#back in high school

[occudo]

I have your art in my new sketchbook!!!!!

Whaaaa!! I'm so glad! My little boy is Somewhere Else (tm)

[aheckinmess]

Shut In

(Part 1 of Kitten Down to Business.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Loki, Loki Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Marvel Cinematic Universe, MCU, Canon Divergence, Original Female Character(s), Original Animal Character(s), Loki Adopts a Cat, Thor Adopts a Dog, Cat Was Previously Abused, Loki Offers Her a Better Life, Thor Offers Her an Annoying Dog Companion, But It's Okay, They All Become One Big Happy Family, Found Family, Loki is Trying His Best, Thor is Not Stupid, Protective Thor, Loki & Thor Bro Adventures, I Originally Wrote This When I Was a Teen, Back In High School, Here's To Adult Me Trying to Unravel Whatever Crack Plot Smaller Me Had in Mind, Cheers to That

Word Count: 1,237 words

Summary: To one young Norwegian forest cat, life is a cage. Abused and abandoned by her owners, Sage now spends her days locked in the confines of the cage within a local animal shelter - not that she's entirely opposed. Though she dares not trust any potential adoption prospects, her outlook on life drastically changes when one dazzling pair of green eyes meets hers. What starts as the two Odinson brothers' hope of securing a pet companion becomes the beginning of their greatest adventure yet.

Author's Note: Welcome! I hope you enjoy this story, as it was originally posted on deviantArt when I was much younger (about 15 or so) and I've now decided to revive it for fun. That being said, all I remember about this story was that it's divergent from canon. If I had to pick the closest timeline for it, I'd probably say after the Thor movie, but Loki doesn't die and they both get matters settled cordially (or as cordially as they can) on Asgard. It's mainly meant to be a slice of life piece, so happy reading!

Chapter 1: Shut In

Life is a cage and I want nothing more than to break out and feel the earth between my toe pads. What I wouldn’t give to stretch my legs without fear that every step might come at the cost of immeasurable pain and bristled fur.

My head snaps towards the door at the sound of tinkling bells and heavy footsteps.

“Hello, welcome to the animal shelter!” Cindy calls from the front. 

Steel bars mar my vision as I crawl backwards to lay flush against the cold metal trapping me inside. Humans come in, day in and day out, looking for another play thing to take home and abuse.

Please don’t come here. Please don’t come here. My dark fur usually keeps me hidden from the wandering, ugly eyes of searching tormentors leering into my private abode. 

Pick me! The fat tabby screeches from the cage below me; I can hear her fur rubbing against the cage.

No way! Everyone wants you, Jewel. Pick me! Crystal hisses, claws jingling on her own door. 

“My brother would like to inquire about your selection of feline companions.” A blonde and burly human steps up to the counter with a loud voice that prompts me to curl up into a tight, defensive little ball. Can’t let them see me. 

“Of course!” There’s a flurry of movement as Cindy leads the two, much taller humans in our direction. “Jewel has been a fan favorite among cat lovers. She’s a little older, but she’s very cuddly and well-mannered. Crystal is a good lap cat and likes to play outside. Frankie is skittish, but once he warms up to you, he’s quite talkative.”

Two voices clash as the two large men discuss the different options presented to them. The blonde is easy enough to distinguish, even from miles away, if only because of his boisterous outbursts. His companion, a man with a black mane, appears thoroughly unimpressed with each feline presented to him.

Then his green eyes meet mine.

“What about this one? What’s her name? The information on the cage appears incomplete.” His voice soothes me, soft like velvet and allowing me to relax my body briefly.

When I realize I’ve let my guard down, I contract all my muscles again. I watch him, not even daring to blink as he coos soft assurances at me.

“Oh! That’s Sage.” Cindy looks at him and then me, her eyes painted with pity. A growl rumbles in my chest as a warning for both of them. “We found her outside, neglected and alone. She showed signs of abuse and most people have found they’re not interested in her because it takes her a long time to engage with anyone. When we first got her, she reacted more violently when provoked. Now, she settles for growling to let you know she wants space.”

Green Eyes stares at me for a while, and I stare back.

You don’t have to be afraid. His body language says.

Fear keeps me alive. I hiss, before loosening up a bit. But…I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

“...I want her.” He breathes.

My old masters used to torture me in every way possible, the shadow of their presence domineering and filling me with uncertainty and trepidation. Green Eyes casts a shadow that’s warm and blankets me with safety and security.

I can’t trust it.

I growl louder as instincts take over and I try digging my claws into the floor. It serves as a harsh reminder of their removal years prior.

“She may take a while to come around. She’s been here for four months and still hides whenever I reach in to pet her. She was declawed when we found her.” Cindy explains, before cooing softly and stretching her hands into the outskirts of my reach. “Sage? Sage, you have a visitor.” 

My cell door rattles as her arm pries further in – I don’t move.

“Maybe if we give her a little time with the door open. Were you looking for any other animals today?” Cindy compromises, retracting her hand but leaving the door ajar.

“Yes! May I look at your selection of dog breeds?” The loud one grins.

“Certainly. If you’d like to stay here, sir, I’ll lead your friend back this way.” Cindy says, before Green Eyes nods and the other two depart.

Shortly after they leave, the sound of barking dogs echoes down the hallway.

“Loud bunch, aren’t they, Sage?” Green Eyes coos, never taking his eyes off of me. “I’m Loki. My brother is the one that just went looking for a dog. His name’s Thor.”

Why is he telling me this? I wonder. I just want everyone to go away. Can’t he see that? I don’t want to be hurt anymore.

“I’m sure you’ve been through quite the ordeal. I wouldn’t blame you for withholding your trust for a measured time, Sage.” He continues, as though he can hear my every thought. “But I assure you, I will not harm you. I will give you a home that you can learn to walk in without fear, and protect you from all dangers.”

Several quiet moments pass as I gauge his words. Two more humans walk in and flock to the small rodents in the room adjacent. No one’s ever told me that before. I want to believe him, desperately.

I want to know warmth and good food. I want to know soft voices and gentle touches. I want the earth to feel sure beneath my feet and stand by a master that treats me like an equal, who will praise me for what I’ve done right. 

Loki reaches his hand into my cage and sets it at the edge, still as stone.

With agonizing slowness, I uncurl my limbs and move closer to sniff his hand and glean his intention from his scent. He smells like sandalwood and petrichor, like mischief and a playful spirit. Beyond that, there’s a subtle whiff of something like sparkling fire.

I pull my head back as a preventative, but he remains unbothered. His expression doesn’t change, inviting and safe.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to hurt you.” He promises.

Poking my head closer to him, I move into his orbit and rub my head against his hand to judge his level of trustworthiness. Delicate hands stroke my fur down to the base of my neck before coming back up to my head. He seems to understand my need for space just as much as I understand our mutual need for warmth.

This is what I’ve always wanted.

Thor returns with a large, excitable dog on his heels when I finally opt to seek refuge in Loki’s arms. My head tucks into the crook of Loki’s elbow to dampen the sound of their arrival.

“Brother! You’ve managed to sway the young creature – you always did have a way with animals.” Thor chuckles. “I’ve found a companion of my own!”

There’s a fair amount of shuffling as pleasantries are exchanged with Cindy. A white sheet of paper with writing can be seen when Loki shifts me around in his arms, gentle and lithe in his movements. 

“Thanks for offering these two a loving new home. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to contact us!” Cindy smiles.

Then, the wide open world lays open before me as we all step into the crisp, cool air.

[brother-father]

liam payne being dead is actually insane

[thoseareyougotsomeniceshoulders]

omegaverse show in MTV's Daria.. call that slick sad world

[bee-whistler]

My son tried the, “You remind me of the babe…” thing with his gamer friends and no one got it. He was very disappointed.

I understand… When I was in college I tried the same thing, only I was quoting a much older movie called “The Major and the Minor.” That version starts with, “You remind me of a man…” All I can remember happening is one girl dryly saying, “Wow… thanks…”

[anon55mystery]

Anya's Ghost (2011) by Vera Brosgol

Anya Meets Emily

[everything-changes-once-again]

today in session my dietician asked if I’ve ever forgiven my 16 year old self for the choices she made that led me here, and I think my brain short circuited

[lunarsapphism]

screaming and clawing at the bars of my cage (english 101 class). LET ME OUT OF HEREEE !!

[sabertoothwalrus]

modern au laios

[kylominis]

Omnipotent Perception pt 2? [♡]

[suntails]

growing up!

[marimbles]

Halloween comic two weeks late bc i will never let tamadrien die

[transdemon]

um.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Side Quest

"Okay, we're sitting here doing nothing for twenty minutes already," Tim crumbles the burger wrapper in his hands, absentmindedly trying to shape it into a sphere just because he needs to keep his hands busy. "Care to spill why are we here?"

"We ain't doing nothing," Jason doesn't even look up at him — isn't that a surprise — instead leaning back in his seat. He doesn't take his eyes off the window. Tim hates sitting by the windows in BatBurgers, it always makes him feel like a fish inside the aquarium.

"That's exactly the point," he debates if he should throw his misshapen missile at his brother. Not like it will get any more sphere-like, anyway.

Jason rolls his eyes and spares Tim a quick glance, "No, I meant, we are not doing nothing. We're waiting."

"Waiting for what, the second coming of Jesus Christ?" Tim succumbs to his heart's deepest desires and throws the wrapper at Jason. It hits him right in the forehead, score for Tim. And yet, the man still doesn't rise the the bait; instead, the motherfucker laughs. It's quiet and breathless and short, but it's still a laugh.

"Close enough. Has anyone ever told you you're the most funny when you don't intend to be, Timberly?" Jason smirks at him, and Tim really wishes he's had something else to throw at him. But at this point, his options are only the table and chairs, seeing that he's already wasted the wrapper, and he doesn't want to cause an actual commotion. Yet.

So he leans back, mirroring Jason's position, and crosses his arms on his chest. "I'll take it as a compliment," it's a weak retort, but he doesn't have the energy to come up with anything better. The recent murder case, one involving a sorry excuse of a cult, an out-of-town drug dealer and, by some crazy twist of events, three nuns from Missouri, has been driving him nuts for the past week, sue him.

He so regrets asking Jason for help right now. It's not even the matter of his dignity — it's just that Jason is not helping, and most likely, doing it on purpose.

"Please, do," the unhelpful asshole gives him his grand permission, turning back to the window. But, a second later, his whole face lights up like Christmas came early, and he sits up, "Oh, there he is!"

In the next moment, the door to BatBurger slams open, and in steps... a guy.

Black hair, blue eyes, lanky, slim build — makes sense why Jason never mentioned him before, Bruce would have flipped his shit at the sight of an unadopted Bat-bait.

Worn denim jacket with rolled up sleeves, black t-shirt underneath, loose pants and sneakers — nothing out of the ordinary, really.

Except the guy has a fucking crowbar that he carries on his shoulder, and both the tool and his hands all the way up to his elbows are drenched in something dark red and wet. Tim would say it's blood, but then, would the guy really be showing up here covered in blood?

On the second thought, it's Gotham. He definitely would.

The guy looks around and wrinkles his nose slightly when he spots Jason. Then, he makes his way towards their table, the crowbar still on his shoulders.

"'Sup," he greets Jason, and as he stops right in front of the table, Tim sees that it's not only his hands that are stained with red. There are splatters of it on his face and neck as well.

"You've got something on your cheek," Jason gestures to his own face, trying to show where said 'something' is. The guy throws him a deadpan look and then licks it off without second thought.

His tongue is a lot longer than it should be. Tim takes a deep breath, looking between the bloody dude and Jason. He really hopes that his face is expressive enough for the latter to read the 'what the actual fuck' through his eyes alone.

"Okay, just so you're aware, an absolutely marvelous kind of high school reunion had to be put on pause because you called," the guy starts, wiping one of his hands on his jacket. "So, like, explain your fuck-up situation to me in ten words."

Jason, the absolute traitor, looks to Tim. The guy follows him, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Okay, ten words. He can totally do that.

"A sacrificial pentagram of dead nuns high on mystery cocaine," Tim says after a moment, looking the guy straight in the eyes.

He blinks. Then, he tilts his head sideways, like he's not sure if he heard Tim right. Tim just keeps staring at him — that was precisely ten words, and he is definitely not chickening out of this little-shit-superiority contest.

"O-kay," the guy finally says, slow and begrudgingly respectful, "I'm eighty seven percent certain this is about to be the highlight of my week." He gestures for Jason to move over and drops the bloody crowbar on the table before sitting just opposite to Tim.

"Spill."

[justisaisfine]

It’s been 17 years since I last drew these boys,,,, I want them to take a nap

[seumyo]

Bakugou didn’t like you.

He didn’t.

You weren’t even in the same class. Barely even interacted. Just two UA students who happened to take the same train every so often. Yet, whenever you were near, he was hyper-aware of you.

For example, he could be in the school’s gymnasium with the rest of the class, resting after a rigorous basketball training, but the minute he caught sight of you in the bleachers to collect the leftover materials, suddenly all basketballs are making it through the hoop.

Not that he cared. He didn’t do it to impress you.

He doesn’t even know what you did to have him notice you in the first place. An enigma that has him hooked.

The train slowed as he approached the station, the robotic voice announcing their stop. Bakugou stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, only to glance at you just as you pocketed your gadget and stood as well.

Just my luck.

The train doors slid open, and you both stepped onto the platform, the cool morning air greeting you. Bakugou stuffed his hands into his pockets, his usual scowl in place, already planning to walk ahead—only to hear a familiar patter of liquid against the pavement below.

Shit.

Within seconds, the drizzle turned into a steady shower. Students groaned, hurriedly pulling out umbrellas—not wanting to be late. Bakugou clicked his tongue, reaching into his bag to grab his own when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you just standing there, blinking at the street.

No umbrella.

Of course.

He should’ve ignored it. Should’ve just walked ahead like he always did. But instead, he found himself sighing—deeply, begrudgingly—before flicking his umbrella open.

“Hey,” he grunted, stepping closer so the umbrella covered both of them. “Don’t just stand there like an idiot.”

You blinked at him, startled. “Oh. Um—” you hesitated, then smiled sheepishly. “You don’t have to—”

“I ain’t gonna let you walk in the rain, dumbass.” His ears burned. “Just walk.”

A pause. Then, to his horror, you laughed.

Not scoffed. Not sighed. Laughed.

It was light. Amused. Like he had just said the most funny thing in the world.

His grip on the umbrella tightened.

You walked side by side, your pace naturally slower than his. It was torture. Bakugou had to consciously slow himself down, had to fight the instinct to just power ahead and leave you behind. But you were under his damn umbrella now, and he wasn’t about to be a jerk and make you run after him.

So, he adjusted his steps. He adjusted.

For you.

Oh, god. He must've caught a flu.

It was annoying. Unnatural. But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks, Bakugou,” you said after a while.

His chest felt tight.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

He didn’t like you.

He didn’t.

So why was he hoping that the next morning it’ll rain the same and that he gets to go on the same train car as you?

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