes, but fail miserably. As much as people loved to say that Wade was a lot of handle, it seemed as though they secretly felt that he was a lot better than most.

Placing down his mug Tony joked,“So I’m now a bed and breakfast? Stark’s Suites?”. You watched as Steve Rogers placed down the newspaper he’d been reading, obviously annoyed. He began to reason with Tony, “We can keep her safe Tony, why not?”.

The man you knew as the Winter Soldier began to smirk, “and besides she already told as us she’s not as much of a dick as Wade”. You began to smile yourself, they were being so welcoming to you.

Tony was still weary, “And why can’t she accompany your ‘lovely’ ass?”. Wade refrained from making a joke, even though Tony had kinda set himself up there. Instead he explained, “Because she’s what the twisted fuck wants, and I ain’t gonna allow that”.

It was a long story, and if it was told by Wade, it was even longer. He loved being dramatic. A picture is worth a thousand words, so you figured that showing would be better than telling.

You closed your eyes and slowly summoned your powers. Feeling a little dramatic yourself you decided to give them all a show. You began to feel the electricity in the tips of your fingers.

The men hadn’t yet realized, but you were changing the very makeup of the air around you. If you wanted you could make it thunder, you could engulf the room in flames, or you could make the room crumble to brick and ash with the snap of your fingers.

In order to not destroy the very place you were hoping to hide out in, you settled on your manipulation abilities. When you can change the manifestations of energy down to an atomic level, controlling minds is a piece of cake.

With only your mind you pulled Tony forward until he stood a few feet in front of you, conjured up an electrical current, and surrounded him in circle of electricity. Steve and Bucky both tensed, until they realized that Tony looked as calm as ever.

You’d placed him under a trance, in his mind he was on the most peaceful beach the world had to offer drinking mimosas with Pepper. For effect you slowly began to turn the electricity into flames, allowing them to flow downward from the top of the circle you’d created.

It was strangely beautiful, as the flames flowed like water, and it was like nothing anyone in the room had seen before. The men watched in amazement as you turned what looked like lighting into fire, and then let it fade completely before the flames could reach the floor.

With the flick of your wrist Tony awoke, “Okay.. F.R.I.D.A.Y. run back the security footage of the last minute please”. Tony projected a screen from his wrist, and watched your little show.

For a moment his mouth hung open, you’d rendered the man who always had something sarcastic to say, speechless. While he’d been out cold he’d had the most vivid dreams, but in reality you're engulfed him in a ring of fire and electricity that was nearly as high as the ceiling.

He turned to you, “You play with elements as if they’re nothing….I can see why someone would want to take advantage of that”. It was true, when they wrong people knew what you were capable of it had the potential to be catastrophic.

“Control the party in your pants, just let me know whether she’ll be safe here or not.”. As much as Wade loved to joke around, he was honestly concerned about your well being. He’d wanted you as far away from the fight as possible.

Of course Tony knew he was going to let you stay the moment after Wade first asked, but true to his nature he liked to bush buttons. He smirked, “With her Jedi mind-tricks, I don't think I have a choice”.

That was Tony’s version of a warm welcome. Immediately Wade pulled you into a hug, “Alright dickhead, give daddypool a nice goodbye hug”. And that was Wade’s version of a heartfelt goodbye.

Much to his dismay you kissed his cheek, “Tell Domino I say hi, and to make sure your uglyass doesn’t die on me. If you’re gone, who’s gonna scare the kids on halloween?”. You could hear Bucky try to stifle a laugh, and it cut through the tension of the moment.

Wade began to make his exit, “We could always show the kiddos what you look like before your morning coffee, that’s enough to make Trump crawl back to the hellhole he came from with his tail between his legs”.

That time it was Steve trying to hold back a laugh. Letting out a sigh you put on a smile and tried to pretend that Wade wasn’t about to get himself possibly killed..and all for you. Tony surprisingly came to your rescue, “Steve and I have a debriefing to attend, but Bucky can show you to your room”.

You gripped the straps of your backpack a little harder, “I was expecting a couch, knowing you a couch that costs more than both my kidneys, but a couch”. Tony smirked once again, he was really liking your sense of humor.

He placed his now empty coffee mug in the sink, “You’ve spent the past couple of months living with Wade Wilson, I think you deserve an actual bed”. Knowing went to quit, you simply nodded your head and thanked him.

Steve got up from the table, “It was nice meeting you (y/n), if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask”. So they weren’t just rumors, Steve Rogers was an actual angel sent down from heaven itself.

“And if you ever need any marshmallows toasted, I’m your girl”.

This time Steve didn’t hold back his laughter, and you realized that he was even more beautiful than people said. You could feel that the way everyone had been treating you was genuine and it made a world of a difference.

Once Steve and Tony left the kitchen, it was just you and Bucky. For a moment you just stood there unsure of what to say or do. It had finally settled in that Wade was off to go fight and you were left with strangers, kind and generous strangers, but strangers nonetheless.

Bucky got up from the table, “Why don’t I show you your room so you can put your things down, and then if you’re up for it we can have some real breakfast. No pressure”. You let out a sigh, that did sound like a good offer.

“Only if there’s waffles involved, yes pressure” you teased. Bucky smiled and you felt your heart begin to flutter. Between both him and Steve you’d have a heart attack by the end of the day.

Bucky began to lead you out of the kitchen, “There’s a reason waffles and win both begin with a ‘w’ doll”. Slowly but surely you felt yourself getting more comfortable. You couldn’t tell if you were flirting, or doll was 40’s slang for dude, but it was definitely distracting you.

As you walked through the tower you felt like you were in the most luxury maze the world had to offer. Everything looked too expensive to ever breath on, but it somehow managed to also feel cozy.

Suddenly becoming an avenger sounded more and more appealing. After what felt like forever, Bucky stopped in front of a room labeled “Little Witch”. Slowly he opened the door, “It used to be Wanda’s but her and Vision moved out”.

You’d heard about Wanda before, and in all honesty she’d sounded kickass. Her room was the perfect mixture of cozy and minimalistic. There was a tv, artwork on the walls, a guitar, a beautiful bed, and a desk.

“Well this sure beats sharing a bed with someone who snores like a fighter jet”.

While you weren’t completely lying, you knew that in reality you’d miss the company of sleeping next to Wade. He was the only one who could make your nightmares vanish with one bad joke.

Bucky walked toward the window, “How long have you and Wade known each other?”. It was half curiosity, and half wondering if he’d been flirting with a taken woman. He watched as you laughed to yourself.

You began to reminisce, “Too long...but not that long..everything after the lab just feels like a whole new world”. Bucky wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. Had you both been more connected than he’d thought?

Reading your body language he could tell that you’d felt as though you've shared too much and let something big slip. So maybe he had heard you correctly. Anyways, he’d never pry, he’d experienced enough of people poking and prodding to ever do it himself.

Trying to switch subjects you placed your bag down onto your new bed and asked, “So I was promised waffles?”. Bucky let things smoothly transition, and internally you let out a sigh of relief. He grinned, “You’re looking at the best waffle maker in all of Brooklyn”.

Bucky was going to cook you breakfast? Maybe you’d really went to the fight with Wade, died, and gone to heaven. You could feel your stomach beginning to grumble with the mention of food, “Wow, I didn’t know I was in the presence of such royalty”.

Teasingly he bowed, “It’s okay doll, I’m not holding my diamond-encrusted spatula so how were you supposed to know?”. To have the conversation flow so smoothly calmed your nerves.

You’d been afraid that the avengers were as uptight as Wade joked. Humor, especially the self-deprecating kind, was the key to handling all the complete and utter bullshit life threw your way.

If there was anything you’d learned from Wade it was that jokes were like a liferaft in a sea of despair.  Either you can let sadness swallow you whole, or laugh in its face. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth trying.

“Well your highness, however shall I repay you for my ungracious naivety?”.

Bucky grinned, were you flirting with him in old english? He found you surprisingly intoxicating. He tried to look regal, “Hmm since it was an honest mistake, and clearly not out of malice, I believe all would be forgiven over a movie ”.

You both were back out into the hallway now, “A movie?”. Was he already asking you on a date? For the first time in a long time you felt butterflies in your stomach. Bucky continued to lead you back toward the kitchen, “Preferably Disney”.

Although the world knew him as a trained assassin, his closest friends knew him as a huge disney fan. Bucky secretly blamed Steve for it, but the movies were so good that he couldn’t truly complain.

You jumped up and sat on the kitchen counter, “Lilo and Stitch?”. Bucky had begun to get the various ingredients from the fridge, and as his back was now to you, you couldn’t see his smile.

“Good choice”.

The kitchen was filled with laughter, the both of you enjoying how it felt to get along so effortlessly. It was rare that Bucky could feel comfortable around someone he’d just met, let alone really begin to like them.

You watched as he began to make the mix from scratch. You were amazed, “Wow so you’re not just a pretty face”. It was somewhat forward of you, but you were testing the waters. Bucky took the bait, “Just you wait and see doll”.

He’d matched your forwardness, and thus you both knew how interested the other was. Plus, now you knew doll was the same thing as babygirl or princess. But it sounded a lot better leaving his lips, as if he knew exactly how to drive a girl wild.

“I’m starting to think you’re a huge flirt and that whole cold and aloof assassin vibe is just a front”.

Bucky’s smirk grew. He enjoyed your teasing, “Oh doll, you should’ve seen me back in the day”. As he reminisced he started to laugh softly to himself. It was nice to feel like that part of his life wasn’t so far away for once.

Flirting with you had rekindled something deep within himself. You watched in delight as he finally poured the mix into the maker. Your stomach was louder than Wade’s snoring by now.

“If that waffle tastes as good as it smells, then I can only imagine how much of a lady killer you were”.

With the sound of footsteps you were both awoken from your little love trance. Sam hadn’t meant to ruin the moment, but he’d needed to find Bucky. He apologized, “Sorry, but Steve said he needs both of us in the conference room asap”.

Bucky turned to you, “Guess I’ll need a raincheck on that movie then (y/n)”. You nodded your head and smiled, trying to ignore how much you hated the thought of Bucky already leaving.

Sam looked truly sad, “It was nice to meet you (y/n)”. You told him the same and allowed him to leave the kitchen with Bucky. Although you were now alone, at least the waffles would be done in a minute or so.

With a sigh you tried to pull yourself up and remind yourself how great of a start this had already been. Bucky was more wonderful than you could’ve imagined, and he seemed to really like you too.

As much as this situation sucked, it seemed like the beginning of something good. Maybe the universe had finally felt bad for constantly handing you the shit- end of the stick, maybe for once things were about to change for the better.

“Steve, we can’t keep her here and you know that. She was in Pierce’s back pocket and in case you’ve forgotten that was the man who infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. in the name of HYDRA”.

Steve sighed, he wished that Tony had never done that digging because it had changed everything. It had revealed that you had some skeletons in your closet, some big ones, and that you possibly weren’t as innocent as you seemed.

They had reached a crossroads and were left wondering if you were just another Hydra assassin, or just an innocent person caught in the crossfire. Things were about to get serious, and some people were about to get seriously hurt.

if you enjoyed this fic please leave a comment! Or reblog! It lets me know that I should keep doing what I’m doing! Thanks for reading!! 

[whump-the-caretaker]

Shifter pt. 7

start / previous / about the characters / next

tws for this one: suicide attempt, implied noncon. There will be a brief summary at the top of the next part so that this can be skipped without missing anything.

Stay safe, friends.

He should never have slept. 

It was too much wasted time.

He should never have let this happen to Beck. 

On screen, Beck was demanding to know where Avery was while the man laid out materials and ignored him. 

He looked terrible, pale and grey, the black collar a stark contrast to his skin. His voice cracked (”what have you done to him?”) and then he was begging. Avery put his head between his knees and breathed through the wave of nausea. 

But no. He didn’t have fucking time to be sick. He didn’t have time to weep over how broken his husband looked, over the fact that even as he was being tortured, he was still only worried about Avery. He looked like he was dying. That man was killing him.

Avery grabbed the notebook and wrote as fast as he could. 

...

“Wings,” the man ordered. 

“Please, I’ll do whatever you ask, please, just tell me where he is.”

“Show me wings.”

“Please.”

“He’s being held elsewhere. Now, wings.”

Beck closed his eyes, frustrated lines forming between his eyebrows, and slipped down into the body of a snowy owl.

“I didn’t ask to see a bird, I asked for wings.”

(Alone in his room, nearly thirty hours later, Avery kicked against the bed in helpless rage.)

Beck retook his form, coughing to clear his throat of the collar’s stranglehold. “I’m only able to take the shape of living creatures. Real, existing ones.”

“You had feathers on your arms by the end of last night’s test. Whether you know how or not, you’re able to do it.”

“I--” Beck stared at him disbelievingly. “Fine. You’ll have to feed me. Actual food. There’s no way I have the strength to try anything I haven’t done a dozen times before.”

(Avery wanted to reach through the screen and kiss him, even as nervous tension followed the demand. He was being smart. Getting what he needed. He might actually have a shot at surviving.)

A few seconds passed as they stared each other down,completely silent even over the sensitive recording equipment. “All right. I’ll bring you a meal, and after you finish, you’ll shift yourself wings or I’ll find a way to make you.”

Beck shrank back and nodded, watching the man go before falling into panicked hyperventilation. He panted, clutching his arms over his chest and digging his nails into the skin, and somehow, miraculously, managed to get himself under control again in time to look coolly at the man as he entered.

(Avery detailed out the panic attack with time stamps and felt the violation, the betrayal of Beck’s brave front, strike his chest.)

The man had a full plate of food, a meal identical to the ones he’d brought Avery, and Beck ate it so fast Avery nearly threw his pen at the wall. 

When it was finished, and he’d all but licked it clean, he set the plate aside and looked up at the man.

“Shift.”

Beck closed his eyes and focused. Avery watched the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, but nothing happened. 

Avery hit pause and stood up to pace the room. He had to know what was happening now. This was hours ago. More than a day ago and getting longer by the minute. Was Beck alive? Was he in pain? Was he--

There was noise in the hallway, and he turned in time to see the man step around the corner with Beck in tow. 

He surged forward, and the moment Beck saw him, he did the same, stopping only when the leash from the collar--the collar now connected by way of a set of bars to cuffs around his wrists--ran out of slack.

Pointed ears peeked from his hair, tufted on the end with white fur. 

It wasn’t wings, but those damn sure weren’t human.

“Beck?”

He glanced anxiously back at the man holding the other end of the leash, but he was taking his sweet fucking time walking to Avery. A white fox tail twitched and snapped behind them. 

“Beck,” he called again, giving up on the handle and kicking the door. “Are you okay?”

Beck turned faced him again and nodded. “Yeah, Avery, I’m--” His eyes traveled to the screen behind Avery, and the color drained from his face. “What are you…”

“He’s transcribing for us. I’m sure he’s bored out of his mind.”

Beck gaped. “He’s--” He must have seen something frayed in Avery’s expression, because he started tugging at the leash to get to him. The man yanked back and Beck stumbled and choked. 

“Beck!”

“You’re watching?”

Avery resisted the urge to look back at the screen. He nodded. “Delayed. This is just after I left.”

“Oh.” Beck looked like he was shattering a little. 

“What happened?”

Beck shook his head and looked towards the TV, where his own face and body were frozen on display. 

“Beck, what’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened,” the man answered for him. “How’s your progress?” 

“I’ve finished three. Fuck, what am I going to see?”

“I’m sorry,” Beck gasped. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Please. None of this is your fault.”

“Avery, I--”

The man pulled on the leash. “I told you not to get unruly.”

“Stop it,” Avery growled. “Stop treating him like a fucking dog.”

“I’m sorry,” Beck repeated, straining to get closer as the man sighed in annoyance and started pulling him away. “Avery!”

Avery cursed and threw himself against the door, tugging uselessly at it with increasing desperation. “Beck!”

The moment they were out of sight, he spun to the TV and set the playback to fast forward. He didn’t have a notebook. He wasn’t writing it down. He was looking for what would make Beck break down at the thought of him seeing. What had happened to him? It wasn’t fucking nothing.

He slowed the film for each agonizing minute of experimenting:  the drop of two glass beads simultaneously that flooded the box with gas and seemed to lock Beck mid-shift and writhing. The shift to a fox and, with another glass bead, getting locked that way. The moment when the man opened the case and attached a leash, used it to lift Beck out in fox form and hold him still while securing the leash to cable, which ratcheted up the ceiling, recessed out of either of their reach. The rest, he fast-forwarded over. He didn’t need to (didn’t want to) hear the man’s near constant talking to himself.

He continued skipping forward, skimming over stretches where Beck, finally alone and shifting freely, fought with the leash. Human fingers couldn’t undo it, teeth and claws couldn’t break it. 

Finally, he went still, just a little trembling showing that the camera was still rolling, where he was sitting on the table. 

It hurt how long he sat like that, even as fast as Avery was skipping through the tape. 

He looked up and there was a defiant glint in his eye. 

Avery hit play, bringing it back to single speed. 

He knew that look. That look meant nothing good. It meant he had a plan. A terrible plan. Beck looked around, searching, but didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. 

Of all things, he shifted into a giant porcupine, and Avery watched in bafflement as he twisted and started pulling free dozens of quills with his mouth. 

“What are you doing?” he breathed, watching Beck with a frown. 

It went on a painfully long time until there was a small pile of heavy quills beside him. He shifted back to human, seemingly unharmed, and picked up the quills, rolling them in his fingers and holding one up like a dart. 

“Fuck, that’s smart,” Avery breathed when he saw him toss one and hit the button the man had used to raise the leash into the ceiling. Beck had never been good at fighting, but he was damn good at hitting at target. Avery would never make fun of him for scamming tourists at darts ever again.

The leash lowered by an inch.

He hit it again.

It was achingly slow, but eventually, he had enough slack to stand up and reach the cable holding it to the ceiling. 

Avery shivered with the knowledge that all this, no matter how clever, hadn’t worked. Beck had stood outside his door, collared and cuffed, not half an hour ago.

He watched Beck struggle with the connection. Watched him try every tool he could find in the cabinets and watched him give up, leaning on the table with his shoulders slumped and his head down.

It hurt to watch.

Eventually, he looked back towards the door, searching for something, and the wild look was still there. Avery felt a chill run down his spine and foreboding settle in his gut. Whatever happened next was what Beck so desperately didn’t want him to see. 

Beck stood up, and walked around the room. He picked up a scalpel. 

Was he planning to fight? There was no way that could end well. He knew it as well as Avery did, though, since he set it back down on the counter and left it there, looking pale and grim. 

Again, he looked in each cabinet, but they were nearly empty, save for the glass bobbles. He slammed the last one closed and looked back to the table where the experiments took place.

The determined set to jaw firmed. He walked back over to it and crouched down to look at something in its base. 

Brakes. 

He moved around it, popping each wheel until the table could move with only a little resistance, and then he climbed on top.

Avery froze.

What was he doing?

Slowly, so, so carefully, Beck got to his feet without disturbing the table. He reached up and grabbed the cable, it’s hook hanging at eye level.

“No.”

He attached it to his collar. 

“No!”

He closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath, centering himself, and kicked the table hard enough that it slammed into the far wall. 

Avery looked away, unable to watch the fall, the swing, the kick of Beck’s legs. Nothing stopped the sounds, the crack of the cable going taut or the desperate choking. He turned and puked into a waste bin. 

Beck was still alive. He’d seen him. Still alive, even though he’d tried to kill himself.

He looked up and watched Beck dangle from the makeshift noose. Felt numb with relief when the scientist entered, cursed, and grabbed for the switch. Beck was unconscious, weight not lifted off his throat until he was a collapsed sprawl on the floor. 

Avery turned from the screen, breathing shallow, and went to collect the next notebook. He couldn’t leave Beck alone any longer.

His hands shook as he rewound the tape and wrote. 

Watching with the volume on, he could hear the man’ musings between sessions of torture. Time went on, and Beck’s suicide attempt seemed less and less rash.

Each time the man “reluctantly” threatened Avery to get Beck to cooperate, Avery heard what Beck heard: this place didn’t torture humans. Avery was only in danger because of him. Each time they finished an experiment, the man’s rambling list of possible lines of future research was a reminder that there was no end in sight. Each experiment weakened his body, each meal less than was needed to even slow the rate he was wasting away, much less sustain him. Beck was clearly going to die being used to further this man’s goals, and his only choice in that moment was whether he would allow Avery to be brought down with him.  

Avery took up as much space as he thought he could get away with without his notes being rejected. Stuffing down the urge to write simply, “suicide attempt” at that timestamp and skip over it, he instead rewatched the footage, took up pages with it, and felt the horrified, aching guilt of knowing how far his husband was willing to go to protect him. 

Beck was saved and dumped back into a glass case. 

The grief to find himself still living was almost as awful to watch as the resolve to die. Avery sped up the tape, skipping to when the man came back and crouched in front of the case now on the floor. 

“Don’t ever try that again.”

Beck snarled at him. 

“What is this? Do your kind not have self-preservation?”

(Avery hated the way he said your kind.)

“I’m not going to survive this,” Beck snapped at him. “I’m not stupid. Eventually, one of your tests will kill me, and at least if I just get it over with, neither of us are suffering.”

“Neither of--This is about your mate.” He stood up and looked thoughtfully down at Beck, who was glaring up at him, teeth bared. “I should have realized you’d be protective. Rutting creatures often are.”

(Avery swore uselessly at the screen.)

“How about I settle this, then. If you die by your own hand--or claw or tooth--I’ll sell him for parts. Grateful patients won’t look too hard at where a miraculous donor heart comes from.”

The rage that swept over Beck’s face spilled out of him in agonized curses, words that sounded more like the growls and snarls of a trapped animal than any noises Avery had heard Beck make in his life. 

The man just looked down at him disdainfully and went to get his clipboard. 

“Now, shift into a fox. That seems to be your preferred form isn’t it?”

“This is my preferred form, but fine,” Beck snapped before slipping into the familiar fox fur.

“Shift back slowly.”

Beck looked at him and tried to do as he’d asked. It was unsteady, mostly as fast as he normally went, but he retained the tail until he was almost fully human. He shook himself like he was trying to get rid of the feeling. 

“Very good. Same again. Can you do ears first on your way down?”

Beck looked at him disbelievingly and just shook his head. 

“Try.”

He closed his eyes and shifted, face growing pointed and tufted ears sprouting through his hair before his body had even started to shrink. As a fox, he twitched from ears to tail and sneezed.

“Perfect. And back. Slower.”

This time, it was like watching Beck’s muscle move under the skin, bones reforming and fur withdrawing. His tail was still out, face still vulpine and long, when the man said, “Stop.”

Beck froze and then snapped the rest of the way human. His whole body shuddered. “Nn, shit, that’s horrible.”

“Again.”

Beck cringed. “Why do you need me to do this? What are you trying to prove?”

He crouched down again on Beck’s eye level.

“Do you know who pays for science?”

Beck frowned and shook his head.

“Rich sponsors. Everyone wants to think that it’s universities or governments, the only goal the greater good. They think it’s all scientists working for the betterment of humanity. And believe me, we are. Here on the ground level. But the people paying are the rich, fucked up bastards willing to funnel all their money into pet projects.” 

He stood up, tapping on the glass as he did so. “Nothing gets funded faster than something that can be used for sex.”

Beck froze.

(Stretched across time, Avery also froze. What had he just said?)

“Excuse me, what?”

“Fox boys, cat girls, pretty people with wings… If you can’t see how that would immediately get all the money it needed to make it a reality, you’re delusional. All I need is one tail and I’ll have enough cash to keep this facility running for years.”

“You can’t--”

“Enough stalling. Shift.”

Avery was suddenly more aware of Beck’s nakedness. Of the fact that this was all on film. 

“I don’t want to,” Beck said, voice weak. 

“Succeed and I’ll take you to see your mate.”

Beck’s eyes slid closed, and he shifted back towards a fox, even slower this time. The tail filled in between almost entirely human legs, his face creased in concentration until he was curling in on himself and fully a fox.

“Tail and ears.”

Beck shifted back towards human, shuddery and halting, and paused, holding on like he was gripping a heavy weight. He gasped in heavy lungfuls of air and braced himself forward on his hands and knees, fully human except for the tail and a gentle tip to his ears. 

“Fuck,” he swore, “Fuck, I can’t hold it.”

“Hold it.”

“I--” He sobbed. “Shit, it’s not supposed to work this way.”

“Hold it.”

Beck did. Eventually, he rested his forehead forward against the glass, shoulders going slack. 

“There. You did it. What did I tell you?”

Beck shook his head against the glass. “Take me to my husband.”

“Keep your tail out. We’ll need that.”

Beck shrunk in on himself and nodded. 

“Now, hold still.”

Avery threw his finished book down and ripped his hands through his hair. Another day was coming to a close and he was barely halfway through. He needed his husband back.

[everything-person]

Not All Talk part 2

Summary: Best friends plan their lives together from time to time. It’s all pretend, just for fun. Until its not.

You can read the first part here.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Emma dropped the last box on the floor. She stretched her aching muscles before collapsing on the couch letting her legs dangle over the arms.

"We still have unpacking to do, love." Killian leaned over the back of the couch, looking down on his best friend.

"We can do that tomorrow," she replied with out even opening her eyes.

"Then we have to at least organize the furniture."

"Let's do it tomorrow."

"Is tomorrow going to be your answer for everything?"

"Ask me tomorrow."

Killian let out a huff before rounding the couch and plopping down next to her head. He looked around the space. It was small place but it was theirs. "We finally did it. We moved out and got an apartment. We are now roommates."

"Yup. And I say as our first day in our apartment we have done enough work and should take the rest of the day enjoying our place."

Killian smiled. "There's a sandwich shop down the street. How about we grab lunch?"

"That sound great," Emma replied sitting up.

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

"Swan!"

Emma looked up from the book, she's been trying to study. She heard footsteps coming her way before Killian opened her door leaning on her doorway. "I thought you were going to do the dishes today?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry. I'll do them tomorrow."

"You said that yesterday, love."

"I'm sorry. My classes have been picking up and work is crazy-"

"Forget it lass. It's okay." Killian left closing the door without looking at her.

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

"Killian!"

Killian heard his name over the sound of gunfire coming from the tv. He averted his gaze from his show to see Emma emerge from her bedroom and make the short walk to the living room. Pausing his show he asked, "Swan?"

"Can you keep it down?"

Killian raised a questioning eyebrow at this. He didn't think it was that loud.

"Come on, Jones. I'm trying to take a nap before my shift. You don't need the volume on 40."

"Lass I only have it to 25. If I turn it down I won't be able to hear them talking."

"Can't you watch it later then?"

"I'm in the middle of an episode. Let me finish this then I'll turn it off."

"Fine," Emma huffed returning to her room. Killian didn't turn it off after one episode.

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

"SWAN!"

Emma nearly dropped her laptop on the floor at the sound of her name. She looked up to find a wet Killian standing at the entrance of the hallway wearing nothing but a towel clutched around his hips. "What the hell Killian?"

"Did you by any chance take a shower today?"

Emma's face scrunched up in confusion. "Yeah. I took a shower."

"You couldn't be bothered to inform me you used all the hot water. Again."

"How was I suppose to know? The water was still warm when I got out."

Killian looked like he was going to say more but stoped himself. He let out an aggravated sigh while pinching the bridge of his nose. Dropping his hand he looked back at her, "How about just warn me everytime you take a shower?"

With that he went back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

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

"JONES!!"

His head snapped up from the book he was reading at the sound of his name. Only a fews seconds later Emma burst in the door.

"Where did you put the mail that was on the counter?"

"I put it in the bin. It was all junk mail."

"My check was in that pile," Emma screeched.

Killians eyes widen slightly, realizing his mistake. "Oh."

"Stop cleaning shit up! This is like the fifth thing of mine you've 'cleaned up' and has been thrown away or just disappeared."

"Swan it's just in the recycling."

"That's not the point." Emma left the room slamming the door.

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

"SWAN!"

Emma jolted awake. Her heart racing at the sudden wake up call. Once she heard her bedroom door slamming open she sat up, turning toward her roommate.

"Did you eat the rest of the fish Nemo brought over?"

"What?"

"Did you eat the fish Nemo brought over?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I was planning on eating that. I've been looking forward to it all day."

"I'm... sorry?"

"Ha I've heard that one before."

"What do you want from me? I ate it, it's gone."

"Next time ask. Or at the very least warn me that my food is gone."

Emma rolled her eye and turned over laying back down with her back to him. She heard him huff before closing the door leaving her room.

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

"We barely see each other. Killian is always either working at the docks or at the bar. I'm at class or working. But when we are home together one of us is mad at the other. All we do is fight." Emma explained to her adoptive mom. Ruth placed a mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon in front of her while she herself enjoyed a cup of tea. "Oh and he has this mysterious girlfriend, he refuses to talk about."

"It's only been a couple months, Honey. Give it time. You two are still learning how to live with each other," Ruth calmly said, deciding to ignore that last comment.

"We have been talking about living together forever and known each other for longer. You'd think we know how irratating the other was by now."

"Emma." Ruth didn't say anything until Emma looked up at her, "Talking is the easy part, doing is a whole different thing. Killian is still the same boy you knew before but now you're just seeing a different side. Now it might not be one you always agree with but you have to decide can you live with it."

Emma knew she was right, but she didn't know what to say. Thankfully Ruth changed subjects, "so tell me about this Graham fellow."

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

Killian offered to help Nemo on his boat, they were well away from the shore when Nemo asked about Emma. Killian was in the midst of airing his grievances to his uncle when he was cut off. "Killian you need to calm down and take a step back. This is Emma you're talking about."

"Aye and she right infuriating lass. She's so damn stubborn and nonchalant-"

"And she was like that before you decided to move in together," Nemo said cutting him off again.

Killian stopped at that. He knew that but roommates was so different then just being friends. It was a change Killian wasn't prepared for.

Nemo came up to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's been difficult. But you have to ask yourself, what is important? Living shipshape or living with Emma?"

When Killian didn't answer Nemo changed subjects, "Come on let's get back to shore."

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

Killian was walking back to the apartment in deep thought. He thought about what Nemo said and he thought of all the arguments he and Emma had. They definitely needed to talk.

He unlocked the door hoping to find Emma home so they could try to work somethings out. But when he opened the he found more than what he was hoping for. Emma was sitting on the couch with a towel bundled up in her lap and if he looked close enough he swore he saw the towel breathing.

Emma looked up at him giving him a soft smile. "Hey," she all but whispered.

"Hey." He pointed to the towel. "What's that love?" Almost as soon as he asked a soft 'mew' was heard come from the towel. Killian walked over, leaning in to see a tiny kittens face poke out of the towel.

"I found him when I took out the garbage. I heard him crying, I thought he was hurt but when I found him and crouched down he came right up to me and started licking my fingers and head butting my hand. I looked for mom or any signs of other kittens but I couldn't find any. I brought him in and cleaned him up in the sink. I was drying him off when he fell asleep," Emma explained.

Killian couldn't take his eyes off the little creature. He couldn't have been more then two, maybe three weeks old. "Have you fed him yet?" When Emma shook her head he got up and went to the cupboard. He found a can of tuna, opening it up he dumped it on a plate mushing it up a bit more before placing it on the island separating the kitchen and the living room.

"Put him up here, love." Emma picked up the towel with the kitten inside carrying him the short distance to the island. Once placed up there she freed him from fabric. Seeing the food the small animal walked on wobbly legs slowly making its way. When he was close enough he layed down again half on the plate half off. They watched as his little tongue licked at the food occasionally taking a bit of food in his mouth.

Killian spoke first, "we should take him to the animal shelter in the morning they have a vet that can look him over and proper food for him."

Emma just nodded in response. She didn't dare take her eyes off the poor little creature. But Killians next question made her.

"We should decide if we are going to keep him or not before we do."

Emma darted from her friend to the fuzzy creature on the island between them back to her friend. "Well, he isn't the fox we agreed on but he's awfully cute. I'm okay if he stays."

"I thought 'cats were mean'." Killian threw her words back at her with a smirk never leaving his face.

"He's not a cat. He's a kitten," she said matter of factly reaching forward scratching the kittens head lightly.

"He's going to need a name. If it even is in fact a he."

"How about Todd or Foxy if he turns out to be a she," Emma offered. Killians smile was his only answer.

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

The next day while Todd was getting checked out the roommates had a talk. They told each other what bothers each other, little pet peeves the other does. They made a set of rules and both agreed to try harder at living together. As days turned to weeks and weeks turned to a month things got better. Besides Todd growing, nothing eventful happened.

Until one night Killian came home drunk. Emma was mindlessly watching tv when he stumbled through the front door. That was the night he told her about Milah. His mysterious girlfriend was apparently a married woman who visited him at the bar. That night she came to the bar ending whatever relationship they had. “The whole thing was ridiculous really,” he said when finished.

Emma stared at her friend for a moment as the sat on their couch. She was facing him her legs tucked under her with her arm leaning in the back of the couch supporting her head. “Thats not ridiculous. You want to hear ridiculous?” Emma went on to tell him all that conspired between her and Graham. How she encouraged him to leave his abusive girlfriend. When he did and came to her, she got scared and ran away.

“Seems as if we have drifted quiet bit lass.” 

“Yeah. We have.”

“Well thats going to change. Every... What day is it?”

“Sunday.”

“Right. Every Sunday, I say we order in and have a movie night. Just roomates. What do you say love?”

“I say the sandwich shop is open 24/7.”

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

It was one such movie night when it happened. They were all sitting on the couch. Todd in Emmas lap, Emma leaning into Killian with her head on his shoulder. The movie playing was some ridiculous rom com, both of them too comfortable to be bothered to grab the remote and change it.

“What kind of date would you take me on?” Emma asked suddenly.

“What?”

“What kind of date would you take me on? We always talked about our kids, and we planned our wedding. We even made up our Disney themed apartment. But you never told me what kind of dates we would go on.”

Killian thought for a moment before he answered, “Our first date I would take you to a nice restraunt. Then I think a nice walk by the water, maybe even taking you out on Nemo’s boat. How does that sound?”

Emma lifted her head to look at him, “That sounds nice.”

Killian looked at his roommate, his best friend. Looking into her shining green eyes he realized he never wanted anything more than to take her out for dinner as more than friends. He was silently hoping maybe she would want the same when Emma spoke up. 

“I would picked have you.”

“I would have chased after you”

Emma leaned forward pressing her lips against his. He kissed her back. When they broke apart she said “what would our second date look like?” 

Killian smiled and replied, “That is a surprise.” Before kissing her again.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

And thats all she wrote. Hope this is a decent “sequel” there will be a third part to this story. Also this second part is dedicated to @superchocovian hope you enjoy. 

[aftgficlibrary]

Post-Canon

Here is a list of fics set after the books so we can live on even after the series ends (Note: due to the sheer amount of Post-Canon fics, this only includes completed fics and is an extremely long list)

light fires at night (to push back the void) by inthesea (M | 61,862 | 3/3)

The first time Andrew realizes he wants to hear the words, Neil isn’t even doing anything. He’s just sitting there, staring at the horizon with that stupidly dramatic faraway expression of his, and letting the cigarette burn down between his fingers all the way to the filter — an outrageous waste of good nicotine, if you asked Andrew.

(Or: 20+ times Andrew and Neil say I love you, and one time they say it out loud.)

Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms) by SpangleBangle (E | 84,557 | 13/13)

Life goes on after the Foxes win the championship, and for Andrew and Neil it’s uncharted territory with only each other for guides. Maybe it’s time to put away some of those hard edges, and learn how to touch more softly, and speak more honestly. And if they falter, they have their family to help them get back on their feet.

right side of rock bottom by allyasavedtheday (M | 20,019 | 1/1)

Neil thinks it might be the first time he’s taken a breath in days.

He hadn’t realised it because he’d been so caught up in packing and saying goodbye to everyone but now that it’s over he remembers his self-imposed countdown was meant to be up by now. It’s the end of the school year and five months ago, he thought he’d be dead by now.

Instead he has a team and a future and a home and Andrew.

(The last two might be interchangeable.)

*

A little look into Neil and Andrew’s relationship after The King’s Men where they learn to touch, to talk and to trust.

The Name Game by minyrrds (G | 3,042 | 1/1)

What happens when Andrew and Neil change the names on their jerseys

something like home by nightswatch (T | 5,197 | 1/1)

Andrew keeps showing up at Neil’s apartment. But that’s what he gave him the key for, isn’t it?

lessons in trust by nightswatch (T | 3,609 | 1/1)

They don’t talk about what exactly they are, but Neil is more and more convinced that they’re on a good way to becoming something.

raze it to the ground by ilgaksu for badacts (T | 4,511 | 1/1)

It stops being about Neil entirely, and it starts being about this: Andrew is really, really fucking tired.

sugar, spice, and something nice by ephemeralsky (T | 6,258 | 1/1)

Andrew appears by his side seconds later, takes one look at the charred disaster, and says, “At least you did not burn the Tower down.”

Neil sighs. Happy birthday, he thinks mockingly as he chucks the brownie into the garbage bin.

(or: Neil finds a new hobby and indulges his family with sweets, Andrew indulges Neil, and they both can’t stop staring at each other)

a love song for the cliffhanger boys by ilgaksu for clockworkmoon (T | 1,680 | 1/1)

Some days, you work with what you got. 

thorn in my skin by ephemeralsky (T | 5,861 | 1/1)

These days, both of them are able to sleep on the same bed without any weapons underneath their pillows and on their person, and Andrew is not sure what he wants to do with this knowledge. They have poured years into forging their armors, and now they are stripping them, piece by tattered piece.

(or: the five weapons Neil has at his disposal + the one weapon he wields without knowing it)

/Graphic Depictions Of Violence

next stop: nowhere by nightswatch (M | 8,117 | 1/1)

Neil and Andrew have a week to themselves and decide to hit the road.

i’ll carry you home by broship_addict (E | 4,257 | 1/1)

“I thought we agreed that you were getting rid of it. Not coming back with two.”

“We agreed that I would take the cat to the shelter. I did.”

Or, Andrew and Neil and their cats, in seven parts.

above us only stars by nightswatch (T |  2,206 | 1/1)

Neil wants to say that he is fine. He wants to say that Nathaniel Wesninski doesn’t own a single part of him.

The Days That Followed by lipsstainedbloodred (E | 7,410 | 1/1)

Andrew’s hand moved up further to Neil’s ruined cheek and he held a hand over it briefly. “These are not ugly,” Andrew said, forcing Neil to look up and face himself directly in the mirror, “You will not be ashamed of these. You will not shy away from your reflection because of them. These are not ugly.”

or, the fic where Neil is self conscious of his scars and Andrew forces him not to be.

Hold It Together (Until You Can’t) by Joana789 (M | 5,560 | 1/1)

Andrew holds his gaze just for a second longer before turning away, and Neil breathes in, because even if Andrew Minyard, with his extraordinary memory, remembers the date — which is likely, Neil knows — he gives no sign of it.

Neil thinks that perhaps it is carved into his memory only.

or

Exactly a year after Baltimore, Neil doesn’t expect to feel like this.

Kisses on Scars by rememberednoah (G | 1,941 | 1/1)

In which Andrew decides to kiss all of Neil’s scars. In which Neil isn’t quite sure how to react and feel about this.

Josten Has A Neck Fetish by keihtkogane (T | 2,301 | 1/1)

An full length ficlet extension of my tumblr headcanon which ends with Andrew revealing Neil has a neck fetish on live television.

–

Written for the anon who asked: omfg can i pleASE get an extension of the last part of your andreil and subtle touches headcanon? the part where andrew’s like “josten has a fucking neck fetish”

Every Choice Leads To You by SpangleBangle (G | 2,809 | 1/1)

Andrew knew they had to get up at some point, if only for the bathroom, but was loathe to hurry the moment along. He would take every greedy minute of Neil snug in his bed, for as long as he could. It was the choice he’d made years before, and the one he made every day when he saw Neil’s ‘good morning’ smile. He had a feeling it was a choice he’d be making for many years to come. And while that thought should be terrifying, with Neil sweet and content in his arms, fear was far away.

All Hail the Underdogs by wildfrancium (T | 25,411 | 10/10)

Ten years after Neil Josten becomes Neil Josten, life is full of Exy and Andrew. And then they decide to try fostering a kid.

Late Night, Welcome Home by ThePackWantstheD (T | 1,160 | 1/1)

“I thought Andrew shredded those pants,” Kevin answered.

Neil’s lips quirked further up. “Wymack got me another pair.”

“What did I do to deserve this kind of punishment?” Kevin asked. “You’re the problem child.”

Fighting Heavy Shoulders by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,718 | 1/1)

He would stick a knife in the throat of anyone who tried to make him admit it, but Andrew was actually a little concerned about Neil running this race. From what he can tell, this can go one of two ways. Option one: Neil would be reasonable and just survive the race. Run at a sensible pace, make it across the finish line alive, and keep his mouth shut the next time some asshole reporter starts harassing him. Option two: Neil, because he is Neil, would try way too hard to keep up with the people who actually put in a lot of time training for these things. He would pull a muscle or pass out on the course, and Andrew would have to drag his ass to the nearest hospital, which would really throw a wrench in Andrew’s weekend plans of doing absolutely nothing. Not even to mention the absolute hissy fit Kevin would throw if Neil were injured. If Andrew were a betting man, his money would go to option two.

—

Wymack follows through on his threats, and Andrew is a protective asshole in love.

built this house on memories by modernpatroclus (T | 4,138 | 3/3)

Prompt: OMG when i was reading ur last andreil fic i started thinking “okay but what if neil woke up and didNT REMEMBER ANDREW” CAN U MAKE THIS HAPPEN I WILL PAY U

Or: Neil gets amnesia and can’t remember anything past the night he was drugged in Columbia.

Something Borrowed by Pi (Rhea) (T | 7,266 | 1/1)

After graduation, Neil and Andrew go on a road trip to return particular items to Neil’s mother’s contacts.

Or: two times Neil visited the Henrietta, Virginia.

Perfect by SpangleBangle (G | 1,547 | 1/1)

Ten years on, and things are just perfect.

But Broken Pieces Make Beautiful Mosaics by lipsstainedbloodred (T | 1,926 | 1/1)

Neil Josten is a broken, damaged thing. Pieces of a tattered personality and a traumatized mind, scared and skittish with one foot always out the door. And on Nathaniel Wesninski’s birthday, he runs.

Pillow Talk by zayndehaan for ohwhatanight (M | 3,826 | 1/1)

Neil finds a new fear, and doesn’t know how to bring it up without sounding foolish.

(a.k.a. lots of snuggling and banter and feelings)

Take Another Drag by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,233 | 1/1)

Andrew knows exactly who Travis is. Travis William Patterson, 27 years old, 6’3” backliner from middle of nowhere, Texas, current starter for the Boston Hurricanes, #9. As a matter of fact, Andrew is looking at him right now. ESPN is showing Exy highlights from last weekend, and Neil’s team just happens to be up at this very moment.

The Neil on screen has just performed some ridiculous move that absolutely should not have ended with a goal but somehow did, and he is immediately met with high-fives from his teammates and an affectionate-looking hug from Travis. Andrew can most certainly be objective, and this exchange looks pretty platonic. But Andrew is also a man attracted to men, and he has to admit that Travis is good looking. Really good looking.

-

Neil seems to be spending a lot of time with his new friend, and Andrew is Not Jealous.

dreamed in red by Frostandcoal (M | 7,261 | 1/1)

Four times the nightmares don’t win, and one time they almost do. Post-canon.

Minyard-Josten: A Rivalry For The Ages by dustbottle (M | 4,203 | 1/1)

After four years of playing together at Palmetto State University, Neil and Andrew end up on different professional teams. Neil is the new striker for the Atlanta Hawks; Andrew is goalie for the Boston Rebels. This is the story of their so-called rivalry.

Three guesses as to who starts the rumours.

(Spoilers: It’s Neil.)

Inside the Outsider by ouroboros for finkpishnets (M | 2,215 | 1/1)

It is little things like that that make this okay. Small rules, steps to follow: Pants staying buttoned, Neil’s hands where he can see them, no words but “Yes or no.” And, now, door locked. Check.

(Andrew looks back on the first time he does more than kiss Neil)

uncurling lifelines by Frostandcoal (M | 3,202 | 1/1)

That Andrew likes Neil being vocal in bed – that’s a key, and Neil intends to use it. This is something that Neil can give Andrew, a thing Andrew likes, that doesn’t involve touching or crossing boundaries Andrew is not yet ready for Neil to cross.

Besides, if Neil is good at anything besides Exy, it’s running his mouth.

Or: Neil learns that Andrew “I’m An Instigator At Heart And So Are You” Minyard might just like hearing Neil express not only his consent, but his enthusiasm, when they’re in bed.

back and forth by broship_addict (T | 2,573 | 1/1)

Years later Andrew and Neil find themselves revisiting Palmetto. It’s a lot more fun than Andrew’s ready to admit.

Lost Boy by the_ocean_burned (M | 6,401 | 1/1)

A look through Andrew’s eyes during some of the major events in the series.

Since I did use scenes and quotes from the series, I’m going to put a disclaimer on this one: All copyright rights to the characters, dialogue, and canon events belong solely to Nora Sakavic. I don’t own any of it; please don’t sue me. I’m broke.

The Self I Am by dustbottle (E | 5,536 | 1/1)

Though Neil and Andrew have been on the same professional team for years, the Minyard-Josten rivalry is still going strong. No one has caught wind of the truth of their relationship – but maybe it’s time for that to change.

(Or: Neil and Andrew decide to come out. This is how it happens.)

late night by Frostandcoal (G | 2,355 | 1/1)

People think that Exy “saved” him, but they are wrong. Exy is not a savior – there are no saviors for people like Andrew.

In which Andrew Minyard decides to pay it forward thanks to an all-night bodega, terrible ice cream choices and a cashier who just happens to play collegiate Exy.

out of breath by Frostandcoal for tycutiovevo (G | 3,418 | 1/1)

For tycutiovevo, who wanted Andreil in cold!weather, no angst. I hope you like this, bb! <3! <3!

Neil wants to live his life like he plays Exy – he wants the freedom to take chances, he wants the thrill of last-second goals, he wants the exhilaration of pushing his body to its limits, wants the ache and burn of every single bruise and scrape. His body is marked by other people’s cruelty and other people’s choices made on his behalf – he wants to cover it with the marks of the life he chose for himself.

Neil doesn’t understand what a “blizzard” is, and thinks it’s a good idea to go running in one. Andrew is not impressed.

Delayed Reaction by run_for_me (T | 3,035 | 1/1)

It’s been so long since he’s felt anything but affection for Nicky that he’d almost forgotten there was time when he’d been viscerally and intensely afraid of him.

*

In which the events of Neil’s first visit to Eden’s Twilight are finally addressed a year later.

I Want to Hold Your Hand by conniptionns (T | 5,009 | 4/4)

If this was Allison and Renee it would be cute and fluffy and very Across the Universe for this song, but it’s Andrew and Neil so

until the end of the world by broship_addict (T | 2,731 | 1/1)

Twenty years, two cats, and a whole lot of sports-related injuries later, they’re still home.

light it up by broship_addict (T | 1,879 | 1/1)

Neil Josten is probably the only person in the world capable of getting Andrew into an ugly Christmas sweater.

missing you (is all i am) by dustbottle (T | 2,677 | 1/1)

After graduating college, Andrew starts his professional Exy career as goalie for the Boston Rebels. Meanwhile, Neil is in his fifth and final year at Palmetto State University. Being apart turns out to be harder than either of them expected, and adjusting is a struggle.

When Neil visits Andrew in Boston, things come to a head.

maybe just the touch of a hand by niallszayn (G | 1,822 | 1/1)

All the Foxes come to Nicky and Erik’s wedding. Bets are made, and no one ever understands Andrew and Neil’s relationship.

Careless by Poteto (G | 1,474 | 1/1)

Matt likes to think Neil is done saying things that will get himself killed. Andrew disagrees.

way i tend to be by Frostandcoal (G | 1,665 | 1/1)

For erinaceinae-lutrinae on tumblr, who gave me the following prompt:

“Someone on Neil’s pro-team decides his nickname should be junior, and Neil does not take it well.”

Blossom Under Kindness by dustbottle (E | 3,433 | 1/1)

After Neil’s first year as a professional Exy player, Andrew and Neil spend their summer together in Columbia. There are good days and bad days. Today is a good day.

take my breath away (you know i’m bound to choke) by essenceofheroism (Not Rated | 1,620 | 1/1)

or the one in which andrew dreams neil runs away.

We Can Be Soft by SpookyMiscreant (M | 20,229 | 13/13)

Andreil and their daily lives. Fun ensues as always. Some of my HCs and some HCs from Tumblr. This has no plot or timeline please forgive me.

of being happy by artemis_west (E | 4,774 | 1/1)

On his flight home, Neil could barely sit still. He kept going back to his phone and staring at the message on his screen, the last one he’d received from Andrew:

I’ll be there.

Sounds Like a Good Excuse for Coming Home by OrdinaryVegan

Andrew is stressed, and Neil is problematic. Long-distance can be rather inconvenient, especially when your not-boyfriend is a murder magnet.

Summer Showers by Previously8 (T | 1,852 | 1/1)

Includes, but is not limited to: lots of staring, one (1) mention of chia seeds, Neil Josten’s new phone, the colours blue, green, and orange, talk of walls, a visit to Home Depot, and "452%”.

Rated T for swearing.

billboard. by lolainslackss (T | 2,940 | 1/1)

“Even when I turn away I can’t unsee it,” Aaron continued, his back to the rest of them, “It’s disgusting.”

…

Neil follows Kevin’s advice and agrees to be part of an ad campaign for Exy shoes. This ends up with Neil’s face on an eight-hundred-foot-wide moving billboard, and he’s not at all sure what to make of it. Neither is everyone else. Especially when Andrew notices everything.

Right Here in the Light by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,398 | 1/1)

It takes all of his willpower not to physically react from shock when he finds Piper curled up tightly on Andrew’s chest, King tucked behind the bend in her knees. His surprise is two-fold. First, he can’t believe he slept through another person being added into their bed. And second, he can’t believe that Andrew is actually asleep in his current position. His arm is wrapped tightly around Piper’s shoulders, the entirety of her small upper body resting on his chest. Neil can do nothing but stare in awe at the pair of them. He thinks of how far they’ve all come, each of them with their own unique struggles, and his sentimentality nearly gets the better of him.

“Staring,” comes Andrew’s low voice, disguised by disuse. All these years, and Neil still doesn’t know how he does that. His eyes aren’t even open. Ridiculous.

A few members of the domestic Andreil household find themselves awake in the middle of the night. In other words, Andrew Minyard is the best father in the universe, and no one will convince me otherwise.

this calls for a toast by Frostandcoal (G | 1,872 | 1/1)

Three years ago, Andrew Minyard threatened to kill her if she ever spoke to him. She hasn’t, but only because she’s had nothing to say.

Until today.

It’s Katelyn’s wedding day, and she’s got a little something to clear up with her brand-new brother-in-law.

As the Fire Spread by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,022 | 1/1)

Neil’s weight beside him is now familiar and even a comfort, sometimes. But on the occasions when Andrew’s senses are on overdrive and the smallest movement feels like an avalanche, an earthquake, a fucking planetary realignment, Neil knows better than to take Andrew’s abandonment personally.

Neil’s hoodie is thrown over the back of his desk chair, so Andrew makes his way over to dig out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket. He thinks he could light it with just the fire on the edge of his tongue, but he grabs a lighter from the drawer just in case.

—

Neil wants to help. Andrew just wants to breathe without feeling like his lungs will go up in flames.

Weddings and Other Kinds of Vows bya_case_for_wonder (T | 12,328 | 1/1)

“Lord, Andrew, you’d think you hadn’t been dating the guy for half a decade!” Nicky said. “When is he going to ask you to marry him, of course!” Andrew had known it was coming, but it still felt like the world slowed down a little. The question hung in the air between them like an ugly spell, until Andrew shook himself enough to answer. “He’s not going to ask me.“

OR

Nicky is finally getting married, the third Fox wedding in as many years. Andrew is just trying to get through it, Neil is just trying to have a good time, but with all this love in the air, their friends keep insisting on asking questions they are Not Ready For. They try to work through it together.

Time is Standing Still by OrdinaryVegan (G | 1,441 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil have a daughter, and she is an actual ray of sunshine.

Leave Me on the Tracks by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,092 | 1/1)

If this had happened a few years ago, Andrew would have stood by and watched him leave. No argument, no attempted persuasion. Because that’s what people do. They leave, or they treat you badly enough that you leave first. People are never worth the trouble.

But not this time. The past decade with Neil has made Andrew come to terms with the fact that this means something. Andrew is rather shocked to find that he believes he himself should be enough to make Neil stay. That he is worthy of it. That he wants Neil to stay, and he will be damned if he lets him go without a fight. Andrew is asking. And if that won’t make Neil stay, nothing will.

In which Neil tries to protect Andrew, and Andrew tells him to get over his hero complex.

Patch Your Wounds by OrdinaryVegan (T | 2,290 | 1/1)

“Really, Neil,” Andrew drawls. He could have chosen to phrase it as a question, but Neil knows he isn’t surprised. It’s more of an acknowledgement of Neil’s apparent inability to remain injury-free. “You’ve been here for less than forty-five seconds, and you’re already bleeding on my carpet.”

—

In which Neil is a klutz, the cats are a nuisance, and Andrew is his own special brand of helpful.

I Want You To Know by kayxpc (G | 733 | 1/1)

one love, one house by freefall for cats-are-assholes (T | 2,592 | 1/1)

It’s the little things that make an apartment into a home, that make a sequence of moments into a life.

Or, five times Andrew hates that damn couch, and one time he thinks it isn’t so bad.

Missed This (Not as much as You) by kayxpc (E | 2,087 | 1/1)

Neil and Andrew finally get a weekend off of their professional teams and pickup exactly where they left off.

Hidden by kayxpc (G | 2,000 | 1/1)

His Father’s Eyes by maeusetod (Not Rated | 3,012 | 1/1)

Sometimes Neil had thought about, when and under which circumstances he would hear the name Nathaniel again, but he had not expected it to happen like this.

Shut Up, Baby by aftgandreil (arituzz) (E | 693 | 1/1)

“Can you not call me Josten when we are about to have sex?” Neil protests, tugging the hem of his shirt up and over his head.

“What do you want me to call you, then? Asshole?” Andrew says with a smirk on his face, already taking his boxers off.

“Fuck, no. Just–” The advances they’ve made so far have been amazing, Neil thinks, engraving the sight of his naked lover in his head. He can’t help biting his lower lip at the vision in front of him. They’ve come this far, which is more than Neil could have ever hoped for. He guesses it won’t hurt to try for a tinsy little bit more. Locking his eyes with Andrew’s, he says, “Call me baby.”

restless by wesninski for lorcathegreat (G | 2,121 | 1/1)

It’s an expression of restlessness, the kind of bout of spontaneous recklessness at which Neil has always excelled. A new city with new teammates and a new apartment and new stress, and Neil turns to Andrew one summer night, the smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the perfume of Andrew’s flowers on the balcony because they haven’t picked the lock to the roof yet, and says, “let’s get out of here.”

Or: Andrew and Neil go on a road trip and bring the cats along. They should have just found a cat sitter.

if things went differently by yuhee (T | 1,810 | 1/1)

The day Neil Josten disappeared on the Foxes, he had died in a fire incident along with his father and his men. Or so they said. Because Andrew now sees the man in flesh and bones at a city in England after two years.

this place is a shelter by Joana789 (T | 1,786 | 1/1)

”Well,” Andrew says, and the answer feels raw on his tongue. ”Someone has to make sure you don’t run again.”

ask me no questions (and i might not cuss you out) by WingsOfWax (T | 2,77 | 1/1)

Neil’s and Andrew’s relationship becomes public - without their permission. It’s annoying because now they have to actually deal with it. Neil gets more than a little rude when someone asks the wrong kind of question.

"Call me Marcus; he’s strong and noble.” by AroPeterWam (E | 6,899 | 1/1)

“Which one is Sir Fat Cat McCatterson? And why does he have a long name? I like the name King Fluffkins, but isn’t that too many noble titles for the cats?” Marcus, slowly coming out of his shell reached under the coffee table for one of the cats. – In which Neil and Andrew come across a boy who might not be like any of their stray cats.

wake your ghost by Frostandcoal (G | 2,741 | 1/1)

“Kevin’s been obsessed with Riko Moriyama his entire life. It’s going to take more than a bullet to stop that.”

The amount of mental energy Kevin has wasted on Riko is like a faucet, and Andrew has yet to see any definitive proof that Kevin’s ready to turn off the pipes.

In which Kevin has Complicated Feelings ™, Neil does not approve, and Andrew does not care. And Andreil!Banter, for it is like crack unto me, and I love them :|

Close & Closer by kayxpc (E | 1,290 | 1/1)

Andrew & Neil map another safe place out in their relationship

You & Me by kayxpc (E | 782 | 1/1)

A bottom Andrew fic because the fandom is in need of more and I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Here With You by kayxpc (G | 295 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil sleep together after being apart for far too long

an acceptable surprise by kayxpc (G | 1,181 | 1/1)

permanent key//permanent home by kayxpc (T | 1,025 | 1/1)

Andrew visits Neil

She Was Found by OrdinaryVegan (T | 1,591 | 1/1)

"We’ve been over this and over this. We have looked at it from every possible angle. We agreed on this, that this is what we both want. You agreed to get over your daddy issues, and I agreed to actively ignore every parenting example I’ve ever had. Right?”

Neil nods his head once with a little too much force to be convincing. “Right.”

“Okay,” Andrew says, not really sure if it was loud enough for Neil to hear. He tightens his hand on Neil’s neck, pulling him closer until their foreheads are touching. Neil’s hand has made it up to hang off of his bicep, gripping like it’s the only thing keeping him on the ground. Andrew fights to keep his voice as even as possible. “Neil. You have to tell me that you’re in this all the way. This is permanent. Once we sign those papers, she is ours. Forever. I refuse to send her away. I will not be like them,” he says, fiercely. “Do you want this?”

AKA Piper: The Prequel

Sundays by celestia (G | 887 | 1/1)

A lazy sunday

something just like this by kayxpc (G | 566 | 1/1)

happy holidays from the foxes by artemis_westfor OneSweetMelody (G | 5,446 | 1/1)

This is my gift exchange for Jules, who wanted Fox family bonding during the holiday/post-grad! A fic set in the future after the books, when all the Foxes have their kids. They have a yearly reunion during the holidays! Soft andreil living their happy life, Andrew healing and having a better relationship with Aaron and Nicky, everyone is happy and sappy. Merry Christmas!

Always by merlypops for badtemperblue (G | 583 | 1/1)

“Am I annoying you?” “You always do,” Andrew said, cradling Neil’s cheek gently before he shoved his face away again. “Always, Josten.” Neil’s heart squeezed in his chest with something that felt dangerously like happiness. He was glad that name was still alive. He was glad he was still around to hear it. He was glad Andrew wasn’t gone.

Neil and Andrew on a plane. Fluff ensues.

smile, smile, smile by mikeymomoo (G | 744 | 1/1)

andrew is getting groceries and a fan spots him. he fucks with him.

All We Ever Knew by OrdinaryVegan (G | 1,317 | 1/1)

Robin comes to Neil for life advice, and he is surprisingly helpful. 

Phone Calls by celestia (G | 3,339 | 1/1)

It’s Andrew’s birthday. Even though he and Neil don’t celebrate birthdays, Andrew always gets three phone calls on his birthday.

tell me pretty lies by kayxpc (G | 754 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil apartment shop after Andrew graduates.

out & proud by kayxpc (G | 1,417 | 1/1)

Same sex marriage is finally legalized in Germany and the foxes come to support Nicky and Erik! Lots of love and happiness in this fic, angst who?

Eventually by writerforlife (T | 850 | 1/1)

Eventually, Andrew Minyard found his version of happiness.

Weddings in Germany by kayxpc (G | 978 | 1/1)

all the foxes visit Germany for Nicky and Eriks wedding! :) pure andreil fluff ahead

New Places by Q_Jem_Bee (M | 937 | 1/1)

That was the greatest thing about this, about them.

They had all the time in the world.

[Podfic] right side of rock bottom byfrecklebombfic (frecklebomb) for Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard) (M | 20 | 1/1)

Author’s summary: Neil thinks it might be the first time he’s taken a breath in days.

He hadn’t realised it because he’d been so caught up in packing and saying goodbye to everyone but now that it’s over he remembers his self-imposed countdown was meant to be up by now. It’s the end of the school year and five months ago, he thought he’d be dead by now.

Instead he has a team and a future and a home and Andrew.

(The last two might be interchangeable.)

Permanence by justapipe-dream (ginita105) (T | 702 | 1/1)

Neil wasn’t the reason for Andrew’s newfound stability, but he had been the eye opener. Neil had taught him that not all humans wanted to break the glass walls he built around himself, some had the decency to find the door and knock.

For the Vagabonds by OrdinaryVegan (T | 1,301 | 1/1)

Neil and Andrew versus the Maserati and the mountains.

Out by Q_Jem_Bee, shewhoisntnamed44 (G | 4,378 | 1/1)

Chris was lucky enough to have a co-worker who Neil Josten owed a favour to – and was about to launch her journalism career through the roof.

Beg and Borrow and Steal by OrdinaryVegan (T | 3,349 | 1/1)

Andrew and Neil are dragged into a school dance by their certified Sassmaster and Ray of Sunshine daughter.

pull me back by thetinyconstellation for lethargicawe (T | 2,032 | 1/1)

Neil has a bad day and his boyfriends do what they can to help. Well, if he lets them.

Children of the Universe by aceaaronminyard (necklace) (Not Rated | 1,630 | 1/1)

in which aaron and andrew figure their shit out with only a minimal amount of bruises

-

“If Aaron is being honest, Andrew looks like a spawn of Death herself; dark and weathered and just as lethal. Aaron smiles cruelly at the glare Andrew fixes him, and for the first time in months, feels galaxies explode in his lungs and make a home under his fingernails.”

mel i mató by R_Gunns (T | 1,934 | 1/1)

Being away from Andrew was harder than Neil had anticipated. Missing him was loud, thinking about him was like a cacophony of sounds, a discordant mess of sensory memories that Neil couldn’t make sense of.

(Neil’s final year at Palmetto is over, and he’ll be moving in with Andrew soon. In the meantime, he pines.)

home (is whenever i’m with you) by nightquills for apear55 (G | 2,067 | 1/1)

It’s been weeks since he saw Andrew last, and Neil can’t wait to finally see him in person, have him near, hear his voice without the tinny echo of a phone call between them.

Neverland is home to lost boys like me byjustapipe-dream (ginita105) (G | 627 | 1/1)

‘Oh, how lucky you are,’ it said, ‘Two lost boys found their Neverland in each other.’

proper punishment for an angel by artemis_west (E | 5,912 | 1/1)

Neil’s mouth gets him in trouble. What else is new?

In which… by Nikotheamazingspoonklepto (Not Rated | 22,238 | 1/1)

…the Foxes get the love they deserve. ~ This fic is a story of growth, character development, and happiness, where Neil loves his Fox family in varying degrees, ranging from platonic to romantic or sexually. Beginning at the start of Neil’s Sophomore year at PSU, he is becoming more confident, self-assured, and a happy person, supported by his original Fox family and learning how to be a leader toward the six Freshman that arrived at PSU.

Ice Cream by kayxpc (E | 944 | 1/1)

Nora’s tweets have inspired andreil smut. It’s what they deserve.

[Podfic] The Name Game by frecklebombfic (frecklebomb) for Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard) (G | 18 | 1\1)

Author’s summary: What happens when Andrew and Neil change the names on their jerseys.

Independence Day by imagined_melody (G | 1,054 | 1/1)

Neil Josten graduates from Palmetto State University on May 12—five years to the day after he arrived.

In which a life transition falls on an important date, and Neil deals with the prospect of his life changing again.

To heal a wound, you need to stop touching it bywesninskids (Not Rated | 2,203 | 1/1)

Some nights, Kevin Day jerks awake with the weight of his past. These nights, Neil’s there to pull him back to the present.

Sunday Mornings by cleopatras (T | 1,178 | 1/1)

how Neil and Andrew spend a Sunday morning in their home in San Clemente

three keys by lovelyloss (T | 516 | 1/1)

andrew thinks about the three keys neil and him share. [my descriptions are bad whoops]

Another Lonely Christmas by SpookyMiscreant (G | 1,112 | 1/1)

This is a gift for ten-paces-fire for the aftg winter exchange! Kevin is stuck playing Exy overseas instead of in Columbia with his family for christmas.

this is it by morticianists (T | 207 | 1/1)

the future isn’t as bleak as it used to be.

Neil is forbidden to have a relationship with Andrew by his new contract by Vinjana (G | 586 | 1/1)

Neil, who joined Andrew’s team, doesn’t read his contracts…

a haze of fleeting moments by luna_lovegood (G | 2,666 | 1/1)

Renee looked at her as she sat up on the couch and undid her braid, eyes bright and lips stained red. “Alright,” Renee agreed. “That sounds like fun. Do you have any nail polish?”

“Chanel or Essie?” Allison shot back and smirked.

(Or, five moments Renee spent with people she cared about.)

“Why did you name it Burrito?’ by AroPeterWam (Not Rated | 6,828 | 1/1)

“So, is this language barrier ever going to end?” It was Dan who spoke, seemingly entertained by them as she rubbed her temples. – Marcus meets the Foxes and other issues his dads help him through.

You Found Me by howmanyshipscanashippership ( T | 1,539 | 1/1 )

Andrew wakes up a few days after the Foxes win the championships from a nightmare. He wants to look to Neil for comfort and wonders when that became a thing. He falls back asleep and remembers various scenes from when Andrew first met Neil and then things some more about that. Andrew never says to Neil "I love you" but it is heavily implied.... so cannon compliant.

[piper5000]

It Begins: Fox At Heart

Chapter Thirteen The full moon was coming around and things started to change. Stiles honestly didn't notice his change in behavior apart from being more easy to wind up. The pack however seemed to have other ideas. Stiles gritted his teeth in irritation as for the third time this day Scott knocked on his door to check up on him.  "Don't you have work? I do! Seriously, this is getting a little creepy!" Stiles snapped. As Scott walked in, frowning in those puppy eyes his never got rid of. "The full moon is tomorrow Stiles, I just-" "Yes I get it. Now, OUT! For crying out loud" Stiles growled, crossing his arms. The allmightly Alpha looked more like a kicked puppy as he backed up out of the door. Stiles sighed, rubbing his temples. It was flattering Scott was this worried about him but it was getting on his nerves to no end. He was fine...  Fine! Apart from having the urge to strangle Scott but he believed that may have been due to the number of times Scott had asked him if he was okay. In two days it had come up to thirty "Are you okay Stiles?" And yes he had started to count.  The next day things didn't improve. Scott watched Stiles warily, though he noticed Stiles had started to avoid talking to him. He knew he was being over protective but he couldn't help it. This was Stiles. He couldn't pretend like nothing was wrong, he just wanted his brother to be okay, especially with that outburst that had hurt Kira. Outside the lockers Stiles was doing a good job with not talking to Scott by talking to Kira and Lydia, who's lockers where no where near Scott's and was just generally ignoring him. He felt a lot closer to Kira than he used to be. They hadn't really talked that much before despite her being Scott's girlfriend.  "So you're mother didn't tell you anything?" Stiles said, frustrated. "Only what Deaton told us but I think she's keeping secrets" Kira replied, frowning. Lydia was more intune with what Stiles was doing and was looking at him, eyebrows raised, ready to jump in and ask him why had he been avoiding Scott all morning. Scott could hear Stiles and Kira talking from where he was. Though every time he'd tried to talk to Stiles he'd been ignored or snapped at. He grabbed Liam who was walking past. "Hey, Liam, can you do something for me?" Liam looked resigned. "Hey, Stiles" Liam soon said awkwardly. He stopped talking to Kira and Lydia then turned around frowning, Liam didn't usually go up to him to talk randomly, especially now he was supernatural. He had a feeling the beta had been avoiding him because he was a little scared of him. Which he had thought was ridicules but whenever Stiles had talked to Liam, the beta had been way to nervous to be someone he talked to often. "Sc-I mean I was wondering if everything was okay?" Liam said. Scott face palmed from behind the corridor. Stiles eyes narrowed, irritation filling him. Kira and Lydia now all looking at him expectantly and worriedly. Why were they all so worried about him? And why was it pissing him of so much? Well he knew why Liam was angering him. "This is from Scott isn't it?" Stiles growled. How many times?! "Maybe its from all of us" Lydia said, crossing her arms, looking at him defiantly. "I'm fine!" Stiles almost roared, his eyes flickering to their blue and silver, anger bubbling away inside. "And that's just proved our point" She said dryly.  Stiles fumed inside. Why couldn't they let it go?  "Its not from Scott-" Liam started to say. "Oh please, when on earth have you started to give a dam about me? Your only interest is Mason and Scott, because of you're weird alpha beta connection thing" Stiles snarled. Now it was Liam's turn to go a little red and fume "That isn't true!" "Oh yeah? You've only given dam about Scott after he'd turned you. And tried to please him and do what ever he says when you accepted being his beta, despite only knowing him for a couple of days. You don't trust someone with your life like that so quickly, it isn't natural" Stiles retorted. Bitter feelings welling up inside.  "You're just jealous!" "Jealous? Of you? The little brat who's turned a new leaf but only a little while ago couldn't control his temper at all and tried to kill each of us at some point? Give me a break Liam" He snapped. Liam growled, his eyes flashing yellow. He didn't expect to suddenly be facing the lockers, his face pushed into them by Stiles as he had shoved him into them with supernatural strength also with a growl that resembled his own. "Stiles!" Lydia shouted at the same time as Scott, who ran from behind the corridor. Stiles spun around to face him "I'm FINE. Scott, leave me alone!"  Then he stormed away to his next class as the bell rang. Liam blinked "Well" He said "That went well" Lunch time didn't go that great either. Stiles was still angry at what had happened and he just wanted to do something to take that anger away. He didn't realise he was doing it until he did it. Scott noticed sadly Stiles had decided to sit further away from them but he knew he'd be snapped at even more if he went over there. "He'll snap out of it, its just the full moon" Lydia told him comfortingly. "Yeah, I heard you wearn't exactly the best on your first full moon" Kira said, raising her eyebrows and looking between Lydia and Scott, with fake irritation. Scott reddened and spluttered "It wasn't, I mean, I-" Kira giggled "Sorry I couldn't help myself, your face."  She then said calmly "It happened a long time ago, and it was the full moon so I'm not angry" Scott smiled, he loved Kira, how did he deserve her? Just as Scott sighed with relief and Lydia looked less embarrassed there was a shout. Scott eyes widened as he saw two humans suddenly went at each other, punching and trying to throttle one another. They swore at each other angrily, pushing one another into tables, knocking over peoples dinners, people and generally coursing chaos. Scott realized that these two people where two of the bullies that had been agonizing Kira and Stiles had almost hurt! Without knowing it he looked for Stiles, his eyes focused on him, who was now standing up by the bins, putting his dinner in the bins. It would have been an innocent action if Stiles hadn't been staring at the fight intently with a broad dark smirk on his face that was giving Scott chills. Stiles walked out of school that day feeling a lot better than he had done in the beginning. Who knew watching two people he disliked beating the shit out of each other could be so entertaining? Pity Scott had to stop the fight, what a killjoy. After he'd gone through that effort... Stiles stopped quickly as he realised his pack were standing in front of his jeep. Blocking his way. "I think we need to talk" Lydia said firmly. "And you are not fine Stiles, far from it" Scott said. This time Stiles snapping at him would not make him leave or them leave. Stiles knew this as well by looking at their expressions as he muttered "Crap..."  The pack moved towards him.

[hymn2000]

Called To Be A Rock - Frostiron feat. Spiderson AU fanfic - C10

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Comments/reviews/questions welcome as always

Overall Desc.: Peter is staying with Tony and Loki one summer while his aunt is away working/travelling.

Chapter Desc.: (small chapter again, sorry) Loki can’t sleep. As such, late night thoughts and feelings resurface 

Chapter Soundtrack

Ship(s) involved: Tony x Loki aka Frostiron

Verse: Personal AU

Ongoing Warnings/themes/cw mentions: domestic

Chapter 10 - Let Love Grow

-

3.30 am. 

A cool breeze blows through the streets of the city. The streets are uncharacteristically calm. The houses are dark, albeit a few faint glows of nightlights in children’s rooms. In the distance, a siren sounds, fading out as it ventures onward. Birds in the trees whistle and tweet to their neighbours. A scavenging fox pokes its head out from behind a bin, checking the street before darting across the road back to the alley it had come from. 

Above the street, perched precariously on balcony railings, Loki watched what little activity carried on at the early hour. This was the time when the world didn’t belong to the general public. Their world didn’t exist yet - the trains lay dormant, the coffee shops were in darkness, the off license cabinets were locked. Early mornings - still practically night time -  didn’t belong to them. This time belonged to a different kind of inhabitant - it belonged to the animals, scavenging when their main predators were away, it belonged to the youth, living an alternate reality inside clubs and taxis, and it belonged to the lost souls, who’s beds always seemed more inviting during the day. 

-

“It’s been said that when you can’t sleep, it means you’re awake in someone’s dreams”

Loki looked over, to where Tony leant against the door frame. His voice hadn’t come as a surprise. Loki had his music playing from his speakers, so no new sound startled him.

“Have you been dreaming about me?”

“Maybe. Who’s to say?” he went over to the edge, taking Loki’s hand. “You’re freezing. How long have you been out here?”

“I'm not sure. I’ve lost track of time a bit”

Tony nodded. “Come on, sweetheart. I don’t like you sitting where you might fall”

Loki let Tony help him back onto the balcony. His joints felt stiff from cold. He truly couldn’t remember how long he’d been there for, but it must have been a while. He sat down on one of the sun loungers, and Tony joined at his side. For a while they were silent, looking at the gradient of the sky. 

“This is familiar”

“Isn’t it just?” Tony said. “We used to do this a lot, back at the start... Do you remember that night, when you turned up on the doorstep after you’d had a fight with your brother?”

Loki nodded. “You looked so surprised when you opened the door. I thought you might turn me away, given the time. But you didn’t”

“How could I? You were so torn up about it. You needed me” 

“You were very good that night, letting me tell you all about it, letting me whine and cry to you. Even though it ended up upsetting you as well”

“He said some nasty stuff to you that night. I did get pretty upset, and rightfully so” he nodded toward the sky. “That’s why we ended up out here”

“You wrapped me up in that scrubby old blanket”

“Well, you only had a t-shirt that night: I couldn’t let you get cold. You were freezing when you turned up, shivering and everything” he paused for a moment, remembering. “You seemed so small that night. When we came out here and lay down together... You felt so small under my arm. You still feel small sometimes, when you’re upset... You looked very cute though, watching the stars”

“It was the first time you told me you loved me” 

Tony missed a beat. “It wasn’t my plan, saying it then - it just slipped out. But I’m glad it did. It turned out to be the perfect moment:- you really needed it that night”

Loki turned to him properly, holding his hand out. Tony took it, rubbing his knuckles gently with his thumb. 

“I’m not out here because I’m upset, you know” Loki said. “I’m still paddling. But I honestly just could not sleep. I was sick of staring at the ceiling”

“You know you could’ve come to me”

“I know. But I wanted to come out here... It’s been so long since we did this” 

Loki looked back over the balcony, watching an aeroplane making its way across the sky. Tony watched him, shuddering a bit in the cool breeze. He looked at the sky for a moment, at their clasped hands, and finally back at Loki. He looked so tired. His hair was windswept, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He was watching the sky so intently, listening to his music playing softly. Tony suddenly felt funny in his stomach. Loki looked so calm. Happy, even. 

“I love you”

Loki tore his eyes away from the sky. “I love you too. I love you so much”

For a moment they just looked at each other, hands still clasped. They both noticed when the speakers began playing the next track, recognising the song at once. 

Tony stood up, and Loki did too, taking Tony’s other hand. They both suddenly felt quite nervous with emotion. They let the song take over, dancing close, not quite looking each other in the eye, hearing their pulses beating in their ears. Soon they were dancing closer, inches between them. They both got the familiar hot feeling in their chests, both knowing where they were heading. 

Their eyes met, and they went for the kiss. Everything seemed to stop still for them. Slowly, Tony let go of Loki’s hands, putting his arms round his waist and pulling him closer... Loki stopped, hugging him tight, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder for a moment. He couldn’t help smiling, and soon went back for more, one hand on Tony’s arm, the other on his shoulder.

They smiled against each other, both trembling slightly and feeling a little choked up and overwhelmed. Everything felt perfectly wonderful.

Loki rested his head back against Tony’s shoulder, and Tony held him tighter still, moving one hand to the back of his love’s head. Loki closed his eyes, breathing deeply. For once, he had the feeling he was right where he belonged.

At 3.30am, the world belongs to the lovers.

*

[recentanimenews]

The Manga Revue, 4/16/18

Today’s super-sized Manga Revue comes to you courtesy of Patriot’s Day, my second favorite Massachusetts-only holiday. (The first is Evacuation Day, a thinly-disguised attempt to give Boston’s civil servants permission to skip work on St. Pattie’s.) In addition to a bumper crop of links, I have two reviews for you: volume four of D&D cooking extravaganza Delicious in Dungeon, and volumes three and four of everyone’s favorite backwoods culinary adventure Golden Kamuy. Looking back on food manga’s early history in the US, who could have predicted that readers would be feasting on such a wide array of titles in 2018, from Sweetness and Lightning and What Did You Eat Yesterday? to Giant Spider & Me: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale, Food Wars!! Shokugeki no Soma, and Toriko. Maybe the North American market is finally ready for an Iron Wok Jan renaissance…

Delicious in Dungeon, Vol. 4 Story and Art by Ryoko Kui Translated by Taylor Engel Yen Press, 192 pp. Rated T, for Teens (13+)

If the first volume of Delicious in Dungeon was about assembling a posse, and the second and third about turning monsters into meals, then the fourth is about friendship — specifically, the strong emotional bond between Laois, Marcille, and Falin — and revenge, as the gang finally comes face-to-face with the Red Dragon. The showdown takes place inside a walled city whose narrow, maze-like streets give them a strategic advantage over their Godzilla-sized foe. And as exciting as the fight is, the real payoff is what follows, as Laois and Marcille discover that bringing Falin back from the dead isn’t a simple proposition. It’s in these moments that Ryoko Kui proves a more deft storyteller than we initially realized, effortlessly shifting gears from comedy to drama without mawkishness or cheap jokes. Instead, we’re allowed to contemplate the real horror of being eaten alive — as Falin was — and the real possibility of a character dying for good.

If I’ve made volume four sound like a bummer, rest assured it isn’t. Seshi gets his turn in the spotlight with a lethal display of culinary bravado, while the rest of the gang endures its share of fumbles and miscommunications on the way to catching their dragon adversary. Though I suspect the next volume of Delicious in Dungeon may revert to its monster-of-the-week formula, that’s OK, since Kui has left the door open for more moments of earnest reflection. Recommended.

Golden Kamuy, Vols. 3-4 Story and Art by Satoru Noda Translated by Eiji Yasuda VIZ Media Rated M, for Mature (18+)

The strengths and weaknesses of Golden Kamuy are neatly encapsulated in a conversation that happens midway through volume four. Asirpa coaxes Sugimoto to try fox meat, to which he responds, “You know, I’m not out here to try all the delicacies in Hokkaido.” In this exchange, author Satoru Noda tacitly admits that Golden Kamuy is more compelling as a study of Ainu culture than a bloody frontier adventure, a supposition borne out by the series’ frequent and fascinating detours into the food, medicine, and mythology of the Ainu; I’ve learned more about bear-hunting techniques from the last two volumes than I did in forty-five years of walking the Earth.

Golden Kamuy is on weaker footing when introducing new characters and subplots. None of the other gold-seekers are fleshed out as carefully as Asirpa and Sugimoto, reducing them to mere obstacles despite Noda’s efforts to give each villain a unique motivation for wanting the treasure. The newest baddie — Kazuo Hemni — exemplifies this problem to a tee: though he’s been given a particularly grisly backstory to explain his murderous proclivities, he’s such a textbook sociopath that he barely rises above the preternaturally-calm-and-savage type. His main function seems to be ramping up the body count, rather than complicating Asirpa and Sugimoto’s quest in a meaningful way.

The art, too, sometimes has a perfunctory quality; in several scenes, Noda’s use of a Photoshopped background doesn’t mesh well with the hand-drawn elements, resulting in an image that inadvertently calls attention to its artificiality. Noda’s use of perspective, too, is sometimes a distraction. He has difficult drawing bodies to scale, especially when he’s depicting Asirpa and her family, some of whom look more like Smurfs than people in their head-to-body ratio.

Still, the camaraderie between Asirpa and Sugimoto, and the well-staged action scenes more than compensate for the occasional roughness of the execution or flatness of the characterization. Golden Kamuy continues to entertain, horrify, and educate in equal measure — something I can’t say for any other manly-man manga that’s currently being published in English. Recommended.

Must-Read Reviews

Sean Gaffney offers a thoughtful appraisal of My Boy, pronouncing it “a good, meaningful work, told with a deft hand,” while Chris Galaver declares Seiichi Hayashi’s Red-Colored Elegy a classic. Over at NerdSpan, Keith Hendricks checks in with Delicious in Dungeon and One-Punch Man.

New and Noteworthy

Again!!, Vol. 1 (Rebecca Silverman, Anime News Network)

Again!!, Vol. 1 (Michelle Smith, Soliloquy in Blue)

Again!!, Vol. 1 (Ross Liversidge, UK Anime Network)

The Ancient Magus’ Bride, Vols. 1-8 (Michelle Smith, Soliloquy in Blue)

Children of the Whales, Vol. 1 (Faith Orcino, Anime Ushi)

CITY, Vol. 1 (Ian Wolf, Anime UK News)

CITY, Vol. 1 (Martha Cornog, Library Journal)

CITY, Vol. 1 (Ross Liversidge, UK Anime Network)

Cutie Honey a Go Go! (Evan Bourgault, Boston Bastard Brigade)

Cutie Honey a Go Go! (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)

Devilman Grimoire, Vol. 1 (Robert McCarthy, Otaku USA)

Fire Punch, Vol. 1 (Theron Martin, Anime News Network)

Goblin Slayer, Vol. 1 (Bill Curtis, Yatta Tachi)

Goldfisch, Vol. 1 (Kathleen Townsend, Looking Glass Reads)

Kenka Bancho Otome: Love’s Battle Royale, Vol. 1 (Rebecca Silverman, Anime News Network)

Kenka Bancho Otome: Love’s Battle Royale, Vol. 1 (Katherine Dacey, The Manga Critic)

Laid-Back Camp, Vol. 1 (Rebecca Silverman, Anime News Network)

Laid-Back Camp, Vol. 1 (J. Caleb Mozzocco, Good Comics for Kids)

Mermaid Boys, Vol. 1 (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)

Monster Tamer Girls, Vol. 1 (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)

Monster Tamer Girls, Vol. 1 (Justin, The OASG)

Moteki: Love Strikes!, Vol. 1 (Mehsi, Twirling Book Princess)

Moteki: Love Strikes!, Vol. 1 (Sally, Sally After Words)

Moteki: Love Strikes!, Vol. 1 (Michelle Smith, Soliloquy in Blue)

My Boy, Vol. 1 (Eric Cline, AiPT!)

Nameless Asterism, Vol. 1 (Erica Friedman, Okazu)

Real Life, Vol. 1 (Carlos Frigo, The Fandom Post)

RWBY (Jason Bradley Thompson, Otaku USA)

Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 1 (Sakura Eries, The Fandom Post)

Slumbering Beauty, Vol. 1 (Faith Orcino, Anime Ushi)

A Terrified Teacher at Ghoul School, Vol. 1 (Melina Dargis, The Fandom Post)

Though You May Burn to Ash, Vol. 1 (Justin, The OASG)

Tokyo Ghoul:re, Vols. 1-4 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)

Waiting for Spring, Vols. 1-4 (Krystallina, Daiyamanga)

The Young Master’s Revenge, Vol. 1 (Leroy Douresseaux, Comic Book Bin)

The Young Master’s Revenge, Vol. 1 (Anna N., The Manga Report)

your name, Vol. 1 (Brittany Vincent, Otaku USA)

Ongoing Series

Anonymous Noise, Vol. 6 (Gabe Peralta, The Fandom Post)

Assassination Classroom, Vol. 21 (Eric Cline, AiPT!)

Battle Angel Alita: Deluxe Edition, Vol. 3 (David Brooke, AiPT!)

Case Closed, Vol. 66 (Sally, Sally After Words)

Dimension W, Vol. 8 (Melina Dargis, The Fandom Post)

Dragon Ball Super #33 (Siddharth Gupta, All-Comic)*

Dragon Ball Super #34 (Siddharth Gupta, All-Comic)*

Dreamin’ Sun, Vol. 6 (Aaron, Manga Energy)

Elegant Yokai Apartment Life, Vol. 4 (Eric Cline, AiPT!)*

Golden Kamuy, Vols. 3-4 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)

Good Night Punpun, Vol. 7 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)

I Hear the Sunspot: Theory of Happiness (Josh Piedra, The Outerhaven)

The Isolator, Vol. 3 (Alisha Taran, Reality’s A Bore)

Kiss Him, Not Me!, Vol. 13 (Johanna Draper Carlson, Comics Worth Reading)

The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service Omnibus, Vol. 2 (Kathleen Townsend, Looking Glass Reads)

Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic, Vol. 13 (Dennis Amith, J-Ent! Online)

Mobile Suit Gundam: Thunderbolt, Vols. 5-6 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)

My Hero Academia, Vol. 12 (Trevor Richardson, AiPT!)

My Monster Secret, Vol. 10 (Aaron, Manga Energy)

The Promised Neverland, Vol. 2 (Helen, The OASG)

The Promised Neverland, Vol. 3 (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)

Sweet Blue Flowers, Vol. 2 (Melina Dargis, The Fandom Post)

Sweet Blue Flowers, Vol. 3 (Erica Friedman, Okazu)

Sweetness & Lightning, Vol. 8 (Johanna Draper Carlson, Comics Worth Reading)

Takane & Hana, Vol. 2 (Johanna Draper Carlson, Comics Worth Reading)

Takane & Hana, Vol. 2 (Anna N., The Manga Report)

A Terrified Teacher at Ghoul School, Vol. 2 (Alisha Taran, Reality’s A Bore)

Tokyo Ghoul:re, Vol. 3 (Leroy Douresseaux, Comic Book Bin)

The Water Dragon’s Bride, Vol. 5 (Aaron, Manga Energy)

W.I.T.C.H., Vol. 4 (Kate O’Neil, The Fandom Post)

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 11 (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)

your name, Vol. 3 (Helen, The OASG)

your name, Vol. 3 (Alisha Taran, Reality’s A Bore)

From the Vault

Butterflies, Flowers (Megan R., The Manga Test Drive)

Kabuki: Flower (Megan R., The Manga Test Drive)

Master Keaton, Vol. 12 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)

Pink (Trevor Richardson, AiPT!)

Swan, Vol. 1 (SKJAM, SKJAM! Reviews)

Tokyo Ghoul, Vol. 1 (Trevor Richardson, AiPT!)

Voice Over! Seiyuu Academy, Vol. 2 (SKJAM, SKJAM! Reviews)

* Denotes a digital-first or digital-only release

By: Katherine Dacey

[foursprout-blog]

"You Grow Up Wanting To Be Luke Skywalker, Then Realize You've Become A Stormtrooper For The Empire"

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/you-grow-up-wanting-to-be-luke-skywalker-then-realize-youve-become-a-stormtrooper-for-the-empire/

"You Grow Up Wanting To Be Luke Skywalker, Then Realize You've Become A Stormtrooper For The Empire"

Authored by US Army combat veteran Daniel Crimmins via Upriser.com,

You grew up wanting so bad to be Luke Skywalker, but you realize that you were basically a Stormtrooper, a faceless, nameless rifleman, carrying a spear for empire, and you start to accept the startlingly obvious truth that these are people like you.

Question: How do you Americans as a people walk around head held high, knowing that every few months your country is committing a 9/11 size atrocity to other people. Imagine if the 9/11 terror attacks were happening in America every few months. Again and again, innocent people dying all around you. Your brothers and sisters. For no reason.

Daniel Crimmins from U.S. Army 3rd Infantry Division answered:

Many of us are unable. Many of us watched 9/11, and accepted the government and media’s definition of the attack as a act of war rather than a criminal action. A smaller portion, drifting along passively thought a major war was coming, that people we knew were going to fight and die. Some of us maybe worried about our younger brother being drafted, despite being in college. Now, it seems stupid, but in the 72 hours after 9/11, some Americans, maybe suffering from depression, certainly with a mind shaped by comic books and action movies, ate up the “us vs. them” good vs. evil rhetoric spouted by the cowboy in chief. After all, he was the president, and no matter how bright you might think yourself, you can still be swayed by passion and emotion, led to terrible decisions.

Some of us, therefore, left our dorm rooms, and walked down Main Street to the recruiter’s office. Some of us were genuinely surprised the office wasn’t full to bursting of young men eager to avenge their fallen countrymen. Some of us were genuinely surprised when we had to push the recruiter to stop trying to sell desk jobs and just let us join the damn Infantry.

Image via Upriser.com

Some of us got enlisted, then, and went down to Georgia, head high to mask the anxiety and fear they might have helped. Perhaps some number of Americans in this situation discovered that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea, but would be goddamned if they were going to admit it, and let everyone back home smuggly remark on how right they were.

So they persevere. They learn to work as a unit, to look past personality issues, to see each other as Soldiers rather than as a race, or economic status, or any of the other things people hate about each other. They learn to kill.

Then some of these people, perhaps while sitting hungover in the platoon area in the Republic of Korea hear that we have invaded Iraq. They have “Big Scary Bombs”, and Saddam Hussein, the secular Arab dictator had somehow colluded with the devoutly religious Osama Bin Laden to attack the US. They hated our freedom, you see.

Then some of these young American men might transfer back to Georgia and be assigned to the 3rd Infantry Division, and end up in Iraq in January of 2005. And maybe these kids, still drunk on Fox News and fantasies of glory and renown being enough to win their ex-girlfriends back, are excited to go to Iraq. Sure, we hadn’t found any WMDs yet, and we had Hussein in custody, but they were still somehow a threat and had to be dragged kicking and screaming into Jeffersonian democracy. Inside every dirka is a good American, yearning to be free.

So you fight. You kill. Watch friends die. Its usually quick, almost never quiet, but for the rest of your life, when you remember sitting at the bar with them, they’re blown open. You picture the nights you spent downtown at Scruffy Murphy’s, but instead of the stupid hookah shell necklace, your boy’s jaw is blown off, and his left eye is ruined, and he’s screaming.

You fight, you kill, you watch friends die, and you notice a distinct lack of change. You kick in doors and tell terrified women to sit on the floor while you and your friends ransack their home, tearing the place apart, because they might be hiding weapons. There is no reason to believe this house in particular is enemy, same for the next one, and the one after that, or the seven before; they just happened to be there, and maybe they had weapons. Probably not, they almost never did. There were a few times when we had deliberate raids based on solid intel and we’d turn up some stuff, but generally we were just tossing houses because we could.

Then maybe your FISTer [field artillery forward observer] forgets to carry the remainder, and drops a mess of mortars on the village your supposed to protect. Maybe the big Iraqi running at you screaming was just mentally ill. Of course, you won’t know this until after you’ve put seven rounds through his rib cage, and his wailing, ancient mother is cradling his body, spitting at you.

Maybe when you get back to the FOB [Forward Operating Base], the Platoon Sergeant tells you you did the right thing; next time, it might be a suicide bomber. They tell you it was an honest mistake, it wasn’t your fault. They tell you to go get some chow, take a shower if the water works, and sleep it off. You did good work that day, apparently.

Chris Hondros’ well-known “One Night in Tal Afar” photograph (Getty Images) showing the aftermath of a checkpoint shooting – Samar Hassan, 5, screams after her parents were killed after their car unwittingly approached a US Army checkpoint at dusk in Tal Afar, Iraq.

During chow, the TV is on AFN, and they are rebroadcasting some Fox News show, and you’re hearing about drone strikes, and all the great things we’re doing, and you can’t help but see that poor dumb assholes face, looking past his mother as he bleeds to death. He’s in pain, obviously, but he has the most perfectly confused look on his face. He doesn’t comprehend what’s happening. Little more hot sauce on your eggs doesn’t really help.

Then you realize you haven’t seen anything to support the idea that these poor fuckers are a threat to your home. You look around and you see all he contractors making six figure salaries to fix your shit, train Iraqis, maintain the ridiculous SUVs the KBR dicks ride around in. You consider the fact that every 25mm shell costs about forty bucks, and your company has been handing those fuckers out like shrapnel flavored parade candies. You think about all the fuel you’re going through, all the ammo and missiles and grenades. You think about every time you lose a vehicle, the Army buys a new one. Maybe you start to see a lot of people making a lot of money on huge amounts of human suffering.

Then you go on leave, and realize that Ayn Rand has no idea what the fuck she’s talking about. You realize that Fox News and Limbaugh and John McCain don’t respect you or your buddies. They don’t give a fuck if you get a parade or a box when you get home, you’re nothing to them but a prop.

Then you get out, and you hate the news. You hate the apathy, and you hate the murder being carried out in your name. You grew up wanting so bad to be Luke Skywalker, but you realize that you were basically a Stormtrooper, a faceless, nameless rifleman, carrying a spear for empire, and you start to accept the startlingly obvious truth that these are people like you.

Maybe your heart breaks a little every time some asshole brags about a “successful” drone strike.

Your statement is correct enough; if all of America was one dude, that dude would not give a shit about the little brown people we’re burning and crushing and choking to death. We aren’t all like that, but it makes me incredibly, profoundly sad to see what my country actually is.

Some of us care, and I think there are more every day.