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Have you gotten back from work yet?

On my way now, why?

You ever grow one of those chia pets, you know, that sprout the grass? And there's like, so much grass that you're all, "fuck, this is out of control now, maybe I should trim this grass"? So you go in with some scissors and are doing a wicked job, but when you're done it looks uneven? And you can't have that, obviously, so you cut some more off and it's even more lopsided than it was before? Eventually you're like, "damn, I'm gonna shave this whole thing and start over"? You ever do that?

No, hiruma, I have never done that
Sprayed weed killer on my brother's chia pet once though, does that count?
Also I hope the point is coming up soon

Well, I was over to get the salad bowl earlier. And it was way too hot out. And he had way too much hair to ever be physically comfortable. Disclaimer: It went way too far, but I totally had Chewie's best interests in mind ok, js.

I
Am going
To KILL you
DEAD
Do you hear me

And when you come back to life
I'm gonna do it again
Just for funsies

Ok that's fair and all, but do me a solid and gimme five minutes??? to get out of the vicinity of your house first. Lol.

Are you seriously asking me for a head start
B/c this is me driving faster

[NO RESPONSE.

see hiruma run.

see hiruma run and leap gracefully over a low backyard fence, merrily laughing his ass off the entire way.]

[YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS

OH, YOU WILL PAY.]

[an hour later there is a knock at hiruma's door.

if he should glance through the peephole he will see carol, looking eerily calm, a shorn and clearly uncomfortable cat in her arms.]

[oh, and peep he does.

hiruma saw her coming from a mile away — he wasn't joking about the eyes he's installed around the neighbourhood. but like a civilized human being (and not at all smirking like he won the fucking lottery), he pulls the door open wide, eyes creasing.]

Oh, what a pleasant surprise; Miss Danvers, and her chupacabra!

[she doesn't say anything, just smiles with all of the cloying honey-sweetness she can muster

and flings the cat

claws-first

at his face.]

[SWEET JESUS, CATS—

there's a pitched exclamation as chewie's claws make first contact, but nothing more, even as the hooked nails rake down his chin, ear, scalp, and eyebrow. long, red, angry streaks bead with the blood of the puttytat's worst nemesis.]

[—and hiruma only grabs it by the scruff of the neck when it has mounted onto his blond mop of hair.

with a strong kick, the door swings shut in carol's face, and he turns, writhing cat in hand, stomping straight down the hall.]

OH, WHAT A FILTHY RUG. MAYBE CHLORINE WILL HELP DOUSE THE STENCH!

[the patio door slaps open.]

[her mirth is short-lived as, with a sinking feeling of dread in her heart, carol realises she has made a huge mistake.

the front door crashes back open and she's through the house like a shot, battle cry ringing out in her wake--]

HIRUMAAAAAAAA--!

[the minute she catches sight of that skinny back she'll be aiming for it in a fierce, angry tackle.]

[forceful shout heard at the last second, hiruma's body immediately buckles forward, like someone swung a sack of bricks at his lower back.

his fingers are prized open with a delayed reaction, but the cat

is pitched

into the air

as hiruma's face slaps the still water of the pool, thanks to his toe catching on the ladder's handlebar.

and ~~jill~~ carol came tumbling after.]

[the terrified yowling carries for all of five seconds, before carol meets the pool headfirst and all outside noise is shut out.

water fills her lungs and she grabs at whatever part of hiruma she can reach, using him to push herself to the surface, gasping and spluttering and looking like a mercilessly drowned rat.

she flails an arm out for the ladder, hacking up chlorine and calling out for the damn cat.]

Chewie! [cough cough--] Chewie!

[a few beats later, hiruma breaks, spitting a mouthful to the side, water streaming from the tip of his too-sharp nose.

his hair clings slickly to his head as he treads (pool's full of drowned rats), slapping at his forehead to pull the soggy strands out of his eyes.]

Cats can swim, you fucking spaz, jesus christ!

[he laughs, and he laughs hard, the balls of his feet meeting the bottom when he's close enough to the shallow end to walk the rest of the way. sure enough the cats batting at the water looking every bit as miserable as carol; like owner like pet, hiruma muses.

and he's content enough, even fully dressed, to lean back and float there.]

Yo, Danvers, might need a new shirt — yours looks a little threadbare!

[the laughs never stop.]

[she's up the ladder and out of the pool and realising it at the same second he mentions it -- shit. carol flushes red with anger (definitely just anger) and folds her arms over her front, glaring at hiruma hot enough to burn.

it's a small mercy that at least her jeans aren't as clingy.]

I'll show you threadbare in a minute, you little--

[but she's interrupted by a yowling, as chewie chooses that moment to escape the water herself, rocketing toward the back fence, clawing her way up and over. and she's gone.]

God dammit!

[and the glare is back on the pointy-eared idiot, except this time it clearly says you had better find my cat if you don't wanna die today.]

Some hero you are — can't even save a water-logged pussy!

[it does push him into action though. hiruma feels a little sorry for chewie, owing the cat at the very least a mosey around the yard, but he feels more sorry for his clothing. good way to air dry, he guesses, as he shakes out his hair like a sopping wet dog.

grabbing the handles of the ladder, foot securing him a spot on the second rung, hiruma hauls himself up and out, too thankful it's summer.

a cursory glance down at the black v-neck that's tight enough to be a second skin, and his chafing motherfucking pants, he drips over to carol. all toothy smirk as he passes by, chin high.]

Oh, and, by the by? You owe me twenty bucks.

[don't look, carol, don't even look -- wait.]

That's what this was about?

[and she whips around to him, all furious disbelief.]

You're such an ass.

[speaking of, he's barely got one, which makes this situation far from even. damn.]

[...]

[oh.]

Yo, cat's not down there, Danvers!

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1/2 makin your life miserable

2/2