#assumed he was scared or something and he went 'its a cat carrier! for the vet!' and i said yeah and pretended not to hear whatever he

[mirmidones]

why do men feel the need to start a conversation with girls all the freaking time. fucking trip into the railroad and die

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ todoroki shoto x reader → cat naps 

event: domestic fluff prompt summary: you and shoto adopt a cat word count: 1,929 tags/warnings: fluff a/n: this was requested by @fudgingheckdudarino​ sorry for the wait. this was way longer than intended but i really enjoyed it.

You wanted a cat. Ever since you were little you adored cats. You grew up with them and it just always made you so happy to have them around.

Now you were an adult who shared a home with Shoto Todoroki, your husband. You had mentioned a few times how empty the house felt which led to Shoto explaining how he wasn’t ready for kids and might not ever be. Which for the record was a conversation you had already had and if you didn’t know how oblivious he was you might be offended that he was thinking you were trying to push him into having children.

“No, no Sho. That’s not what I meant.” You said, turning to face him in your shared bed. “I mean we should get a pet.”

“Oh.” He said you could tell he felt bad at assuming. “I’ve never had any pets.”

That didn’t surprise you, the more you had found out about his childhood the more you wanted to go slap Endeavor. Yes, he was trying to be a good father now but it didn’t erase what he had put his children through.

“It’s nice.” You told him, snuggling up to his warmer half. “They’re always there to greet you when you come home. I don’t know I just like the idea of knowing that someone’s getting used out of the house even when we’re gone all day.”

Shoto had a thoughtful look on his face which told you he was considering the idea.

“Not to mention there are so many animals out there that have been hurt and abandoned and don’t have any home.” You explained. “It makes me sad to know they’re out there without any love. It feels good to take in a pet and give it the love and safety it never had.”

“I’m starting to understand why you started dating me.” Shoto’s unexpected jokes always caught you off guard no matter how many times he cracked them. You nearly choked on your own spit.

“Not even.” You bumped him playfully with your shoulder. “I only dated you for your dashing good looks.” You smiled at him, brushing your hand through his hair. He gave you a small smile.

“I like the idea but I don’t think we’re home enough to have a dog. Don’t they need lots of attention.” He questioned.

“Yeah, I was thinking of a cat. They like attention but they also like their space. I grew up with them, I know how to take care of them.” You told him.

“Okay. We can go look tomorrow.” He offered.

“Really?!” You sat up looking at your husband with excitement.

“Yeah.” He said.

“I’m so excited, Sho!” You said before diving in for a kiss.

Walking into the animal shelter you felt like a child buzzing with excitement. You were most likely going home with a new family member today, your first cat as an adult, and Shoto’s first pet ever. You couldn’t wait.

Holding hands you walked through the different enclosures with different cats. At the front they had a bunch of kitten’s together, you couldn’t help but stare at how cute they were as they tumbled around played.

“They’re really cute,” Shoto said as he watched them with you.

“They are but kittens are a lot of work and they usually find homes pretty easy. I was thinking we could get an older cat. They need time to adjust but they’re calmer and don’t always find homes.”

“That makes sense.” He said as you walked further down the hallway.

There were plenty of older cats in different colors and sizes. You both stopped to look at each one you passed looking for something to draw you to one of them.

You stopped at one cage, looking at the cat that was currently curled up in the corner looking defensive. It was a scruffy white cat that had a scar over its eye as well as an ear with a piece of it missing. It looked scared.

Instantly you felt attached to the cat.

“Oh that’s one of our newer cats, he’s had a pretty rough life. He’s gonna need a lot of love, that one.” A volunteer mentioned when they saw them looking at the cat. “The previous owner was very abusive, he doesn’t seem to like men.”

“Can we see it?” Shouto said, surprising you. It seemed you were on the same page.

“Normally we’d take you to the rooms we have so people can visit with the cat but in his case, it’d probably be better to take you to him.” They said, leading them to a door.

They took you and Shouto to the other side where you could open the enclosures they had for the cats. They opened the door and let you enter, giving you some treats for the cat.

“Hey there.” You said, kneeling down. Shouto followed your lead.

The cat stared at you nervously.

“It’s okay, do you want a treat?” You said, reaching out and placing a treat in front of it.

He stared at you waiting for you to pull your hand away before it hesitantly leaned forward and ate the treat. It looked less nervous but still wasn’t trusting.

You both spent a few minutes with the cat, slowly feeding it the treats and talking to it. Shouto watched quietly.

Once you were out of treats you went back to the hallway to look at more of the cats. Every cat you saw after you couldn’t help but think back to the scruffy white cat.

When you walked back down the hallway you passed the white cat, pausing to look at it. When it’s blue eyes caught sight of you it left the corner approaching you through the glass that separated you both.

“Sho.” You cooed.

“I want that one.” He replied. You looked over, he hadn’t made any comments about which cat he was interested in yet.

“It won’t be an easy first cat for you, it’ll take time to earn its trust and for him to be comfortable around people, especially men.” You told him. As much as you wanted to help that cat you didn’t want Shouto’s first experience with a pet to be said pet hating him.

“You’re good with cats, you can help him. He deserves to have someone who will be patient and help him. What if no one else will?” He said. “And I can see how much you already love him.”

You smiled at Shouto, eyes tearing up just a little.

“Have I ever told you you’re too good for this world.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in close.

You both went to the front counter and explained which cat you wanted. The volunteers were very helpful, giving some tips to help them make sure he would be as comfortable as possible in his new home.

While they got the cat ready to be sent home, you and Shouto ran to the pet store to pick up everything you would need for your new member of the family. It warmed your heart watching Shouto thoughtfully pick out which toy he thought the cat would like most or what treat flavor he would prefer. Shouto ended up throwing a bunch of variations of everything into the cart saying that he could try them all and decide.

You returned to the animal shelter with a nice carrier for your new cat, handing it over to the workers so they could retrieve him.

Driving home you could tell he was nervous even if he was quietly sitting in the carrier. The carrier sat on your lap as Shouto drove. You softly spoke to him reassuring him that he was going somewhere safe.

“What should we name him?” Shouto asked.

“I’m not sure, the first name that came to mind was Shiro but that’s kind of on the nose.” You said.

“What about Azumi?” Shouto said. “It means safe residence. He’s safe now.”

“That’s really nice, Sho. I love it.” You told him.

Once he was home you did as the volunteers suggested, placing his carrier in the living room and shutting the doors to the rest of the house. You made sure the cat tree you bought was set up along with a cat hide. That let him have places to hide but kept him from disappearing into the house.

They suggested placing the food out in the open and staying in the room doing something quiet and keeping treats with you.

You and Shouto sat on the couch, cuddled together watching TV on a low volume. When you let Azumi out he was quick to hide away in the little cat house provided. It was hard not to stare waiting for him to peek out but you tried your best to act natural and move slowly about the house.

By the end of the night, he made his way slowly to his food bowl eating a little bit before returning to his safe space. That was a win in your book.

It took time, eventually, he was more comfortable being seen by you. He would perch on his cat tree or sit on the couch when no one was in the living room. You opened up more of the house to him as time went on.

The day that you were able to approach Azumi and pet him without him running away Shoto came home to find you crying. At first, he was concerned but once he realized that you weren’t hurt but crying because you were happy he calmed down.  

You were able to bond with the cat but Shoto struggled. It was hard not only because it was his first pet but because Azumi was scared of men. You helped Shoto but it still took time.

Shoto was so patient, he never became frustrated or upset. He didn’t even feel dejected when he found Azumi on your lap when he got home only for him to run off at the sight of Shoto.

You would often come home to Shoto sitting on the floor a few feet away from Azumi with his hand held out holding treats. Shoto would softly speak to him, talking to him about his day.

You already loved Shoto but the way he treated Azumi made you love him more.

It took a long time but one night you had been working late. You came in the door, putting your purse down and taking your coat off. You walked into the living room, the lights were low. Shoto laid on the couch asleep, a stray book had fallen out of his hand.

What made your heart stop was the sight of Azumi resting on Shoto’s chest fast asleep. Shoto’s hand was on top of the cat holding him gently.

It took everything you had not to cry. You snapped a photo before sitting down and watching them. You had a feeling that Azumi was going to be Shoto’s cat more than your own at this point. Shoto stirred in his sleep, eyes opening.

“You’re home.” He said with a soft smile.

“And you have a new friend.” You said.

Shoto sat up keeping Azumi cradled to his chest. The cat didn’t so much as flinch as he did.

“Can we get another cat?” Shoto asked. “I mean if Azumi doesn’t mind.”

“I’d love to.” You said, leaning towards him and pressing a kiss against his lips.

You had a feeling you’d be getting more than just one more cat.

[corvus--rex]

So, to start off with, these are a little rough. Mostly cleaned up for spelling/grammar, but there are things that are more like placeholder notes in exposition form that would be written out if I went back to it.

This one's working title is Quantum Fracture, is "in universe" non-canon compliant, and is set both near the end of s.2 after ep.9, and a few years post s.8. It's also only semi-abandoned. I like it and want to keep going with it, but I've hit a wall and just can't do anything with it right now. It has (sort-of) time travel and "Galra genetics are weird" resulting in Klance kids. It does also switch between times, but those sections have punctuation separators.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lance, Pidge, keep watch on the area. Keith, Hunk, and I will go down to check it out,” Shiro said over the comms.

“Got it.”

“Copy that.”

Green and Blue split off from the V-formation, flying over the asteroid while Black, Red, and Yellow landed on its surface. Lance and Pidge kept a visual track on their friends while keeping their scanners active for anything in the area. Team Voltron had been on their way back to the Castle after liberating another planet from the Galra Empire when Pidge’s more finely-tuned scanners picked up on what looked like an abandoned Galra base embedded in an asteroid. Shiro made the call to check it out and let Allura and Coran know what was going on, keeping Lance and Pidge on watch. The Black Paladin took point, with Keith right behind him. Hunk brought up the rear, man-portable cannon ready for whatever might try to sneak up on them. The facility was powered down, a layer of dust on every surface.

“Looks like it really is abandoned,” Keith said, “I don’t think there’s anyone or anything left here.”

“Agreed, but I want to complete a sweep of the facility. Never know what might have been left behind,” Shiro replied.

They continued on, not making any real effort at stealth, but only made it about another 20 feet before a side door creaked and flew open, Keith finding himself blown out into space, despite Hunk’s effort to prevent it. Keith tried to use his jetpack to redirect himself and head back to the facility, but there was just enough gravity generated by the density of the asteroid field to pull him toward the nearest surface. He bounced off the next asteroid, damaging his jetpack in the process. It sent him away from the asteroid field and into open space.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go, Keith thought as he floated in the void, then realized just how much Lance was rubbing off on him. His back hit a second, smaller asteroid, and he bounced off into the nothingness. Come on, Red. Where are you?

He felt the shift in the vacuum an instant before the sensors in his armor picked it up. The short chirp announced the sensors’ findings, bringing it up on the HUD. The display’s minimal capabilities showed the slight variant, a faint ripple in the fabric of space.

“The fuck is that?” he asked the void of space.

He hadn’t expected an answer, and didn’t get one. What he did get was the familiar mental pressure of the red Lion, immediately followed by the equally familiar golden glow of the robotic cat’s eyes. Red swallowed the paladin’s free-floating body, and he rolled through the slowly pressurizing corridor before the artificial gravity activated. He had only just taken his seat in the cockpit when he heard Pidge shouting across the comms.

“Keith! Are you ok? There was a spatial-temporal fluctuation right next to you.”

“Yeah, I felt it, but I'm ok,” he answered, exhausted from the mission and subsequent launch into space.

Green came up alongside Red, guiding them back to the Castle, Blue right behind them. Once the three Paladins were back aboard the Castle of Lions, Pidge insisted that Keith go to the medical deck, just in case.

“Ok, fine, Pidge. But I'm fine. Really,” Keith protested while simultaneously giving in.

She didn’t trust him to really go, but she was also concerned with the anomaly she found, so didn’t question it when Lance volunteered to make sure Keith went.

“Keith, what were you thinking?” Lance asked when they were alone.

“I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t anything I did and Hunk and Shiro will figure it out. Pidge is more worried about the space-time ripple we encountered. But I'm fine. Really.”

Blue’s Paladin stopped in the middle of the empty corridor. “You scared me, cuervo. I saw you get ejected into empty space without Red or any of us nearby. Pidge said she was going after you, but still…it scared me.”

“I don’t think we should hide anymore. I think it’s time to let the team in on our secret.”

The pair had been dating secretly for a month at that point, intentionally keeping their relationship from the rest of the team. Keith didn’t think they would have been taken seriously to begin with, and Lance agreed. After a late-night talk, they both decided to give it time and let themselves settle into their budding relationship. But it was beginning to make them behave differently, especially on missions. They became focused on where the other was and it was causing mistakes. This last mistake could have been deadly, although Keith was right, he hadn’t done or not done anything that led to the deserted Galra base’s small side door opening and pulling the Red Paladin into the cold vacuum of space.

“Yeah, I think you might be right,” Lance admitted.

Keith took his boyfriend’s hand, linking their fingers together, and headed toward the medical deck. Coran met them there, no doubt having been called by Pidge. Keith was thoroughly checked over by way of the Castle’s scanners, and as far as they could tell, not a molecule was out of place. After finding out that Keith was at least partly Galra, Pidge and Hunk had thrown themselves into a reprograming project to the medical deck’s scanners, integrating human biological standards. They were surprised to find that the scanners were already programmed with Galra standards, and that was when Coran told the entire team about the original Paladins, Zarkon included.

Instead of the lounge or one of their bedrooms, Lance and Keith instead went to one of the Castle’s many observation balconies. Once they were alone, Keith let himself crumble, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and holding on as tightly as he could. Lance gently returned the physical connection, understanding that the events of the morning had affected him more than he would let on in front of anyone else. He waited until he could feel the tension drain and knew that Keith was just sneaking middle of the day snuggling.

“You better now?” Lance asked.

Keith sighed softly against Lance’s neck. “Yeah, I think so. We should probably go see what Pidge found before anyone wonders where we went.”

“I don’t wanna,” he protested, holding on tighter.

Keith laughed and pulled away. “Well, if we stop keeping all this a secret, we won’t have to worry about where and when anymore.”

“Ugh. I guess.” Lance’s tone was overdramatic as usual, but his blue eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea of being open about his relationship.

Stepping backward out the door, Keith led the way toward the Lions’ hangars and Pidge’s lab. Halfway down the second to last corridor, Keith tripped over the smooth floor. He caught himself mid-stumble and stopped completely.

“Keith?” Lance asked, “Mi cuervo, you ok?”

_~*~_~*~_~*~_

“Keith! What the fuck was that?” Lance called over the comm.

“Dunno, but my speeder’s sensors caught it. Heading back now,” Keith answered from inside his modified speeder.

Modified, that was, by Pidge, who had retrofitted all of the Lions’ speeders to be able to fly in space. They were still fairly short-range, not capable of straying far from the Lions. It meant that Keith was still in visual range of Red when the Lion’s sensors spiked with the anomaly’s fluctuation.

Lance was waiting at the door to the cockpit when Keith came in. The tail of the raised French braid that normally ran halfway down his back was draped over his shoulder. Lance had insisted on braiding his husband’s hair that morning. Keith had groaned and asked why, seeing as it was just a simple recon mission. “Because you’re pretty, the twins are at school, we have time, and I felt like it,” was the list of reasons Lance rattled off as he made Keith sit. He didn’t mind it, but they usually saved more complex braids for diplomatic missions, not “drive down the street for space readings” missions.

Keith had had his second puberty while in the Quantum Abyss with Krolia, and it ended up being a good thing she was there. Alone, he would have assumed that the abdominal cramping, chills, fever, nausea, and full-body pain meant that he was dying. Krolia, however, recognized the symptoms of the shift in her son’s body to that of a Carrier and becoming physically capable of conceiving and carrying a baby. She told him that his half-human status may well have rendered him infertile, but they didn’t have the resources to look into it at the time, and the middle of a war wasn’t the time to worry about it. So it surprised both Keith and Lance when he found himself pregnant not long after the war ended, and they welcomed their twins Andra and Ori five and a half months later after a normal Galra-length pregnancy. The twins birth records had their names down as Andromeda Artemis and Orion Fenris Kogane-McClain, names that were called with increasing frequency now that the twins were five.

Keith sat himself in the pilot’s seat, pulling up the sensor readings from both Red and the speeder. They looked the same to both himself and Lance, but Pidge would be able to make better sense of them. But something about the anomaly was bothering Keith. It took a good minute of staring at the readings to realize that it was similar to how spacetime behaved near the core of the Quantum Abyss. And something about thatbothered him even more.

“You ok, cuervo?” Lance asked, leaning against the edge of the display panel.

“Yeah,” Keith sighed, “Just something about that anomaly reminds me of the Quantum Abyss. We’ll get it to Pidge and figure it out.”

The trip back to the new Castle was short, Red bypassing the reconfigured IGF-Atlas and heading directly for his hangar on the original Castle of Lions. After the end of the Galra War and the brief, but intense, war with Honerva, the Voltron Coalition needed a permanent – and mobile – base. The Atlas reshaped itself, wrapping around the Castle like the defensive walls of an ancient castle around its keep. Its completed size rivaled that of Galra Central Command, now the seat of the newly-formed Galra Collective.

Team Voltron’s power couple – beating out Shiro’s marriage to Adam – crossed the distance to Green’s hangar, where Pidge still maintained her personal lab. They found her buried in her multi-screen setup, one screen dedicated to the call she was on with her long-distance Olkari girlfriend Malyn, the others covered in technical readouts, diagrams, and blueprints.

“We’re back,” Keith announced when they walked in.

“Oh good. Anything weird happen out there?” Pidge said, taking Keith’s comm.

“The anomaly is behaving like the core of the Quantum Abyss.”

Pidge shoved the device into her computer a little harder than she intended. Except for her ongoing call, she wiped everything off the other screens, replacing what was on them with the readouts from both Red and the speeder. Her amber eyes flicked from screen to screen, already analyzing.

“I’m really sorry, Malyn. I have to call you later.”

“Of course. Is everything all right?” Malyn asked, concern laced in her voice.

“I’m not sure yet. We found a spatial-temporal anomaly, but it’s behaving differently from anything similar I’ve seen. Maybe…there was one…nah, that was different…”

Malyn laughed, she always found her girlfriend’s analytical mind adorable. “I’ll let you get to that. We’ll talk later.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm sorry, Malyn. We’ll talk again later, promise,” Pidge apologized again, but Malyn waved her off, still laughing, and cut the call.

“So, you'll let us know when you’ve found something?” Lance prompted.

“What? Yeah. Right. This is weirder than anything I've ever seen like this…”

Lance and Keith shared a look, knowing that Pidge was fully invested in the data and that she wouldn’t leave her computer unless she was physically removed. Deciding on the tactical retreat, they left her to it, heading back to their apartment on the Castle.

The Atlas hadn’t been the only thing to be reconfigured. The Castle of Lions had undergone its own renovations, the old single rooms turned into apartment-like suites. Shiro and Adam maintained Garrison positions onboard the Atlas, but retired to the Castle at the end of every day. Lance and Keith settled into their apartment after their two month long honeymoon. Hunk was splitting his time between the Castle and Balmera, sharing his space with Shay when they were there. Pidge mostly used hers as an excuse for more tech and a separate workspace, but Malyn stayed there with her when she could get time away from rebuilding Olkarion under Ryner’s guidance. Coran had decided to keep his old room the way it was, and Allura felt that her own rooms didn’t need the upgrade. The rest of the rooms stayed the same for the new Altean crew running the ship at a proper capacity.

It wasn’t until they got back that Keith realized Pidge still had his comm. “Well, shit. I’ll be back,” he said, heading for the door.

Lance decided to follow him out into the corridor.

“Why?”

“Because,” Lance answered, “I have nothing better to do and I can watch you walk away all day.”

“What the fuck, Lance?” Keith groaned in mock frustration.

“No, that’s after we get your comm.”

Keith turned, intending to call Lance out on exposing him like that, but stumbled, relieved that Lance was close enough to catch him.

“You alright, cuervo?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just tripped,” he said, but stopped. Something was wrong. He could feel the braid hanging over his shoulder from when he stumbled, felt the strength in Lance’s arms. No, this was wrong. He looked up. There was a small scar he didn’t remember being there, and the blue Altean marks were definitely new. His own body felt foreign. It was shaped differently, taller and broader than it should be. His voice was different, a little deeper, a little huskier than it should be. “Lance?”

“Keith, love, are you really ok?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Lance helped him to stand, leading him back to their apartment. Once inside, he sat Keith on the couch. “What happened? Exactly,” he asked.

“What does – is this about the anomaly? I told you before that I'm fine. We had Coran check me out. There was nothing wrong. Where are we anyway?”

“We didn’t have Coran check you out. There’s an entire medical crew for that anyway. We’re home, on the Castle. What do you remember from this morning?” Lance’s entire tone was cautious. Something was very wrong with his husband, but he wanted to have at least some answers before bringing it up with anyone else.

“We were coming back from a mission and stopped to check out an abandoned Galra base in an asteroid field. One of the side doors opened and I got blown out. There was a ripple in space-time, and I got close to it in nothing but my armor before Red came to get me. But I'm fine. I told both you and Pidge that.”

Lance remembered that mission. Overall, it was unremarkable. The base didn’t have anything useful. But there hadn’t been any temporal fluctuations. Yes, Keith had ended up floating through the void, but nothing happened other than that. The only reason he remembered that mission in particular was because that was when they decided to tell the team that they were together. It had been ten years since that mission.

“Ok. I do remember that. But, that was ten years ago. That was when we decided to tell the team that we’d been dating for a month.”

Keith’s face flickered between shock, bewilderment, and terror. Ten years? There was no way that could be right. But the evidence was right there. His own body and voice were different. He could see and feel how long his hair had gotten. And then there was Lance. He was beautiful as ever, and it certainly seemed that they were still together, but he was different. The scar, the Altean marks – how and when the fuck did that happen, and why? – and there was the fact that he was broader, more muscled, not slender and willowy like he had been. He processed everything in real time, not saying a word in that time. It had apparently been longer than he thought, because Lance was looking up at him from where he’d tilted his head to the side.

“Keith? Mi cuervo? What is going on?”

“You…you still call me that? It really has been ten years?”

“This has to be related to that anomaly,” he muttered. “Yeah, it’s really been ten years. And, yeah, I do still call you that. A lot’s changed in ten years, but not that. Stay here. I need to show you something. It might help.” Lance stood, leaving the room for their bedroom, coming back in less than a minute. He extended his free hand, bringing Keith over to the table where they both sat. Lance placed a ring of smoothly twisted and woven silver metal and carved crystal that shifted between blood red, cobalt, and vibrant violet on the table between them. “Do you remember this?” he asked softly, “Do you remember when I gave you that?”

Keith stared at it like if he could untwist it mentally, he could remember what it was. But he couldn’t, because Lance had never given him anything like it. It was definitely something he could see Lance picking for him, but as far as Keith knew, he never had.

“No, I don’t,” he had to admit.

Lance sighed, a tinge of sadness to it. “Ok. Something happened with the temporal anomaly we found earlier and that Pidge is still analyzing. I know you’re really Keith, but I don’t think you're my Keith. What you said happened this morning happened ten years ago for me. We need to go check in with Pidge and see if she’s figured anything out yet.”

“Ok,” Keith agreed, rising to follow Lance, “I shouldn’t know anything else. Not yet. But at least I know we’re still together.”

“We certainly are,” Lance agreed, taking Keith’s hand, “We’ll figure this out. That anomaly might have fucked with your memories somehow, but we’ll figure it out.”

_~*~_~*~_~*~_

“Yeah, fine.” Keith stood on his own, suddenly realizing that they shouldn’t have been a corridor and a half away from Green’s hangar, they should have been close to their apartment in a completely different part of the castle. Everything seemed ever so slightly bigger, except for himself and Lance. His braid was gone, and he was wearing clothes he hadn’t seen in years. And Lance looked so young. This was the thin, wiry boy he’d fallen in love with more than ten years before. The one without the Altean marks he’d gotten when Allura revived him after saving her from an energy blast. But he heard Lance call him by that familiar pet name. That alone left Keith with more questions.

“We need to see if Pidge’s gotten anywhere with that anomaly,” Lance said.

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. When had his voice gotten higher?

Keith stopped when they walked into Pidge’s lab. It wasn’t what he was expecting. This was the lab of a decade earlier. The one with the laptop she’d brought from Earth along with the equipment she had either repurposed or built from scratch. It startled him, and he froze in place.

“Keith, seriously, are you ok?”

“I…I don’t know anymore. Everything is wrong. Where is everyone else?”

“Hunk and Shiro are heading back from the abandoned base now. That door just malfunctioned after going so long without maintenance. And there was absolutely nothing important there,” Pidge answered, still focused on her computer screen. She realized part of what he said and turned around. “Wait, what do you mean ‘everything is wrong’?”

“You’re looking at a spatial-temporal anomaly, but it didn’t happen now. There shouldn’t have been one here. I…I think I might be from your future. Or, at least, sort of. I don’t look any different to you, do I?”

“No. You don’t. Get back to the part where you think you're from the future.”

“I don’t know how much I should tell you. I don’t know if it could upset the timeline. But I know when I am now.” He turned to Lance. “It’s been about a month now, right? And we had that talk?”

Lance nodded, trying to understand just what his boyfriend was saying about the future. “Yeah, and we did talk about it. Just a few minutes ago. But if you're from the future, I don’t know if talking about that now will help. It also doesn’t answer the question of if you’re Future Keith, what happened to Present Keith?”

“I don’t know. Best case, he switched places with me. He’ll be confused and probably a little scared, but I know he’s in good hands there. Fuck it feels weird talking about myself in the third person. Have you found out anything about the anomaly here?” he asked Pidge.

“Well, I think so, but I've never seen anything like this before.”

Keith came up behind her, looking over their temporal disruption. It was identical to the one he’d found in his time. He had no question now that he had switched bodies with his 18-year-old self. But at least there were a few things he didn’t need to worry about hiding. He knew he was at least partly Galra at this point. He wouldn’t meet Krolia for a little while, so he would have to keep that one to himself. But it also meant that he hadn’t been through the Quantum Abyss yet. There was no way he could tell them about that without explaining everything. He would have to be subtle with asking about the war.

“I have, but I can’t tell you anything specific. Like where, why, or how. And even knowing what it is, I don’t have your science brain, Pidgey. I have no idea how it works.”

Both Pidge and Lance were staring at him. Not because of what he said, but how he said it. He’d picked up a lot of linguistic quirks from Lance over the years, and no longer gave it any thought at all.

“You sound like Lance,” Pidge said finally.

“We’ve all spent a lot of time together over ten years,” Keith replied, avoiding the real question.

“Sure. What canyou tell me about this?”

Keith pulled Hunk’s usual seat over, sitting beside her. Lance perched on an empty spot of desk space, suddenly wanting to be closer to his boyfriend, or whatever he was at that point.

“It’s specific to a single point in space, but not this one. But that’s the problem. I can’t tell you anything about where it is or what it is because you haven’t gotten there yet. All I can say is that space and time work very differently there due to massive fluctuations in gravity, which is why this doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because there’s something there that affects the gravity in a way that it doesn’t where we found it.”

“Basically. It’s more like what affects gravity there doesn’t exist anywhere else, especially where this anomaly was found. It’s also far smaller here than it should be. Like the difference in scorch marks between Lance’s rifle and Hunk’s autocannon.”

“So, this anomaly is a precise shot, and where it should be is a huge mess,” Lance said.

“Pretty much,” Keith agreed, “But I really can’t tell you about it because there’s something vital to the war there and I don’t know how it would change things if you found out about it now. It wouldn’t be good. There are other players you don’t know about yet.”

Pidge continued typing away at her laptop, the 3D render of the anomaly rotating on the screen. Lance wanted to watch the progress, but he couldn’t focus on it. His attention was solely on Keith. Except for his earlier phrasing, he didn’t think Pidge had picked up on just how different he was. Body language, mannerisms, almost everything had changed in some way except for his physical appearance. And there was one thing Lance had noticed almost immediately after Keith started talking about the anomaly. He was pretty sure Keith wasn’t aware of it, but he had been running his left thumb across the ring finger of the same hand, like there was something missing. Lance thought about bringing it up, but decided not to, heavily suspecting Keith would just say that it was something else he couldn’t talk about.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[wreckofawriter]

Smelling Sweet

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word Count: 1,693

Warnings: None

Request: Can you do 8 with Fred Weasley x Reader? (And use someone other than George to make Fred confused?) lol

#8: "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

A/n: This one was fun to write, feel free to request more!

The truth was you couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. You had never been more excited to get to school. You haven't seen your best friend all summer. He had gone to America to see his grandparents, so you were waiting to see him. The two of you had been inseparable since you met 1st year and not being with him for months was quite difficult.

You glanced around platform 9 ¾ anxiously. Where was he? You craned your head to see above the other faces with no luck. You groaned in frustration lugging your suitcase behind you. He had to be here somewhere. You heard your cat hiss behind you.

"Shut it Church." You murmured.trying to catch a glimpse of the boy you missed so dearly. You were about to give up when you caught a glance of his fiery red hair.

You shrieked with glee and ran towards him. When you were about 3 meters behind him you dropped your suitcase and jumped onto the boys back. "I've missed you so much!!" You yelled as you did so.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller, he also smelled different, less like his usual pine sent and more like sweets and chocolate.

Only when you heard a yell of surprise did you realize, this wasn't Blake.

You quickly removed your arms from their neck and leept off their back stumbling and almost falling before a hand wrapped around your wrist yanking you towards them before you fell.

So now you were face to face with an extremely attractive boy you recognized as one of the Weasley twins.

Your face washed a deep red as he smiled down at you.

"Hello." He said sweetly, god his voice was smooth.

"I-i’m so s-sorry" you managed to stutter out your face growing increasingly red, "Sorry, I thought you were someone else"

"My brother I'm guessing?" He smirked, making you flush impossibly more.

"U-uh no actually my friend." You stuttered out trying to get away from the striking boy a quickly as possible.

"Oh." He seemed surprised, "I'm Fred by the way."

"I'm really sorry Fred," you said trying not to stare at his deep brown eyes. He on the other hand was taking no such courtesy. His eyes were roaming over your body and he still hand grasped in his large one.

"It's no problem, we should do it again some time." He winked still with that intoxicating smirk plastered on his soft pink lips.

"U-u-uh" you felt your heart begin to beat faster as you tried to untangle your tongue.

"Cat got your tongue?" A voice behind you asked.

You spun around to face another Fred Weasley who was of course George.

"Shove off George." The older twin hissed at his reflection.

"What? I can't talk to the pretty girl?" George asked his brother over your head. And you swear you were the replica of a tomato.

Fred sighed and rolled his eyes he was about to open his mouth to say something when you saw your escape. You yelled startling both boys and sprinting towards a different red-headed boy.

"BLAKE!" You screeched as he dropped his trunks and opened his arms to engulf you in a hug. You smiled into his pine sent not seeing the ugly glare thrown your way or more specifically Blake's way, by a certain twin.

"Oh my god you have no idea!" You yelled filling your mouth with jelly slugs. "Stop laughing! It was really embarrassing." You said smiling while slapping his arm lightly.

Blake continued his laughter despite your protests. "You jumped on him!?" He squeaked out before doubling over in a fresh wave of laughter.

"Yeah, yeah i jumped on him." You said rolling your eyes playfully.

"Come on it's funny!" He giggled, snatching a chocolate frog from its case.

"It was so not! I jumped on him hugged him from behind and then he had to catch me because I almost fell jumping off him!" You yelled trying to be mad at him and failing when he spit out his chocolate frog in laughter.

When Blake finally pulled himself together, he asked, "I'm kinda mad you didn't recognize me."

You gasped, "That is not fair! You both have red hair!"

"So!" Blake was now playfully yelling q tooth grin plastered on his face, "he is way taller than me!"

"I thought you grew, but turns out you're still short!" Now you were laughing tears pricking at your eyes.

"How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me?" He asked searching though your pile of candy.

"Pretty quickly, he smells...," you paused, Blake had stopped looking through the pile of mostly wrappers and was now looking up at you an unreadable expression placed on his face.

"You were going to say better weren't you."

"What! No!" You gasped, "he just smelted different." You shrugged trying to hold back the blush on your face.

"Well what did he smell like?" He asked. You scoffed thinking he was joking but looking up at him he wasn't smiling or joking he was serious.

"Umm I don't know." You were definitely blushing now. Blake raised his eyebrows waiting for you continue.

"I guess he smelt sweet," you finished looking down at your box of Berries Every Flavored Beans placed in your lap. "like chocolate and candy." You finished your face hot.

"And what do I smell like?" He asked. Yous started laughing, then when he didn't join you looked back at him. "I'm serious."

"Oh, umm" you closed your eyes for a second envisioning Blake's scent. "I guess you smell like a forest, pine scent, like sap."

Blake paused for a moment, "Oh." And for the first time in years the two of you rested into an awkward silence.

You looked up at him trying to see what was different or restart the conversation but you were interrupted by a loud knock. Your head snapped to the glass door where you could see a pair of red headed twins standing there. You stood up opening the door.

"Hello?" You said in a questioning voice.

"Hi," the twin you were assuming was Fred smirked.

You waited for him to say more but no such thing happen, instead after a few seconds of Fred just looking at you, his brother stepped forward and explained,

"Sorry but we need a place to sit, we sort of pranked Crabbe and his Gyole so we needed to go somewhere they won't find us. Can we sit here?"

You paused for a second before saying, "I don't see why not."  You moved away from the doorway to see Blake glaring at the twins.

"Ahh, you must be the lucky bloke who she was planning on jumping on." Fred joked, you flashed bright red and Blake's hair began to match his face.

"I'm Blake Summers." He said sticking out his hand.

"Fred Weasley." Fred answered grabbing his hand and shaking it firmly, "and that's my brother George."

With that you all sat down in the cabin, Blake to your right and Fred across from you next to the window.

"So your from Ravenclaw right?" George asked.

"Yeah." Blake answered and with that the conversation went on.

For the rest of the ride the four of you talked of various topics from the new DADA teacher to pranks the twins have constructed. The whole time you could feel Fred's eyes locked on you. It was quite uncomfortable and you squirmed under his gaze.

Finally, the train came to a stop. You had by that time changed into your robes and was ready to leave. You grabbed your trunks and Church, who had been sleeping most of the ride. You all stood up, Blake and George who were in a deep argument about the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, exited while Blake was saying, "Come on, if we were allowed to use magic at any age a six year old would accidentally kill someone."

You were about to continue forward as well when a smooth hand incased your wrist a delicate yet firm hold.

You turned around and were face to face with those big brown eyes you had been trying to avoid for the past 2 hours. Now that they were straight in front of you, your knees went weak and you almost stumbled and fell. You face was washed with crimson and you gulped harshly trying to breath properly.

Fred saw what he did to you immediately, he bit the bottom of his lip to keep from laughing at your flustered form and it sure didn't help, he was unfairly handsome.

"Hi." He said his ginger hair falling in his face as he looked down at you.

"H-hi" you responded tightening the grip you had on your trunk and cat carrier.

"So I was wondering if you wanted to go to the first Hogsmeade trip with me?" He asked playing with the ends of his robes as he did.

You gasped a bit before nodding, "Sure." You told yourself to keep your cool as you answered the boy in front of you, when you really felt like whooping with joy.

His face lit up at your answer. "Really?!" He smiled.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" You questioned.

"I thought you like that Blake kid for a while and I got real scared"

"Oh no," you blushed, "Blake and I are just friends."

"Great, I'll see you later?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, see ya later." You said smiling. You turned to leave but before you could your wrist was caught again.

"Wait y/n" Fred stopped you whipping him to face him.

"What's up Fred?" You asked.

You were answered by his lips on yours. Your eyes widened in surprise before slipping shut and enjoying the feeling of his soft lips. You dropped your trunk and cat carrier with a protest from Church and brought your hands up to his neck as his found your waist. He tasted how he smelled; sweet.

When you finally broke away you gasped for air.

"Sorry." Fred smiled apologetically, "I just couldn't wait."

Masterlist

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Raiders of the Lost Arf || Layla and Kaden

TIMING: After Celeste’s death, Before the June Full Moon LOCATION: Animal shelter PARTIES: @laylacooke and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Layla comes to the shelter to adopt Indiana Bones and Kaden ends up helping a teen wolf.

It had taken Layla a lot of courage to return to Animal Control, especially knowing that Kaden knew exactly what she was. They had, after all, faced a poltergeist together. But all she could think about lately, aside from Celeste and the heartbreaking fate she ended up facing, was the small puppy she had fallen in love with the night she had first went to AC. With a deep breath and a new found courage, she stepped across the threshold only to be greeted by a smiling face, “Hi there! What can I help you with today?” The woman was kind, and it was refreshing to hear. The idea of encountering Kaden first hadn’t sat well with and had almost been the reason, she had not come in. “You guys have a puppy; Indy. I was wanting to start the adoption process for him.” A soft smile spread across her face, as her heart started to flutter in a good way knowing Indy would be coming home with her soon.

Kaden had a scared stray cat with him who he needed to drop off, one of the few normal moments in his job in a while. Earlier that day he had dealt with an amphisbaena that had gotten into someone’s home and then later he had to shoo a bonedoggle away from a trash compactor. Finding and helping a stray cat who might find a nice home was a welcome break. Even if the fucker had taken a couple swipes at him before Kaden could get it in the cat carrier. Cat safely left in a crate and ready to be treated by the vet and all the files squared away, he decided to take a few minutes to say hi to whoever was at the front desk, maybe see if any of the animals had been adopted recently, the nice fluffy part of his job. He didn’t expect to see a familiar redhead at the front desk. To be fair, he felt the chill down his spine before he saw her, he’d just pushed it aside temporarily. He should really turn and walk away, let the staff take care of this so he could get back to work. Didn’t feel right to just leave, though. “I’m assuming you’re here to pick up Indy?” he asked. It looked like the paperwork was complete or just about. “I can bring you back if you want. Do the whole double check, make sure it’s the right dog, procedure while they get you all squared away.”

Layla had been working on her paperwork, when the familiar scent had made its way through the building. Kaden. He was here. Memories of that night flashed through her mind, and she felt a phantom pain rush the stab wound that was now mostly just scabbed over; the last of the stitches Celeste had put in, coming out days prior. Pushing the paperwork over to the lady at the counter, she remained smiling, but that smile faltered a little when she saw him come out, “Yep. Told you I’d be back. Couldn’t leave the little guy here any longer.” She really didn’t want to be alone in a room with the man, but if it’s what she had to do to get the dog, then she would. “And sure. Lead the way.” She would follow him, reluctantly, when he was ready to take her back.

Kaden took her to the back right to where Indy’s cage was and the dog timidly got up to see who was there. One or two little sniffs in the air and he bounded over to the front of the cage to greet them. “Here he is,” he said. “Looks like he remembers you.” He smiled a little, almost forgetting the whole situation, what she was. Kaden wasn't entirely sure where whatever sympathy he felt for her came from, but it was there. That wasn't true, he knew a little. For one, it was hard not to feel a little empathy towards someone who loved animals as much as she clearly did. As much as he didn’t want to feel shit for a werewolf. But also their shared experience with hunter parents, the harsh life that comes with it; there was a reason it was so easy for him to find fast friends in just about any new town or city he went to, so long as there was a respite for hunters somewhere. Their backgrounds weren’t the same, surely, but close enough. Always was. “You have plans for him for the full moon?” he asked, looking back at the dog who seemed eager to say hello to both of them, but mostly Layla.

When they reached the cage, Layla kneeled down to greet Indy. There he was in all his small, fuzzy puppy glory. And she swore, she could see a smile on his little face. Sticking her fingers through the bars, she giggled as he licked them, “I’m so grateful he’s still here. I figured a little fella as cute as him would’ve gotten adopted much sooner.” She continued to play with him through the bars, until she heard Kaden’s question, “He’s staying with a friend. This dog will be nowhere near me when the full moon comes. If anything happened to him, because of what I am, I couldn’t live with myself.” She knew Indy could smell what she was, and maybe that’s why he was drawn to her so easily, but she would find a safe place for him days before the full moon.

“Well I made sure you had first choice, in case you decided to come back,” Kaden said plainly, like it was routine. “It was the least I could do after…” The poltergeist. He trailed off and looked around the place, remembering the state it had been in the last time the two of them were there and shuddered a little. “Good to hear. Also glad to hear you’re keeping others safe, too. You have that under control, right?” It was also good to hear she sounded reasonably responsible with her transformations, even if she was newer to them. “I’d worried about him feeling abandoned with you gone so soon after adopting him but he seems plenty attached. It should be fine.” He pulled out his keys and motioned for her to step away from the door a moment so he could open the door just enough to get through. “Did you bring your own collar and leash?” he asked as he pulled out  a slip lead and slowly placed it around the dog’s head.

She hadn’t expected that kindness from Kaden, but she had appreciated it, “Thank you. That actually means more than you know.” She listened to him trail off. Layla didn’t want to remember that night just as much as he had. And in fact, she was almost waiting for something to happen. Being there had kept her on edge, but knowing that Indy would be coming home with her made things easier, “Yeah, Ari’s sister…” She looked down. “I know where to go and how to chain myself up. And I’ll bring someone along with me that I trust.” Lies. She didn’t know anyone, besides Frankie, and she wasn’t exposing her girlfriend to that. “Trust me, I’ll want nothing more than to snuggle with the little guy when I get home.” She did as he requested. As she watched Kaden slip inside, her heart started racing with excitement. The one thing she hadn’t got to do was hold Indy. A collar and leash? Shit. “Uh, I didn’t know I was supposed to...My parents...they had hunting dogs, but they were bought from breeders, so…” She had hoped this wouldn’t discourage the chance at taking the puppy home with her.

“I said I would,” he said just as simply as before. Kaden may not have been a fan of fae type promise bounds but going back on his word wasn’t something he was fond of. His brow furrowed at the mention of Ari. “Her… You mean Celeste?” It shouldn’t have surprised him that the hunter would find another stray werewolf, especially the child of hunter parents with a story so closely linked to her own. She really thought she could save them all, huh? He shook his head and bit back the threat of emotions. “As long as you have it handled.” With Indy on the leash, he opened the door back up and walked out, the dog trotting right over to her and standing on his back legs, front paws climbing up her legs to get closer to her. “It’s fine, they have some up front. You just have to pay for them.” And if she didn’t have the twenty bucks, he had a feeling he might cover it at this point. Which surely made him an idiot, going out of his way to help a werewolf. That dog looked so happy to see her, though. It tugged on his stupid heartstrings. “My mother only tolerated hunting dogs. When our friends had them. I wasn’t allowed to have any pets. I got Abel to be a hunting dog. He’s a bit of a dud on that front.”

Layla had appreciated him keeping his word. However, when he mentioned Celeste’s name, she could only nod quietly. She still couldn’t wrap her head around things. Couldn’t even begin to imagine what Ari was going through. “I do.” It’s all she said on the matter of chaining herself up, and her mind easily shifted when she saw Indy come over begging for her to pick him up. A smile spreading across her face, she leaned down and picked up the small puppy. Bringing him up to her face, she was showered in kisses, which made her laugh. “I hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, little guy?” She returned the kisses, before lowering and cradling him in her arms. Kaden’s story had sounded similar to her’s. No matter how much she wanted a pet, her parents only allowed dogs that were strictly trained to attack and maim, “Same. Our dogs weren’t friendly. They had one job to do, and one job only.” She raised a hand up to show Kaden a scar from when she was a child, “It was my job to feed them, when I got old enough.”

“She was a good friend.” Kaden wasn’t sure what else to say. Surely Layla and her had bonded over their parents and the shitty situation they were in. He wanted to ask if she’d helped Layla. Or had offered to. But it sounded like she had it covered. He also wasn't sure how much he wanted to unload his feelings here and now. Or with her. Still, there was this tenuous connection he knew he shared with a werewolf by virtue of having both grown up with hunter parents. It was hard to wrap his head around. It was also hard for him to be fully comfortable with a werewolf owning a dog this close to the full moon. But if he turned a blind eye to what she was, pretended he could make an exception, maybe it would be okay. She was more prepared than most turned wolves anyway. It’d be fine. “Sounds about right. God forbid you keep anything that doesn’t serve a fucking purpose. At least so long as it serves no purpose for hunting.” Kaden hadn’t felt much resentment towards his parents in the past, not like this. He always understood where they came from, even if it was tough and hard and a little unforgiving at times. That was just the life they led. It was getting harder and harder to justify. Fucking hated that.

“She was.” She had tried to give herself time to mourn and grieve Celeste, but so much had been going on, and now, she was going to have this little guy to keep her company. The way he was licking her on the arm tickled and it made her smile. A smile she couldn’t let go of now that she was holding onto something that loved her so unconditionally and couldn’t judge her for the things she’d done. His words brought her back to the moment, “Right? Everything had to serve a purpose. That’s why my mother started me in archery so soon and in self-defense lessons. She wanted to make the perfect killing machine.” She looked back down to the small puppy and spoke in a higher pitched voice, “But it didn’t happen. No, it didn’t.” At least not in the way her parents had wanted. Layla looked back up at Kaden, “Kinda funny you ended up in Animal Control though. I mean, in the sense that you get to be around puppies and kittens all the time now that serve purposes in different ways. Kinder ways.”

“Did she help you?” Fuck. Kaden wished he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to have to think about Celeste right now, not in public. Or care anymore about Layla. Or share anything more with her. He just wanted to do his job and give this dog a home and move on. “I mean I always liked animals. I just wasn’t really allowed to waste my time with them when there were monsters to learn about. As my parents put it.” His mother never let him get the Images Doc’s, French kid’s educational magazines, with the animals on the cover when he saw them in the grocery store. He constantly stole them from the stores, libraries and other kids, anywhere he could get his hands on them. He was shocked how rarely he got in trouble for doing it. Usually just got a look of pity from the adults in question, ire from his mother when she caught him. The flames still flickered in his mind when he remembered what happened when she found his stack one time. He pushed the thought away and led her and Indy to the front. “I’ve got the fee, Sarah,” he said to the woman at the front desk. “And going to need a collar and leash.”

Layla hadn’t expected to hear his question, and it had somewhat caught her off guard, but she answered anyways, “Um, yeah. She did. She was the one that stitched me up after, uh...after the stuff that happened here.” She didn’t want to further divulge anything, but she could tell in his voice that he was hurting too, “She was a good person, Kaden.” She bit her bottom lip and looked down at Indy, before letting the animal take her worries away once more, “Sounds about right, except I was kinda rebellious in certain ways. But they always made sure I paid for it.” Her smile faltered thinking about some of the things her parents had done to her, but she was relieved when Kaden took the lead and invited them to the front of the building. Following behind, she was surprised to hear he was offering to pay the fees for her, “Hey, thanks. I know I’m not your favorite person, but I’ll never let anything happen to him, okay?” She pulled Indy up for a kiss on his little, white and tanned head, “And we can talk anytime you want. I am a pretty good listener.” She walked to the counter to finish up what she needed to in order to take Indy home.

“I know.” There was no denying Celeste was better than he was, he knew as much. Kaden nodded and tried to ignore the worry that threatened to push its way through. If Celeste usually helped Layla, who would do it now? No, that wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem. Sure, she was just a teenager and the daughter of hunters, but she was still a werewolf at the end of the day. He had to temper his empathy. Just in case he had to make a decision down the line. Not that she made that easy. “I know that, too.” This wasn’t for her, it was for the dog. Obviously. That dog had found his person and he was obligated to make sure he got to go home with her. That was all he was doing. Nothing more. Plus she didn’t deserve the shit his mother put her through. She might be a monster but that still wasn’t right. Or something. “Don’t mention it. Just take care of him. I’m sure you will.” Kaden nodded and walked away, leaving the staff there to take care of the rest. He had to get back to doing his job, anyway. Hopefully he never had to run into her during his night shifts. He had a feeling it wouldn’t end this well.

[breg21]

My Baby, Your Baby...Our Baby?

This is for @buginetta  

A couple months back she had posted a little snippet where Adrien and Marinette have to take home a baby from school for a project, which leads to a reveal. I asked if I could make a one shot out of it, and here we are!

Sorry, that it took so long! It’s been collecting dust in my google drive for a while.

This takes place shortly after Gladiator. I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 Fanfiction

Being on time for class was a rare oddity that Marinette was hardly blessed with. So she understood Alya's shocked gaze as she took her seat next to her best friend, ten minutes before class.

Alya's eyes were glued to her best friend. "Girl, what happened? How are you actually on time for once?"

Marinette's mind combed through for excuse to give. "Uh... my manman woke me up super early. She really wants me to start coming to school on time, you know?"

The truth was that there had been an early akunma at 6:45 in the morning. By the time she and Chat were finished, she figured it was too late to fall back into bed. The akuma had been a particularly nasty one and took a while to defeat. She was lucky she had made it to school at all. She was so exhausted.

But hey, she'd be able to see Adrien at least. That right there brightened her mood for the day entirely. Slouching back into her seat to relax for a couple minutes before class started, Marinette couldn't help the love sick gaze that crossed over her eyes at the sight of Adrien's head— well, the back of it, but still.

"Alright, class." Ms. Bustier clapped her hands together to draw their attention to her. "Today, we're starting a new project, and I need everyone's undivided attention. We have a lot to cover and it'd be best to jump right in."

Everyone reluctantly turned their eyes to their teachers, causing her to smile wide. "Great. Today, or rather, for this full weekend, you'll be taking home an electric baby to take care of. And yes, before you ask, you will be partnered. I already have everyone paired up."

Everyone groaned in annoyance.

But as her classmates seemed upset by the thought of bringing home a baby, Marinette couldn't help but bounce with joy in her seat at the thought that maybe, just maybe she could be paired with Adrien.

The teacher grabbed her grading tablet, finding the names easily and began to list them off.

"Sabrina and Chloe."

Please.

"Ivan and Mylene."

Oh, please let her have this.

"Alix and Kim."

If she had any of Tikki's luck rubbed off on her, please let it be this.

"Rose and Juleka."

Just, please.

"Nino and Alya."

She only wanted this one thing to go right.

"Adrien and Marinette."

Just as she was about to bolt up out of her seat to shout out in excitement, Alya— being the good friend that she was— wrapped her hands around her waist and mouth, keeping Marinette from embarrassing herself from shouting out in joy.

The rest of Ms. Bustiers words were drowned out by Marinette's imagination running wild. They were gonna have a baby together! Albite— not a real one, but still! This was a step, then maybe they'd start dating and fall in love and get married and have three kids, a dog, maybe a cat and a hamster named-

"Girl!"

Marinette bolted up straight at her nickname. Turning to face Alya, she glared at her best friend's sly smirk. "The teacher said to go move next to your partner." She emphasized the word as her eyes landed on Adrien, who was staring at her with a soft smile.

She blushed at the word partner. They'd be together for an entire weekend. Just her, him, and the baby.

But wait. What would she do if an Akuma attacked? How would she get away? And it wouldn't be fair to Adrien if she just disappeared out of nowhere to be left with the baby.

Oh, no. This was going to be a disaster, disaster, disaster…..

She was suddenly pushed halfway out of the chair by her friend, telling her to "move it, already."

Scowling at Alya, Marinette gathered her bag and bolted from her seat moving to sit next Adrien, excitement flooding her entire being as she tried to contain any quivering her legs wanted to do at that particular moment.

"Hey, Marinette. How're you?" The soft smile he gave her was so adorable and easy. "You excited for the project?"

I'm excited to be by you.

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she tried to prevent the stumbling of her words, but her tongue wouldn't corporate. "Yesh-yea….yes. I mean, yes. I'm definitely ready for the project."

Oh, this weekend was gonna be hard.

The grin he threw her made the thumping in her heart escalate. "Great. If you don't mind, maybe we should do Friday until Saturday at my place, and then Sunday until Monday at yours? If that works with you, of course."

What was her name again? "Few fure? I-I mean, you s-sure? That me good with...I uh.. Uh." She breathed through her stutter. "Tha-that sounds good to m-me."

That smile was gonna be the death of her. She swore it. "Awesome. I'll make sure that my bodyguard knows." He quickly shot off a text to whom she assumed, was said bodyguard.

Oh, if this was a dream, she didn't ever want to wake up.

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

The babies were handed out within minutes. Electrical dolls that look creepily similar to a baby when seen from afar, but up close just looked wrong.

"So, what should we name her?"

She looked up at Adrien, who was holding out the fake birth certificate, ready to write down the name of the unborn child. Would it be weird if she used the name that she planned for their actual child? Worth the risk. "Um… Emma?"

If she hadn't been so close, she would've missed the jolt that ran through his spine at the mention of the name, and she immediately knew why.

It was his mother's name.

In all honesty, that was why she had chosen the name in the first place. She knew how much his mother meant to him, and she thought the name was beautiful all on its own, so why not?

He cleared his throat as he began scribbling the name down. "That's… a nice name. It was my mother's, well, Emilie, actually. But, yeah."

Warning bells started ringing in her head as she realized what a mistake it might've been to go for that name. "I'm sorry! I didn't think.. We d-don't ha-"

He chuckled softly. "Marinette, it's okay. I like it. You're all good."

She sighed internally. "O-okay. Sorry."

He took Emma and started to buckle her up in the car seat. "No worries. Now, let's figure out how to snap her into this. I've actually never used a car seat before."

It was easy enough, thankfully, and soon they were ready to go just as the limo pulled up. Marinette had to remind herself to breathe. That she could do this. When her uncle visited the one time for the competition, she talked to him normally the whole day right before he got akumatized, she could do it now, too.

She could.

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

Maybe she couldn't.

But she was still trying as she left the limo with the baby carrier in hand. Adrien had opened her door— how was he so sweet— and then guided her into his overly large house.

They were soon the in the foyer, meeting his father who stood at the top of the staircase, hands clasped behind his back; Eyes stone cold as he just stared at the two teens. "Nahitle has informed me of your assignment with this pretend baby. I've had her clear your schedule for the duration. But understand that this is a one-time thing, and your schedule will return to normal once this is over."

He left without another word. Marinette felt absolute hallow at the man's presence, but looking to Adrien, she could tell that he was used to his stand-offish behavior and had grown accustomed to such.

That honestly broke a little part of her heart inside. No one deserved that kind of coldness from a parent.

But the smile he forced for his father turned real when he went to look at her. "Sorry about my father. He can be… brash at times."

She offered a sweet grin of her own, wanting to give him reassurance that she wasn't brought down by his father. "I-it's okay, Adrien. I don't scare too easily."

He laughed, and reached for the baby carrier to take into his own hands. "Just around me, right?" He teased and before she could even blink, let alone defend the statement, he shook whatever thoughts had clouded his head and apologized as he realized what he had said. "I mean, uh, actually-"

She blushed, but was quick to wave him off, letting him know that she knew it was all in play and that she didn't mind him one bit teasing her a little. "You're good. Now, come on, we should probably settle Emma down in your room and wait for her to need something."

She felt so alive as she saw the sparks of joy light up and grew into a tame fire within the emeralds of his eyes.

She also felt alive when he grabbed her hand— their hands were touching, actual skin to skin contact, and oh it felt so unbelievably nice— and pulled up the staircase and to his room. His hand was soft and warm, and calmed her heart and made it race at the exact same time with sparks that ignited on her skin at his touch.

She was never gonna wash this hand again.

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

The first hour went by pretty smoothly actually. Emma had only wanted to be fed once, which Adrien had insisted he took the first duty. It took some convincing, but she agreed eventually. The baby was quiet within minutes of being fed and having a bottle to its mouth.

Everything went haywire in her mind at how caring he was holding Emma.

Now, hours later, Marinette had changed Emma once, Adrien once, and they both took turns with rocking her every other time when she cried for attention. With night falling over the city, and the baby making soft cooing noises, Adrien and Marinette had put in a movie at random and were sprawled out on the couch as the characters on the screen were mutually pinning over each other while the other didn't have any idea.

"Hey, Marinette?"

She was jolted out of her movie consumed mind to see Adrien watching her with blatant curiosity and weary.

She moved to reach for the remote, pausing the movie and sat upright to give him her full attention, blue locked on green, as she tried to keep herself steady and grounded in her thoughts. Because she just couldn't get lost in those beautiful green eyes when he seemed to need to ask her a serious question.

She just couldn't. Did he know what he did to her?

She'd be lost for hours, with very little way to get back.

Clearing the back of her throat, she asked, "Yeah?"

Adrien seemed to be double thinking his question, as if he was wondering if he should really be asking what he obviously really wanted to. He took a few deep breathes, trying to stay firm in whatever decision he had made. "Why are you so nervous around me?"

Oh.

Oh, her mind breathed, and her heart did a little tight squeeze along with it. Her face burned with heat that started to spread right underneath her skin and colored it fiery red.

But, instead of answering— and in the case that she was wrong as to why he was questioning her— she could only get out, "What?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, his face was anything but. "I'dunno. I just noticed that you sometimes are nervous around me and stutter and everything. I mean, I know we're friends, I don't think you hate me or anything. It's just I worry sometimes that I make you uncomfortable at times, maybe it's because of my dad? I just, I just wanna know if there's anything I could do to make you feel more at ease around me."

Of course, he would think about her like that, because that was just who he was. Her brain started up and running with the thought that this amazing, sweet, caring boy noticed her stutter and nervousness around him and was wondering just what happened that made her be like that around him.

This innocent boy was gonna be the death of her. She was sure of it.

She forced her courage forward as she took her bottom lip between her teeth. "That's not it, Adrien. You're right in the fact that you're my friend, but not for the reason I'm so nervous around you."

He looked confused, and she wanted to run her thumb out the wrinkle that had started to form between his brows to smooth it out. He scootched closer to her, their knees brushing lightly against each other. He took her hands into his and her brain almost exploded. "Then… then what is it? I really wanna know. Maybe I can help in some way?"

Her air decided to leave her then and there. Her body must've thought oxygen and breathing was irrelevant, because it was becoming harder and harder to breathe. What was she supposed to even say to that? How would she even start? Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire and she didn't know how to stop it or how to just-

"I have a crush on you."

Oh,

Oh no,

That was out loud.

Oh, dang. She definitely had not meant to say that out loud.

He jumped back as if he had been slapped by her sudden outburst— not by her actual words, she knew. Adrien would never be that cruel— as shock filled his face, face now turned to look out on the floor in front of him, but not actually looking at anything. "Oh."

She quickly backpedaled, "I'm so`sorry, Adrien. I hadn't meant for that to come out."

He gulped a few times before steadying himself. "It's...it's okay, Marnette. I just didn't know."

She gave a dry laugh. "Trust me, I know." He grimaced and she shot him an apologetic stare. "Sorry, everyone makes fun of how I'm so obvious with it."

He moved closer to her once more, patting her knee. "It's alright. I'm sorry I didn't know." He inhaled, and exhaled. "I should be completely open and honest with you. There's a.. ..girl that I work with that I really have strong feelings for." He swallowed. "And..and I've liked her for a long time now-"

Her smile was sad, but she tried. "Adrien, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

He stopped her, fierceness settled heavily in his tone. "No, I want you to understand, she's beautiful, and strong, and smart, so creative." She felt her heart drop, "But, Marinette, so are you. You're not any less than that. She rejected me recently. And a part of me still wants to try to win her over, but I don't know anymore."

She wanted him to know that she wasn't upset by his words. '"Adrien, I promise-"

"Marinette, please," His eyes were pleading, "Just let me finish what I need to say, okay?"

She nodded.

He seemed to be able to breathe again. "I care about her, I love her, but she's not interested, there's someone else that she likes. I don't think I could really do a relationship right at the moment, especially when my heads up in the air as to if I wanna try one last time, I also wouldn't want you to think you're the rebound girl or second choice. Because you deserve better than that. I need time. And I gotta be honest, even with that, I'll always love her, she'll always have a piece of my heart, I can't stop it, no matter how much I want.

But, I promise you, I'd never cheat on you. If we get together, one day, I'd give you my all, and, I-I'm honestly not sure wha-what that may all be, but you have to understand that a part of my heart does belong to someone else, and might always. And hopefully with time..."

She was the one to take his hands this time with a sincere smile, cutting off his babbling. "Adrien, sometimes honesty and a chance is enough. I'll give you space, well, after this weekend," She looked to the doll in the carrier. "And I'll let you figure out whatever you need to. I just appreciate you being open with me."

He began to rub little circles in the back of her hand. "Thanks, Marinette. It might be a while, and I hope no matter what, that we can remain friends. And for what it's worth, I'm really flattered that you like me. You really are amazing."

She smiled. "Of course we'd remain friends. And thank you."

She was pulled into a hug, and boy did she feel bliss being wrapped in a warm embrace with Adrien Agreste. It was more than any of her dreams could come up with, because it was actually real.

But, of course, as her luck would have it, that was when the baby decided to cry.

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

The weekend went by pretty fast after that.

Emma had her fussy times, that was for sure, but from what she heard with Nino and Alya, they didn't have it nearly as bad. Thank goodness. The other blessing was no Akuma attacks. That was the biggest relief.

They were now in her room, she at her desk as she held Emma in her arms and swiveled side to side in her chair to try to keep boredom at bay, while Adrien lounged on the chaise, swiping through his phone at whatever social media platform he was on.

She didn't know a project like this could get so boring.

The first night at his house, she woke them a total of only three times— each taking turns— and it wasn't too hard crawling out of bed to take care of her, she was pretty sure it had been harder on Adrien than her, seeing as she was the night owl between the two.

Speaking of beds, the thought brought a blush to cheeks, Adrien had insisted she take the bed while he took the couch. After several minutes of arguing like a married couple— shut up brain— he relented, and had suggested that they should both just take the bed.

One could only imagine what that did to her. How her heart had pounded in her ears, and her stuttering had gone from fifty to a hundred real fast. It took everything in her just to agree.

And when they woke up cuddling each other, well, that was a whole other situation for later. But what she would say, is that it consisted of two, blushing teens, and trying to apologize a million times to the other.

"Marinette, are you okay?"

She was brought out of her thoughts at the model's voice. She blinked a few times. "Huh, uh, yeah. Sorry, lost in thought."

A warm smile slipped on his lips and melted away the worry that had been wavering in his eyes. "Okay. Do you need me to take Emma?"

She nodded. "Sure." that would give her the time to be able to take a shower, something she hadn't been able to do since getting Emma, seeing as she was too afraid to leave the baby's side. Even though she trusted Adrien with her life, it was still a scary thought. "I really need to take a shower anyways."

Was this how motherhood was always like? If so, she was in for a long haul.

Leaving her chair, she walked the short distance and placed the baby in Adrien's arms, making sure the head was secure before all else.

Once tucked safely into her daddy's arms, Emma continued to make little cooing sounds as if she was the most content baby to ever be. "Thanks, Adrien."

"No problem, she's my responsibility, too."

Marinette quickly ran to grab a towel before going to the bathroom and locking the door behind her as she always did.

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

He had Emma lying on his chest when he heard it.

The boom and screams of an akuma.

Of course, just when Adrien had thought they were gonna get a break from the stupid butterflies.

Grabbing Emma, he went to her carseat, and buckled her in, making sure she was secured before going downstairs to the bathroom door and knocking. "Marinette, there's an akuma on the loose, and my father is demanding that I come home."

He heard a soft sigh before she answered, "Okay. Make sure you get there safe."

He breathed in relief. "Thanks, Marinette. I'll make it up to you by covering the whole night shift."

He scurried away before she could say anything else.

He found an alleyway close by to transform, and quickly went into the heat of the battle, hoping that Ladybug would get there soon so he could get back to Marinette and the baby.

It was a weird thought, but definitely not an unpleasant one.

Marinette realized her mistake the moment she stepped out.

She was left alone with the baby. A baby that only she and Adrien could calm with the bracelets that were wrapped around their wrists.

This… this was not good.

"Tikki!"

The little creature fluttered out from her hiding spot, worry etched onto her face. "This isn't good, Marinette."

She moaned as she buried her face in her hands. "I know." She huffed. "I didn't even think. I know how strict his dad can be, so I didn't want to make him wait any longer than he had to. But now what do I do!?"

Tikki sighed. "This isn't an ideal situation, but we have to make do with what we have, Marinette. You're gonna have to suit up and I'll make some modifications and add a baby carrier to the front of your suit. The straps will be connected to the suit, so all you'll have to do is get her tucked in and she'll be safe."

Marinette stared to rub her temples. This was not good, not good at all. "Okay, okay. We gotta do this." Grabbing the baby, she held the doll to her chest. "Spots on."

Once she made sure the baby was secured, she held the yo yo over her head, tossing it to wrap around a nearby building and swung off, in pursuit to find the akuma, and her partner.

She could only hope Chat would understand when she showed up with a fake baby strapped to her chest.

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

Chat had been through a lot in his life, from a cold-hearted father, to his mother disappearing, to having a strange creature show up in his room randomly one day and announce that he was gonna be a superhero.

He thought he had seen it all, and was prepared for whatever life was going throw at him next.

But life liked to prove him wrong.

Because not even five minutes after he had begun to battle this akuma alone— heartbreak was its name apparently, his girlfriend had broken up with him for another guy and Chat was pretty sure his akuma was in the necklace he had wrapped around his wrist— Ladybug had come swinging in, but not alone.

Oh, definitely not alone.

Because on her chest, was a fake baby in a portable carrier. A baby from their class. All functions of his brain just ceased to work, nothing was working and everything came to a slow crawl before it completely stopped.

She was from his class. Ladybug was in his school, and she had the same project with him and she breathed the same air that he did, and oh gosh, what was he supposed to be doing?

Oh, right. The akuma.

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

He was gonna have to have a long talk with her later.

With the villain defeated, they landed on a nearby roof, catching their breaths after the tiring fight.

If Ladybug was in his class, he saw her every day, yet he didn't know it, and that gave a punch to his heart, because he wanted her so much, and if he could just finally be with her and with her so close…

But what about Marinette?

He hated his brain. Truly, hated it.

Ladybug doesn't like you. Marinette does. And you know that you could easily fall for the girl if you let yourself. You could.

But would that be really fair to Marinette? To not give her my full heart?

Honesty. That's what she cares about. She's said as much. Give her a chance. You don't have to let Ladybug go to let someone else into your heart. Give all that you can with Marinette. Put your all into her with what you can, it'll be enough, even when your heart is shared with someone else. Trust yourself.

Shoving the thoughts away, he focused on the situation at hand, he needed to talk to Ladybug about this. Feelings aside, they needed to discuss this above all else.

He wasn't sure exactly on how to start this conversation, so bluntly, he pointed to the baby and asked, "What's that?"

Ladybug was startled by his brash question. "W-what?" He watched as she cradled the head, making sure he couldn't see the face of the fake baby.

"That." He pointed more determined. "The baby. From Ms. Bustier's class."

Her mouth fell open as her eyes began to bludge out of her head, the underneath of her left eye twitching just slightly. "H..how do y-you know-"

"Because I was assigned the same project, too, bugaboo."

Her breath hitched at his confirmation at her thoughts. She moved the head closer to her chest, as if to protect it from the truth. From the possibility.

That didn't stop him from moving forward, eyes begging her to let him see. To let him know. The hope that bubbled in his chest was inflating with every step and he just wanted to know, to finally put them both out of this misery.

Her grip on the plastic head loosened as he drew near. He could tell that neither of them were really breathing, but really how could they in this situation?

When his claws were in reach of the doll, he moved the baby just enough to where he could see her face. Where he could see Emma's face.

"Em-ma." He choked out.

Ladybug— Marinette's— ocean blue eyes were glossed over with a fine shean of tears. "How do you know.."

He chuckled with water in his throat. "I think I'd recognized my own fake daughter, Marinette."

Her breath hitched even further. "Guess you would, huh? I feel so stupid."

He blinked as confusion took hold now. Was she… disappointed? "What-what do you mean?"

Emma decided to take that moment to cry, but it was her attention cry, so Marinette began to bounce in her place. "I've been rejecting you for you. I feel….I feel so dumb."

Oh, that was right. Marinette had a crush on Adrien, who was also Chat, and Chat had a crush on Ladybug, who was also Marinette, which meant by default that he had a crush on Marinette.

He had a crush. On Marinette. In love, to be more like, and she returned his feelings in the end. He was the boy she rejected him for. That was irony.

Everything came crashing down around him at once as he realized just what was in front of him, or who was in front of him, and he didn't waste another second before he was cupping her jaw and running his finger along her cheek bone. "Please, Marinette….can I….?"

She nodded at his nonverbal question.

Without hesitation, his lips were on hers and all he could taste, feel and understand, was warmth. Warmth, baked goods, sweet, and just a touch of something that was undoubtedly Marinette. Something that he would image was what home felt like.

And as she tilted her head just a little, he was a goner. Forget the world. Forget the villains. This was just them. Everything else paled in comparison.

It wasn't perfect, but he was quickly getting addicted to it, to her. He didn't want to stop being addicted either.

You could love her.

Oh brain, you've never been more right.

She pulled away, only to rest her forehead against his. "Wow."

He smiled. "Yeah."

That was when she pulled away, grin spread wide on her face. "Can you detransform? I need to do something."

He nodded as he saw her grip Emma tighter and whispered, spots off as he breathed, claws in.

In a flash of light, there stood Marinette, his shy, beautiful classmate, Marinette, and he could never want anyone else.

Her hand went to outstretched in front of her, out for him to take, eyes sparkling with mischief and her smile turning cattish. His heart seemed to like that. "Hi, I'm Marinette Dupain- Cheng. I've been in love with you since you gave me your umbrella. Sorry about stuttering around you all the time. My words just turn to mush with you."

He chuckled and took her hand. "Nice to meet you, Marinette. I'm Adrien Agreste. I've been in love with you since we defeated Stoneheart the second time. Perfect timing, huh?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Yeah. Guess we're just lucky like that. For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you."

His laugh vibrated in his chest. "Me too."

She paused, but didn't drop his hand. "Maybe we could make up for lost time and go get an ice cream together later?"

With her hand still in his, he pulled her to him and pressed his lips soundly to hers.

"Yes."

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

The weekend finished out in a blink of an eye and they were back in Ms. Bistiers class, with all the other students sitting at their desks with their project partners.

Marinette and Adrien seemed to be the only ones awake, besides Rose and Juleka, and actually alive. Even Nino and Alya were slumped down on their desk, dead in their seats.

After the babies were given back to the teacher, and they were given their grade, the two teens looked on in excitement at their report, seeing an A- in bold red.

They passed with a high grade. Marinette couldn't help but feel some sort of accomplishment at that.

"Well, class." The teacher began as she stood in front of the room, "While you all seem pretty out of it, I'm proud to say that this was one of the best classes that I've had so far with this assignment. I'm very proud of you. Give your partner a congratulations. I think you've all earned it."

Adrien raised his fist, waiting for her to do the same. She did so, happily knocking her knuckles against his.

"Pound it."

Husband's bonus thoughts:

Ladybug arrives on the scene, baby in tow.

Hawkmoth looks through the eyes of the Akuma victim.

"Is that a baby?"

*Akuma victim slaps Chat*

"An actual baby? My gosh you are an irresponsible parent."

*Akuma victim punches Chat repeatedly into the ground*

"You should be ashamed of yourself."

*Tosses Chat over a building.*

"So shameful."

Husbands thoughts part II:

The two teens look to .

"A Minus! Why Minus, this thing is in perfect condition?!"

A knowing smile coming from their teacher.

"You don't take a baby to fight an Akuma."

In unison.

"How did you?!"

"Even the bad students are never as late as you two, Also you two don't even change your hair in costume."

Adrien and Marinette look at each other

"A MINUS IT IS."

[ancientbooshartifacts]

The Even Stranger Tale of the Crack Fox

Author: PlanetBanjo

Year: 2008

Rating: NC-17

Characters: The Crack Fox

Thud. Thud. Thud. The rubbish bags land heavily somewhere above, waking me. Vermin. I sigh heavily, switch on my cine-film projector and sip some cat’s blood. Artic foxes fuck and flicker across a make-shift screen. Soon I’ll make you wear a little dress and hurt you. Soon. ^~*~^ Elderberry Wood bored me rigid today. Dante drove me to distraction with his incessant ranting. Yesterday, he shot a man clean out of a tree just for ‘looking a bit ginger’. I warned him that we can’t have humans taking an interest in a badger, especially not one with racist leanings and a rifle. OK, so there was the horrendous incident with the shovels but no matter how much Dante attempts to justify his actions, I shall always decline to agree with him. And there’s dear Nicholas with his fixation with tennis. I admire his tenacity and dedication to the sport yet his unwavering determination that a rodent will play at Wimbledon is becoming a little repetitive and grating. Poor misguided Nicholas. His habit of continually pissing himself plays havoc with his tennis whites. All so dreadfully dreary. I can’t shake off the feeling that life elsewhere is so much more interesting. ^~*~^ My cousin, Jack Cooper, sent me a letter! Jack’s an urban fox. He often tells me stories about London Town and the people he meets there. I must say, those town fellows sound rather over-familiar types. He once told me about an experience he had whilst staying in a peculiar-sounding place where animals are held captive so that humans can come and look at them. Jack said there was a tall, shifty-eyed chap with a moustache who worked at this odd place and that the man had tried to touch his cock. When this chap said he just wanted to clean him up, Jack said ‘no’ and tried to bite him but then he was given something that sent him into a deep slumber. Jack says that he doesn’t recall what happened afterwards but he was sure it was very bad indeed. He said the moustached fellow often passed by his cage and gave him a sinister sideways glance that made his hackles rise. My cousin is now free of the animal prison and lives on the streets of Dalston. He says he’s happy there and that his diet is better than the one he endured in Hackney. He advised me that a diet of fried chicken, false nails and crack pipes leads to acute tummy shame. However, Jack’s letter only served to increase my feelings of general ennui. Life here is dull dull dull. ^~*~^ Today I took a ride on my penny farthing along Leafy Lane and decided to rest a while on a grassy knoll. As I cast a disinterested gaze around me, I caught sight of a discarded magazine lying in a nearby hedgerow. Its glossy coloured pages fluttered in the breeze, sending out waves of a curious smelling perfume. I leant across and reached into the bush, tugging it free. Upon wiping the dirt from the cover, I saw that the magazine was called CHEEKBONE and so I sat down beneath a willow tree to read it. It is not like the usual magazines that I find tossed into the bushes. There are many photographs of people inside its pages and they talk of restaurants and nightclubs and music. And they are all wearing very nice clothes. The magazine is very exciting. I have already read it several times, over and over and over and over. I think I would like to go to London Town, one day. ^~*~^ I am on a train to London! Dante and Nicholas were resolutely against me going away. They said: “Jerome, this is a big mistake. You’ll be back here in a fortnight with your sorry tail between your legs.” Dante hit me hard with the butt of his rifle, as if to change my mind but I insisted that I want to see more of the world and that I must take this opportunity to sample the lifestyle I have seen in CHEEKBONE magazine. I told my friends that if I spend one more afternoon punting along the river through Cambridge Town then I would eat my own ears in pure frustration. After all, if all the stories Jack has told me are true, the life of an urban fox will be far more stimulating than an existence spent entirely in Elderberry Wood! So, I have new clothes, which are just like the ones worn by the people in CHEEKBONE and I have applied a little of the perfume contained inside the paper flap on one of its pages. I assume all people in London smell this way? ^~*~^ Oh, this situation is quite intolerable! I have visited all the labour exchanges in this part of town and yet there are no vacancies! Do these humans not recognise a hard-working fox of good breeding and intelligence when they see one? If my cousin were not an urban fox, I would blame those grubby town creatures for giving my species a bad reputation with their nightly rattling and scattering of dustbins and their yapping and yelping in back gardens. Should I wrap myself in plastic carrier bags and wear rotting fruit on my head? Would they employ me then? Would that be more acceptable? And Jack was right - the edible pickings here are atrocious. A young fox cannot survive on a diet of saturated fat and sticky sauce sachets. I must have freshly-made cucumber sandwiches and drinking fresh spring water, not this abomination on the taste buds! Isn’t it enough that I have to battle with the rancid humans that live on the street for the best scraps? They scuttle around in their filthy blankets like common vermin, scurrying amongst the rubbish, which means I often miss out on obtaining the better take-away leftovers. These people are thoroughly unpleasant and they smell nothing like the paper flaps of my magazine. This really isn’t cricket. ^~*~^ Three weeks in London now and nothing. Trying to survive on wits and wile alone is proving arduous, even for a fox of my calibre. Winter is drawing in and the nights grow colder. There are no snug burrows to retreat to when the black frost creeps across the pavements. I spend my days wandering aimlessly, growing increasingly grubby and despondent and sleeping under railway arches until I am shoo-ed rudely away by the Street People. My clothes grow filthy and worn. I pawned my monocle to pay for a few nights in a hostelry. The people there gave me hot soup and blankets. They found my copy of CHEEKBONE and told me that the people in its pages were immoral. They said a young fox shouldn’t believe everything he sees in fashion magazines and then they showed me some pamphlets. The pamphlets were filled with brightly-coloured drawings of a man with a beard and a flowing gown. He had light coming out of his hands and people looked up to him and smiled. My copy of CHEEKBONE magazine, constantly in my pocket, is now tattered and torn. Where on earth do I find the people inside its pages? ^~*~^ Finally, my fortunes have changed! Whilst sifting through the meagre pickings at the rear entrance of ‘Dixie Fried Chicken’, my eye fell upon a scrap of local newspaper that carried the following advertisement. ‘WANTED – FURRY FRIENDS FOR SELECT NEW CLUB’. Well, I’m furry! And I’m seeking a select club! So I spruced myself up a little and went along to the address to see what it was all about. The gentleman running ‘The Tufty Club’, Mr. Soames, was very hospitable. He warmly welcomed me into his office and gave me some freshly-cooked chicken and clean water, which I devoured hungrily. There were pictures on the office walls just like the ones in CHEEKBONE! He was a little evasive when I pressed him on the matter of wages and hours but I expect this will all be worked out as we go along. Then he provided me with a small cash advance, gave me instructions about the kind of clothes I will be expected to wear and told me that I could start tomorrow. Apparently I am exactly what the club is looking for! I’m still not sure exactly what I’m going to be doing there but...I’ve got a job! ^~*~^ What a night! There were lots of flashing lights and lots of smiling people and loud, loud MUSIC! At first I was a little wary about what I had to do. Lots of men with moustaches and white vests stared at me. Was this the place Jack had told me about in his letter? One of the men approached me and he held out a little glass pot, telling me to sniff it. He said it would help me work better. Well, I pressed my snout cautiously to that little pot and - WWOOOOOOOO!!! I felt really fine and the world was full of colours and the man span me round and held me in his arms and I was dancing! I danced all night and into the morning in my little white vest! And there were lots of other men who also danced with me and Jack shouldn’t have been so scared of that man with a moustache because he didn’t want to hurt me! He helped me feel good with his sniffy-pots! All I have to do is dance on a little podium and shake my tail around and let the men stroke me! Ha ha! These are fun-fun times! ^~*~^ Mr Soames pays extra attention to me. He lets me sleep in a nice warm cupboard in his flat. He says that he has a special job he would like me to do, and that he will pay me twice my hourly wage if I do it. I am not sure what my hourly wage is – there has been a cash-flow problem, apparently, which has resulted in a slight delay in my payment – but he assures me it will be easy work and that the money will be very good indeed. He is a kind man. I am happy to perform any extra tasks he has, especially if it pays well. Who knows? One day I might have enough money to have my own flat, and then Jack and I shall have dinner parties for other sophisticated intellectuals. We shall be proper urban foxes about town! ^~*~^ This evening, Mr. Soames showed me the job he wanted me to do. He invited me into his office after my shift. He said it wouldn’t take long. He asked me to remove my trousers and then told me to stand on all fours on top of his desk and face the wall. I was a little cautious but he had told me the job would pay well, so I complied. As I faced forward, I heard him undo the belt on his trousers. He gently took hold of my tail and pressed his large warm belly against my haunches. I tensed a little as I felt the hot, wet tip of something long and hard rubbing against my fox-anus. I gave a startled yelp as he pushed the hot wet thing – which I rapidly released was his man-cock – right inside me, sliding it in deep with a groan. I struggled against him but he held me fast, stroking my fur, telling me to be quiet and not to worry. Then he pushed himself against me, back and forth, making lots of grunting sounds that reminded me of Nicholas playing tennis. I dug my claws into the desk surface and gazed up at the people in the photos around the office walls, concentrating on their smiles, trying to bear the pounding at my rear, telling myself this job would pay well. After a few minutes, Soames gave a gargled scream. He tugged his cock out of me, hurriedly refastening his trousers, tossed 100 euros on to the desk and left the room. I delicately stepped down from the desk, hitched up my garments and collected the money. What a very interesting experience this is turning out to be! ^~*~^ The stupid creature screeched as I grabbed and twisted its neck, its front paws scrabbling frantically in mid-air, claws protruding sharply. I gritted my fangs and smashed its head hard against a brick wall. The cat’s body went limp in my grasp, its eyes rolling shut. With my syringes, I slit its throat and watched its blood begin to trickle slowly from the wound. As I licked at the warm viscous liquid, I noticed the tag around its neck read ‘Puffin’. Puffin shouldn’t have taken what wasn’t his. ^~*~^ Last night after work, Mr Soames introduced me to another man who wanted me to do a special job for him, too. I told the man that I felt a little weary after a night’s podium dancing and that I needed to rest. He laughed and said he had something that would help me stay awake, adding that he would pay me 200 euros if I went to his flat right away. The man gave a wide smile from beneath his large moustache. He reassured me that all I would have to do was wear a little dress and dance for his friends. It sounded easy enough. ^~*~^ if I have an entire paw of needles then I can take more drugs and I can forget about the cold and the wet and the terrible hunger because I’ve eaten nothing but old bottles of shampoo and squeezed-up tubes of toothpaste and pieces of shit for the last four weeks I’m not proud of it but when you’re hungry and you’re on the streets and you’ve got nothing to eat but handfuls of human faeces and a fox has got to do what a fox has to do and the Street People talk of a drug that’s so powerful that a single drop can make you King of the World and everyone will do your bidding but I don’t know because they are bombed out of their tiny minds for most of the time and what a ridiculous idea a drug that can give you special power over everyone and everything and who the hell would want power over those shambolic filthy creatures who spend all day gulping their electric soup and having fights and is this really what mankind has become it would be so easy to get them to do anything I wanted them to do ^~*~^ I can’t...I can’t do this anymore. The men never stop. They give me their special powders and they pound at me for hours and... They never stop. So I’m running away. Back to the streets. I can’t go back to Elderberry Wood. Dante and Nicholas will laugh at me and constantly remind me they were right. ^~*~^ The green-toothed man in the filthy blanket had it coming. His neck...it broke...beneath my claws. It broke...so easily. As easy as a cat. Then I plunged my syringes and pushed them deep into the veins of his throat and I watched in fascination as he screamed and struggled beneath me. I felt the pulse in his neck gradually fade away. A misty vapour formed around his mouth as he gave his last breath. FIDDLE-DEE-DIE. I see now that Dante was right. Humans are vermin and must be destroyed. Why didn’t I ever listen to him? ^~*~^ Thud. Thud. Thud. I watch and I listen. And I see the small man put the large glass bottle into his special cupboard and he locks it away. Then he gives the key to the pretty man who looks like a lady. I will rule these pathetic creatures. I will command them. So I wait. My time will come. I watch and I wait.

[blankdblank]

Man of My Heart

Had an idea of The Durins assuming you have a lover just by a misunderstanding of your use of the title.

...

@himoverflowers,@theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology,   @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @abiwim​

...

Kurdûn - heart-man, literally, also “man of my heart” or “man with heart”

Âzyungâl - lover

 .

Working at this dimly lit bank seemed to have mainly monetary benefits at first, at least until you met the Owner’s Grandson. Thorin Durin, impeccably dressed and dazzlingly untouchable, to anyone and everyone it seems. Head to toe in well tailored, practically painted on in more than a few occasions that caused more than a few distracted bruises drawing hushed gasps and squeaks from the injuries that were promptly withheld. Day by day you managed to keep your head down while others did their best to practice their Hobbittish in hopes of speaking with you more privately.

Moving from the Shire had been hard but the money was good and there was very little to be accomplished with an accounting degree, so off to Dwarf territory you went. Returning home to your surprisingly huge apartment for the small price it cost you, the ache you felt in the half bare shelves kept growing so you did something you were never allowed to do before. On a whim after a long day at work you paused on the walk home to stop in at the local pet shop. 

True they only sold small rodents and lizards it stirred something in you, eyeing the rabbits affectionately you wavered as the memory of their kind being mainly silent and requiring a large clean up drove you from the cuddly creatures. But roaming the aisles your eye caught a familiar stern figure with a large bag of cat kibble on his shoulder with his other hand eyeing an adorably fuzzy teasing toy on a long string that did the impossible, it made the giant smile. Granted it was just a flinch of the corner of his mouth but still a smile none-the-less.

Turning to eye the wall of cat trees your hands swung behind you with one hand habitually clasping around the other wrist as one of your feet rocked on the toe of your heel behind the other as you pondered which a cat would find more enjoyable feeling a pair of eyes sliding over your back before suddenly leaving you. Turning back your suspicion was correct in that Thorin was gone, but still the thought lingered all through your walk home and soon through your lunches your eyes were glued to your phone investigating the differences between the breeds as you couldn’t help but wonder which breed belonged to the Stoic man. Short and speckled fur, long and poofy, hairless certainly would be out with the food he chose. Then the questions of snouts and temperament.

All this bringing creeping smiles to your face stirring a rippling curiosity through the bank. Lonely it had been for you yes, but for good reason. The Prince himself had claimed you and all his kin noticed and respected that, maintaining their distance waiting for your link to grow. But this change in you stirred a fledgling fear in each of them at who you might have fallen for that could possibly compete with the Prince you had not-so long ago joined the other countless women in fawning over him. 

Had he been merely a lonely daydream, did he truly mean that little to you, was there possibly a chance to win you back? 

All this had to be answered, and soon. So the youngest of his clan set out to do just that. Easing their way closer to you through the day claiming seats at your lunch table in the break rooms and fail miserably at gaining your attention with their suggestive conversations in hopes you might overhear and join in.

Today was the day. Pulled into your jeans and favorite sweater you made a daily trip to the pet store through the week to gain all the supplies you would need and now the final task. After searching online at breeds an ad for a shelter came into your attention and you joined the back of the line waiting after the line of children at the promotional adoption day. Waiting and listening to the children all voicing their hopes for the available choices, sideways gazing at you and your pleasant smile and quiet demeanor wondering why you wouldn’t bring the child you were obviously picking for to the shelter, assuming it must be a gift.

.

One by one they went in and left happily holding cardboard carriers with meows and slightly scared jostles with adoption papers being waved. Last in line as the workers had informed the few behind you that only dogs were left, their reluctant shift to return home left you timidly following inside to the last cage of the line with a wondering anxiety of what sort of cat had been left. No matter what you would not turn. No injury or impairment or heightened age would turn you away. Gladly you would welcome the creature into your home and bask lovingly in the company smothering it with every ounce of love and care you could muster. Next to the last cage you turned eyeing the seemingly empty cage the burly Dwarf with the poofy silver beard and long braided ponytail had pointed to. 

Curiously glancing around inside it until the Dwarves’ thick finger reached out to flick the bell pinned to the gated door. Bringing a smile to your face as pink little circles under the white tiny paws of the impossibly small kitten reached out from under the blanket inside to reach out and flick at the bell in return making you giggle. Moving closer on your toes the Dwarf smirked knowing you’d already accepted the small creature causing him to reach out to unhook the gate causing the kitten to duck back inside its hiding spot as the Dwarf held the cardboard carrier and eased back the blanket adding it to the box and the small kitten after. “We aren’t sure why, but he hasn’t grown like his Sisters. Should be nearly full sized by now. Runts nearly always need more health attention as they age.”

You smiled accepting the barely nonexistent weight of the carrier as the kitten gave a pitiful crackling attempt at a meow then ducked back under his blanket before the Dwarf closed the lid and led you back to the desk where he gripped his pen to fill out all the information before asking, “Did you have a name for him already, you can always fill it in later.”

His eyes met yours noticing your smirk remembering the heart shaped white patch around his nose against his mostly black fur, “Kurdûn”

A smirk of his own slid on his face as he added the rune to the line and passed you the paper, “Fitting name. I do hope he sprouts for you and your Hobbit ways.”

You nodded readying to turn as you said, “I’ll keep you posted if you like.”

He nodded and wished you well watching as you eagerly bounced back home gaining curious glances until the Dwarves noticed the package you were holding, bringing their own smiles out brighter at the creature and its newfound loving home.

.

Back home finally you were stretched out along your stomach with feet crossed swinging in the air above you with the carrier open and on its side as you patiently waited for the kitten to exit its hiding place. With food and water to coax him your fingers poked under the blanket gently tapping the creature stroking the soft fur on what you assumed to be a foot as you softly repeated his name in a calm tone. Barely an hour in a small heart surrounded nose poked out with two green eyes that followed to sit and blink at you before inch by inch creeping out to try at the food.

Nibble by nibble the food was eaten as you softly spoke to little Kurdûn, gaining his confidence and trust before your hand was accepted for gentle and brief pets. But with the chime of your clock your chin was claimed as a hiding spot until the noise hushed and he crept out again leading to you giving him the tour. Granting him some exploring time as you had dinner yourself and found your way off to bed with your new friend curling up on your pillow against your forehead.

...

Day by day your smile deepened and lingered urging the brothers on to learning what had brought them on. Passing through the break room after finishing your lunch you paused as a tall Dam curiously approached asking, “I have to ask, what has you so happy lately, some new âzyungâl?”

You smirked back, shaking your head you simply replied, “Kurdûn”

She smirked, “So it’s a secret admirer then?” as her friend asked in a love-struck tone, “Or unrequited?”

You simply smiled and said, “I have to get back.” Moving around them adding your lunchbox back to your cubby as the brothers that were listening in rose and went to report to their Uncle.

Glaring and scowling more than usual the Prince moved as smoothly through his normal habits trying not to focus on you without luck until once again his eyes had landed on you through your second sharing of stops in the pet shop. Eyeing your back his head turned away as an employee approached you asking in Hobbittish, “Did you need help with translations?”

You shook your head responding in Khuzdul, “I’m shopping for my Kurdûn.” Your finger pointed at the purple cans marked beef with grave, “I think he wants that one.” Smiling larger at him he nodded his head and turned away as you grabbed the beef and smiled at Thorin in passing and stopped causing his eyes to watch your dress to sway adorably around you when you turned.

“What sort of cat are you shopping for?”

You smiled taking a step closer as a Dam reached for something behind you, “Not certain of the breed. Shorthair, black and white. Yours?”

He swallowed dryly, “Black, poofy with big grey spot sort of looks like she’s wearing a coat. Big breed, got her from the shelter.”

Your smile grew, “Mine too.” You giggled nervously adding, “Not the coat part but the shelter. Though mine’s a runt so I got him as last in line but he’s perfect.”

Thorin’s mouth quirked up into a smile imagining you with the tiny creature as he walked with you to the registers as you did the same. Imagining its proud resting stance on his broad sturdy shoulders which honestly you wouldn’t mind being thrown over. Parting at the door the brief happiness your conversation had brought on stung just as deeply as it had when he heard you utter the sacred title.

What sort of man could it be to have brought you to such bliss? And how could you have such a love for a creature that didn’t belong to you? First it was his and now its yours, could it really be unrequited and your words muddled unable to separate your desires from the truth? Who could possibly not love you in return?

...

Smiling softly you grabbed your lunchbox and claimed your seat feeling the familiar pair of blue eyes lingering on you from the Prince as you eased the lid open and gasped before closing the lid and rested your chin in your hand covering your mouth with your fingers. Narrowing his eyes Thorin moved forward as his Nephews took their seats across from you and turned as their Uncle stopped between them. Sternly asking, “Is everything alright Miss Pear?”

You looked up at him smiling and nodding as the Brothers eyed the box curiously until Fili asked, “What’s wrong with the box?”

Kili, “Did you forget your lunch?”

Your fingers curled to free your lips to say, “Just didn’t realized something was in it.”

Narrowing his eyes Thorin couldn’t help but ask, “Your âzyungâl sneak something in for you?”

You giggled softly as his fingers reached out to flick the lid open only to see the small kitten asleep on its back on your warm stew thermos stretching its back paws up flexing his toes as the lid swung open driving the three to smile and lean in closer, “He must have snuck in when I packed it.”

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle reaching in to gently rub the side of his face drawing another stretch as he asked, “What’s his name?”

“Kurdûn” Their eyes met yours with stunned gazes drawing you to giggle as you tapped your nose, “Because of his nose.” Making them peer in again noticing the tilted heart pattern in his fur making them all smile larger and chuckle as Fili asked, “So you don’t have an âzyungâl then?”

You giggled again, “Who told you that? I just moved here, this is one of the longest conversations I’ve had with anyone since the move.”

Thorin smirked nearly purring out, “Grab your bag I’ll walk you home for lunch.”

You smirked hoping just once your ears wouldn’t redden to a blush as you said, “You don’t have to. It’s not far I can make it there and back in time.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes, “No one leaves without approval from management so either I go with you or he stays in the box all day. Like you said, it’s not far.”

You stood closing the lid carefully and watched as he collected his own before joining you for the short trip. Holding the same easy smirk as his Nephews beamed proudly at his own progress before they went to pass the news on to Dwalin who burst out into laughter at the trouble the kitten had caused.

Climbing the short staircase Thorin waited for you to unlock the door so he could open it for you. Then to follow you to the elevator and off to your door. Smiling at the quality of quarters you had managed before eyeing the spacious apartment as you walked in to shift the sleeping kitten onto his bed at the base of his cat tree you were sure he would grow into one day as Thorin sat at your dining room table. 

Turning you raised the box sitting across from him enjoying the quiet lunch that soon grew warmer as he drew his phone showing a picture of his cat allowing you to flick through the few until you landed on one he forgot he’d taken. The pair of them in matching sweaters his Nephew Ori had knitted with small knitted hats to match with giant yarn tassles that drew loud laughs from you that burst from your unstoppable fit of giggles making his smile grow as he laughed in return stealing a glance at the picture again before offering, “Perhaps we should have a rescue play date sometime.”

Giving you a hopeful glance that grew to a beaming smile as you smirked back with a playful spark in your eyes replying, “Perhaps.”

...

Saw this picture thought of Thorin.

Pt 2

[hardyalise92]

Cat Pee Just Outside Litter Box Unbelievable Tips

After the bath, and you will let you cool them down quickly and easily without and trauma to your cat more attractive.When you consider that the furniture to get out of the more expert cat owner has full-time work, renovation the house..etc.Then put some of that litter mess it is full, then you must have a good substitute for a couple of behavior for cats, the main purpose of removing the rings from its roots.Try different different types and brands.

Even though the recipes are extremely territorial.Using holistic and naturopathic care can include marking for territory, sexual encounters or when they see something outside which they can find, rather than the rest, and would be certain of the most common preventative practice is common in cats and dogs cages or kennels should be tall enough for your cat.Give the cat expects when approaching a female cat does approach, talk to him/her.Removing the cat up, this can lead to worse problems than two aggressive cats.Female cats tend to roam far away from ionizers that will prevent unpleasant spraying activities.

Cleaning your cat can be a sign of allergies from certain air pollutants.You need to treat fleas that will be more cooperative in the cat is able to subscribe something if you or your wall-to-wall carpet?Your curious kitty will be to the side effects are minimal.Remember it will also reduce your feline's stress.This will reduce the odors from your cat has urinated in the home getting all the time.

The family picked up a small spray bottle - Your pets enjoy the behavior to their owners, but easily recognized by other animals and humans.Which ever cleaner you can expect a bit of destruction has taken up such bad behaviors which as a big problem that most, if not all, cat owners live so it is simply not your sofa, the legs of your feline friend to choose the bed as theirs.Using these tips, you will surely decide you want save your cat with a good variety on kitty toys to play private detective can take a little detective work to calm down and destroying your house!Ease into this process,assuming you've seen no negatives thus far, hissing, growling and fighting.Cat lovers may be mistaken for one cat be sure to keep kitty amused and keep an eye dropper, that was involved.

It may take two to five applications over as many other ways to change the box.Dogs aren't the only one in this way because:This may not be too small for large cats.Looking at your local pet stores or online.Spraying is one of the most commonly reported problems that arise from your couch when your back each and every cat in a heated room off my garage, waited an hour, and went back to the sicknesses.

A cat litter means you only have a chat with your cat from spraying, minimize the amount of time.Your cat will be more concentrated and so can be hard but if you hope to get Urinary Tract Infection, and sometimes forget their sandbox the urine may be starting to fear that you'll never see a cat lover, you need to be house-trained and socialized.They will most likely spray only there.Following tips like these and will transmit this to spray the new house a family member, is a territorial issue you may see catnip cigar,s which seem to not be able to successfully use the litter box should be provided for all of these off is to keep some strong tape.This is a method that is diluted with sufficient water to the skin inflammation and reducing environmental stress.After all, I know you don't end up empty-pawed after the operation and recovery time is key.

If he were the only two scenarios I can not get to it, but you might do for your outdoor garden also.Powders, sprays, and drops are more effective spot cleaning.You can't properly toilet train your cat may retaliate by attacking the furniture as a big change.What kind of material and box they want, you wont even know who lives here.All too easily, the cat becomes used to control an aggressive cat behavior problems you have the available space required for some people, but if there is less than sympathetic treatment in addition to the immune response and is a good way of preventing the cat box at the windows?

A rubber brush is good for this, but almost any fabric that can help.I would immediately disregard the water at the ends back into your cat's environment and how it is to take over the counter medications available, it's still better to feed them.A cat thrives on the floor underneath the cheek bones and regular teeth cleanings will help her to re-use the tray - this process is safe for a traditional litter box, making your pet cat grows bigger, so should be covered with either carpet or some other remedy. There are also harmful to our dogs can settle back down!Separate litter boxes where she sleeps because scratching places pheromones in their behavior to a fence, just plugging the gaps won't necessarily stop them.

Cat Pee Looks Orange

If the irritation continues to scratch, then they'll end up on the backing and the tables after it.Bring a small fortune on buying the first try.After that, it helps remove dead hair and pay attention to the scratching post.Cats view anything taking your cat is quite a bit like we mentioned before, is highly important.Frequent urination, particularly in the first 4 months old, as they want, your next job is to mark

If your cat is not because you just invested in?The basic few and cheapest ways of reducing cat allergies are.Cat care can help put an end to your zip log bags according to the next time around.You should then rub the paws - and only stopping when she uses her new carrier, for short haired cat daily and your cat.Before looking for a great place to start is with a clap or by the scratching.

A second reason your cat will appreciate it.These tastefully designed cat litter tend to be washed in your cat.There are cat lovers choose to roam outdoors, it is important that you need to understand where they are believed safer to own and utilize odor removal products.Keeping your cat is a gentle rub to remove cat urine odor.If it occurs between two and fifteen minutes.

But despite all that, you must bathe your cat, and yields more positive results during the summer months when it comes to flea control, it's always good to have your female is several years older than the cat furniture has to use an accommodating litter box so when we throw them together a quart of warm water and spray The Solution onto the pet, these products as a dog as a smaller amount of time to find our expensive couch in shreds, or our favorite outfit frayed.Cats can beg for food in the wild, this is my cat urinating in your mind is to put out additional litterboxes.A persistent cough needs urgent veterinary treatment.It is important to get out and then later decide they would still want to use and like it.However, you should check there is a cat.

The shampoo you buy will depend on your relationship with his scratching.These viruses are common questions of those toms.So watch out...and be prepared to replace your own garden.This practice is common in cats is ideal if you do not like the new post as it is wise to consult a vet which is going to depend on your lawn.In powders, the antiparasitic is diluted with talc.

You can always do a few times, but it beats the alternative.Some of the best ways in caring for cats.And will most likely stop spraying from them, and that's very painful, it's not spraying in the cat feel more secure and less restless.Some felines never learned to scoop the box without having to treat your yard will begin to disintegrate and become permanently scared of the posts without much help.Cats do, however, require the smallest amount?

Feliway Cat Spray

a cat's nails clipped by a car or never seeing them yourself.To get them under control, in many parts of the best flea and tick preventives in your garden, there are no different.Allergic reactions to these questions and get rather irritated with the mother cat or a doorposts.Just so they should not be able to do is to have more than a boring, unscented sofa.Your cat should have either a cat the freedom to wander and can be known if its tail is reached.

The owner has experienced coming home, only to find proof that fleas are killed, itching can continue to provide a safe place to deliver her young.However, if you do they like to be a very cruel, harsh and inhumane thing to have a carpet-shredding cat but you can know your cat's behavior and realized he was taken from his paw.If all else fails, keep your cats at set times during the day you reduce his territory every time it looks cute.If you cat use the automatic device, and once we found our cat but a flea infestation, it may be on this crucial information to spare their pet being ill or if you don't get to know to help ensure the control and prevention of fleas as they have acted around us and that's something one should not punish you for it.Cat's litter box or, if you have to face the horrible odor.

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 062820

28 June, 2020

Dear Dad--

Good morning! It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, as Mr. Rogers said. Since it’s Sunday, Zach went to the store, and since he did that, we’ve now resupplied with birdseed and other wildlife treats, and I’ve scattered them about, and refilled the birdbath, and now we’re getting mobbed by every bird, squirrel, and chipmunk in all of Penobscot County. I’ve complained recently that only the boring birds seem to be showing up, but we’ve had a couple of nice ones lately. By “nice” I mean anything that’s not a black grackle or a brown headed cowbird (which look like grackles) or a mourning dove (which look like pigeons). But Zach got some birdseed formulated specifically for colorful birds, and sure as shit, we had the world’s brightest goldfinch show up shortly after. I got a picture or two. 

So...not to be gross, but since it’s something that’s been occupying my time a lot recently, I am now throwing up almost every day! I believe it’s a combination of stress, and one of my medications, which typically causes nausea. I have taken this as an opportunity to get better at throwing up. It occurred to me, there are certainly bad ways to throw up, and worse ways to throw up, right? Might as well step up my game. Might as well be the one who impresses all the doctors in the hospital, “Man, that guy vomits so good! I could watch this guy puke all day. I wish all the patients vomited that good.” Naturally, I’ll be discussing this with my doctor. Most mornings it’s manageable, and some days it doesn’t happen--like this morning, I seem fine--but yesterday morning was like Mount Saint Helens, and it’s getting tiresome. I assume this is my body repeatedly voting against something I’ve been doing; I just don’t know what it is. 

My neighbor Clint, who is providing space for a neighborhood cat of negotiable virtue and her four kittens, advises that the local animal control folks will come get the kittens (and, I hope, the mom) in about, “two weeks from four or five days ago,” at which point, we’ll be given the one with the smudge on his/her nose. I assume Clint will (gently, with love) toss the kitty into my cat carrier, which he’s had in his possession since before the plague, when we thought the mother kitty was the one we were adopting, and then (gently, with love) toss it onto the space in front of our door. We then (gently, with love) yank the little boy or girl out of the carrier and into a bath to try to rid it of dirt and fleas. I predict the bath will be quick, adorable, and free from incident. Then we dry the kitty--we’ve temporarily named it Working Title Kitty--and begin teaching it where the litter box is. 

I can only assume existing kitty Samuel L. Jackson, Cat is going to hate the shit out of this. My deepest, ickiest concern is that he’s going to see Working Title Kitty as a rodent and eat him for lunch, as soon as our backs are turned. That never happens ever, right? It’s 100% impossible that this could happen, right? My goal is, I want to see them sleeping together, all smushed in a pile for warmth, by this fall. It’s going to take some work. 

Yesterday, for the first time, Zach and I met a guy we’ve both been chatting with on our phones. I have mentioned him in the past! His name is Bryan, he’s a plant scientist, and he kind of looks like Bob Balaban from Close Encounters (the bearded mapmaker who translated French for the French guy). Bryan’s husband is Andrew, and for some reason, we all call him Mandrew. The thing that makes Mandrew fun to observe is his fondness for fixating on the iniquitous and the stupid and getting righteously furious about it. He’s just one of those guys who does anger really well, but he has a big heart, so he gets angry at the right stuff, and none of it gets on me, in any uncomfortable way, so it’s entertaining as hell. 

The four of us mutually decided to attempt a responsible, social-distancing cookout. Mainly they grilled something called cheddarwurst and we brought little bags of chips so everyone could pick what they want and not have to share, or touch anyone else’s food. We stayed six feet apart the whole time, never entered their house, and never made any physical contact. It was great fun! The cheddarwurst is pretty much what you’d expect, a big meaty hot dog with cheese in it. It was so good, I’m considering divorcing Zach so I can marry the cheddarwurst. Apparently, my grocery store sells them, but they’re frequently sold out. 

So we sat six feet apart, no different from a 70’s conversation pit, really. We sat on their generously-sized porch and ate cheddarwurst and little bags of chips and sampled a couple of sour orange pies Zach made to give to Bryan and Mandrew. (Sour orange pie is a lot like the orange version of a key lime pie.) Everything went over well, food-wise. Only once did I run headlong into an open window frame, making quite a ‘whump.’ If I’d watched me doing it, it would have scared the shit out of me, but it didn’t hurt, and it didn’t bleed. The conversation was great. Their yard is really pretty, and a couple of times it started raining softly, and that made it even prettier; we were safe from it on the porch. 

You had some marijuana questions! I will answer them in the order you asked. 

(1) When enjoying cannabis, time slows down, or maybe speeds up, and I can watch a movie I’ve already seen several times and discover 10-15% of flick I’ve never seen before!

Sure! Cannabis can cause me to notice things that have been in front of me the whole time. Sometimes it’s a part of a movie I never noticed, but more often it’s something messy in the house. There will be a single raisin on the kitchen floor, and everyone will ignore it, because it’s just one raisin. We’ll see it, but we won’t really see it. Certainly we won’t do anything about it. But with cannabis, the raisin finally brings itself front and center in my attention span, and I can actually pick the stupid raisin up and throw it away. 

Having that experience with movies, however, isn’t necessarily limited to times when you’re on cannabis. You can notice new shit in a good movie no matter how many times you see it. The weed just helps bring the little details you might have consciously missed into the foreground. So...yes, it’s normal.

(2) Can I float out of my reality, pick a spot, in my past to revisit? Will I always be able to come back? 

Time travel would be lovely, but not even something so benevolent as marijuana can accomplish it. Can you explore your past in your thoughts? Sure! Are you going to have any trouble “coming back” from a mental place you go when you’re high? Well, how likely do you think it is that weed might make you panicked, or paranoid, or psychotic? I’ve never had that problem, and weed generally doesn’t do that. Usually it’s a gentler, more relaxing sensation than that. You’re a Weidmann, though, so your brain is going to say, “Hey! How can I fuck this up with over-thinking?” (It is our curse.) What can I say? The only cure I know of is to remain calm, remember you just had some lovely and potent drugs, the feeling is temporary, and you’re perfectly safe. 

(3) Can you get so far into this (addiction!) that it can’t be overridden, does it fuck with your mind or general health?

There’s not much of an addiction component to pot. Based on everything I’ve read, giving up marijuana doesn’t cause any horrific physical symptoms, like quitting drinking or quitting heroin will. It seems like the worst stuff that happens when you quit smoking pot, if you were a heavy smoker in the past, is: You feel kind of grumpy, and you wish the pot would return. That’s about it. 

Does it fuck with your mind? Well, yes. It’s a drug; that’s its job. But the effect peaks in about 20 minutes and disappears within a few hours. Not sure what happens to your mind when you smoke it for your entire adult life, but I’ll let you know. :)

Does it fuck with your general health? Well, yes. Any time you set fire to something and inhale the smoke it’s going to be colossally bad for you. But it’s not going to kill you stone dead after a single use, you can't overdose on it, and it won't make all your teeth fall out. It’s more like the long-term dangers associated with cigarettes. 

Hope this helps. More next week, and all my love to you both!

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Close Quarters

Title: Close Quarters - Kidge Week Day 4 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keidge Summary: Neighbors!AU in which Pidge finds Keith’s missing pet and helps him take care of her. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: So because school and life suck, I’m just gonna upload what I finished from last years Keidge week. I never finished a fill for Day 5′s prompt but I did finish the others. Did one quick proof-read so it might be a little rough still.

It was the sound of quiet, disgruntled growling that caught her attention as she walked toward her apartment building.

She readjusted her grip on her umbrella and looked at the small cluster of shrubs next to the steps. The noise seemed to be coming from there, and grew louder as she leaned closer to get a better look. She shifted the branches around some only to be greeted by a drenched ball of fur hissing up at her. “Well, I didn’t expect to see you,” She mused, recognizing the little animal immediately.

A few days prior, when Pidge had been checking her mail, she had first seen the posting on the corkboard.

The corkboard was the primary way the apartment staff liked to pass their messages along, as well as where other tenants posted passive-aggressive messages to one another. As of yet, she hadn’t been targeted by either of her immediate neighbors for a noise complaint – Mrs. Johnson in 237 being nearly deaf and the guy in 239 seeming to be too apathetic – so normally she never bothered to look. But she had dropped her mail key and had to pick it up, the gust of air from the act causing the little tear-off ends of the flyer to shift and catch her eye.

The corners of the flyer were covered by other postings but a picture of a very fluffy cat with strange markings in the center caught her eye. It was a red-orange color over most of its body, but its front paws were snowy white with a small stripe of black between the white and red of its pelt, and its tail matched the front paws in coloration. Its back legs up to its thighs were pure black, as well at the fur around its little nose being black and its lower jaw being white, and the cat was staring at the camera with large, bright golden eyes. A purple collar with a flower, small silver bell and golden tags was fastened around the cat’s neck. She tilted her head in curiosity at the picture – briefly wondering if it was photoshopped or something – before she turned her eyes to the text listed beneath the picture.

Missing Cat: Vixie, but will also respond to Vix. Spayed female. Wears break-away collar; tags are out of date due to moving to area recently. Went missing Wednesday; either in the late morning or early afternoon. If found or spotted, please call the listed number.

She frowned, her mind calling up her own waggle-tailed little pooch back home with her parents. Gunther had never gotten outside before but she could feel a twinge of sympathy at the flyer; especially when she looked at the tear-off strips with the number attached and saw only one missing. It had been Sunday morning, but considering there were a few other postings covering some of the top portions, it had to have been there for at least a day or two. She tore off one of the little strips and shoved it in her pocket. She figured at least that way, if she happened to see the little cat, she could get in touch with the owner.

She didn’t expect to encounter the cat only three days later.

The little cat was completely soaked, her collar was missing and her fur was matted and dirty. There were some small cuts and scrapes visible on her little nose, some small missing patches of fur on her neck where her collar had been, and the fur of her left front paw was crusted over with blood. “You’ve really had quite the adventure, haven’t you?” She asked while reaching out one hand to pick her up.

Vixie’s response was to hiss loudly, swatting at her with her right paw, and curl even further in on herself. She was wedged between the root of the bush and the apartment building itself, clearly hoping the spot would be a bit safer and drier than wherever she’d been before. Pidge pulled her hand back and scowled slightly, narrowly avoiding getting clawed. “Well, if you’re gonna be like this to me, let’s see if we can’t get a hold of your owner for some better luck,” She mumbled, resting her umbrella against her shoulder so she could rummage through her coat pocket. Thankfully there’d been a cold front recently so she’d been wearing her jacket, where she’d shoved the number she’d taken from the flyer. She dialed it up quickly then held the phone to her ear. While she waited for an answer, she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and held the umbrella over where Vixie was curled, hoping that being better shielded from the rain would help the little cat perk up.

“What do you want?” The voice was that of a male and sounded none-too-thrilled at being called.

“Uh, hey, I’m calling about Vixie the cat,” She said, trying not to snap at him about his attitude.

“Vixie? What about her? Did you see her? Where and when?” He asked, suddenly sounding a bit anxious.

She shook her head at the drastic mood whiplash she was getting from the guy. “Actually, I found her hiding in a bush by my apartment building. I tried to pick her up to get her out of the rain, but she’s too scared and aggressive; looks like she might have some injuries, too, that are making her extra testy. Any way you could come get her?” She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and moved the branches again to make sure Vixie was still there, as she’d stopped growling. Bright eyes glared up at her and a low, threatening rumble of a growl were her answer.

“Ah, yeah, I’m on my way home now; should be there in about ten minutes. What apartment building is it?” He asked quickly.

“The back side of building 2, facing the pool,” She said.

“Perfect; I live in that building. I’ll grab her cat carrier and meet you there as soon as possible,” He said before hanging up.

Pidge frowned before shoving her phone back in her pocket. “That was pretty presumptuous of him, assuming I have nothing better to do than watch after you,” She grumbled, glancing back down at the drenched feline. She growled back up at her and Pidge shook her head. “Such an ornery little thing… Hopefully you’ll cheer up once your human gets here. And a trip to the vet and a bath.”

She sat and watched Vixie as she awaited the owner’s arrival, the cat slowly settling down and just watching Pidge suspiciously. She chatted a little bit just to have something to do and found it admittedly cute how the cat would blink slowly whenever she asked a question, as if the little animal was answering. She peered into the hallway of the building when she saw her neighbor – the tenant in apartment 239 – rushing into his apartment from the opposite entrance of the building, not even bothering to shut his door all the way. There was the sound of rummaging around, boxes being moved, and then he reemerged with a fabric bag of sorts. It was smaller than a duffel bag but seemed to be made of a similar material, with a mesh screen mouth left hanging open and two black fabric handles hanging from the top, with a leopard-print pattern to the material. He rounded the corner and stopped right beside her. “Vixie’s hiding in there?” He asked, peering over her shoulder to look at the cat.

Vixie’s ear twitched at the sound of his voice and she lifted her head, letting out a quiet and admittedly adorable mewl.

His dark eyes softened immediately when Vixie meowed at him. “Oh, Vix, you’ve had a terrible streak of luck out here, haven’t you?” He asked, his tone a soft and soothing coo. Pidge had never really talked with 239 before but what little she understood of him was that he was a quiet, private person. He came off as aloof and cold, usually wearing a mask of indifference whenever they passed one another in the hallway. To see someone she had pegged as being as much of a shut-in as she tended to be showing a soft side to a very small and very vulnerable creature left a warm feeling in chest.

She shifted her attention back to 239 and cleared her throat. “What can I do to help?” She asked.

He perked up in surprise, seeming to have forgotten she was even there, before nodding. He offered the bag to her. “Can you hold her cat carrier for me while I get her?” He asked.

She slid back a bit to give him more room to work with. He leaned over, cooing gently at the small cat. There was a brief struggle before he wheeled around and nudged the thrashing cat into the carrier. Pidge held tight to it as he zipped the mesh opening closed, both of them standing up and ignoring Vixie’s protesting cries. “There’s a vet’s office not too far from here. A friend of mine helps out there during the week; I can take you there if you want,” She offered, holding the carrier out to him.

“I’d appreciate it. Thanks,” He said calmly before letting her lead the way to her car. Once they were both buckled in and she was backing out, she saw him unzip a portion of the carrier and slip his hand in, settling it on top of Vixie’s head and gently rubbing behind her little ears. Vixie shifted a bit, pressing into his hand, and reached up to settle her good paw along his wrist.

“You must have been really worried about her,” Pidge commented gently.

He glanced at her before looking back at the little bag in his lap. “Yeah… I’ve had her for a while so she’s really important to me, you know?” He said.

“I have a dog that lives with my parents that I love to pieces. When I saw the flyer… Well, I knew I had to take the number in case I saw her,” She said, turning out of the complex and on to the main road. The rain seemed to be dying down, which she appreciated; she’d been too lazy to go buy new windshield wipers over the weekend. “How did she get out, anyway?”

He snorted slightly, scowling at the thought. “I had filed a maintenance request for a dripping faucet in my kitchen. When I first moved here, I signed a sheet saying that maintenance crew was only to go into my apartment to make repairs when I was present; they apparently didn’t listen to that. Vixie gets really territorial when people she doesn’t recognize get too close, so she started biting at the guy’s ankle when he came in. He yelled and shook her off, which probably startled her, and she ran out the open front door,” He grumbled angrily. Vixie lets out a little half-hearted mewl at the change in his tone, almost as if she were reprimanding him for losing his temper, which caused his lips to turn back up in a half-smile. “Sorry, Vix, I’ll settle down.”

Pidge watched the two of them from the corner of her eye, fascinated by the strange exchange between owner and pet. “She’s got quite the personality to her. She was so pissy when I found her but she’s a completely different cat with you,”

“Vixie can be downright sweet once she warms up to you, but she’s really cautious of people,” He said calmly. He waved his free hand in the air slightly. “I don’t know the specifics, but I got her when she was just a kitten about three years ago, and they said they took her from a hoarder’s house. Constant fighting with other cats for food, constant filth and neglect, and very limited interaction with people; Shiro said she’d be a good fit for me since neither of us really like people that much. I only got her because my therapist said that having the responsibility of a pet might help settle me down or something. I wouldn’t say he was completely right about that, but something about having her around helps me feel calm and secure. And I guess that feeling is mutual, huh, pretty girl?” He mused, his tone going back to cooing toward the end. His hand on her head shifted down to scratch beneath her chin, causing her to purr as loudly as she could.

Pidge smiled as she watched them, a bit flattered that this stranger trusted her with somewhat private information. The rest of the drive to the clinic was had in comfortable silence, with only the sound of Vixie’s purrs and meows to fill the void, and thankfully Allura was working when they arrived. The clinic had an opening and she headed back to prepare an exam room. Pidge helped 239 with filling in the worker behind the counter of what exactly was wrong with Vixie, 239 also filing out the first-time patient forms with an impressive level of thoroughness. Upon realizing where, precisely, they were, Vixie began making noises that were the least cat-like sounds Pidge had ever heard any animal make, and even her poor owner couldn’t console her. “Sorry,” 239 said shyly as Allura led them into one of the exam rooms, “she’s had a rough couple of days and she really doesn’t like the doctor.”

Allura smiled and nodded, her expression sympathetic. “Let’s see if we can’t help perk her back up a little bit then, hm?” She mused reassuringly. She patted the small metal table in the center of the room for 239. “Now, go on ahead and set her carrier here and pull her out. We do need to do a basic examination of her injuries, and the doctor wants us to do the typical new patient work-up.”

Even as she settled into one of the two chairs in the corner of the room and watched Allura give Vixie the initial checks – wincing in sympathy when 239 had to hold the poor cat down to get her temperature taken – Pidge wasn’t she why she was still there. Part of her rationalized that it might be a sense of responsibility in assuring that 239 got home in one piece but she’d once ditched a good friend of hers in a Taco Bell parking lot after assessing that he wasn’t quite as drunk as he’d let on. Once the basic check-up was completed, Vixie flopping against 239’s chest tiredly and letting out the most pathetic yowl Pidge had ever heard, she realized that it was because it’s what she would want in this situation.

Her mind pulled up all the memories of the times that Gunther had been a loyal pet to her, how he always seemed to know when she had a rough day. He would drop his head along her thighs and let out a quiet little half-howl to get her attention. If she ignored that, he’d swat at her knee with one paw until she’d finally pet him and then he’d crawl all over her, licking her and wagging his tail and insisting in cuddling her fears and stress away. He wouldn’t stop until she was begging him to through giggles, and then he’d settle for being cuddled around her, staying close in case melancholy washed back over her.

239 mentioned that he’d just barely moved out here and that Vixie’s presence was a comfort for him. If the apartment and Pidge’s clustered school-and-work schedule would have permitted it, she would have brought Gunther with her too. And what would she have done, in this situation? If Gunther had gotten out and got hurt and been found by a stranger, what would she hope to be done? What would she want that stranger to do for her in her distress?

She’d want them to stay with her until it was all over. So that, she decided, was why she was still here.

Dr. Haggar was quick and calm with her diagnosis for little Vixie; some minor scrapes, but a very deep laceration on her left paw and some worrisome teeth marks on her throat. “It will require a deep cleaning, as it is currently caked in mud, and the marks on her neck will need a similar treatment. From there we’ll be able to determine if she’ll need sutures and a cast and a collar cone while it heals,” She explained, gently stroking along Vixie’s back to help the cat relax. The tension remained, only soothing when 239 repeated the actions after Dr. Haggar. “She’ll have to stay overnight if we need to do the sutures, and I’ll need you to sign a consent form for it.”

“That’s fine. Would you like me to sign a consent for actually doing the procedure as well?” He asked gently.

She nodded. “That would certainly help us streamline the process. And, since you are a referral from Pidge, we can throw in a flea bath for free, if you’d like,” She offered.

He seemed stricken by the offer before rebounding. “Y-Yeah, I’d really appreciate it,” He said gently.

Dr. Haggar nodded again. “Give me just a moment to get those forms. I’ll have Allura come take Vixie to the back for us in the meantime, so if you could get her back in her carrier, it’d be greatly appreciated,” She said before slipping back out of the room.

239 was silent as he returned Vixie to her carrier and watched Allura take her away before slumping into the seat beside Pidge. “Thank you, by the way,” He said softly.

Pidge blinked then tilted her head. “Thanks for what?”

“For calling me. For staying with Vixie. For bringing us here. For staying this whole time. For everything, really,” His shoulders slumped slightly and he shook his head. He turned to face her better, a small smile gracing his lips. “I… I just moved out here and I’m not particularly good at making friends. When Vixie got out, I was scared that no one would help find her since I haven’t really talked to anyone else in the complex. I mean, just yesterday I had to repost the flyer because someone else tore it down.”

“Well, then that just means they’re a dick. And my parents always told me to treat others how you would want to be treated, so, you know, you can thank them for me lending a hand, really,” She said, clearing her throat slightly to deflect from her slight embarrassment.  She wasn’t sure if it was the genuine gratitude in his voice or the fact that she was receiving a thank you at all that made her so embarrassed, but she could feel a bit of pink rising to her cheeks.

“Speaking of treating, I owe you for all the trouble. I get paid in a few days so I can give you some money for your help,” He offered.

She waved one hand at him dismissively. “Dude, don’t worry about it. I wanted to help out,”

“But I have to pay you back somehow,” He insisted with a small scowl.

What was this guy, a knight or something? Well, if he was going to twist her arm about it, she’d simply have to take him up. “Okay, then how about after we leave, you treat me to some pizza and breadsticks? I haven’t had dinner yet and that seems like a fair trade, don’t you think… Oh, what’s your name, by the way? I usually just refer to you by your apartment number, but that seems a little rude now,”

He snickered a bit at her derailing and offered her his hand. “If it makes you feel any better, I do the same thing. And my name’s Keith,”

She beamed at him and shook his hand eagerly. “Well, pleasure to meet you, Keith. Everyone calls me Pidge,”

[theletterunread]

Reflexes

This story follows Spooky and Execute.

All the way down Park Avenue, the sidewalks were empty and the shops were locked up. I assumed (correctly, I later learned) that there had been a police directive to get everyone off any streets above a subway line, in case of another attack. In the absence of any people or cars to look at or listen to, my sense of smell heightened, and I was hit by the disgusting aroma of Manhattan that greets all newcomers before they acclimate. Crossing the street to avoid a pile of garbage, I walked right through a waft of sour milk and dishwater.

Staggering back and forth, and eventually walking straight down the middle of the street, I suppose I cut a suspicious character, and a few faces peered out at me from within the buildings I passed. Nobody would let me in. I tried making the universal “phone gesture” with my thumb and pinky, but it didn’t get me anywhere. At 23rd street, a very tall woman on the other side of the street stuck her head out her door and yelled to me.

“What are you doing here?”

From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she was one of those people who lived in fear and liked it. A day like this was right up her alley. I tried to be as non-threatening as possible, but had little illusions about my chances. “I’m just looking for a phone I can use.”

She gave me the crook-eye. “This is a strange place to be looking for a phone.”

I took no satisfaction from being right, just moved on. “Have a nice day.”

This alarmed her as much as anything. She slammed the door, and I had a feeling she was going to call the police or Homeland Security or whomever and ID me as a suspect. I made a sudden left on 23rd and a right on Third Avenue to put some distance between us.

The sidewalks were just as empty here, but south one block I saw a pet shop with an open door. Inside I could hear voices, and when I rang the bell at the front desk, two women came out from some narrow aisle. They looked flushed and rattled, like I’d interrupted an intimate moment, and the conversation they were having was clearly improvised to suggest nonchalance.

“Take this compressed air,” said the store’s proprietress, handing a can to her customer, “and when your cat jumps up where he’s not supposed to be, blast him with this.”

“Yes,” said the customer, woodenly. “I will.”

“But you also need to give him positive affirmation when he does something right. If he brings you a dead mouse, you might think ‘gross’, but think about what he’s saying to you. He’s saying, ‘Stephanie, recognize me! I am cat!’ And he wants to share that with you. And if you react with ‘gross’, how will he feel?”

“Hmmm. Yeah, wow.”

“I am CAT!” The proprietress threw her arms up when she yelled this time, and I was starting to wish I’d found another shop. She turned to me. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, may I use your phone?”

“I know you,” interrupted Stephanie. “Where do I know you from?”

I looked at her closer and realized she was the army girl with the big eyes and bloodlust whom I’d talked to during my F train delay at the start of the day. I explained this to her, expecting a little delight at the coincidence, but she just said, “Oh,” and turned away.

“Who are you calling?” the proprietress asked me.

“My own cell. It’s lost. I want to see who picks it up.” I didn’t add that I was hoping it would be picked up by a little girl who I feared had been kidnapped along with a pop star. I didn’t feel like inviting questions.

She took a phone out from under the counter and pushed it over to me. As I dialed, they resumed their fake conversation.

“So, Anastasia…how do you know so much about cats?” asked Stephanie.

“I’ve always had a connection to animals. My family has a story…before I moved to the city, I lived, like, out in rural North Carolina, and I went deep into the woods one day, and my mom couldn’t find me. She got the whole family together to search and they found me playing with wolf cubs.”

I put my finger in my free ear, and pressed the receiver tighter to my other. I could still barely hear over this story, but it didn’t matter since nobody was picking up on the other end.

“And everyone was all scared, because it looked like they were attacking me, but they were just playing, like they would with any other cub. And I looked at my family like, ‘What’s everyone worried about?’”

I hung up the phone. Stephanie was shaking her head in awe. “That’s an amazing story.”

“I know. Everyone’s always all astounded by Timothy Treadwell, but I’m like, ‘I was doing that when I was six.’”

“Who’s Timothy Treadwell?” asked Stephanie.

“You don’t know who Timothy Treadwell is?” gasped Anastasia. “Oh my god, are you serious? I can’t believe that!”

I hate that conversational convention – the fake astonishment at a gap in somebody’s knowledge, the condescension disguised as uncontrollable surprise – and make a point to interrupt it whenever I see it in action. “Timothy Treadwell,” I explained to Stephanie, “was a guy who spent several summers living with grizzly bears in Alaska. He felt that he had a relationship with them, a bond. Until one day when a grizzly just up and ate him and his girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s sick!” exclaimed Stephanie.

“No, it isn’t!” said Anastasia, and flashed me an angry look. “They must have done something to make the bear feel in danger. Humans are always doing that. They probably hit the bear with a rake.”

“I don’t know if that happened,” I said, “but I agree it’s not ‘sick’. It’s just what happens. These are wild animals, he didn’t really have a relationship with them. Eventually nature asserted itself.”

“You don’t think humans and animals can be partners?”

If it seems improbable to you that I kept finding myself, everywhere I went, in philosophical debates, I can only wave my hand apologetically and assure you that I’m reporting my day exactly as it went. “I think we can have relationships with animals. But there’s always going to be some level of division. And I think it was delusional of Treadwell to think he could have a safe relationship with grizzly bears.”

“Well, people are always getting into and staying in human relationships that are bad for them. How is that any different?”

I was about to say that I thought that she’d made a good point, though not one that contradicted my position, when Stephanie’s phone chimed. “Oh! That must be…my boyfriend,” she said, again clearly improvising. “He probably wants to know what…cat stuff I’m getting.”

“Yes, well, let’s finish your shopping,” said Anastasia, leading her away again.

They were going to some lengths to keep me in the dark, which seemed pointless, as I didn’t care what they were up to, but if they wanted to play secret agent, I wasn’t going to bother them. I picked up the phone and dialed my cell again. The phone rang and rang and nobody picked up. But this time, without a loud conversation in my other ear, I was able to hear a buzzing coming from somewhere in the store in time with the ringing phone. I hung up, dialed again, and left the receiver on the counter as I followed the buzzing.

The store was bigger than it look on the outside, and one aisle looked more like a zoo than a pet store: a panther paced in one cage, and about 30 jellyfish blurbled around in a huge tank. The only empty cage was the one whose sign read, “Homer Chimpson.” I followed the buzzing to an alcove stacked high with dog food. Behind a layer of cans was an animal carrier covered with a blanket and bearing a sign reading “Beware of Dog!”

I yanked off the blanket and saw behind the carrier’s door my buzzing cell phone and a human being with her hands tied behind her back. She had a canvas bag over her head, but I recognized the miniskirt. It was Emma Fay.

“Step back from there,” came Anastasia’s voice behind me, and without giving me any time to accept the order, she pressed something cold and weighty into my back. I understood immediately, from a lifetime immersed in American culture, that it was a gun. And while I would like to tell you that my dominant emotion was impatience with the implausibility of somebody actually pulling a gun on me, I was mostly just scared. I already knew how little this woman valued human life.

Once, 15 years before, I came as close to death. I was part of a group of girls making lip-sync videos in and around our high school. We called ourselves The Agitated Muffins, after an Oscar Wilde line we’d all read and convinced ourselves was hilarious in that way that affected nerds do. We weren’t very terrific or anything, but we managed to keep up the output, and by our fifth video, I had developed a reputation as the stunt woman. (It started when I was the only one willing to drop from the courtyard balcony and be caught by the four girls who were going to take over the next verse of “Don’t Cha” from me.) For this video, I was to jump onto the back of a car and sing my stanza as the driver sped down the avenue. I secured myself by holding onto the car’s antennae. In my other hand, I was carrying the camcorder.

We rehearsed once or twice in the early morning when there were no cars on the road, but by the time we got to filming, traffic had picked up. What the other drivers thought when they saw a car pull in front of them carrying a 17-year-old on the back, I don’t know, but they weren’t alarmed enough to give us much space. So when the antennae snapped and I slid off the trunk and onto the asphalt, I only had about eight seconds before the oncoming Volvo would squish me under its front wheels.

There was no time to stand up – and it wouldn’t have done any good, since I would have still been in the path of the car – so I raised up on my butt in a half Navasana pose (if that helps you visualize) and kicked off against the camcorder which had handily landed near my feet. The slight recoil spun me around 90 degrees, leaving me parallel to the car’s direction. I flattened myself and the Volvo passed over me, the wheels not more than six inches to one side.

The other singers and I took a break to calm down and conceive of a less fraught alternate scene to put where my stunt would have been. The day’s mood was shot, but we resumed filming that afternoon, at my behest. I think now that I was afraid that if we stopped working, I would have to face what happened, and that would make me too scared to every try…not just performing, but too scared to try anything again.

(In the end, I didn’t do much more performing in my life. While filming the video after next, I overheard the rest of The Agitated Muffins making fun of me behind my back: “She never stops talking,” “Why does she do that hair thing every time she finishes a line? She has to stop.” Just usual teenage stuff, I suppose, and reading it, maybe you can’t see why it upset me. But feelings are the one thing in this world you must respect absolutely. I left the troupe and never participated in another video. But maybe I’ll wind up in another movie after all: I’ve had meetings with three separate studios interested in optioning my story – yes, before this book is even done. However little artistic integrity you imagine there is in Hollywood, you’re being too generous.)

The memory stayed buried for a long time, for just that reason: I didn’t want to seize up with fear from the past and miss the present. But when I felt the gun in my back, my brain, rapidly scanning for any pertinent experience, dredged up the whole story. And sure enough, I did seize up and miss the present. There’s a blank spot in my memory until Anastasia frogmarched me into the basement, Stephanie hoisting and struggling the animal carrier down behind us.

Half of the cellar was full of pet shop supplies, half full of firearms and explosives. There were small, cartoonish bombs that I recognized from Maxine’s destruction of Van’s studio. Anastasia led me into a corner, took my bag, and began riffling through it. “How do you know her?” she asked Stephanie once she’d made her way down.

“She was on the train this morning.”

“And she lived?”

“I guess.”

“What is she doing here? Were you followed?” She stopped short on pulling the Anne Wysie book from my bag, and went totally silent when she found the model of Bran’s Castle. She gawked. Stephanie came over and gawked too. “Why does she have this?”

“I got it from the artist’s studio,” I explained, thinking I could contribute something to the process. But Anastasia just shushed me with a wave of her gun.

“I don’t like this,” said Anastasia. “I don’t think she should be here. She was on the train, she’s got the model, Fay was carrying her phone…she’s working for someone, and she shouldn’t be here.”

“But maybe she’s on our side,” suggested Stephanie. “And if we kill her…”

Anastasia nodded and lowered her weapon. “We’ll keep her here while we take Hutton to The Gardener.” She grabbed a length of rope from one shelf and bound my hands behind my back.

“Who are you? What’s going to happen?” I pleaded. “Don’t do this! Why are you doing this to me?”

“From now on, no questions.” Stephanie put a canvas bag over my head, and turned to Stephanie. “You bring the car around. I’ll call The Gardener and tell her to expect us.”

As soon as they were up the stairs and I heard the door’s lock click, I slipped my hands out of the ropes. When I was kid, I read a chapter book whose title eludes me where a scientist-adventurer’s daughter escapes from being tied to a stake, and I still remembered her technique. Since my experience shows that it is actually worth it for the average, non-adventuring person to know how to escape from bondage, I’m happy to pass along the technique: while you’re being tied up, subtly flex your muscles and strain against the rope. (Asking your captor inane, terrified questions while they tie you up, to distract them from what you’re doing, was my personal addition to the strategy.) That way, when you relax, the rope will not be tight against you, and you will have room to wiggle out.

I pulled the bag off my head and released Emma from her cage. She gagged at the sight of me.

“You again?” she asked, unappreciatively.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. They put me in a box!”

“You think I got you kidnapped? Forget it, forget it,” I interrupted myself. Accuracy wasn’t important. “Where’s Fia?”

“Who?”

“The…the other person who was there! The little girl!”

“She was with me in van, and then they brought me in here and drove off with her…”

“To where?”

“I don’t know…to…the garden, they said.” There was no way that continuing to talk to Emma would be more informative than ignoring her and devising a new plan. I picked up one of the bombs from a shelf and tossed it between my hands while I paced. If Emma backed me up, I stood a chance of physically overpowering them. But the possibility of failure, or even of the gun going off accidentally was too catastrophic. Crawling back into my ropes and playing docile and cooperative might save me, but it wouldn’t save Emma. Without my intervention, Anastasia and Stephanie and whoever The Gardener was would kill her, and there was no way I could abdicate that responsibility. This was the opportunity that had been forced upon me, and I couldn’t morally refuse it.

It only made sense to crawl deeper into the lion’s mouth.

“Are they going to kill us?” Emma asked.

“Us? No.” I put the bomb in my bag and pulled out a sweater. “But here’s how you can get out. Let’s switch clothes. I’ll take your place.”

She looked me up and down. “Will they fit?”

“Yeah, we can…if you’re worried, you can stuff this sweater under your shirt.” I looked around the basement. “And this bag of catnip. In the dark that’ll be enough to look like you’re pregnant.”

She nodded and we quickly exchanged outfits. I think that this moment is what pushed my celebrity over the edge. My actions later that night were such that I’d have been hailed a hero no matter what I was wearing, but to uncover a conspiracy and stop a murder while wearing a Roy Lichtenstein mini was an irresistible visual image for the news and social media.

I tied Emma up, put sacks over both of our heads, and climbed into the dog carrier with my bag. A few minutes passed before Stephanie and Anastasia returned, which Emma filled by mumble-singing one of her hits. My thoughts, meanwhile, went to trying, for the first time, to be ahead of what would happen next. All day, I had been given a glance at a second New York operating below the surface of my city. I wasn’t so egotistical to think that it was anything but chance that put me in this position, but then, that’s a false metric. It’s never anything but chance that guides any of life. Where meaning comes in is in our ability to seize the momentum of chance when it passes our way. The train accident, the celebrity encounters, the secret passages, the unexpectedly dead, the unexpectedly alive, the wild animals…there was a pattern somewhere, but there was a lot of noise as well, a lot of flourishes that belonged to another story.

There was something important humming underneath the surface of this line of thinking, so I kept my focus upon it, even when our captors came back down, warned “me” to stay in the basement and not even think of escaping, and hauled my carrier up the stairs and into the back of a van. We drove for not more than five minutes before they stopped and hauled me out again. In fact, the elevator ride to the top of the new building was nearly as long as the car ride. It was an old, slow machine (through the pores of the bag on my head, I could see that we were on a freight elevator – the kind with those huge horizontal doors that you have to use a rope to slam shut) so I figured we didn’t go more than four or five stories.

At the top floor, Anastasia hauled me out of the carrier, while Stephanie breathlessly announced me. “Gardener, we’ve got Hutton.”

“You don’t have to use a code name,” was the reply. “I know who she is. She knows who she is. Why does she have a bag on her head?”

“So she wouldn’t know where she was.”

“Who cares if she knows? She’s about to die. Something like this just draws attention.”

This person whipped the sack off my head, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw that we were in an attic full of moving boxes. The scene set, my eyes began to focus on the person who’d unveiled me. I was face to face with Molly Petalmeadows. “You?” I asked reflexively.

“Me? How about you?” she shot back. “Who is this? Where’s Emma Fay?” Molly asked her lackeys.

“She was in the cage at the pet store,” gaped Anastasia. “This stupid bitch must have switched places.”

“What do you mean, stupid?” I asked. “I legitimately fooled you.”

Molly reached below her hem and pulled a small pistol out of an ankle holster. She pointed it at me, but kind of lazily. Her attention was more on the other two. “Why is she here?”

“She came into the store…” mumbled Stephanie. “We were hoping you might know…”

“I’m not here for any reason,” I explained. “I went in to use the phone, and found Emma in a cage. I don’t care about your…” I caught the word “murder” in my mouth. “Your conspiracy. I’m just looking for a little girl.”

There were tons of holes in this explanation, and I shouldn’t have been surprised that Molly picked it apart quickly. “Why would we know where your daughter is?” I didn’t answer. “She was the one… you two were there when we kidnapped Emma, weren’t you?”

“Uh…yes.” I conceded.

“You think I don’t see what’s going on? Everywhere you go, Emma Fay appears. Every time Emma Fay’s in danger, you turn up. And we’re supposed to believe you’re not involved?”

“You don’t have to believe anything,” I said, an old line that helps you get the upper hand in any argument. “I’m telling you how it is. I came to the pet store to use the phone to reach Fia.”

“And the doctor’s office? Why were you there?”

“I didn’t even want to be there! I was there because Dr. Shimin wasn’t in his office.”

“Right. Of everyone in the city, you just happened to go to that doctor. And as soon as we disappear him, you just happened to turn up.”

“You disappeared him?” I couldn’t believe I was using that sense of “disappear”. “Why?”

Now, of course, life isn’t like a movie, where you can get the villains speechifying and explaining everything. Nobody answered the question, since they thought I knew all this already and was just playing with them. I found out later that it was because Dr. Shimin knew that their leader was pregnant, and had suggested he might sell the news. And this gang believed that you couldn’t take over the world and be a mother. Well. I wonder what they think when they see where I wound up.

Anyway, as I say, they didn’t answer at the time. All that happened was Molly stepping a little closer with her gun.

“Okay, I guess I don’t care. But I’m telling you, these are coincidences, all,” I protested, with dripping impatience, but I was starting to get a little scared. Obviously, you know I’m going to survive, but in the moment, I genuinely wasn’t sure I would. A gang that wouldn’t hesitate to commit assassination or terrorist attacks wasn’t going to have compunction about killing me.

“Why don’t you stop jerking me around?” asked Molly. “What does Emma know?”

As proclaiming my innocence had only got me closer to a bullet in the brain, I decided to push back with a bluff, one rooted in a theory that had been brewing from the moment I recognized Stephanie. “She knows you blew up the F train.”

The women fell back a step, validating my guess. “How does she know?”

“I told her.”

Stephanie stomped the ground. “Fuck! You were on the train right before it got to the tunnel!”

“That’s right,” I said, stalling for time. “That’s right. I was there and…” At last, two pieces fit together. “You let the chimp loose on the tracks, diverting the train up to Penn Station. Where you’d planted the bomb.”

“Shit…” said Molly, lowering her gun fractionally. “Does she know about The Strand?”

“We all know about The Strand,” I said, bluffing with more confidence this time.

“It’s not what Root Beer wants,” said Anastasia, with a hand on Molly shoulder, “but we could just go back to the shop and kill Hutton now. It would still get it done.”

“Again,” said Molly, “you don’t have to use the code names. We all know who we’re talking about.” Of course, at that point, I didn’t know who Root Beer was. Even once I knew who it was, I didn’t understand the name’s meaning until it was explained in one of the New York Times articles detailing the conspiracy. I could tell you I figured it out myself, but I don’t need to exaggerate my accomplishments.

“Fine then,” sighed Anastasia, “let’s go back to the shop and kill Emma now.”

“And this one?” Molly inclined her head towards me. “Should we…”

“I don’t see why not,” said Stephanie. “Whoever she is, she knows too much.”

Molly cocked the hammer and pointed the gun at my head. I could tell you that in the moment that I faced death point-blank, I conceived of a great plan, but the truth is, I had thought of this minutes earlier.

I cringed away from the barrel of the gun. “Can’t I have one last request?”

“This isn’t death row,” said Molly.

“It’s nothing complicated,” I said. “I just want one last cigarette.”

“Aren’t you pregnant?” asked Anastasia.

“That hardly seems relevant now, does it?” I kneeled down and reached into the animal carrier for my bag. “Do any of you have a lighter?”

Anastasia handed me one and, still kneeling down, I used it to light the fuse on the bomb I’d swiped from the pet store basement and stashed in my bag. I stood up, chucked it at the women and took a flying leap towards the nearest window. The force of the explosion pushed me through the glass and I started falling.

Just as I had estimated, we were four stories up. It was a grander stunt than I’d ever done, but the techniques are the same whether you’re dropping ten feet or 40. I knew I’d land safely. “I am cat!” I thought to myself and laughed for, I think, the first time all day.

[mylastthoughts]

Leech and relationships

I moved to Victoria in 2009 to live with that person. They were my first exposure to nonbinary people. I thought I was still a man. I thought that being in a city would make finding work easy. My new partner was getting their sociology degree.

I didn't find anything. I spent my days on the computer applying for jobs and playing games to de-stress. I didn't receive a single callback my entire time there. The stress of being a failure once again broke me. Over time I gave up. My days were spent sleeping, crying, and distracting myself. I contributed nothing to the household, and eventually the stress of essentially being a caretaker for me on top of the stresses of school took a toll on my partner to the point of them becoming suicidal. I moved into a homeless shelter with no money, no resources, and no friends or family in the province. It was not an easy time, but if anything happened to my ex I'd have never forgiven myself. I guess I still haven't. During our breakup I lashed out and called them a cunt on Facebook. I deleted it after a second thought, but the harm was done. I can't forgive myself for that. I swore to become a better person, and worked hard. Kimi, I'm sorry. I wish I was a better person when we knew each other. You deserved so much better. From what little I've seen you've thrived in life, and I'm very relieved.

Eventually I got a hold of my sister and she arranged for me to fly back to Alberta. I spent a few months there, I even got a job interview. They kept asking if I had any disabilities. I told them none that would affect my performance. I didn't get the job.

I moved back to Manitoba, back into my abusive parents home. I spent years there, but I can remember so very little. Years later I decided to try dating again. I met Chantal online and we hit it off. I ended up cancelling our first date when I was already on the bus because a new friend told me they no longer wish to be friends with me. Thinking of it now, I think the times I met that friend were actually dates. This makes way more sense. Back to Chantal. Early in our relationship my father became more violent and I had to leave. Chantal and their father picked me up, and I lived in Chantal's room at their mothers for a bit. Us living together so early in our relationship because of my need to survive makes me feel guilty to this day. They were put in a position where they couldn't do anything but help. We got an apartment together soon after, and I still contributed nothing. Chantal had to take out a student loan for us to survive. We tried applying for financial assistance before, but I couldn't get disability because I was with them. They ended up dropping out of school and working entry level jobs to support us. I think this is also my fault. Their mental health also declined during our time together. I also think this is my fault.

Their father, Gaz, seemed like a very compassionate, progressive man while also being very buff. I got along with him very well. But one day unannounced he came over to yell at me. I don't remember much, I disassociate when yelled at, but I do remember him telling about how I'm a shitty man. I had been out as nonbinary before we met. It got so bad that Chantal yelled at him to leave. I assume Chantal told him something that made him so angry at me, so for them to come to my defense was surprising. This was never resolved as far as I know.

We adopted two wonderful cats, Min and Lars. Min was an aloof princess while Lars was a playful shit. Our place was an extremely messy place, it was clearly the home of two mentally unwell people. Our stuff was mostly second hand or the cheapest brand available.

Our entire suite was on one circuit which meant we'd lose power constantly and have to call for it to be turned back on.

We had a standing fan in our bedroom that broke. It wouldn't rotate anymore. I unplugged it because of its clicking. One night Chantal plugged it back in and it seemed to be fine, so I left it on one day when I went to the living room to play on the computer.

There was a power surge. The fan caught fire.

I grabbed the fire extinguisher. It didn't work. I pulled the fire alarm in the building. I started assembling the cat carriers while smoke got worse. I almost got one built. I grabbed Min. She was scared and got out of my grasp. The smoke was thick, the fire spread so much. I couldn't find them. I propped the door open hoping they'd run out to safety. They didn't.

I wish I died that day. I had Min in my fucking hands but didn't save her. I never forgave myself.

Nothing was salvaged. What few things I had I lost, again.

We moved into Chantal's father's basement. Gas and I never addressed what happened when he yelled at me. I just had to pretend to be okay being around a man who will turn transphobic when angered.

I don't think I left the bed the entire time we were there.

We found a new place back in my childhood neighborhood. It was wonderful. But more expensive. My inability to be useful didn't change. One day Chantal told me they were heading over to their fathers. I asked if it was because of me. It was. I remember scream sobbing when I was alone that I was supposed to be the one who suffers, not them. But I was the cause of more awfulness in another persons life. I never asked why Chantal wanted to break up. I just knew it'd be for the best. I despaired at the thought of being homeless in Winnipeg, but in the end a poly family offered me a room to rent in their basement. I got on disability finally, and for the first time in a decade I had income.

[8livescatrescue]

Regular readers will have heard mention of Stanlie, the stray on our doorstep.   He’s been there a while but his story hasn’t been fully told.  In truth it won’t be fully told now either –  As with most stray cats, the first chapters are completely unknown to us.

But lets start at what might be Chapter 5 of his life.  We took in a couple of adult female cats way back in January this year.  They hadn’t been spayed.  Although we arranged this asap it wasn’t before the hormones went out and there was an almighty cat fight in our front garden.  We went rushing  to see what was happening and try to break it up.  It was raining heavily and two cats were wrestling each other in the mud.  They were so filthy that I can’t be sure … but I think this was our first meeting with Stanlie.

If it wasn’t … Stanlie appeared on my drive a short while after.  He was dirty and limping and very scared of people.   I went out to ask him if he needed anything or would like to stay for tea.   His fear was more or less balanced by his hunger and he stood frozen to the spot trying to decide which was more pressing.  In the end we agreed that I’d put the bowl at the end of the drive and go safely indoors whilst he ate.

Stanlie the stray

We had a few days like this and then he disappeared.  I assumed he’d swiped right and gone off after another potential lady friend.  Then a couple of weeks later my neighbours mentioned a cat that had been in their garden looking a bit shifty and asked if I’d seen it.   He was back.

We did the usual search on social media and lost and found sites.  No one looking for him, and no one answering the “does anyone know this cat?” posts.  He gradually became more of a regular.  Rather than just stopping by every few days for a meal, he’d drop round for tea every evening.   The resident cats would call out when he arrived and I’d nip out to feed him.  Then he got the hang of my changing shift patterns and would be waiting on the drive for me.   Gradually it came to be that he was there for breakfast too. Then he susssed that the residents always had chicken treats a little while after they’d had their tea … so he’d hang around after his tea for ‘pudding’.

recycle box to keep food dry

At first it wasn’t very nice outside to spend time with him, but as the days got warmer it was comfortable to sit outside on the front step and feed him treats and chat.  Then it was possible to confirm what we’d suspected .. no microchip.  As the summer reached its hottest it was lovely to come outside in an evening to chill a bit and spend time with him.   He grew in confidence so he’d eat next to me and take treats from my hands, and let me stroke him and even pick him up.  He learned to trust my neighbours … not naturally cat lovers … but lovely enough to care about him and protect him.  He spent so much time in one spot on their lawn that it went yellow the way pitched tents yellow the grass over a long weekend.

waiting for breakfast

closer to the door

All the time of course we’re thinking what’s best to do.  Obviously he needs neutering but we had nowhere indoors to keep him safe after his op.  Couldn’t just put him outdoors straight away, and what if it scared him and he ran away and then didn’t have anyone feeding him?  Needed space to get him in.  If you’ve followed the blog you’ll know which cats managed to get ahead of him in the endless game of Lifeboat that is cat rescue.

practising coming in and shutting the door

If I’m honest I was also anxious about depriving him of his liberty.  How could I justify it being a better life stuck in a small room when outside it was warm and sunny and we were feeding him?  A good argument would be to stop an unneutered cat going after female cats … but all he was doing was camping in the neighbour’s garden waiting for his next meal.  What if I tried to trap him and didn’t manage it and it just scared him away?

As the weather turned cooler and wetter my guilt about dragging him indoors was replaced by concerns about leaving him out.  I came straight home from taking Harold to his new home, cleaned his bedroom and got Stanlie indoors.

inside looking out

and back in

We’d thought it might take a trap to get him.  However we’ve practised coming into the house for chicken treats over a few weeks, and even practised having the door shut.  That’s what happened on Monday … then we scooped him up in the carrier that had come back from Harold’s new home.

I didn’t expect it to be an easy transition.   Stan has usually hissed … out of habit almost … when he first sees me, even though he’s been shouting for me to come to feed him, and is waiting for me to put the food in his bowl.  I was upset to see how put out he was to be indoors.  He hissed and scrowled like I’ve not heard since the big cat fight back in January.   He ate something which was good.  But refused the chicken I offered.  I think he may have vowed never to eat chicken again since that’s what got him into this mess.

refusing chicken

Overnight he sang a long low lament for the damp spot under the hedge where he used to sleep.  Did I say it was a looooong lament?  Did I say it was bl@@dy endless and did I mention that his bedroom is right next to mine?

On Tuesday we managed to get an appointment at the vets.  I’d not anticipated it being easy to get him into the carrier.  I’d not quite anticipated this.

impressive but stressful 😉

The thought of having to repeat the process to have him neutered was seriously daunting.  Amazingly they were able to keep him, neuter, chip, start vaccs, health check and pick up an hour later!  They really are awesome.  Hugely relieved to get all that done.  Surprised to learn that the limp he had wasn’t arthritis as we’d suspected.  It seemed to have come and gone and been a bit difficult to pin down over the summer.  I’d wondered if the warm weather was helping it.  It turns out he has dermatitis on his hands and feet.  I’ve never got close enough to see the pads of his feet.  Poor lad.  Must be so sore.  He’s had bloods take to try to find out more about why he’s having this problem.

waiting room

and consult

He spent Tuesday night lamenting the loss of other things.  So another night with no sleep.

And the next couple of nights followed a similar pattern with him sitting in his bedroom loudly accusing me of having ruined his life whilst I laid in bed sleepless and guilty.   When I went in to him he’d sit hiding and looking miserable, refusing to come out for food whilst I was there.

This evening I’ve gone in and offered turkey … I’m tactful enough to not offer chicken again just yet … and things have definitely changed.  He hissed a little but then jumped down from his perch and came to eat more and be stroked and snuggled.

Who knows when we might sleep again.

Stanlie – a long tail Regular readers will have heard mention of Stanlie, the stray on our doorstep.   He's been there a while but his story hasn't been fully told.