#cuddle with me and put its tiny paw on my eyes and meow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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𝑫𝒂𝒅! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑩𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝑾𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝑪𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

"What is it? You wanna come out of confinement?"

Hongjoong picked up his baby son and held him for a few seconds.

"I know. You must be bored to death in that thing."

Hongjoong was surprised when he started crying even harder than before. He gently rocked the boy in his arms.

"Are you hungry? Want me to get your bottle?"

Hongjoong quickly dashed into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle. He tried feeding it to him, but the baby swatted the bottle away with such force, it ended up spilling all over the floor. Hongjoong groaned in frustration as he tried to calm the crying baby down.

"Y/N.......please get here already..." He whined, a small pout on his face.

Sighing he went back inside the living room and put the baby back in his play pen, which of course made him whine and wriggle more. Hongjoong went over to the piano on the corner. It was the last idea he had so he began playing a soft lullaby on the piano. As soon as the baby heard the first notes, his crying ceased and instead he made low guttural sounds as he began calming down from his crying fit.

Hongjoong kept playing 2 more songs until he looked over and saw that his son was already fast asleep. He finished the last song and walked over to see his son sleeping like a little angel, a fond smile on his face.

"Who would have thought you loved music just like me?"

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

You were whining at this point.

"Sweetheart please! Just eat the food."

Your baby daughter once again refused to open her mouth as you placed the spoonful of puree in front of her. With a loud squeal she slapped it out of your hand, tossing the spoon and the mushy content onto the table in front of you both. You let out a groan as your hands clutched your head, feeling like you were about to break down like her at any minute.

As if on cue, Seonghwa came in and immediately rushed over to the kitchen when he heard your daughter's crying.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he scanned her all over.

"I don't know! She won't eat her food and I'm just tired at this point!" You didn't mean to come off so angry, but you were beyond frustrated.

Seonghwa understood and simply helped you up. He gave your nose a tender kiss and hugged you briefly.

"Here. Let me try."

He took the space you previously occupied and looked at your daughter. He smiled at her and began doing cutesy signs at her, varying from hearts to bunny ears. Once he began using his aegyo voice, the baby began calming down, now only sniffling softly. Seeing an opportunity, Seonghwa picked up the spoon and scooping up more puree, he successfully managed to get her to start eating.

"Seriously?!" You were indignated but Seonghwa chuckled.

"I told you she would be daddy's girl."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Although his son was crying on the top of his lungs for several minutes now, Yunho still had a smile plastered on his face.

"There there. Calm down kiddo. Mommy will be here soon."

That answer didn't seem to satisfy the infant, who only began crying harder, making Yunho pout.

"Well dang, do you really miss her that much?"

Taking a peek out the window and seeing that it was not cloudy, Yunho picked up the baby bag and grabbed his keys. Making sure to lock the door, he carried his son all the way into the car and strapped him into the baby seat in the back. As soon as Yunho started the car, the baby stopped screaming, although he kept spilling out tears. Once they were further on in the road, he stopped crying and his eyes struggled to keep open. Yunho looked at him from the rearview mirror and chuckled.

"Maybe that documentary I watched was correct. Babies do fall asleep in car rides."

Yunho decided to turn on the radio for a little while, which only helped to make the baby fully fall asleep in no time. Even after he had parked in front of the office building, the baby still stayed asleep. When you came out, Yunho immediately got out of the car and opened the back door.

"Did you get here early?" You asked.

Yunho sighed softly before getting the sleeping baby out.

"Well if I didn't, he would have continued crying his eyes out from missing you too much."

He carefully handed you the baby, who squirmed around before opening his eyes. The instant he saw you, his eyes lit up and he stretched his arms out to touch your face, making you giggle at how adorable your baby was.

"Mommy missed you too." You kissed his tiny nose.

Yunho frowned.

"I missed you too. Where's my kiss?"

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

You were both woken up when your baby daughter started crying.

"Yeosang." You called out.

"Mmmm?" He mumbled.

"It's your turn." You said.

He merely let out an inaudible groan.

"I took care of her yesterday. It's your turn."

Realizing he was right, you got up and went over to the adjoining room to yours. Picking up your daughter, first you made sure her diaper didn't need changing. Then you held her up to your chest, thinking she was hungry. But it was none of them since she kept crying and crying. You gently rocked her in your arms, even singing a soft lullaby to her, but she just began wailing even harder.

"Yeosang!" You cried out.

Huffing softly, he sat up and made his way to the nursery with slow, tired steps.

"Ok give me her. Let's see what's wrong."

He cooed at her softly and as soon as the little girl was in her father's arms and heard his voice, she immediately stopped crying.

"That was easy." He smiled proudly.

He tried setting her back down on her crib, but just as soon as she felt his hands off her, her crying resumed, this time harder than before.

"Ok! That's not going to work."

Picking her up again, once more she stopped crying and instead nestled herself in Yeosang's embrace. You both looked at each other in disbelief. Yeosang couldn't help but snort.

"She loves me better than you."

Not in the mood or headspace for his jokes, you lifted your hand up to hit him but immediately put it down.

"Let's just go back to sleep."

You both crawled back into bed, Yeosang being a little more careful as he adjusted himself so the baby could properly sleep in his arms.

"This better not become a daily thing." You said as you closed your eyes.

Not missing the opportunity even in his exhausted state, Yeosang teased:

"If you don't like it, you could always sleep on the couch."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San waved the rattle in front of the crying baby's face.

"Look! It makes noise! Don't you wanna play with it?"

The baby only smacked it with his hand, making San step back.

"Well damn son, a simple no would have sufficed."

Not about to give up, he picked up a cat headband and placed it on his hand before shamelessly doing aegyo in front of his son.

"Would you please stop crying for your dad? It makes him sad to see you cry."

When the baby continued crying, San began to whine loudly.

"What's wrong?! Speak to me! What do you want?! What will it take for you to stop crying?!"

Unable to take anymore noise, Byeol woke up and sauntered over to where all the commotion was. Her tiny paw latched onto San's pant leg as she began meowing at him.

"Not now Byeol. I'll feed you once I calm him down."

San was busy making funny faces to hopefully get his son to laugh that he didn't realize Byeol had climbed into a play pen until she jumped right next to the crying baby.

"Whoah! What the- Byeol! Get out of there immediately!"

The feline however ignored him and began rubbing her body against the baby, her soft purring and silky fur proving in aiding to help the baby calm down. The baby wrapped its tiny arms around her neck and Byeol didn't mind when he began cuddling her like one of his plushies, instead placing a paw on his tiny hand to keep him from squeezing too hard. San was stunned though as he watched them slowly drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

"You mean a cat knows how to take better care of my own son than me?"

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi was on the verge of breaking down.

"I've fed you, I've changed your diaper and even made a fool of myself by doing aegyo, what more do you want from me?!"

Mingi poked his bottom lip out as he held his crying daughter up, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He then gasped.

"Oh my god! What if you're sick?!"

Mingi quickly rushed over to the bathroom to look for the thermometer. He let out a scream when he couldn't find it that only served to agitate the baby more, causing her to start crying harder.

You quickly ran towards the sound of the crying once you came back from work.

"What did you do?!" You yelled causing Mingi to whimper.

"I swear I did nothing! She just won't stop crying! I didn't mean to break our baby!"

You sighed and quickly took the baby from him. Noticing how the baby kept shaking her head and her hands were flying in all directions, you guessed something was bothering her. You took a chance and opted for taking off the beanie she was wearing. Once your daughter felt the beanie taken off, she stopped screaming, although now she just sniffed slightly.

"Oh my poor baby. Was your hat too tight on that not so tiny head of yours?"

Mingi was stunned that a stupid article of clothing was the whole reason for the ordeal to drag on. You gently placed kisses on the top of your daughter's head, trying to soothe her pain. Then you turned your attention to Mingi who had a look of disappointment and sadness in his eyes.

"Hey come on now. It's a learning process. She is our first child after all." You reminded him.

Mingi nodded and accepted when you handed the baby over to him so you could go get changed and wash up. Mingi began making funny faces at his daughter, who immediately began squealing and giggling at him.

"That's what I like to see. A happy babygirl who loves her daddy so much."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Wooyoung grunted as he once again went back to the living room to go attend to his son who was in his baby blue jumperoo.

"Ok what now?" Wooyoung asked the crying infant.

Contrary to what most people expected, Wooyoung's son definitely cried a lot, but he never screamed or full on wailed. He mostly just whimpered or let out tiny sobs whenever he was upset. Wooyoung sighed.

"Buddy, I know you can't actually talk, but I need you to help me out here."

Wooyoung spun and shook some of the toys surrounding the jumperoo in an effort to make his son stop crying, but it didn't work. The little boy just kept looking up at his father with teary eyes and pouty lips.

"Don't give me those sad eyes, please! What is it you want?"

Wooyoung leaned his face in, looking straight in his son's eyes. Stretching his arms out, the baby began making grabby hands towards Wooyoung's face.

"Ohh....I get it now."

Wooyoung immediately picked up the baby and held him. Placing a kiss on his head, he went back to the kitchen to check on the food. Although he had trouble maneuvering himself while holding a baby, he nonetheless managed to make sure the food didn't burn or turn out gross.

"No, unfortunately you can't eat some of my delicious food yet." Wooyoung said when his son pointed to the pot on the stove.

Wooyoung decided to have a tiny conversation with his son as he finished cooking, of course the baby didn't reply or made any sign that he was actually listening to him. The only sound he made was a tiny squeak when he saw you come in, making Wooyoung turn to see you.

"Welcome home Mrs. Jung. Care to join us this evening for supper?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho came in the house, surprised to see that you were still awake.

"Baby? What are you doing up?"

When you turned to him and he saw the weeping baby in your hands, he let out a soft 'oh.'

"How long has she been crying?" He asked.

"10 minutes. I don't know what to do. She's fed, changed and she simply won't go to bed."

Noticing how you looked exhausted, Jongho took the girl from your care.

"Go to bed honey. I'll take care of her."

Jongho gently rocked her in his arms, shushing her slightly before opting for a new method. He began singing a lullaby to her, his sweet honey voice helping her relax and cease her crying. Slowly, her eyes began to shut and open before eventually drifting off to sleep. Carefully, Jongho placed her inside her crib, tucking her under her pink blanket. He chuckled before poking her nose.

"Good night my little princess."

He went inside your room and noticed that you too were fast asleep. Going over to your side, he kissed your forehead.

"And good night my beautiful queen."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez dad au #dad!au #dad!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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peppers-writing · 3 years

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Robot Vampire

CatShifter!Jaskier and poor Advice Columnist/Witcher Geralt

Tags: nudity but in a casual oh yeah i’m naked oh well let’s cuddle, fluff, humor

Written for flashfic whoo; thank you to @resident-beekeeper, @astaticworld, @king-finnigan, and @the-third-bard for helping me out w/ this one.

On A03 here.

“Stop it.”

The ball of fur writhes furiously by his hand.

“Jaskier, I said stop.” Geralt wonders how life keeps throwing him the slimiest, most rotten of bones.

“Ow! Fuck, no biting!” Jaskier snaps his jaw and turns away to curl in on himself. Geralt goes back to typing. The article’s due by the weekend and it sadly will not write itself. When he’d signed up to be a journalist, Geralt’d figured they’d just have him writing the monster and or pet forum. Easy work.

Sadly, he’d been hired as an advice columnist, an agony aunt. Even sadder, Jaskier refuses to turn back into his human form today.

He’s distracted by a soft paw rubbing against the back of his hand. Pitiful, pitiful eyes look up at him, ears flattened and oh no. Geralt takes a deep breath and steels himself. “No, I already gave you all of my salami.”

Jaskier gives him the dirtiest look with his startling blue eyes and Geralt makes a note to check his shoes for surprises before he puts them on. He shifts on the bed, sitting with his legs criss-crossed underneath him.

His flatmate... Geralt should’ve known. The rent was too cheap and the ad was only looking for nonhumans. Geralt should have known, but Lambert had done a background check and he hadn’t said. It’s no excuse; Geralt should’ve known that there was something up with the shit-eating grin on Lambert’s face when he’d given him the go ahead.

The ginger cat burrows under his wrist, tail flicking idly as he reads what Geralt’s got on his screen. Jaskier adores Geralt’s job, the dirty drama he gets on a daily basis soothes his flea-ridden soul.

This week’s question is an especially wonderful one.

Dearest White Wolf,

My partner is a doppler. I, of course, have no problem with this— I love them with my entire being, I could wax poetic on their beauty, inner and out. But dating a doppler does come with its issues. Namely, I keep forgetting their latest face. Now, it’s a spooky thing waking up to a face you don’t know. I thought I was giving them a kiss good morning, but when I opened my eyes, it was a face I’d never seen and I yelped before promptly falling off the bed.

Now, my partner won’t stop laughing at me for it. They take one look at me before bending over in laughter. They’re beautiful when they laugh, I love them incredibly, but I would like to cuddle them without having them shake in barely-contained laughter behind me. Just for one night.

Please advise, Wolf. I await your answer.

Yours,

Touch-Starved

Jaskier yowls from beside him, clicking his teeth at the screen where Geralt has one awful sentence written.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that.

Thank you,

White Wolf

The cat chitters at his reply, no doubt adding embellishments and cooing over the nature of Touch-Starved’s relationship but it’s in Cat and Geralt, luckily, does not speak it.

“Will you shut up if I give you scritches?” Jaskier yowls before tilting his chin up. His tiny head presses into Geralt’s giant hand as he pets his flatmate. He continues to type with his left hand with his friend successfully distracted.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that. Take a picture of their face

Thank you,

White Wolf

His hand is very suddenly attacked by a blur of orange and claw.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that. Take a picture of their faceakdfhadsf

Thank you,

White Wolf

Geralt is a monster hunter by profession (the writing’s a side job, to pay the rent and the like) so he does not yelp. When Jaskier will inevitably make fun of him later, he will deny it because he is a monster hunter by profession and Jaskier’s accusations are untrue because he did not yelp.

He picks Jaskier gently, cupping his legs and furry ass as he brings him to face level. “You’re a bastard,” he tells him, voice even, “Please let me work, bastard man.” Jaskier, impossibly, rolls his eyes and hops out of his hands and onto his head. He makes a nest of it and settles down comfortably. Geralt rolls his own eyes and turns back to his work, praying for a text from Vesemir. Where was a kikimora-that-wants-to-eat-you when he needed one?

The document stares at him.

Dear Touch-Starved,

I am sorry to hear that. Take a picture of their face. Set it onto the lock-screen of your phone.

Thank you,

White Wolf

He stares back. Jaskier’s tail brushes against his ear. It’s good enough, time to move onto the next one. It’s a miracle they pay him for this shit; something about his straightforward, gruff answers keep his readers entertained.

Jaskier meows from his perch, before hopping down onto his lap. “What, am I not giving you enough attention?” He scratches behind his friend’s ear and rubs his hand down his back and up his tail. “I don’t know why I put up with you, stinky bastard man. You're an awful, stinky bastard man, I don't know why I do.” The shapeshifter yowls and pounces on him; Geralt very suddenly finds himself flat on the bed with a naked Jaskier on his chest, scowling down at him.

“I do not smell!”

Geralt throws his head back and stares at the ceiling, contemplating his life briefly. He looks up again at his friend, his brown hair mused and his blue eyes annoyed. “You’re awful, get off of me.”

“Not until you admit I don’t smell! I may be a small furred animal at times, Geralt,” he pokes a finger into Geralt’s breastbone none too gently, “but I do not smell.”

Geralt groans, long-suffering. “You’re right. You don’t, now get off of me.” Jaskier looks at him a moment longer.

“No, I don’t think I will.” His eyes shine. He lays down, resting his cheek against Geralt’s chest, and settles in. “It's quite warm here.” Geralt could push him off if he wanted to. He considers it briefly and doesn't.

“You’d be warmer if you put clothes on.” Jaskier peers up at him, brows scrunched before his face smoothes out as if just now realizing the feeling of his air-chilled iron nips press against Geralt's chest. He contemplates, shrugs, and settles in again.

Geralt flutters his eyelids in annoyance even if he doesn’t mean it much, and pulls his duvet over to cover his friend. He closes his laptop with his big toe and wraps his arms around his friend’s waist.

Jaskier makes a happy noise and snuggles into the warmth.

The doppler issue can wait until tonight. Geralt shifts and settles in for an afternoon nap with his dumb shifter friend.

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt #the witcher #the witcher fic #My writing

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lovemeleo · 3 years

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Cat Dads

Well, I’m finally back. Hope you all are doing well! This idea popped into my head out of nowhere. It’s the third part to my Nuny fic where Jackson gets injured. I’ll link those two fics below! This is completely un-beta’d so I apologize for any errors. These amazing characters belong to the always fantastic @lumosinlove.

- Ignite Your Bones

- Love You Through It

***

There is no way to explain the sweet relief of seeing your leg again after 8.5 weeks of it being covered by a cast.

Zhenya’s nose crinkled when he saw Jackson’s leg, “You have skin. Like fish.” And honestly he wasn’t wrong. Jackson had made the same face when the cast was fully removed but it’s apparently normal.

“Scales, babe. And my skin’s just dry. The doctor said it should flake off though, like in the shower.” Jackson said, fixing the boot back over his jeans. Zhenya’s English was really good, but there were some words that he still didn’t know just because it didn’t come up in conversation. Like scales.

Zhenya picked him up from the doctor’s office and now they were on their way to get lunch, which was apparently a surprise. Jackson had been asking since before they left for the appointment but Zhenya was holding strong.

He thought it might be the pasta place they both loved that was down the street from the rink, but Zhenya drove right by that as well. Actually, he drove all the way out of Gryffindor.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going yet?” Jackson asked, looking out the window to see if he could possibly guess. To be completely honest, he didn’t really know the area very well. For as long as they’d lived here, they didn’t tend to leave Gryffindor too often.

Zhenya gave him an exasperated look as he drove, “I tell you, it’s not surprise. We’re almost there anyway, котенок. So impatient.” He muttered, though the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile as his boyfriend grumbled next to him.

Not long after, a smile appeared on Zhenya’s face as he turned into a parking lot, “Okay, котенок. We’re here.”

Jackson was looking out the window as soon as they turned into the lot, his eyes on the sign. It read ‘Cats in Cups’ across the sign with a cute little picture of a kitten in a coffee mug.

His head whipped to look at Zhenya who couldn’t help the giant grin that had spread on his face, “A cat cafe?” Jackson said, unable to help the childlike excitement that seeped into his voice. He had always loved cats. When he was a kid, they always had at least two or three in their house.

“Surprise!” Zhenya said, as he pulled into a spot. “Good surprise, yeah? I bring my котенок to see all the little котенок.” As soon as he put the car in park, Zhenya was pulled in for a deep kiss.

Jackson smiled into the kiss, his hands on either side of Zhenya’s face as he pulled away, “A great surprise, babe. Thank you.” He murmured, leaning in to give him a quick peck before opening his door. Zhenya quickly ran over to his boyfriend’s side of the car, helping him get out.

Putting pressure on his foot again was weird, a bit achy, but it was nice to be able to walk without crutches, “Let’s go see some kitties.” Jackson said, a giddy smile spreading on his face as they made their way inside.

The cafe was empty other than the worker behind the counter when they stepped in, Jackson’s eyes quickly flitting over the room to all of the cats. There were around fifteen or so, some wandering around while others were sprawled on tables or cat trees. It was practically heaven.

A younger woman stood behind the counter, her name tag on the red apron reading Jaz. “Welcome to Cats in Cups!” She said, a wide welcoming smile on her face as she glanced down at a clipboard on the counter in front of her. “My name is Jaz, and I’m gonna guess that you’re Evgeni and Jackson?”

Zhenya nodded, “Yes, that’s us. You can just call me Kuny.” He said as they walked up to the counter.

“Well, welcome! We can get your order in and then you guys can play with the cats.” She said, checking them off on the list.

Looking up at the menu, they both ordered different lattes to try before finding a spot to sit. Jackson plopped himself right in the middle of the carpeted floor, stretching his left leg out as he watched all the cats watch them.

As Zhenya sat down next to him, a small gray kitten found its way into Jackson’s lap. Trailing a gentle hand down the kitten’s back, Jackson smiled, “What’s this one’s name?” He asked, glancing up to where Jaz was carrying over their drinks.

Glancing down at the small ball of fluff, she smiled, “That’s Milo, he’s a scottish fold.”

Milo began making his way up Jackson’s chest, tiny paws carrying him up to cuddle into his shoulder. Zhenya quickly snuck a picture as the small kitten nuzzled into his boyfriend’s neck.

Just as he was tucking his phone away, a large fluffy orange cat nudged at his hand, meowing at him indignantly. Zhenya couldn’t help but laugh as the cat rubbed up against his leg, “Hello there.” He murmured, carefully picking the cat up and cradling her in his arms like a giant baby.

Jaz laughed as she set down their drinks, watching as the giant men turned into puddles of soft at the sight of cats, “It seems Pumpkin has taken a liking to you.”

“I have taken liking to Pumpkin too.” Zhenya said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The cat practically vibrated out of his arms, purring so dramatically.

At this point, Jackson had collected another cat in his lap. Milo was still nuzzled into his neck but in his lap was a massive black cat. Zhenya thought Pumpkin was big but oh my goodness, the black cat definitely had her beat.

Evgeni reached over, letting the giant cat sniff him before gently scratching behind his ears, “He’s so big.” He murmured, watching as he flopped back onto Jackson’s lap.

“Yeah, that’s Loki, our god of mischief. He’s a maine coon with a habit of knocking drinks over as well as chairs. He normally sprawls across our front counter.” Jaz said with a laugh as she made her way back to the counter.

Jackson’s face lit up as he reached down to pet the giant cat, “Loki’s one of my favorite Marvel characters!” Loki leaned into his touch, a deep purr coming from his chest.

Leaning onto the counter, Jaz smiled, “Well, keep in mind: all of our cats are adoptable. It’s a three day process because we give them an veterinary exam and a cleaning, and everything. But then you could take them home.” She said before going back to work, unaware of the wide-eyed looks the two men shared.

“We could get cats!” Jackson said, almost scaring both cats off of him. He quickly murmured soft apologies into their fur, holding them both close. Milo climbed down off his shoulder into his lap, curling up on top of Loki. Neither of them could help back the soft “aw” as Zhenya took another picture.

Upset at the lack of attention, Pumpkin swatted her paw at Zhenya’s hand and let out what could only be equivalent to a heavy sigh. He couldn’t help but laugh as he started petting her again, “So sorry, милашка.” He murmured before glancing up at Jackson again. “You want cat?”

Jackson nodded, unable to stop watching his boyfriend cuddle the orange fluff, “Yeah… yeah I really do. If it was a possibility, I would adopt all of these cats.” He said, gently petting the pile of cats in his lap.

They were both quiet for a while, enjoying their drinks, the cats as well as each other’s company. Just as Jackson took a sip of his coffee, Zhenya turned to him as he held Pumpkin closer.

“Let’s keep them.”

Jackson choked a bit, wiping the coffee that had fallen from his mouth before looking at Zhenya, “W-what? Keep?”

The other man was already nodding, his face hidden by Pumpkin’s fur, “Don’t want to leave her. Or them. We keep them all. Take them home. C’mon, котенок!”

Jackson didn’t need him to beg. Honestly, he hadn’t even needed Zhenya to ask because as soon as these cats had crawled on top of him, he knew he couldn’t leave them behind, “Alright. Alright, yeah. Let’s keep them.”

You would’ve thought they’d won the lottery with the way Zhenya’s face lit up. And Jackson, being the smitten bastard he was, couldn’t help but smile right back at him.

“We need supplies.” Zhenya said, quickly pulling his phone back out.

Jackson couldn’t help his little happy dance as he held onto the cats in his lap, “Just order it and we can have it delivered to the house.” Zhenya nodded as he ordered everything he could find on the pet store website that they’d need. Litter boxes, food, toys, beds and towers.

“Jaz! We need paperwork!” Zhenya said, looking up from his phone.

A big smile lit up her face as she grabbed some paperwork from behind the counter, “I had a feeling we’d need some paperwork, so I started filling it out. Which one are you planning to adopt?”

Jackson smiled, gently running his hand over Loki’s back, “We’d like all three actually.”

Her eyebrows went up in surprise, but if possible, her smile got exponentially bigger, “All three? Oh that’s fantastic.” She quickly grabbed more paperwork and they all started filling it out, one of them filling out each form.

It took around 20 minutes, but they were finally done. They were going to be cat dads.

Jaz smiled, stapling together all the papers before she looked up at the guys, “Alright, you two. We just have to do their exams and such, as well as speak to your references, but you should be able to bring them home in two days!”

They both shook her hand, the giant smiles still stuck on their faces, “Thanks so much for your help, Jaz.”

“Of course, I’m so happy you guys came in and that some of our cats are finding their forever homes with you.” She said with a smile. Both boys gave their last cuddles to the cats before it was time to go.

Jackson pressed a kiss to the top of Milo’s head, “We’ll be back for you three.”

Leaving the cafe was hard, especially when Loki tried to follow them out but they eventually made their way out to the car.

Before they got into the car, Jackson pulled Zhenya to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as he leaned into the taller man’s chest, “I love you.” He said softly, his hands making their way around Zhenya’s waist.

“I love you. Always.” Zhenya murmured, holding Jackson close.

Getting to bring their cats home was one of the best days they’ve had. The cats were a bit skittish with being in a new environment but by bedtime, they had really calmed down. All three cats joined the two men on their bed. Milo curling up on Jackson’s pillow, Pumpkin sprawled on Zhenya’s stomach with Loki stretched across the foot of the bed.

As they all got comfortable, Jackson couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend, squeezing the hand that was intertwined with his, “I’m so happy to be a cat dad with you, babe.”

Zhenya pressed a kiss to the other man’s knuckles, “You and I, Best cat dads. Always.”

#nuny #jackson nadeau #Evgeni Kuznetsov #lumosinlove #fluff #sweater weather #zhenya #nado #kuny #cats #cat dads #fic #fic writing #no beta

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Curiosity Killed The Cat | Owen Patrick Joyner

Requested: Yes/No

Hi! I was wondering if you can do an Owen imagine kinda based off his Instagram story of him finding a cat. I was thinking he’d actually find the missing cat though and come ring your doorbell at 4am bc he’s chaotic. You can decide everything. Thank you in advance!!!

A/N: The cat doesn’t actually die in this, it’s just a saying that i liked for the title, so don’t worry! It’s got a happy ending!

Pairing: Owen x Fem!Reader

Song(s) used: none

Warnings: none

Words: 3,949

A week. It had been exactly one week since y/n last saw her cat, Tunabean. The white, grey striped Ragamuffin cat had been absent from y/n’s apartment for way longer than she normally would be and it worried y/n to the point where she’d be out looking for the little rascal every night after work.

“Found her yet?” Jamila asked as she entered y/n’s apartment after coming home from work.

Jamila was y/n’s roommate and best friend since college. The two had lived together through their college career and decided to be roommates after too, as long as neither had significant others to go live with.

“No,” y/n’s lip stuck out into a pout as she feverishly reposted the message on all her social media platforms. “People have been tearing down my posters as well. Did you see the ones near Andrews Park? They were torn to shreds!”

Jamila pulled her lips into a tight smile before putting her bags on the dining room table and joining y/n on the couch. “Yeah, I saw. I’m really sorry, y/n. If you want, we can go and put up some more posters? Exchange the torn up ones with some fresh ones?”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course! Sweetie, I’d do anything to get little Bean home, you know that, right?” y/n nodded her head in response, though she wasn’t sure if she knew that.

Jamila wasn’t the biggest fan of Tunabean at first. She hated cats. Growing up, she’d always had a dog but never a cat. She didn’t trust the little rascals for one second. So, when y/n showed up with little Tunabean after having had what felt like the worst week of her life, Jamila was a tiny bit angry. But eventually warmed up to Tunabean when the little kitty seemed so placid, you could easily cuddle up to it on the sofa.

“Let’s go find Zach at his work, bribe him to print me more posters for cheap, hang ‘em up around town and then maybe Tino’s?” Jamila’s eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite restaurant.

She snapped her fingers and pointed finger guns at her best friend. “Sounds like a plan!” she said and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. It was a cold November day and no person could leave their house consciously without being bundled up into layers and layers of clothing.

“I hope Bean didn’t hide under a car and the owner didn’t tap the hood before getting in…” y/n muttered, her voice thick with worry, as they exited the apartment building and stepped into the blistering cold.

“I’m sure she just found a few boyfriends and is spending her time with them,” Jamila tried to reassure her, but knew all-too-well that Tunabean wouldn’t stay away this long, even if she had a lover cat to make little kittens with. She loved Jamila and y/n’s home too much.

“Are you slut shaming my cat right now?”

“Our cat,” Jamila corrected, causing a smile to find its way to y/n’s face, “And no, I am not. I’m just trying to be optimistic here, y/n.” Jamila tucked her cold hands into the pockets of her tan peacoat. “I’m sure Tunabean is alright.”

“What if she isn’t though? What if she’s like meowing somewhere in the middle of Norman and no one to hear her pleas?” Jamila rolled her eyes at how dramatic her best friend was being.

“Norman ain’t that big, sweetie. I’m sure if she’s meowing somewhere, we would’ve heard her already.”

“Exactly! Which means she’s either dead or god knows anywhere! She could be in Oklahoma City! We don’t know that!” y/n exclaimed loudly, using excessive hand gestures more so to keep herself warm than emphasis.

Jamila stopped in her tracks and grabbed y/n by the shoulders, stopping her too. “Stop being such a drama queen, y/n! I’m sure Tunabean is fine. Maybe she’s on an adventure or making new friends, you don’t know that!”

“You don’t care about our child, admit it,” y/n muttered. This rendered Jamila silent. “Admit you don’t care about our child, Jam!” Passer-byers shot them a weirded out glare, which Jamila sent right back.

“Oh, please! Don’t pretend there are no lesbian families in Norman too!” she yelled at them. The comical side of the whole situation made y/n laugh a tiny bit. “There’s that smile I like to see.” Jamila softly touched y/n’s chin with her knuckle before grabbing the girl’s hand in hers. The warmth of Jamila’s hand radiating through to y/n’s made her feel all toasty. “Let’s go print some posters!”

The girls reached a one-storey building with red decrepit letters stuck to the roof.

HOOPER PRINTING CO.

As y/n opened the glass door and held it for Jamila to walk in, the smell of ink reached her nostrils. Though not a very traditional scent to love, it reminded y/n of one of her best friends. It was like her brain just knew that the muscles in her cheeks would soon start to hurt thanks to Zachary. A boy the girls had met in college as Xana.

Jamila spotted the bleached blonde mop of hair immediately and signaled to y/n to sneak up to him. On their tippy toes, the two approached the tall slender man, and when they were close enough, they took in a deep breath and-- “Don’t even think about it,” Zach mumbled without even looking at them.

Jamila and y/n glanced at each other, cheeks puffed out from the breath they were holding. “How’d you--?” y/n didn’t even finish her sentence as she looked past Zach and her eyes landed on a tiny tv screen. Cameras, of course.

“Since when do you have security cameras?” y/n asked as she hopped onto the counter Zach was sorting invoices on.

He shrugged, “Sometime this week, I think.” His bright blue eyes met y/n’s as she sheepishly looked at him while kicking her legs. The boy sighed exasperated, knowing all too well what the girls are here for. “No. Not again.”

“Please, Zachy! Tunabean is still missing and her posters have been ripped down!” Her eyes teared up at the thought of her kitty being out there all by herself in Norman. All she could hope was that the creepy dudes from Doyle’s didn’t get their filthy paws on her little princess.

“Come on, Zach. You love that cat too!” Jamila chimed in, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at him knowingly.

“Fine, come here,” he reached out his hand and y/n handed him the thumb drive on which she kept her self-made posters. “You’re gonna have to buy me Tino’s though.”

“We were going there afterwards, if you wanna join?” y/n’s voice was teasing and sly.

“I’m off at five,” he simply stated before pressing a few buttons on his desktop and waking up the printer closest to them. “How long has she been gone for?” he then asked after a few beats of silence. Y/N dropped her head and stared at her still moving legs for a moment.

“About a week,” she replied.

Zach pulled his lips into a tight smile. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on top of hers. “She’ll come back.”

“How can you be so sure? She might be hurt somewhere or dead and I won’t even know. I won’t even be able to say goodbye to her.” Tears pooled in y/n’s eyes as she thought of the sweet little kitten she had found in a ‘take one for free’ box on a curb one day. She was the last one left.

“I’m not sure, y/n. But I’d like to be optimistic. Besides, Tunabean is resilient and the most independent kitty I’ve ever known. She’ll survive. She’s probably out adventuring with some friends.”

Though the words weren’t very reassuring and y/n knew she had every right to be worried, they did calm her down a little. Tunabean was resilient and extremely independent. She’ll find her way back home.

“I’ll see you guys later, bye!” Owen waved at his friends as he stepped into the cold November night. It was 4 am and he was just returning home from a day spent with friends. He had fallen asleep during the movie, only waking up in the middle of the night, realizing his parents were probably worrying about him, seeing he’d told them he’d be home by midnight at the latest.

He softly hummed along to the song that was playing in his head as he walked down West Main Street, his hands tucked deep into his pockets to try and keep them warm. He should’ve brought a thicker coat or a thicker jumper.

“Ah, mister Joyner!” a familiar voice with a thick accent made him shake out of his train of thought about the cold. The friendly face of the robust Italian greeted him in the dim light of the restaurant behind him.

“Still working, Tino?” Owen asked as he stopped in his tracks to talk to the man everyone in Norman, Oklahoma loved.

“Already back at work, ragazzino!” he replied in his thick Italian accent. Owen always thought it was fake and just for show to lure clients, so that they knew he was a pure Italian man, sharing his love for the Italian cuisine in his restaurant.

“At four in the morning?!” Owen exclaimed, stunned at the man’s determination for his job.

“Deliveries don’t wait, signore.” His laugh boomed into the empty, dark streets of Norman. Owen couldn’t help but let out a laugh too while his eyes averted and landed on a poster in the window. A black-and-white picture of a small cat stared back at him.

MISSING: TUNABEAN

Grey-and-white striped ragamuffin cat, listens to the name Tunabean.

“She’s been missing for a week, the poor girl who owns her is worried sick,” Tino told Owen when he noticed what he was looking at. The blond twenty-year-old pressed his lips together. He only ever had a dog that had never run away, but he could imagine what it would be like to not know where your pet is. He would totally lose it if Bindi ever went missing.

“I feel sorry for her,” Owen said, unsure of anything else to say.

“Yeah, me too,” said Tino. “Keep an eye out for Tunabean, yeah?”

“I will.”

And with that, Owen continued his walk back home. The cat on the poster kept haunting his mind. Those big eyes were something he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Thanks to said image plastered in his brain, he even started hearing meowing when he got to Andrews Park. It was a soft, fragile meow that had to echo through his brain for a few seconds before he realized it actually came from the bushes he was walking past as he passed through Andrews Park.

Curiously, and kind of feverishly, Owen started to dig into the shrubbery until he found a tiny cat. “Oh, don’t worry, little one. I got you.” He said as he carefully detangled it from the branches. As he held it up to his face, he found the big, round eyes from the poster staring back at him in real life. “Tunabean?” he cooed, and the cat tilted its head ever so slightly.

He stroked the cat’s head and scratched behind her ear before pulling it closer into his chest. She was shivering, but Owen wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the fear. If she’d been missing for a week, God knows how long she must’ve been stuck in there.

“You hurt, little one?” he mumbled to it as he absentmindedly made his way to the one person he knew could help.

“Owen,” Emmy groaned when she’d opened the door to find him standing on the curb with a pout on his face. “It’s four in the morning, I have to be up in an hour for work.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said and showed her the cat he had tucked in his jacket to keep it warm. “I found her in the bushes near Andrews Park. Can you check if she’s okay?” Emmy’s eyes darted from the cat to Owen and back. “Please, Emmy? You’re the only one I know could help her out.”

“Come on in,” she sighed, clearly disgruntled at the early wakeup call. But she couldn’t say no to a little kitty in need. She’d been rescuing animals since she was a little girl, she wasn’t going to leave this one in the dust.

Owen placed the cat on the table as it meowed and nudged Owen’s hand with her head. “It��s okay, Tunabean, Emmy here is gonna make sure you’re okay.”

“Tunabean?” Emmy asked as she put on latex gloves.

“Yeah, I think it’s the cat from the missing posters you see all around town?”

Emmy gingerly took the cat in her gloved hands and started her check-up. “Ah, yes! My brother and his buddies took some of them down, thinking they were ‘rebellious’.” She rolled her eyes. “You gonna bring her back?”

“Of course, Tino said the owner was worried sick about her.”

Emmy smiled at this. Owen had always been the compassionate one in their friend group. He’d only act upon things if he was sure it wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Though, sometimes that compassion vanished when they were with their friends and he got a ‘brilliant’ idea, which was most likely kind of dangerous.

“Oh, look,” Emmy whispered as she showed Tunabean’s paw. There was a thorn stuck in the little pad. “Poor thing! Hold her for a second, please? I’m gonna get my tweezers to get it out.” Owen placed a hand on the cat’s stomach, his fingers lightly scratching at the white fur.

Emmy returned with everything she needed, and within a few seconds, Tunabean was freed from the thorn in her paw and back on her feet. She suddenly seemed a lot more peppy than she was before.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Owen said as he scooped the kitten back up into his arms, holding it close to his chest. Emmy took her gloves off and scratched the cat’s head.

“Goodbye, Tunabean,” she cooed, earning licks from her rough little tongue. “Ooh, I think I got the girl’s address here somewhere. Tunabean is Anna’s client and we’ve got them in the system.”

As quickly as she’d said it, she’d handed the address over to Owen. After thanking her profusely, Owen went on his way with the cat tucked safely in his jacket for warmth.

He was nervous as it was already five in the morning and the woman most definitely was still asleep. But he didn’t want to keep her in even more suspense and worry about her cat as she already was.

“Hello?” a sleepy voice sounded through the intercom.

“Hi, I’m Owen, I think I got your cat, Tunabean?”

A silence fell, only Tunabean’s sleepy snoring disrupting the peace and quiet of the night. The poor girl had fallen asleep in Owen’s arms. He almost felt sad he had to give her away again.

It took a good minute before the door to the apartment building opened up and a girl in red flannel pj’s opened the door. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun with big strands falling out of it. Though she’d probably rather not be seen like this out in public, Owen thought she looked breathtaking, even in the dim light from the hallway of her corridor and the street lights.

“You really got Tunabean?” she asked as she held onto the door, squishing herself in the small opening she’d granted herself. Owen opened his jacket and carefully showed her the cat who’d woken up from her slumber. “Tunabean!” the girl exclaimed and grabbed the grey pet from the boy’s hands. Their fingers brushed ever so slightly, and though y/n was too busy with her cat, Owen felt it. He felt the spark.

“I would invite you inside for a drink to thank you, but my roommate is still asleep and I don’t want to wake her.” Owen held up his hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a reward. I’m just glad I could reunite the two of you again,” he said, smiling at the girl and her cat. “Oh! She did have a thorn in her paw though, but my friend is a vet and I took her to her for a check-up before I came here.”

“Aw, poor Bean,” she scratched the cat’s head before turning back to the blonde boy. “Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.” He tipped his head forward, the smile still persistent on his lips.

“Glad I could help,” he repeated, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jacket again. “I’m gonna go though. I’m sure you’d rather go back to sleep right now than talk to a complete stranger on your doorstep.”

“Oh, uhm, okay… Goodbye then? And thank you again for bringing Tunabean back.”

Owen took a few steps backwards as he said, “You’re most welcome. Goodbye, Tunabean and…”

“Y/N.”

“Goodbye Tunabean and y/n.” His eyes lingered on hers for a few more seconds before he turned around to really make his way home now, no distractions.

“Wait! I didn’t catch yours!” she whisper-shouted after him.

He turned again, but kept walking. “Owen,” he said.

“Goodbye, Owen.” She grabbed Tunabean’s paw and waved at him with it, causing a giggle to rake through Owen’s body. With his hand still in his pocket, he waved back.

The more distance he created between them, the bigger his smile became as he thought of her. She was the epitome of a beautiful dream come to life. It made him wonder what she’d look like if she did put effort into her appearance. That could just be the death of him.

After two more hours of sleep, the alarm blaring through her room woke y/n from a beautiful dream with the mysterious blonde boy that rang her doorbell very early in the morning. It caused her to wake up with the thought of him, wondering if she’d ever see him again.

“Morning,” she greeted Jamila when she found her best friend in the living room, gathering all her stuff. “Guess who came home last night!” As if on cue, the little cat pattered across the hardwood floor towards the dark beauty that was Jamila. Her eyes widened as did her smile upon seeing the white-and-grey ragamuffin.

“Bean!” Jamila shrieked as she knelt down to pick the four-legged friend off the floor. “Oh, baby! I missed you!” She peppered the cat with kisses, receiving the kisses back from her tiny pink tongue. “Where’d you find him?”

“Oh, I didn’t. This guy, Owen, did. He brought her back at, like, five in the morning,” y/n explained as she absentmindedly smiled at the thought of those pretty blue-ish eyes.

“And this Owen guy is pretty cute, isn’t he?” Jamila asked upon noticing her best friend’s flustered demeanor. “Did you ask for his number?” Y/N rolled her eyes before she started gathering her things she needed for work.

“It was five in the morning, I had just woken up and I was too busy with Tunabean’s return to even think of that,” she explained, mostly cursing at herself for not asking his number. “Besides, I looked disgusting, I doubt he thought I was the epitome of beauty.”

Jamila simply shook her head, debating against saying any more about it before pressing a kiss to y/n’s cheek and leaving the apartment.

A silence fell over the space, leaving y/n alone with her thoughts. Her beautiful, yet annoying thoughts of the handsome boy at her front door. “He was handsome, wasn’t he, Tunabean?” she asked her cat, who simply tilted her head to the side as she sat in front of y/n on the floor.

Once y/n had gathered her stuff for work today, she said goodbye to Tunabean and left the apartment. She was fumbling around in her handbag to look for her car keys when a vaguely familiar voice made her look up.

The gorgeous blue eyes she’d been dreaming of for two whole hours were staring down at her whilst the plump pink lips curled up into a dreamy smile. “Oh, hey, Owen.”

“I wanted to come and check up on Tunabean,” he carefully said, pointing up at the building she’d just come out of. “You know, see if she’s okay and stuff.” He suddenly seemed nervous. More nervous than he did at five in the morning.

“Uhm, she’s okay, actually. Slept well and seemed very chipper this morning,” y/n reassured him, a smile playing at her lips as her eyes scanned his face. She made sure to make a mental note of every single detail of his face. Like how he stuck his tongue between his teeth as he smiled or how his eyes squinted slightly or the stubble faintly growing on his chin.

“Oh, okay, good. That’s--that’s all, then…” He awkwardly coughed.

Y/N awaited anything else, her eyes darting left and right as they just fumblingly stood on the curb in front of y/n’s apartment. “I-uhm… I have to get to work though, so…” She pointed somewhere behind Owen, indicating she needed to pass him and get going.

“Right!” he said and took a step aside to let her through. She offered him a little wave and a soft ‘bye’ as she passed him. He watched her walk away, cursing at himself for not asking what he really wanted to ask. “Wait!” he yelled, making her stop in her tracks and turn around again with an expectant look on her face. “That’s-that’s not what I wanted to ask. I mean it was, but it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to ask.” He scratched the back of his neck as y/n’s eyes searched for an answer on his face.

Y/N looked at him with a piercing glint in her eyes, urging him to continue.

“Oh, right! Uhm… Would you -- would you maybe wanna go have a drink with me later today? Or something?” Her smile grew wider as she slowly nodded her head in response.

“I’m off at five. Meet me at Gray Owl then,” she told him before turning to walk away.

Owen was left on her curb, wondering if he had died. He thought she looked pretty when she’d just rolled out of bed, but now that she was all dolled up for work, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. And that smile. That smile was killer.

She was more than the epitome of a dream come to life. She was beauty and grace. She was a poem and the poet. She was the lyrics and the melody. She was the question and the answer.

Owen grew more and more curious about that girl the more he thought of her. He wanted to know what she liked and what she absolutely hated. He wanted to know how she laughed and how she cried, if she sang whenever her mind wandered. He wanted to know how she liked her eggs in the morning.

Even though he knew curiosity killed the cat, he knew for a fact the cat in this story was just the beginning of something beautiful.

JATP taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost @notasofti

Owen taglist: @alexpjoyner

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen x reader #owen joyner fic #owen x fem!reader #alex jatp

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

Trash Panda

Part... 5? Of my Shifter!verse. The one-shot I didn’t know I was going to write.

Prompted by my wifey @fontegagrilledcheese and the ever amazing @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher, both wanted Raccoonskier. So... here we go! The wonderful @hobbart-art just happens to have some raccoonskier art that served as inspiration... so check that out too.

Geraskier, 2.3k - Shapeshifter!Jaskier.

Warnings: Some minor mentions of previous abuse and starvation, but mostly this is good ole fluff.

______________________

Jaskier sighed loudly as he marked the papers in front of him. He enjoyed the teaching part of teaching but all the extra work was a slog. Still, after the generosity of the University following his thankfully brief visit to Lettenhove, he figured it was the best way to repay them. He agreed to two semesters teaching at Oxenfurt and then he would return with Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter months. Geralt had reluctantly returned to the path once Jaskier had physically recovered, but Jaskier had remained at the university. It was the first time they’d willingly parted since they’d met just over a year ago, but his heart ached and he longed to fly from the window until he found his love again.

But he really did owe the University a debt.

They’d supplied him with lodgings and food without question, but he really missed Geralt. He chuckled and ran his hands through his hair. He supposed it was probably a good thing to spend some time apart. They’d become far too reliant on each other over the last year. Still, he’d been stuck one place for so long and he’d been too tired after class to let loose. He hadn’t even shifted since Geralt had left a few weeks ago. He hadn’t felt safe enough, not without Geralt by his side, which was ridiculous seeing as he could turn into a plethora of carnivorous beasts. That hadn’t stopped his mother managing to capture him though… He shuddered at the thought.

The itch under his skin was getting worse and he’d started to wake up in a cold sweat. The sensation was bringing back all sorts of memories that he’d rather avoid so he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. Luckily he didn’t have another lecture planned for a few days now. It was the perfect moment to slip out into the city and run free.

And maybe, he if was lucky, he’d run into Geralt.

He pushed his papers aside and stripped off, neatly folding his clothes on his bed, opening his bedroom window so he could make his escape. He hummed happily as he let his magic loose, his skin rippling into dark ebony feathers. He cawed as he shook out his wings and flew from the window. The dreaded itch fading away as he took to the skies. He flapped his wings and did a lap of the university before landing on the cobbled streets. He tilted his head, hopping around to make sure there was no one watching before shifting again. The black feathers thickened to a dark grey fur, his tail grew black and white ringlets as he wiggled his bum. He was still carrying a little more weight than he was used to and his belly grazed the floor as he landed on four paws.

He squeaked and rubbed his face with his paws before sitting down and scratching his belly. It was all Geralt’s fault. Jaskier hadn’t quite been human enough to watch the amount he was eating, after weeks of starvation he’d gone a little over the top. He scratched behind his ears and sniffed, at least he was cuddly. The scent of roast chicken caught his attention and he followed it to a nearby tavern. Behind the door was a pile of old food and empty wine bottles. He squeaked happily and hopped up onto the pile only to be faced with a masked opponent, a rival raccoon.

Jaskier tilted his head, assessing the animal. Their eyes were dark brown like all other raccoons so it was very unlikely that it was another shifter. He knew he could just let the raccoon have the meal, he’d already eaten back at the university, but his instincts wouldn’t let him leave the free meal behind. He chattered at the raccoon in front of him, pawing at the old chicken bones. He managed to split the bird carcass roughly in half before handing one half to the other raccoon. The raccoon clawed at the scraps of meat with its paws, shoving a handful of chicken into its mouth. Jaskier happily chewed on his own meal, sitting on his bottom with his tail between his legs.

Once he was finished he ran through the streets to the outskirts of the city. If he could get through into the forest he could run free for a few hours. It was only once he’d reached the walls that he noticed the other raccoon was still following him. He tilted his head and watched them, not getting any warning before they pounced onto his back, biting playfully at his ears. Jaskier’s raccoon instincts kicked in and soon enough the two raccoons were tumbling around on the cobbled streets of Oxenfurt, chasing each other and biting at each other’s tails until Jaskier stopped and sniffed.

He could smell a litter of kits.

He scampered off down the street, the other raccoon hot on his tail until he found an old crate. He dug through the linen sheets, grabbing the dirty fabric in his paws. Three tiny heads popped up from the crate. His new raccoon friend screeched at him and Jaskier fell backwards back onto the ground, away from the kits, shifting into mouse. The raccoon stared at him, perplexed, and only once Jaskier was certain the raccoon wouldn’t attack him, he shifted back. Cautiously he approached the kits, they were so small and helpless, hidden away from the world. The raccoon he’d met must be their mother, judging by her reaction to his discovering the kits.

He almost felt bad for stealing her dinner now, almost.

He could bring them some food from the university. He squeaked and nuzzled the other raccoon’s cheek, before shifting into a raven and taking off into the sky. Once he was back in his rooms, he got dressed and went down to the kitchens to collect a bowlful of old gruel for his new little friends. The baby raccoons had been hungry, he knew that much, and he’d stolen precious food from their mother. He wrapped his arms round his stomach, pinching at the fat that now clung to his waist, he chuckled. He really hadn’t needed the second dinner but it was too late now. He was just extra cuddly, that was what Geralt kept telling him, and he was inclined to agree.

He returned to the small family of raccoons every night, bringing them food and fresh water. It was probably an odd sight to see a blue-eyed raccoon carrying a bowl of gruel through the streets of Oxenfurt each night, but he tried to keep to the shadows wherever possible. After a couple of days the mother stopped trying to attack him whenever he got too close to her kits. It wasn’t his pack at Kaer Morhen but the little raccoon family took the edge of the loneliness that plagued his heart. Raccoons were mischievous little creatures and Jaskier had had the best time, well as good as he could have without his real pack. He wondered what Lambert would say if he saw Jaskier cuddling up with a family of raccoons, the ass would probably be jealous. He’d been reluctant enough to share Jaskier’s wolfy cuddles with Aiden, and, from Jaskier had seen of the pair, Lambert was pretty fond of the cat witcher.

He’d been visiting the raccoons for just over a week when a new smell caught his attention. He squeaked and scarpered from the shitty crate where the raccoon family made their home. He couldn’t run fast enough through the streets and he launched himself at Geralt as soon as he was within reach. Luckily Geralt’s witcher refllexes meant that he caught Jaskier mid-air.

“Jask?”

Jaskier chattered and pawed at Geralt’s face, nuzzling into his neck. Geralt pulled him away from his face and Jaskier snapped his teeth, holding out his paws, clawing at Geralt’s armour.

Geralt scowled and looked into Jaskier’s eyes. “You stink, Jask.”

Jaskier snarled and hissed at his partner. He’d been bathing regularly in his rooms, partly because he’d been rolling around in rotten food most evenings, but he was a clean raccoon thank you very much!

“Come on, Jask. Let’s get you back to the university,” Geralt said, chuckling as he cradled Jaskier in his arms, but Jaskier clawed at his armour, he couldn’t just leave his raccoon friend and her kits, not without showing Geralt.

He scrambled free from Geralt’s arms and tilted his head, gesturing for Geralt to follow him. Geralt scowled and adjusted the straps going across his chest. “You want me to follow?”

Jaskier nodded and tugged at the cuffs of Geralt’s trousers.

“Alright, lead the way, but after you’re having a bath.”

Jaskier snarled quietly but ran off through the streets, looking behind him to check Geralt was still nearby, until they reached the old crate. The kits squeaked away as Jaskier pawed at the linen that kept them hidden from the world. Jaskier jumped into the crate and let the kits crawl over him.

Geralt knelt down and scratched Jaskier on the head. “Please tell me that these are not…”

Jaskier let out his best raccoon-y laugh at the look on Geralt’s face. He looked absolutely horrified. He opened his mouth a few times with no words coming out, stammering as he let the baby raccoons sniff his hand. Geralt was lucky their mother was busy foraging around the town. There was no way she would have let Geralt get so close to her babies. Jaskier eventually took pity on his witcher and held his paws out so that Geralt would pick him up. Geralt scooped him up in his arms and Jaskier shifted into a cat, nuzzling Geralt’s chest and letting out a low rumble in his chest.

“You have some explaining to do, Jask,” Geralt hummed as he stroked his fingers through Jaskier’s fur.

Jaskier meowed and rubbed his head under Geralt’s chin, just happy to be back in his darling’s arms again. When they reached Jaskier’s rooms at the university, having told the staff that Geralt was bringing Mister Fuzzball in to see Mr Pankratz, Jaskier shifted in Geralt arms. Geralt grunted under the sudden weight of a human in his arms, Jaskier chuckled and snuggled up against his lover’s chest.

“I missed you,” he murmured into Geralt’s armour.

Geralt carried him over to the bed and gently lowered Jaskier down. Jaskier whined, reluctant to let Geralt go. Geralt huffed a laugh and clambered onto the bed next to him. Jaskier grinned and reached up to kiss Geralt, it really had been so long, but the bastard covered his mouth with his hand.

“Hmmph!” Jaskier scowled, licking Geralt’s palm to try and wriggle free from the witcher’s grip.

“You still need a bath, I’m not kissing you until you do,” Geralt smirked at Jaskier, the bastard. “You stink.”

Jaskier finally managed to pull Geralt’s hand from him mouth, he narrowed his eyes. “Says the witcher, who only bathes when he covered in monster guts.”

“I’ve not been rolling round in rotting food.”

Jaskier snorted. “You’re just jealous that I found a surrogate pack whilst you were away.”

“Surrogate?”

“Yes! I’ve not been fathering baby raccoons whilst you’re out on monster hunts, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier wrinkled his nose. “I can’t believe you even thought that! I’m still human-ish. No, Geralt.”

“But…”

“No,” Jaskier stated emphatically. “Now call a bath. If you’re going to be fussy about it. You can help wash my hair, and then I am snogging you senseless and we are cuddling.”

Geralt laughed, stroking a thumb along Jaskier’s cheek. “Needy bastard.”

Jaskier grinned. “Obviously,” then his grin fell from his face as a thought hit him. “You did miss me?”

Geralt sighed, lying down and pulling Jaskier onto his chest. “Yeah, felt strange being alone on the path again. I didn’t realise how quiet it was before I met you. I never thought I needed anyone, and then you came along.”

Jaskier hummed and laced their fingers together. “I am very lovable.”

Geralt chuckled. “Wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oi!”

“Love you,” Geralt hummed, squeezing Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier grinned, his free hand toying at Geralt’s armour. “I love you too, darling. Now, I think it is terribly unfair that I’m completely naked—”

“You’re always naked.”

“— And you are fully clothed,” he finished, ignoring Geralt’s rude interruption “so how about that bath?”

“Together?”

“Tub’s big enough for two,” Jaskier grinned and before Geralt could stop him captured his lips in a kiss. Geralt groaned but allowed Jaskier to kiss him, grimacing as he pulled away. “What?”

“What the fuck have you been eating?”

“Bit rich from Mr I’ll-Eat-Chicken-Sandwiches-From-A-Corpse,” he swatted Geralt’s arm. “Go, call for a bath, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Geralt hummed, shuffling off the bed. Jaskier watched him go with a fond smile, happily taking in the sight of Geralt’s arse in those delightfully tight trousers. It had been healthy to spend some time apart. He really had loved teaching, it had given him something to do instead of moping and feeling sorry for himself after his ordeal, especially with Geralt’s return to the path. Jaskier hadn’t been selfish enough to force Geralt to stay with him in Oxenfurt whilst he worked off his debt with the university but Gods he had really missed Geralt, and his criminally perfect bottom.

He sighed happily as he stretched out on the bed, burying under the sheets, sleep threatening to pull him under. He’d not slept much since he’s started his night time adventures around the city but with Geralt back by his side, he felt safe again, and he was ever so tired. A quick nap wouldn’t harm anyone whilst the staff got their bath ready. He hummed happily and shifted back into a raccoon, a habit from the last few days. He hid under the covers and wrapped his tail around him.

It was good to be home.

_____

Next Story!

#the witcher #geraskier #shapeshifter!jaskier #shifter!jaskier #raccoon!jaskier #wolfie's witcher writing

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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Cute

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (2,6k words) Description: Bucky has a crush on you that he can’t seem to ignore and Alpine is causing some trouble along the way. Prompt: "Wait, did you just call me cute?" (/w Bucky) For: @coffee-with-bucky‘s challenge. Warnings: Nightmare, awkwardness, slight angst, fluff, not proofread

M A S T E R L I S T

A white furball was sitting on the coffee table in front of a big dark figure, early in the spring morning. „Meow!“ Alpine voiced her opinion. „What‘s wrong, baby girl?“ Came back from Bucky‘s voice. „Meow.“ Her left paw went forward and tried to touch him. „You want to be pet?“ „Meow.“ His hand came closer and she pressed her head against it. „Rrrmeow.“ His hands both reached to scratch behind her ears. „Yeah, you like that, needy furball.“ He chuckled. She advanced towards him, putting her paws on his chest and booping his nose with hers. „You‘re a sweet girl, aren‘t you?“ She licked the tip of his nose. His smile was so giant, it was almost scary if you‘ve never seen it before. „God, you actually look cute when your face shows emotions,“ you commented in the door frame. He chuckled and stopped shortly after, „Wait, did you just call me cute?“ „Yeah. Happens when you‘re not looking like the death himself.“ You grinned at him. His face was back at its usual asshole resting face. You sat down very close to him, seeing Alpine sit down on the other side of him. „You look good when you smile. I like that look on you.“ You smiled behind your mug. „Meow.“ „Look she agrees.“ You reached out to squish his cheeks together and make him chuckle, which you succeed in. „Stop.“ He grumbled and grabbed you. You, dodging it by throwing yourself against him. „Darling!“ he threw you a stern look and you giggled, coming back up right in front of his face, seeing a smile vanish to a slight blush on his face. „Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,“ you mumbled. „No, no. Not at all.“ He looked down at his hands. God, he had such a crush on you, but he couldn‘t and shouldn‘t. It wouldn‘t work, he couldn‘t even hold a conversation. He was glad you even felt comfortable around him. „Meow!“ Alpine pushed her head into his side very hard to make him move towards you. „Alpine, no.“ He mumbled and got a protesting meow back. She was determined. „What is she trying to tell you?“ You dipped your head to the side. „Uh, just, nothing.“ He was so weird all of a sudden. The furball licked her paw and then put it up in your direction before dipping her head to the side with a purr. „Did she just...alright, wow. Can you understand us?“ You got closer to the cat but got an almost arrogant stance back. „I ask her that all the time.“ He chuckled nervously. „Did she mean kissing?“ You were thoroughly confused by what she had just done. „Um.“ He looked away, blushing profusely. Your eyes got big, „She did.“ „I need to go.“ He mumbled, grabbed the protesting cat and booked it.

It was your free day, until it wasn‘t. The team that was out on a mission came back in a hurry. With a baby. „You two stay here, keep her safe. We need to find the organization trying to hurt her.“ „Where is her mom?“ „Gone. Just keep her safe. We need to go.“ And Steve and the others were already out of the compound again, leaving you with a baby in your arms. „Friday, put the security level up.“ „Will do.“ When you came back into the living room you saw Bucky watch his favorite show without even noticing you. Alpine made a leap off the couch to come towards you and loop through your legs. A coo made the giant man raise a brow and turn around. „What in the mother of-“ „They dropped her off and currently try to chase down the people wanting her for some reason.“ You shrugged and sat down next to him. „You‘re good with children, right? I didn‘t have much family and I honestly have no idea what to do other than holding her. Help.“ You looked into his eyes helplessly. „I haven‘t- Fine.“ He grabbed her out of your grasp. „Friday? Do we know her name?“ „Her name is Olive.“ „Hey, I‘ll call you Lilly. Alright?“ He cooed down at the little bundle and got a little coo back. The baby looked extra small in his grasp, but it also looked way more relaxed than with you. Her eyes got heavier and heavier the more he slightly moved her just right. „Yeah, you probably had an exhausting day, baby girl.“ He smiled down at her. That smile that was reserved for pets and children. That „I‘m not being judged“ smile. „I‘d never be that good with children.“ You mumbled and had him look up. „What? No, you‘re just not used to it. I think you‘d be great with children.“ „Really?“ „Yeah, you‘re good at taking care of people. Why not put that into a smaller version.“ He put down the little girl between the both of you on the couch and watched her sleep. „Do you want children?“ You asked a little shy. That was a personal question to ask such a traumatized person. „Yeah. One day.“ He smiled down at Olive and took her little hand. „I think you‘d be a great dad.“ You smiled and saw him look up and blush. „Um, thanks. Uh, do- Do you want children one day?“ He stammered. „Maybe. Only if I find the right person.“ You shrugged and looked away. „You will. I‘m sure of it,“ he answered as Olive already started to fuzz again. Watching him be so good at this kinda made you think twice if you really wanted this one day. You felt like anyone would be more qualified at it than you. „You got this, right? I- I think I need to just-“ You gestured towards the door before making your way out, leaving behind a confused Bucky looking at a baby in his arms and a cat that disapprovingly put her head back down.

He looked pretty beaten up after this particular intense mission. Two cuts in the face and a bullet wound in is side. You sat down on his bed in the med bay, „Hey.“ „Hey.“ You got a soft smile from him. „Do you need help with cleaning up those wounds?“ You asked reluctant. „I mean, they only did the bullet wound, so I‘d appreciate it.“ He chuckled a bit strained. You got everything you needed and sat down next to him again, moving his head how you needed it. He frowned for a second before his expression eased at...whatever it eased at. You didn‘t notice the stare at your lips that kept him thoroughly distracted. It would be so easy for him to just go for it right now, but he shouldn‘t. He knew he shouldn‘t. „Aaand you‘re all cleaned up again.“ You smiled at him and got a tiny „Thank you“ back. „Anything else?“ You dipped your head to the side. „What else would there be?“ He smiled. „I could get you clothes to change into, make your hair less messy, get you some food,“ you suggested. „Make my hair less messy. Please.“ He played the idiot in need, but he really just wanted to feel your hands in his hair. You sat down behind him, started detangling it and sending chills down his spine. Then you started braiding little braids into it and he was sure that this was his undoing. And as you saw his shoulders relax you gave him a little scalp massage, letting him lose all the tension he was holding. „God, I could kiss you right now. This is amazing.“ He grumbled relaxed. „Wouldn‘t hold it against you.“ You chuckled as you sat next to him again. „Is that so?“ He smirked. „Yeah, well, I‘m pretty good, aren‘t I?“ „Yeah.“ There was this softness, this fuzz in the air.

Alpine came walking towards you in the very early morning as you wanted to get yourself some warm milk with honey to fall back asleep. Nothing she usually did. Normally she was always a step behind or ahead of Bucky. You frowned and crouched down. „Is there something wrong, sweetie?“ „Meow.“ „I take that as a yes.“ „Meow.“ You made your way to his quarters in the compound and knocked at his door. When there was no answer you pushed the slightly ajar door open. „Where is he, Alpine?“ You looked down and saw her rush towards the bathroom door. She scratched the surface lightly with soft meows. She was not a trained therapy cat but she sure as hell was one hell of a buddy. The bond they both had showed especially now. „Bucky?“ You asked soft but nervous. Nothing. „Alpine got me here. What is wrong? Please open the door.“ You explained and asked. „Meow.“ Harder Scratching, paws reaching under the door. „Friday? Can you please unlock this door?“ „Protocol: MHE. Door unlocked.“ You pushed down the handle slowly, letting Alpine rush in first before you could even see anything. You only heard her purring before you saw her forcefully cuddle into a hunched figure. „Bucky…“ You came towards him, sat down in front of him. Nothing. You reached out for his flesh arm to feel him. He was a little cold for his usual supersoldier warmth. „Wait, I‘ll get you a blanket,“ you mumbled, coming back with a giant black soft throw blanket. „Bucky, please talk to me.“ He didn‘t move the head leaning on top of one of his arms. Alpine in the small room between his thighs and his chest pushed against him. She was purring and making biscuits on him as best as she could. Truly a good girl. „James, at least pet Alpine. You don‘t have to talk to me, but she‘s doing a great job.“ A shaky breath left him before his free hand reached for Alpine and carefully went through her fur. „Meow.“ She looked up at him. You just knew. She was verbally mothering him, kicking his ass. „Thank you, Al.“ A deep, nasally and rough voice came from him before his face came up a bit so she could climb higher on his chest to be scratched. „What happened?“ You asked softly again. „Bad dream. Somehow you were a person brought in to make me comply and...you were killed by a drone strike somehow. God, I have a lot of gore in my mind, but that was horrible.“ You saw tears form in his eyes again and pulled him close. „I‘m here. See? I‘m hugging you and I‘m here. You won‘t let anything bad happen to me, ever. I know that.“ You tried to soothe him. He grabbed you, squeezed your arms, your waist, your hips, touched your hair. „It looked so fucking bad. It was awful. I can‘t get the picture out of my head.“ He dug his face into the crook of your neck. „Think about your favorite moment with me then. Or that mission where I accidentally shot Steve in his arm. Or when Alpine tried to tell you to kiss me.“ You chuckled. His hands wandered up and down your body, relaxing both of you. „You know, I really kinda want it. To kiss you, I mean.“ He stumbled over his words. „What‘s holding you back?“ You whispered. „My brain.“ His head came up and looked at you. You could see the troubled mind in his eyes. „Then what‘s your heart saying?“ You asked pointing at it. His face turned soft, „That you‘re cute.“

You went through his hair carefully, still a little concerned about him. „I know, I should cut it off,“ he mumbled. „Huh? No, you don‘t need to. I like you with any type of hairstyle.“ You offered him a soft smile. „I want it short again. I don‘t wanna look like him anymore. Not after that dream.“ He shuddered at the mention. „Now?“ You asked still going through it and saw him nod. „Do you trust me?“ „I do.“ You got up, grabbed scissors and an electric razor from all over his bathroom, before taking his blanket away from him under protest of both him and his cat. The cat proceeded to lay down in the warm blanket pile shortly after. You put his hair in three tails, cut them off while being watched carefully. His shoulders relaxed when that step was finished. You proceeded to get all of his top hair up into a tail, helping with various products in spray bottles, cause you were definitely not used to doing this anymore. Alpine jumped a little when the razor turned on, but when she saw Bucky visibly relax even more she rolled back into a furball on the blanket pile. You shaved down his sides and back a decent amount. Not too much. You didn‘t want to make this look military style. Then you continued with the top of his head. You didn‘t know which length would be ideal. Maybe not too short, but too long also looked off with his fluffy hair. You still wanted to indulge in playing with it though. Maybe about 3-4 cm / 1-2 inches long. It took a while for you to figure out the way you needed to go about cutting it but you were finished with it in no time. With soft brushes over his hair you got rid of any hair that didn‘t belong there anymore before making him stand up. „WOAH.“ His eyes got wide as he went through his hair, looking at your quality work. „You like it?“ „I love it.“ He looked at you in the mirror, seeing a loving shimmer in your eyes. Maybe he DID deserve you. „We should go to bed. I only slept like 3 hours because of that,“ he mumbled and you nodded as you put out the bathroom light and closed the door behind Alpine. You padded after him, making him do a full stop and turn around a little confused. „What?“ You asked rubbing your eyes and he really couldn‘t say no. So he did the next best thing coming to his mind, grabbed around your waist and let himself fall into his bed. „Idiot.“ You giggled into his chest and climbed up a bit a few seconds later. „Hey.“ He smiled up at you as you grabbed into his hair. „Hey handsome.“ You smirked all tired before cuddling yourself against him and planting your face in his neckline. Yeah, maybe he did deserve you.

In your routine of being half awake and grumpy you turned around to hit something unusual with your arm. „Ouch.“ You heard next to you pretty monotone, then holding back laughter. „Sorry, B.“ You pushed yourself into his grasp to fall back asleep. „Darling, it‘s noon.“ You pried one of your eyes open to look at him judgingly. „C‘mere,“ he cooed as he pulled you extra close. „Didn‘t know you could show that emotion.“ You giggled as you gave him a little kiss on his cheek. „Oh, believe me. There are a lot of emotions that are a you-only thing.“ He grinned at you and felt your hand pat up the side of his face to find the proper position. „Show me another.“ You smiled up at him all sleepy. This was a now or in three uncomfortable weeks kinda situation. You were just enough in sleep mode for him to feel less awkward about making a move on you. So he reached for your face and finally went for that damn kiss that‘s been the topic of his life for weeks. Your hand went through his new short hair with a hum, pushing him down for more. Yes, definitely the right decision.

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softlass27 · 4 years

Text

Aaron Week Day 5: “You tricked me!”

AO3 link here

Aaron Dingle is not a cat person. He has never been a cat person – give him a happy, energetic dog he can play fetch with any day.

So why won’t this furry little shit leave him alone?

One evening a few weeks ago, he’d been sat in his living room, minding his own business, when he looked up from his NME magazine to see an orange face watching him from his balcony.

Letting out a startled yelp that he was glad no one heard, Aaron had stared at the ginger tabby cat in the doorway. The cat had stared back. Aaron narrowed his eyes. The cat narrowed its eyes right back at him.

Shaking his head, he’d tilted the magazine a little higher so that he blocked his view of the fur ball outside. By the time he’d finished reading it, he lowered the pages to see an empty balcony. The cat was gone. He forgot all about it.

Until the next evening. It had been warmer that night, and Aaron had left the balcony door open for a cooling breeze. He’d been pottering about in the kitchen, making himself some beans on toast, when he heard a quiet “mrow” behind him.

“What the – ”

Aaron had whirled around to see the same ginger tabby – at least he thought it was the same ginger tabby – sitting innocently on the floor behind him.

“What the hell d’you think you’re doing?”

The cat licked a paw primly.

“You don’t live here, get out.”

Nothing.

Aaron sighed, dropping the tins of beans on the counter before gingerly picking the cat up, praying it didn’t have fleas, and putting it out on the balcony. As he quickly slid the door shut behind him, the cat looked at him with an outraged expression on its face.

“I see that collar round your neck, go to your own home!”

Instead the cat rolled to its side, putting on a real show of stretching out languidly and making itself comfortable. Essentially a massive fuck you right to Aaron’s face.

Aaron snorted. “Whatever.”

So now he’s got himself in a situation where this ginger nightmare appears on his balcony every day without fail. Always staring at Aaron, giving him grief and trying to mess with his head. It’s a little like having a tiny, fluffy stalker.

The point of no return comes on the day the damn thing learns how to open the sliding balcony door by itself (the lock broke months ago and he hasn’t gotten around to doing anything about it), and Aaron comes out of his bedroom to see it sitting in the kitchen sink. It hisses when Aaron tries to move it, and Aaron very nearly hisses back.

Despite his less-than welcoming attitude, the thing never takes the hint, returning over and over again.

“Why me, eh?” Aaron asks as he scratches the animal behind the ears one day (probably a mistake). “All the flats you could go to in this building, why’s it my doorstep you darken?”

Aaron trudges through the entrance to his building one Friday night, shaking rainwater out of his hair. It's been a week of long shifts at the garage where he works, topped off with the day from hell, one stupid customer after another coming through like the place had a revolving door.

Adam texted him earlier, trying to get him to come on a night out, and his mother’s also been trying to get him to come to the village for his tea, but he’s ignoring them both. All he wants to do is get into his flat, collapse on his bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

As he walks up the stairs to his floor, he hears a familiar arrogant voice coming from above him, and mentally curses. The last thing he wants to do is run into Tall Blond Arsehole right now, but there’s no escape route.

Tall Blond Arsehole had moved into a flat on the floor above Aaron’s a few weeks ago – the penthouse. The first time Aaron had seen him, the bloke had been on his phone and been coming into the building just as Aaron was leaving. He’d been walking at top speed and had bumped Aaron had on the shoulder as they had passed each other.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” Aaron had grumbled, just loud enough for the man to hear him.

The man barely paused, throwing a quick glare over his shoulder and snapping “You watch it, mate.” before returning to his phone conversation and disappearing up the stairs.

They hadn’t spoken since that morning, and that suited Aaron just fine. Tall Blond Arsehole doesn’t seem to talk to anyone in the building, always on that bloody phone yelling at some poor sod named Jimmy, nattering on about contracts, deals and meetings. Nothing more than a boring businessman with an over-inflated sense of his own importance.

(He’s also incredibly fit, but that’s by the by.)

Now, Tall Blond Arsehole comes breezing down the flight of stairs, dressed in one of his usual sharp suits and barely sparing Aaron a glance as he passes by him. Aaron rolls his eyes, before continuing up the stairs and practically falling through the door to his flat.

He shuffles down the hallway to his bedroom, not even stopping to take his hoodie and jeans off before collapsing on top of the covers.

“Mrrrp.”

Aaron’s eyes fly open instantly and he rips the duvet back to reveal a curled up orange ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He shoots the cat an incredulous look. “My bed now?”

The demonic creature just uncurls and glares at him, as if Aaron’s the one who invaded its space, rather than the other way around.

“How did you even – you know what, fuck it. M’too knackered to give a shit. Do whatever you want.”

He slides under the duvet and lets his eyes fall shut. A few moments later, he feels slight movement next to him, and then soft warmth pressing against him. He falls asleep with the cat purring against his chest.

He awakes to knocking at the door. Blearily opening his eyes, Aaron realises that it’s much later now, the room pitch black. Too late to move.

Determined to ignore the noise – whatever the hell this person wants will have to wait – he rolls over until his face hits something soft and fluffy.

“Jesus Christ!” He jerks up and fumbles to switch the lamp on, the low light revealing the ginger nightmare still lying in his bed. “Oh God, you’re still here.”

The cat paws at the strings of Aaron’s hoodie, seemingly unconcerned by the fact it had nearly given him a heart attack. The knocking at the door starts up again. It’s louder this time and a quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly two o’clock in the bloody morning. For fuck’s sake.

Aaron staggers out into the living room and flings the door opening roughly, ready to tell whoever it is exactly where to go, only to find Tall Blond Arsehole standing in front of him.

He looks different to usual, smart clothes swapped for a soft-looking blue t-shirt and grey pair of jogging bottoms. His hair has lost its neat style, sticking up in all directions as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and instead of looking cocky, his entire being seems to be full of panic and distress.

“Uh… ” The furious words Aaron had been about to bark die on his throat, and he vaguely wonders if he’s still asleep and this is just part of some weird dream.

“Oh… it’s you,” the man says, a hint of awkwardness creeping in his expression.

“Er, yeah. What’s up?”

“Um, I’m sorry, I know it’s really late… ”

“It’s okay,” Aaron finds himself saying without meaning to. Christ, he must be going soft.

“I’m just… I’m looking for my cat. He’s a ginger tabby, has a blue collar and I can’t find him anywhere. Have you seen him by any chance?”

That little fucker.

Aaron grabs the man’s arm and pulls him into the living room.

“Wait here a sec.”

Aaron jogs back to his bedroom and picks up the cat, who rubs its head under his chin (probably thinks it’s getting a cuddle), and returns to the living room.

“Pippin!” Tall Blond Ars – okay, maybe just Tall Blond for now – gasps, taking the cat from Aaron’s arms and cuddling him to his chest. “You absolute demon.”

The cat – Pippin – yowls loudly, its head turning to Aaron with a look he can only identify as betrayal. The damn thing barely reacts when Tall Blond fusses over him happily, stroking his fur with a thumb and pressing relieved kisses to his head.

Tall Blond finally looks up at him with shining eyes, and Aaron swears he feels his heart skip a beat. Shit.

“I’m – God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know where – I thought he might’ve – ” he rambles quickly, cradling the cat like a baby, and Aaron wonders how long his neighbour has been frantically searching for his pet demon. “I know he likes to go walkabout, but he hasn’t come home in days and… Sorry if he’s been a bother.”

Aaron frowns. “What? Days? No, he was just… oh.” His eyebrows raise in surprise. “He normally just comes and goes, lets himself out. I haven't been home much these last few days, I didn’t realise he’d been staying.”

His gaze drifts down to Pippin, who now looks impossibly smug. “You tricked me, you little stowaway!”

Pippin sneezes unapologetically.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, before Aaron asks, “Pippin? Cute name. Doesn’t fit him at all.”

Tall Blond's face twitches into a smile. It makes his eyes crinkle in a way that has Aaron’s stomach doing somersaults, and Jesus Christ, how had he not noticed those freckles before?

“Yeah, it’s er… it’s from Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh. Never seen it.”

“You’ve never – ” Tall Blond’s eyes widen, scandalised. “You’re missing out.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, thanks for having him over… even if you didn’t know it? And sorry again.”

“S’no bother. At least now I know who to call when he knocks my plants off the windowsill.”

The smile drops off the man’s face and he looks down at Pippin.

“Pip, mate!” He scolds Pippin like he’s a naughty child, and the cat meows back at him angrily. “What the hell, we talked about this!”

It’s ridiculous. This attractive man and his argumentative cat are both ridiculous, and Aaron can’t help laughing slightly hysterically.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. Again. How much do I owe you?”

“Mate, don’t worry about it.” Aaron waves away the man’s protest. “Honestly, I don’t care, they were just some cheap B&Q ones my mum forced me to get. Said my place needed brightening up or summat. Glad to have an excuse to be rid of them, if I’m honest, I’m hopeless at keeping plants alive.”

“Okay, if you’re sure… ” He still doesn’t look happy, though. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

The words fly out of his mouth before Aaron can stop them. “Buy me a pint if you like?”

The man blinks at him, before his mouth curls into a small (flirtatious?) smile. “A pint it is.”

“Okay. Great. Uhm, I’m Aaron, by the way,” Aaron smiles back as he opens the door so they can step into the corridor.

“Oh. Robert.” He gestures to the squirming cat. “And you know Pippin.”

“Good to finally have a name for him, I’ve just been calling him ginger nightmare most of the time.” He decides not to share what he’d been calling Robert up until now.

Robert's surprised laugh echoes loudly in the hallway and he presses a fist to his mouth to muffle it. Aaron looks at him, helplessly fond, and can’t help but wonder how the man he’s been silently hating for weeks on end and this man giggling in his pyjamas can possibly be the same person.

“I dunno, that’s pretty accurate,” Robert says eventually, still chuckling. “Well, I… should let you sleep. And thanks again, I know this was a bit… ”

“Random?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay.”

“So can I… pick you up tomorrow night for that drink? Around seven?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Great. Night, then.”

Aaron nods, watching Robert walk towards the staircase. They smile at each other one last time, and Robert disappears upstairs, Pippin’s meows still faintly audible.

Before he goes back to bed, Aaron spends twenty minutes scrolling through his phone for the best cat toy he can find. He owes Pippin a thank you present.

#a fluffy one after yesterday's angst!#robron #my writing #aaronweek2020

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milknette · 4 years

Text

day 26 - toe beans

i can see it now, i’m the cat’s meow!

tumblr month: @marichatmay links: ao3 | ff.net

“MEOWCH!”

Marinette only looked on in horror as the hero jumped in front of her, shielding her from the blast— and consequently, taking it for himself.

She only had a moment to meet his eyes before he disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Well, not quite.

Something else was left behind in its place.

A small, black, kitty, staring right at her.

If it wasn’t for its glowing green eyes, seeming to look right into her, as well as the all-too-familiar black ring comfortably fit into his front paw, she would’ve thought he was a stray.

But no, this was definitely her partner:

Chat Noir—

Ironically more true to his namesake than he had been previously.

As another blast was thrown in her direction, Marinette yelped, grabbing the cat as she ducked into a nearby alleyway.

When the akuamtized villain didn’t come to follow, she heaved a breath of relief.

The cat remained still in her hands, as if patiently waiting for her to think of a plan.

“Meow.”

Marinette looked at him in disbelief.

“You can’t even talk?! Oh my God, Chat, how am I supposed to capture the akuma without you around to help me; I thought we were being careful!”

She put the cat down, pacing, as the cat followed.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “I can do this.” She looked up, as if calculating. “So Animan can turn people into animals now. And he got to my whole team.” Marinette looked at Chat Noir, staring up at her with a strangely smpathetic face. “Even you.”

She bit back the need to scream in frustration.

Marinette wanted to turn into Ladybug and fight, but Animan’s powers didn’t only affect people, it seemed: kwamis, too.

Before she had gotten to transform, a wayward blast had hit Tikki, and…

Marinette took a peek into her bag, where the ladybug was curled up, sleeping soundly inside.

This was, suffice to say:

Not good.

As if sensing her distress, Chat Noir cuddled up to her leg, offering an almost sympathetic purr.

She kneeled down, then pet the cat.

He was actually pretty cute, like this.

Marinette laughed to herself as the cat nuzzled its head into her hand.

“I think I prefer you like this, kitty.” She teased, lifting up one of the cat’s paws, only to see the toe beans that replaced the hero’s black boots.

Her eyes sparkled.

“These are so cute!” She squealed, scooping up the cat to admire his tiny paws. “Chat,” she began. “I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

The cat almost looked like it was blushing.

Then, a sudden shout nearby.

“You can’t hide furever, Chat Noir and Ladybug!”

She smirked. “Seems like someone else is stealing your bit, huh?”

Marinette sighed, before standing up, Chat Noir still in her hands.

“What are we going to do now, kitty?” She asked, only for the cat to shrug.

“I think the akuma’s in his bracelet again,” Marinette stated. “Like before, remember?”

Chat Noir purred in agreement.

“If only we could get close…” she muttered. “But anyone who comes close to him is turned into an animal. There’s no way I could avoid those blasts, especially without Ladybug.” She frowned, touching her earrings. “I’m sure if we destroyed his bracelet, Tikki would turn back. It’s just a question of how…”

Her thoughts were interrupted as the cat indignantly started pawing at her, almost as if he were trying to say something.

“Meow! Meow! Meow!”

“Chat, you know that I can’t understand you, right?”

Almost frustrated, the cat shoved his paw at her face.

“I know your toe beans are adorable, but that isn’t helping right now!”

The black cat shook its head, then mimicked an exploding gesture with its front paws.

“MEOWW meow meow meow!”

Marinette wasn’t sure how she could decode his purrs, but found herself understanding what he meant.

Her eyes lit up as his actions started to make sense. She looked down at Chat Noir.

“Are you sure it’ll work?” Marinette asked. “We can’t be sure whether or not your miraculous still works when you’re transformed like that.”

The cat only purred, as if to say, “we at least have to try.”

She frowned, then nodded, signing off on their plan.

“Well, you’re a cat already— so I guess he can’t do anything worse.”

Marinette let Chat Noir down, then placed a kiss on the cat’s forehead. “I’ll be right behind you, kitty.”

As he ran off toward the villain, she sighed.

She couldn’t quite believe that she was putting the fate of Paris in Chat Noir’s hands— well, paws, really.

Those toe beans of his were all that they could depend on.

— — — — —

Chat Noir was running.

On all four of his legs.

He was surprised to find that he was a lot faster— maybe he should start running on all fours after this?

(Sure, as if Ladybug would ever stop teasing him if he did.)

Instead, the cat easily dodged under the flipped-over cars and, easily blending in with the rest of his animal army, suddenly jumped at the unsuspecting zookeeper.

He sure as hell hoped that this would work.

“Cataclysm!”

(Though it more accurately came off as, ‘meowmeowmeowmeow!’)

And to his complete joy, his paw glowed green, destructive energy overflowing as he aimed his claws at Animan’s bracelet, feeling it break apart…

As he consequently transformed, landing back to the ground—

On his two feet.

Chat Noir grinned. “How I’ve meowsed this body,” he sighed dreamily, hugging himself, as a familiar red-suited heroine showed up next to him.

“You were cuter back then.” Ladybug looked longingly down at his feet, upset. “No more toe beans.”

He pouted. “Is that any way to treat your boyfriend?”

She only rolled her eyes.

“Sorry, maybe I wanted a pet more than I wanted a boyfriend?”

And ignoring his less-than-impressed expression, she only laughed, before throwing up her yo-yo:

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

#marichatmay2020 #marichat may #marichatmay #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ml #miraculous ladybug #milk writes #ml fic #ml fanfic

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richgoranskiiii · 4 years

Text

allergies and apologies.

Roman and his one-and-only, Patton, have been together for over two years, with Virgil and Logan falling behind them in pursuit.

Secrets are hard to keep, since the couple’s bond is strong, but what happens when Patton suddenly shows up with tiny scratches on his hands, watery eyes, and a stuffy nose?

A/N: Ah, welcome to my second(?) fanfic on tumblr? I don’t really know what I’m doing, haha! I wrote this a while ago on A03, but I thought I might as well post it here for all of you, :)

Ship: Royality

TW: None

Sunshine sifted through the curtains of Roman Prince’s room, birds tweeting their short-lived songs.

He lay in a disheveled mess—Snoring loudly with his behind stuck in the air, and pieces of brown hair stood up in all sorts of ways. Clad in nothing but a white t-shirt and red boxers with little crowns on them, the creative trait continued to snooze.

That is, before Patton Roseberry opened the door, only to sneak in. Quiet as a mouse, he managed to avoid making noise, whilst glancing over his shoulder. A smile played along his lips just looking at his lover, as his fingers raising the velvet curtains slowly.

The room filled with light, dust particles floating in the air, and a tired Roman jolted awake, nearly falling off king-sized bed the couple slept in.

"Huh? What's happenin', Pattycake?" He mumbled, words slurring together as he struggled to remain conscious. Giggling, Patton simply made his way over, and placed a kiss on Roman's cheek.

"Good morning to you too, Ro. It's time for breakfast—We gotta get this prince up and running again!" He piped cheerfully, pulling at Roman's hand, causing the two to stumble together. Rolling his eyes playfully, the fatherly trait shoved him lightly into the bathroom, so he could get ready.

Patton slipped out of the room, heading to the kitchen to prepare their meal, which would consist of a variety of pancakes, with a quote on quote, healthy amount of syrup.

Humming softly to himself, he shuffled across the wooden floor, laughing to himself while putting on an apron that read, "Why did the coffee file a police report? Because it got mugged!"

As he gathered supplies, the friendly figure noticed light scratching at the back door, gradually getting louder by the minute. Curiosity killed the cat, as Patton went to examine the noise.

There, sitting with bright emerald eyes, was a ginger kitten, raising a paw against the glass.

Patton nearly forgot to breathe. Completely ditching the task at hand, he rushed over, swinging the door open and scooping the cat upwards.

The kitten meowed softly, pawing at his sleeve, and making its way onto Patton's shoulder. He squeaked, eyes sparkling like the stars above, as he held the sweet little creature close.

"Look at you! You're so adorable, isn't that right, you precious baby—" He cooed, scratching behind its ears, as it purred.

Double checking, within a few minutes, Patton found out the furry feline was male, dubbing him Pudge The Lightning Fast Cat! Lightning due to the thunderbolt running down his back, and short for Pudge.

Sniffing, Patton's eyes began to water, blinking a few times before shaking his head. Smiling widely, he reassured the cat, regardless of its nervous scratching along his hand.

Then, in the midst of Patton's cuddle session, a voice spoke out from the hallway.

"Patton, who on Earth are you talking to, darling? Is it Virgil?" Roman asked, calling out, hesitantly approaching the kitchen at a fast rate. Panicking, Patton nudged the kitten under the kitchen table, shushing him quickly before remaining calm.

"O-Oh, of course not! I was merely talking to myself. I had no idea what kind of pancake you liked!" He laughed nervously, gazing into Roman's eyes.

In the background, the kitten had managed to crawl on top of the table, struggling to stand.

"Pat, my darling, you know it's blueberry, topped with whipped cream and Crofter's Jam!" The prince sang, grinning and winking. Patton struggled to pay attention, watching the kitten, as he crept closer and closer to the ledge of the table.

"Oh shucks, silly me! I'll remember that next time!" He sniffed, blinking away the responsive tears due to his allergies, smile seeming too fake.

With a swift movement, Patton readjusted himself, blocking the kitten from sight, hands behind his back and holding the tiny animal quietly.

"Darling, are you alright? It looks like you've been crying." Roman said, furrowing his eyebrows with worry. Patton waved a hand in denial, shaking his head.

"I've never been better! Why do you ask?"

"You seem. . . Strange, this morning—Wait. When did you get those scratch marks?" He asked, the sudden expression from worry transitioning to concern. The kitten struggled behind Patton, squirming in his hand, and. . .

"Oww!" He cried, yanking his hand away, frowning in pain. The kitten had bit him, which was not surprising to say the least. He was frightened from the progressively tightening around him, of course he was going to bite Patton.

"Patton! What's going—" Roman stopped in his tracks, as the ginger cat strode out from behind Patton, eyes almost as wide as his. A sheepish smile gradually appeared on the Patton's face, followed by a blush, glancing at Roman.

"Surprise?" He said, waving his hands and rubbing his nose. All Pat could think of was the consequences he was about to earn, for bring a cat into their household, let alone hide him!

". . . It's—It's a kitten. Oh. Patton, I'm afraid we can't keep him." Roman stated, facing his significant other, watching him struggle not to sneeze.

"But why not? The poor baby was outside our door, scratching and practically begging for food! Please Roman!" He begged, holding the kitten up to Roman's face, giving him puppy dog eyes of his own.

"My love, I would say yes, but your allergies. . ."

"Then I'll take care of them! I'll take medication, and get shots, and everything—I even named him! Pudge The Lightning Fast Cat, aka Pudge!" He whimpered, as the feline meowed, looking up at the taller male.

Its eyes sparkled in the lighting, pupils big and friendly. Roman's heart softened, lip twitching as he huffed in defeat.

". . . Fine." He mumbled, crossing his arms teasingly and facing away from Patton. He squealed in happiness, carrying the kitten in his arms.

"Do you hear that little guy? You're gonna have a home with us! Roman's gonna be your new dad, Pudge!" He laughed, smiling brightly, as Roman cracked. He turned, chuckling to himself, and wrapped an arm around Patton's shoulder.

"Hey, Patton?"

"Yeah, Roman?"

"I love you Pat, but you need to take an allergy pill before you can play with Pudge." Roman joked, laughing alongside Patton.

"Pssh—And I love you too, Ro." He replied, kissing Roman gently on the lips, before waddling off to find his medication.

And the couple could not be any more happier to have a new family member to the family, especially one with the name "Pudge".

Who even thinks of that?

#theangelsoars writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fluff #fluff #romantic royality #royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #cat #haha

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hovercraft79 · 4 years

Text

Don’t Cry Out Loud

Chapters: 1

Word Count: 8,093

Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)

Rating: Teen

Warnings: smoking and the difficulties in quitting

Summary: Hecate Hardbroom is used to being alone. She prefers it that way. At least, she thought she did until Ada Cackle returned to the Academy. Opening herself up to someone new carries great risk, but it might bring great rewards. Feelings bring laughter and tears – and something she didn’t realized she’d been missing so much.

Notes: This fic covers the prompt 5 Times and completes the first trilogy in the set (what I’ve affectionately dubbed The Kitten Chronicles because I haven’t been getting enough sleep).

The title comes the Melissa Manchester song, which includes the following lyrics if you aren’t familiar with it: “Don't cry out loud, just keep it inside, and learn how to hide your feelings.” Could these words describe Hecate Hardbroom any less? I think not.

Once again, Sparky has done her level best to curb my wayward commas and semi-colons.

Bleary-eyed and chilled from the flight, Ada touched down at the edge of Hecate’s garden. Shivering in the moonlight, Ada glanced at the pinkening sky and decided she had time for a cigarette before reporting for duty as Hecate’s laboratory assistant. She cast a light warming spell and summoned her cigarettes. Within minutes she was halfway through her first smoke and the day was looking much brighter indeed. Her mother had insisted she give it up, calling it a ‘filthy Ordinary habit,’ but Ada had found it difficult to do so. Instead, she’d reverted back to childhood and had taken to sneaking away and hiding whenever she could no longer ignore the craving.

Speaking of cravings, Ada thought she’d kill for a coffee right about now, but that wasn’t going to happen. There might be a hundred tea sets in the castle, but there wasn’t a coffee pot to be found. She doubted Hecate had one either.

She finished her smoke as the sun peeked over the horizon. Time to head inside. Casting a quick shower spell to dispel some of the cigarette odor, she ambled to the door, nearly tripping over a strange broomstick.

Ada looked closer. Not a strange broomstick – her mother’s. Wide awake now, Ada wondered what on earth her mother could be doing at Darkwood Cottage. She knocked on the door and stepped inside when it opened of its own accord.

Hecate and her mother were at the kitchen table, heads bent together over a tiny bundle between them. Quietly, so as not to startle, Ada walked closer.

“It’d been three days, so I’d hoped the mother would accept her, but this morning she’d been pushed out away from the others,” Alma said softly. “She was cold – maybe too cold. I hoped you might be able to help.”

“She’s very small, Mrs. Cackle, I don’t know if there’s much hope.”

Ada edged closer. A tiny kitten, wrapped in a kitchen towel, lay on the table between them. Hecate looked up at her, face wrinkled in sympathy and sadness. As they watched, the kitten, which had been feebly moving her paws, grew still.

“I knew it was a long shot,” Alma sighed, as she started to wrap the kitten in the towel.

“Hang on…” Ada picked up the wrapped kitten and began vigorously rubbing it through the towel. After a few seconds she checked the kitten again. Nothing. “It worked on 101 Dalmatians.”

A tear slipped down Hecate’s cheek. Then another. “What if I try…” She placed the tip of her finger on the kitten’s chest and loosed the tiniest stream of magic. The kitten jerked but nothing else. She did it again. This time the kitten jerked and then let out a very weak – but very angry – meow. “It worked!” She wiped more tears away with the heel of her hand. “Place a warming spell on the towel, Mrs. Cackle.” She leapt to her feet and hurried over to one of the cauldrons that had been set up for making the kitten inoculations. “Miss Cackle, if you’ll please gather some dried milk thistle… some echinacea…” She thought a moment. “Some burdock, I think.”

Ada was already collecting jars. “How about some dandelion to stimulate her appetite?”

“Very good.” Hecate already had the cauldron heating by the time Ada dropped the jars on the table. She summoned her mortar and pestle and began grinding the dried herbs into a fine powder.

“An infusion?” Ada asked, marveling at the speed with which Hecate’s hands flew.

“Eventually, when there’s proper time for it. For now, a decoction. It will be ready faster.” She measured out the ground herbs and added them to the cauldron. “We’ll need milk replacement. I can—”

“I’ll go have Mrs. Coriander make some up, if she hasn’t already,” Alma broke in. “I’ll transfer it back to you.” As she left, she pointed at Ada with her glasses. “You’d be wise to learn what you can from this one. See if you can talk her in to getting her credentials while you’re at it.”

Ada and Hecate looked at one another once Alma was gone. The soft bubbling of the cauldron was the only sound in the cottage, save for the occasional weak mewling of the kitten.

“Are you all right?” Ada asked. “It looked like—”

“I’m fine. Truly.” Hecate sniffed and tapped her spoon against the side of the cauldron. She waved a hand and cut the heat. “I just… I hate to see such a small animal suffer because its mother rejected it.”

“Her. Her mother,” Ada gently corrected. “Mother said she was a girl.”

Hecate wiped her eyes one last time before she ladled out a few ounces of the decoction. “Will you fetch me a dropper, please? Do you remember where they are?”

Ada nodded, thinking there was a lot more going on inside Hecate Hardbroom’s head than an abandoned kitten. “In the second drawer on the left.” She grabbed a dropper and joined Hecate on the sofa where she now sat cradling the kitten against her chest. “She’s a beautiful little girl, isn’t she?”

“Let’s hope she grows into a beautiful cat.” Hecate took the dropper and filled it with the decoction and then cooled the mixture with a spell. “Here we go, little one,” she cooed. “This will make you feel better.” Drop by drop, Hecate coaxed the liquid into the kitten. Ada watched as the serious young woman transformed into a fluffy pile of cuteness as she cuddled and coddled the kitten.

A glass jar appeared on the kitchen table. “There’s the food. Do you want to give her some now?” Hecate nodded, so Ada went to get it. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched Hecate feed two droppers of food. Finally, she tore herself away and set about turning one of the garden baskets into a kitten bed.

Hecate lingered over the kitten, adjusting and readjusting the blanket until she was satisfied that the kitten would stay warm. Finally, Ada placed a hand on Hecate’s shoulder. “You’ve done everything you can do for her,” she said, comfortingly. “Why don’t we let her rest and get started on the potions for the rest of the kittens.”

Hecate nodded and let Ada lead her back to the worktable.

-----

The ache in Ada’s shoulders burned straight to the bone. She couldn’t stop stirring, though. The kitten inoculations were at a critical stage. Stir too quickly or too slowly – or less than the required one hundred anti-clockwise turns of the ladle – and the potions would be ruined.

Gritting her teeth, Ada risked a glance at Hecate. The woman radiated exhaustion. Right now, she was measuring out ground snail shells while holding a bottle for the kitten balanced on her knees. Thankfully, the kitten had survived for four days now. Unfortunately, that meant Hecate was up feeding her every two to three hours. Most of the time, she schooled her face into its usual serious expression. Now, though, when she didn’t know Ada was looking, the tiredness couldn’t be missed.

At last, Ada counted one hundred. She dropped her arms at once, bringing her hands up to rub her deltoids. “I’m going to feel that tomorrow,” she said, though she knew Hecate wouldn’t hear her. She cut the heat from the cauldrons and left the contents to cool.

“Let me have her,” Ada said, reaching for the kitten.

Hecate started, blinking rapidly before she handed the kitten over. She leaned over and looked in the jar before she frowned and dumped the ground snail shells back into the pestle to measure again.

“Leave it, dear. Come have a bit of tea and a rest.” She squeezed Hecate’s shoulder before moving to settle onto the sofa.

Hecate looked at the mismeasured snail shells and the slight tremor in her hands. “Perhaps for a moment…” She waved her hand and the tea kettle started to whistle. In a moment she had two cups of tea poured. “I believe you take…two sugars?”

“Three.”

Grimacing, Hecate added another spoonful and handed Ada her cup. “We’ve made good progress,” Hecate said, mostly to have something to say. It was harder now, she realized, dealing with people. Gwen had encouraged her to make friends as though it was something easy, like a duplication potion or transference.

Thinking back, it was easy with Indigo – when the adventure and excitement of breaking the rules had cemented their bond. Of course, she’d been Joy then, a completely different person. It had been harder with Pippa. She’d been determined to endure her punishment alone. For reasons she still didn’t fully understand, Pippa had been even more determined that she wouldn’t. Pippa hadn’t been put off by her silence or awkwardness. It didn’t matter if Hecate didn’t know what to say – Pippa kept talking until she did. She wouldn’t let Hecate retreat into silent solitude, not too much, anyway. And Hecate had loved her for that – enough to set her free in the most unequivocal way imaginable.

Ada didn’t do that, at least not as much. For some reason, Ada seemed to want to hear what Hecate had to say, even when Hecate didn’t know what that would be. She didn’t seem to mind the quiet though, and gave Hecate however much time she needed to work it out.

“Hecate?”

“Mp?” Hecate leaned forward, her eyebrows rising in question. Ada had asked her something. She had no idea what. “I’m sorry…”

“I asked if you were all right. I think I have my answer, though.” She stroked the black fur on the kittens back. “You’re overtired.”

“I’m fine.”

Ada raised an eyebrow. “I can smell the Wide-Awake potion from here. You need to get some proper rest. It’s not healthy to go without sleep for so long.” Try as she might to avoid it, Ada could hear her mother’s voice in every word.

Hecate raised a brow of her own. “And I can smell the cigarette smoke from here. You’ve promised to stop. It’s not healthy to smoke.”

Ada held her gaze, keeping her expression stern for a good thirty seconds before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “At least I know you won’t be blowing the smoke up my arse because I’m the Headmistress’s daughter.”

“I’m so sorry!” Hecate said, dropping her head into her hands. “I don’t know what came over me!”

Setting her teacup down, Ada placed a hand on Hecate’s knee. “You’re exhausted. We’ve been working all day on the potions, and you’ve been up all hours taking care of this wee one.” She stroked the sleeping kitten’s back. She pulled her hand back. “Why don’t you let me take her tonight? I’ll see to it she gets fed and you can get an honest-to-goodness real night’s sleep.”

Ada watched the battle between sleep and responsibility play out across Hecate’s face. She decided to try and tip the scales. “You’ll be more efficient tomorrow, you know.”

Finally, Hecate’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “I’m sure you’re right.” She glanced down at the kitten. “You’ll feed her every two hours? And keep her warm?”

“Cross my heart,” Ada said, both relieved and suddenly nervous. She knew how seriously Hecate took her work. She’d only realized yesterday how seriously she took caring for the kitten. Ada had made the mistake of asking Hecate if her familiar would help care for the kitten. Hecate had quietly explained that she didn’t have a familiar. That her familiar, Warwick, had been confiscated after her first infraction. He’d bonded with a girl a couple of years below her, and Hecate had never had another. Ada wasn’t sure if that was due to lack of desire or if it had simply been another part of her ridiculous punishment. “Tell you what, why don’t I finish bottling up the potions from today and get set up for tomorrow. You can finish whatever you’re working on and we can both start fresh tomorrow.”

“That would be… very kind of you.”

At first, Ada thought the early morning sunlight was playing tricks on her. She leaned forward, increasing her speed. She felt the kitten writhe against her stomach; she didn’t like being squashed. Blinking against the wind, Ada realized that it was smoke she was seeing rising above the trees. Exactly where Darkwood Cottage sat tucked into the forest. Green smoke, Ada could see now, definitely a potions accident. She flew even faster, skidding to a stop at the edge of the gardens.

“Merciful Merlin!” she exclaimed when she spotted Hecate sitting on the ground outside with her knees against her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Leaping from the broom, Ada raced to Hecate’s side. “Are you hurt?” She knelt beside Hecate, checking her for injuries. Other than red, swollen eyes, Hecate seemed to be unharmed. “Can you see?”

“Well enough to watch weeks worth of work go up in smoke.” Hecate’s words seemed to claw their way out of her throat.

Ada tried to place a hand on Hecate’s cheek, but she jerked her head away. “Shhh… let me see.” Gently, she pulled Hecate’s head around so she could get a better look at her eyes. Tears streamed down her face. Ada had no idea if they were caused by the smoke or the frustration. “Keep crying, dear. It will flush out your eyes.” She summoned the pitcher of water that usually sat on Hecate’s kitchen counter. “Tilt your head.” Ada boosted herself onto her knees and carefully washed Hecate’s eyes. Finally, Hecate waved her away.

“I’m fine,” she croaked before taking a drink straight from the pitcher. “Such a waste.”

“Do you know what happened?” Ada shifted until she was sitting cross-legged beside Hecate. The smoke streaming out the windows was beginning to thin. At least there didn’t seem to be any structural damage. “Here, someone missed you.” She handed the kitten over to Hecate, who immediately cradled it under her chin. “You’re going to have to give that kitten a name soon.”

Hecate shook her head, tears spilling anew. “That’s a privilege that belongs to her new mistress.” She kissed the kitten’s head, nonetheless. “It destabilized when I added scales from an adder. I believe the scales to be correct; however, it appears I miscalculated when choosing the species.”

“We’ll sort it, Hecate. Don’t you fret. You know I’ll help however you need me to.”

Hecate wiped fresh tears away. “I know. Thank you. Ada.” Perhaps this friendship thing wasn’t so difficult after all.

-----

A week had passed, and Ada and Hecate had fallen into an easy, comfortable working relationship. Thankfully, the damage to the cottage from Hecate’s lab accident had been minimal and they hadn’t lost much time. Once the smoke had cleared, they’d spent the morning cleaning out the spare bedroom, scrubbing the cauldron and casting cleaning spells over everything else. The astringent smell had lingered for a day or two, but they’d managed. Hecate’s eyes remained red and watery even longer, but that had faded as well.

No, the physical damage had been minimal. The toll it took on Hecate, though… Ada sighed as she felt Hecate hovering again. “Any problems?” she asked, forcing brightness into her voice. She couldn’t fault her for being overly cautious, but the constant monitoring was beginning to wear.

“I’m sorry.” Hecate stepped back. “You know everything is correct. You don’t have to humor me.”

Ada smiled, genuinely. “Of course, I do. You’ve only just now stopped looking like you have distemper. I don’t blame you for being extra careful.”

Hecate arched a thin, slightly scorched eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she walked over to the storage shelves to get more swampweed.

It wasn’t there.

She ran her hand along the neatly labeled jars. St. John’s Wort, starfish, stevia, tarragon, toadflax… She checked the list again. “Do you have the swampweed?”

Ada kept her eyes on the immunity boosting potion as it simmered. If it boiled too fast, it would lose effectiveness, leaving the familiars susceptible to a particularly nasty immunodeficiency virus. A familiar with the virus would be unable to resist the effects of stray magic, not so dangerous once the cat – and its mistress – were fully grown. It could be devastating to a young cat surrounded by young witches with poor control, though. “No… I think it was one of the ingredients damaged by the smoke. Absorbed it, as I recall.”

Hecate remembered now. She’d have to gather more before they could make the last potion. Sighing, she turned back to Ada. “We’ll have to replace it before we can brew the next batch of the immunity potion.” It would put them even further behind, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Tomorrow then?” Ada cooled the cauldron a bit. Behind them, angry mewing rose from a basket near the fireplace. “Someone’s hungry.”

“Someone’s always hungry.” Hecate summoned a bottle of the kitten’s food and set to feeding her.

Ada’s stomach growled in sympathy. Hecate wouldn’t allow her to smoke in the cottage, so she’d put her mind to quitting. Now all she thought about was having a cigarette. Or sweets. She’d never had much of a sweet tooth before, but the lack of nicotine left a vacuum that cakes and biscuits were filling with a vengeance.

“Ada! She’s opened her eyes!” Hecate held the kitten up for her to see. “Look at you, little blue eyes,” she cooed. “You’re getting to be such a big girl.”

Shaking her head, Ada added one sliver of cat’s claw root to each cauldron. No one would ever believe that the stoic Miss Hardbroom would ever talk baby talk to a kitten. Even watching it happen, Ada wasn’t sure she believed it.

She knew the kitten wasn’t out of the woods yet, but it had been more than a week now and she was still alive – growing even, though she remained far smaller than the other kittens. Ada certainly hoped the kitten continued to thrive. She shuddered to think how Hecate would react if she didn’t survive.

At last, the potion turned clear and Ada could cut the heat entirely and leave the cauldrons to cool. She glanced out the window, eyeing her smoking log with longing. She settled for broken biscuit pulled out of her jacket pocket instead.

“I have more nutritious food, Ada.”

“I’mpf shurr you doo,” she said around a mouth full of biscuit. She swallowed. “I don’t want anything nutritious, though.”

Hecate looked up from where she’d been wriggling her fingers in front of the kitten’s eyes. “I expect you want one of your loathsome ciga-rrrrettes.”

“More than you can imagine, thank you for reminding me.” She decided to let the overly dramatic rolling of the ‘r’ in cigarette pass without comment. Ada scratched at her scalp with both hands, making her already wild hair even wilder. She needed to change the subject. “About the swampweed… What do you say we go gather more tomorrow? This time of year, there should be plenty at the south end of the lake. I could stand to gather a few other plants myself. How would you like to make a day of it?”

“A d-day?” Hecate looked behind her, as though Ada might be talking to someone else. “I don’t… I can’t imagine you’d enjoy spending the day with me.”

Ada’s face softened. “Then you need to broaden your imagination. I’d like nothing better than to get out of these four walls and into the sunshine and enjoy the lake, a bit of nature, and perhaps even a picnic. And I am quite certain that I will enjoy all of those things even more whilst in your company.”

Hecate wanted to argue, to demur, to make some sort of excuse… But in her head she could hear Miss Bat saying – very clearly – not to overthink this and simply say yes. “Very well.”

“Splendid!” Ada clapped her hands. “Meet me in mother’s office just after dawn. We’ll let her kitten-sit for the day.” She saw Hecate hold the kitten closer. “You can leave her detailed instructions.”

The sun had been up for ten minutes, and Ada was beginning to think that Hecate might not come. Had she pushed her too much to take a day off? She moved to the window, scanning the tree line. She stole a glance at her mother. She’d expected to find her irritated, both with the hour and with Ada. Instead, she sat serenely at her desk, sipping her tea.

“You’re going to worry yourself into a right state, Ada. She’ll be here.” Alma summoned a pastry and nibbled at the edges. “I’m so glad you ordered from Cosie’s. It’s been ages since I’ve had one of their butteries.”

“That’s why I ordered double.” Ada forced herself away from the window. “You don’t think I pushed her too hard about it?”

“It’s possible. It’s also possible I’ve been so keen to give her privacy that I’ve allowed her to isolate herself.” She conjured a plate and placed her pastry on it. “Don’t think of it as pushing her in a direction she doesn’t want to go. Think of it as pulling her along an unfamiliar path.”

Before Ada had a chance to respond, Hecate transferred into the office, appearing with a soft pop. “Apologies, Ada.” She held up a woven basket with one hand and a bulging satchel with the other. “I underestimated how long it would take to feed the kitten and gather her things.”

“Aye,” Alma said, shooting Ada a knowing look. “Children will do that to the best laid plans. It doesn’t matter how furry the child in question may be.” She took the basket from Hecate and peered inside. “She looks a great deal better than she did last time I saw her.” Alma eyed the satchel. “Are you sure you brought enough supplies? She’ll be here most of the day.”

Ada tried to stifle a snort with her hand but failed miserably. Hecate colored. “I didn’t know what she’d need.”

“Never you mind, Miss Hardbroom,” Alma said briskly. “I’ve tended kittens before. Get on with you then.” She gestured towards the door. “Have a good time.”

Ada transferred them to the front gates before summoning their brooms. In no time they were airborne, skimming over the treetops. Hecate’s hat sat smartly atop her head, but Ada had left her auburn hair loose and she relished the feeling of it streaming behind her. There would be hell to pay later when she tried to brush it, but right now she didn’t care.

She grinned across at Hecate and was rewarded with a full smile. The younger witch sat easy and relaxed on her broom – her form was impeccable. Ada remembered seeing Hecate’s name on more than one trophy for broomstick aerobatics. She noticed Hecate slowing and pulled up herself.

“We’re nearing the edge of the Academy grounds,” Hecate explained, looking embarrassed.

Ada circled around and pulled her broom alongside Hecate’s. “Can you feel it? The boundary?”

Hecate nodded. She didn’t like to talk about it, but she didn’t sense any malice from Ada, only curiosity. “When I get too close there’s a… thrumming… in my chest. The closer I get, the more powerful it becomes.” And more painful, she thought.

“We want to avoid that, then.” Ada thought for a moment. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Tried what?” Hecate asked, even though she knew exactly what Ada was asking her.

“To leave the grounds.”

Half a dozen times at least, she thought. “Once or twice. It isn’t pleasant.” She remembered the first time she’d tried it, less than a week after the sentence had been imposed. Her skin felt like it had been on fire, while her muscles spasmed and her head felt like it had been stuffed with an angry hornet’s nest. She’d been immediately transferred into Mrs. Cackle’s office, sobbing and gasping for breath. She didn’t know what she’d expected when she’d looked up into the Headmistress’s shocked face, but it hadn’t been getting helped gently to the sofa or the tea and biscuits she’d received.

“No, I don’t imagine that it is,” Ada said softly. “I’m sorry if you don’t care to talk about it. I’d just rather learn about it from you. But please, dear, don’t hesitate to tell me to mind my business.”

“I – I don’t mind. Really.” And Hecate was surprised to find that she didn’t. Ada might be curious, but she didn’t make Hecate feel like a curiosity. “We should get on with it, though. The swampweed can be gathered at any time, but it’s most potent if it’s picked at noon.”

“Quite right, Hecate, quite right.” Ada glanced at the sun, which still hung low in the sky. “We should be able to restock our sneezewort, slug’s eggs, and ninetailed mushrooms before we head to the pond.”

By the time they made it to the shady end of the lake, Ada was more than ready to roll up her trouser legs and wade into the water. “It’s a bit warmer than I expected.” She stepped into the cool water. The morning had been most pleasant, save for an unfortunate incident with the sneezewort. They hadn’t talked much, but the quiet had been comfortable. Ada had watched Hecate’s shoulders loosen, and she’d smiled more as the morning progressed. Once, Ada thought she’d heard her humming to herself as she’d picked a basketful of mushrooms. “I don’t know about you, bu – bu – BUCHOOO!” Ada sneezed for the umpteenth time since she’d stumbled into the patch of sneezewort. “Bloody hell, will it never stop?”

“It should wear off… eventually,” Hecate smirked. “I told you that you were trying to carry too much at once.” She magicked her skirt into a pair of shorts and followed Ada into the lake.

“So you did.” Ada spied a particularly robust growth of swampweed and waded over to pick some. “Be careful, the bottom is a bit mossy o – o – OOOCHOOOO!” Ada’s sneeze knocked her off balance, sending her teetering on the edge of falling, arms flailing, basket of swampweed flying into the air. With a great splash she toppled onto her arse in the water.

“Ada!” Hecate hurried over, slipping and sliding, nearly losing her balance herself.

Trying to stand, Ada slipped again, this time tumbling headfirst into the swampweed. She came up sputtering, her hair sopping wet and hanging in her face. “Bugger all,” she wheezed.

“Are you hurt?” Worried brown eyes roamed over Ada’s face as gentle hands flipped her hair back so she could see.

“Only my pride.” Ada wiped the rest of her hair out of her eyes. She looked Hecate up and down where she stood, thigh deep in the water beside her. “You’re too dry.”

“What? I don’t know what you—” Too late, she saw the mischievous glint in Ada’s eye. “No, no, no!” She tried to scramble away but slipped as well, plopping into the muck beside Ada.

“There you go! That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Hardly,” Hecate groused, splashing a face full of water at Ada. Belatedly, she realized what she’d done. “I’m so sorry!”

Ada carefully plucked a bit of swampweed from her cheek. “Oh. You will be.” She splashed Hecate back. Within seconds the pond erupted in all-out war – water and muck flying as each woman squealed and tried to inflict as much damage as possible.

Each time Hecate tried to stand, Ada would push her back over. Finally, Hecate retaliated by dunking herself and grabbing Ada’s feet, tipping her over and dunking her before she retreated to deeper water, Ada in hot pursuit.

Ada tried to catch up, but Hecate was faster. She beat Ada to the bank, scrambling up and collapsing in a fit of laughter. Finally, Ada managed to crawl up beside her, flopping on her stomach in the sun.

“You… look… like an… absolute… bog witch,” Hecate gasped, laughing so hard she was crying.

“Have you seen you?” Ada said, giggling as she pointed at Hecate’s mud-caked knees and what was left of her bedraggled bun.

Hecate looked down at herself, causing the rest of her bun to flop forward into her face. She laughed even harder, tears streaming down her face. She tried to wipe them away but succeeded only in smearing more mud across her cheek. She shifted until she was on her back next to Ada. Still giggling, she turned to look at her. “Thank you for inviting me, Ada. I needed this.”

“We both did, I think.” Ada closed her eyes, basking in the sun. “We both did.”

-----

They were everywhere. Moving, writhing… meowing. “How on earth are we meant to keep them all straight?” A quick check over her shoulder told her Hecate didn’t share her concerns. In fact, the younger woman looked quite serene, save for the tiny, bemused smile on her lips. “There’s something about all this that you aren’t telling me.”

“Have you really never done this before?” Hecate couldn’t believe it.

“I told you, we weren’t allowed.” She fussed with the cuffs of the long-sleeve denim shirt Hecate had recommended she wear. “The one time Mother allowed us to help, Agatha had them so riled up before we’d even started that she called the whole thing off for the day. Needless to say, we were shuttled far away each time after that.”

“I would think so,” Hecate said, smirking.

Ada rolled her eyes but said nothing. It had been four weeks since they’d begun brewing potions for the kittens, and now it was time for their first doses. Ada had no idea how to manage it. Hecate had been seeing to it for the past several years and had been subtly teasing her about it.

Hecate hadn’t been as open and free since that day at the lake, but she’d seemed more at ease with Ada. She smiled more often, laughed occasionally. Rarest of all were the times Hecate would gently tease Ada. Even her mother had noticed the change. Speaking of… Ada thought.

“Mother did say she was coming, didn’t she?”

“Not exactly,” Hecate reminded her. “She said she’d send reinforcements.” A plaintive yowl sounded from the doorway. “And I believe said reinforcements have arrived.” She knelt down and rubbed the ears of Alma Cackle’s crotchety old familiar, Astra. “Good morning, Mr. Astra. Don’t you look handsome today.” Astra rubbed his head against Hecate’s palm before turning and biting her thumb. “Ouch! That’s enough of that then.” Hecate stood up and cast a quick healing spell on the bite marks. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

Ada watched the exchange, puzzled. “She sent Astra? How… what… We already have enough cats!”

“If you send for Pendle, he can learn to help as well.” Hecate opened the box holding the phials and droppers. “Wouldn’t hurt to be prepared for when your mother retires.” Hecate looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. “She will you know, like it or not.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ada said, sighing.

She picked up the nearest kitten and carried it over so Hecate could squirt a dropper full of the first potion, then the next and then the last. By the time the third dropper came ‘round, the kitten wanted no part of it. Ada struggled to hold it still enough for Hecate to administer the dropper, getting rewarded for her efforts with a handful of scratches. She healed them before picking up the next kitten.

Slowly, they made their way through the kittens. Ada tried to keep track of which ones they’d dosed but was lost by the third one. “We should have marked them,” she said.

“If we didn’t have Astra, that would certainly be true.” Hecate turned to Alma’s cat, who sat in a square of sunshine, lazily licking his leg. “Would you please fetch the next one?”

Alma watched as Astra slowly climbed to his feet, stretched magnificently, and ambled over to a kitten that was busy chasing its tail. He gave it a sniff and a lick before grabbing it by the scruff of the neck and dragging it over to Ada.

As the morning progressed, Astra dragged kitten after kitten to Ada. Almost every time the routine was the same: a sniff, a lick, and a grab followed by Hecate dosing and Ada bleeding. She’d drain her magic dry healing scratches before the day was over. At last, only one dose was left.

“Where’s the last one?” Ada asked Astra. Unsurprisingly, Astra didn’t answer. “Twenty kittens, twenty phials, correct?”

“That is correct.” Hecate turned to Astra, waiting with her arms crossed. After a moment, he hopped off the table and went to stand near the corner. “I should have guessed. Thank you, Astra.” She turned to Ada. There’s always one that manages to hide away in the far corner. I’ll be right back with it.”

Hecate crouched behind the table before crawling under on her hands and knees.

Just as Hecate disappeared, Geraldine Gullet stepped into the kitten room. “Potions day for the little ones, hey? That’s quite the job. You should have asked me for help.” None to gently, she nudged a kitten aside with her boot. “At least you don’t have that Hardbroom girl with you – strange one, she is. What sort of a witch doesn’t have a familiar?” She lowered her voice and leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “I tell you there’s something not right about that one. Mark my words. You’d do well to give her a wide berth.”

Ada’s eyes narrowed. “While I appreciate your concern, I believe I’ll keep my own counsel as far as Miss Hardbroom is concerned.”

Geraldine shrugged and made her way back to the door. “Suit yourself, then, but don’t say I didn’t warn ye. Anyways, if you see her, tell her Mrs. Cackle is looking for her. She’s got a visitor – that same stuffy old toff that comes every year about this time to meet with her. Don’t know what that’s about, but it can’t be anything good. Mind yourself, Miss Cackle.” She closed the door with a click.

Ada hurried to the corner as Hecate slowly rose to her feet, holding the recalcitrant kitten. “She’s right you know… you would do well to give me a… wide berth.”

“Nonsense. I’d be a poor witch indeed if I took Geraldine Gullet’s advice over the evidence of my own two eyes.” She waited for Hecate to dose the last kitten. “About that woman…”

Before Hecate could find the words, the door opened again. This time it was Alma, followed by a woman Ada had never seen before. She certainly fit Miss Gullet’s description of a stuffy old toff.

“Miss Hardbroom,” the woman said, stepping in front of Mrs. Cackle and lifting a hand to her forehead. “Well met, Hecate. It’s been a while.”

“Well met, Mistress Hagsmet.” She glanced quickly at Ada before turning back to the woman. “I believe it’s been a year.”

“Yes.” She smiled gently. “Shall we take a walk?”

“As you wish.” Hecate handed Ada the empty phial and followed Mistress Hagsmet out of the room.

Once they’d gone, Ada turned to her mother. “Who is that woman?”

“Eudora Hagsmet. Remember when I told you that I’d retained a counselor for Joy after the incident?” Ada nodded. “She’s the one. She’s been seeing Hecate since she was thirteen years old. Several times a week to start, then weekly, then monthly. Now I ask her to come once a year. On the anniversary of the day Indigo turned to stone.”

“Today?” Ada wrung her hands together. “She never said a word.”

“Would she?” Alma cocked her head and regarded her daughter. “Aye. I think she would, eventually.” She gestured towards the door. “Come, daughter. Let’s go have a spot of tea.”

As the afternoon crawled along, Ada alternated between sneaking out for cigarettes and going through the motions of sipping tea and nibbling biscuits with her mother. For her part, Alma dutifully ignored the faint odor of tobacco smoke while trying to keep up conversation in fits and spurts. A thought occurred to Ada during one of the bouts of silence. “Is this the tenth year? Since it happened?”

“Eleventh.”

Ada nodded. At least there was that. Ada couldn’t help but feel as though a significant anniversary of it should have been marked somehow. She felt the magic shift as Mistress Hagsmet transferred into Alma’s office.

“I thought I’d take my leave, Alma.”

Alma pushed herself out of her chair and met her in the middle of the room. “Thank you for stopping by, Eudora. How did she seem to you?”

“Now, Alma… you know I can’t discuss our session. How has she seemed to you lately?”

Alma considered her answer. “Less isolated, I suppose. To be honest, you’d do well to ask Ada, my oldest daughter. She and Hecate have been working together on inoculations for the familiars all summer.”

“That may explain it, then,” Mistress Hagsmet said, not unkindly.

“Explain what?” Alma didn’t like the way that sounded.

“As I said, I can’t go into the things we discussed during our session.” She smiled gently at Ada. “I can say I’m pleased that Hecate is increasing her social interactions.” Her smile faded and turned sad. “She could use a friend about now.”

Ada didn’t need to be told twice. She cast out her magic in the direction she thought Hecate to be. Finding her hunch to be right, Ada transferred out of the office.

She appeared at the edge of the clearing where Indigo stood, frozen in stone. She found Hecate lying face-down on the ground. One arm cushioned her face while the other one stretched out over her head, her hand resting on Indigo’s foot. Where she stood, Ada could hear her sobs.

Ada crept closer, careful not to startle Hecate, but not wanting to disturb her either. When she was close enough, she sat cross-legged on the ground. She was close enough to touch Hecate, but she didn’t. Instead she simply waited, letting comforting waves of magic roll off her body. She knew Hecate would feel it.

After a while, Hecate lifted her head and turned her red, puffy eyes on Ada. “I forgot today was the day. How could… What kind of person forgets something like that?” Sobs wracked her body even harder.

“A good person. A person who’s been grieving a long time.” She shifted until she could rest a hand lightly on Hecate’s forearm. She gave it a light squeeze and settled in for a long evening. As long as Hecate was here, she would stay beside her.

-----

“I do wish you’d consider it,” Ada said as she stoppered the last phial of the last dose of Anti-Hex potion for the new familiars. “Just because you have your teaching credentials doesn’t mean you’d have to use them; you’d simply have another option available to you.” She couldn’t miss the dubious look in Hecate’s eyes.

She held the sealed phial in front of the kitten, allowing her to sniff, then lick it. Still small for her age, the now six-week-old kitten had taken to sitting on the edge of the table like a tiny black sentinel, watching them work and occasionally meowing her approval – and once, hissing at Ada when she’d picked up the wrong ingredient.

“Ada. You know… why I’m not suited.” Hecate shifted her eyes to packing up the vaccinations. Tomorrow they’d give the kittens their third and final round of potions.

“Nonsense! Who better to instruct young witches on the importance of adhering to the Code than someone who understands the temptation – and the consequences?” Since the anniversary of Indigo’s turning, Hecate had been more open with Ada about it. She almost seemed relieved to have someone to talk to besides Mistress Hagsmet. “If you’re worried about moving back into the castle, I assure you that wouldn’t be an issue. You could live here in the cottage, but you’d have a full potions lab at your disposal as well as all the ingredients you can’t get as an individual.”

Hecate rolled her eyes as she snapped the satchel closed. “You’re pulling out the large cauldron, I see. That’s hardly sporting.”

“Perhaps not. It makes it no less true, however,” Ada said, thinking back to the incident in question.

It had been just over a week ago when Ada had arrived at Darkwood Cottage to find Hecate in something of a state. After some gentle – but persistent – inquiries, Hecate had finally summoned a letter, which she angrily shoved into Ada’s hands before shutting herself away in the spare bedroom she used as a lab. The letter, from some bureaucrat whose name Ada didn’t recognize, was little more than a form letter denying Hecate’s request to order more adder scales. They were very sorry, but Magic Council regulations required anyone ordering restricted ingredients to fill out a standard form detailing the requester’s background, credentials, and intended use of the requested item. Ada had seen it before; in fact, she’d filled several out while restocking the potions stores for Cackle’s.

She’d knocked briskly on the bedroom door before opening it and letting herself in. Inside, Hecate sat on a stool, leaning over the scattered ingredients of a potion in progress. Compared to the ordered brewing stations in the living room, the overturned jars and disorderly equipment spoke volumes about Hecate’s level of distress. Though Hecate hadn’t said so, and Ada hadn’t asked, Ada was certain that this lab was reserved for Hecate’s most important work: searching for a potion that would restore Indigo Moon.

“Have you tried filling out the form? I’ve done several. I could help.”

Hecate had looked at her with utter despair – despair for herself and despair at Ada’s apparent stupidity. “Do you honestly think I would pass the background check? A witch with a lifetime confinement for misusing magic?”

Embarrassed that she hadn’t realized it herself, Ada snapped back, “Well you got them before! How did you manage it the first time? Or should I not ask?”

She’d seen the change at once, the way Hecate had stiffened and her eyes had shuttered. The way her face smoothed into an emotionless mask. “I’m sorry,” Ada had said at once. “That was uncalled for on my part. It was stupid of me not to realize the problem, and I hate being stupid. I shouldn’t have barked at you, though. It was inexcusable. How can I help?”

“You can’t.” Hecate had whispered.

They’d spent the rest of the day working in strained politeness; Ada cursed herself every time she saw the wariness in Hecate’s eyes. At the end of the day, before she’d mounted her broom to fly back to Cackle’s, Ada had grasped Hecate’s hands and apologized once more. “I am truly sorry, Hecate. I hope that I will be able to earn your forgiveness – and your trust again. Meanwhile, I know how I can be of some small help: let me order the things you need. I know you need more adder scales, but make me a list and get on it straight away.”

It had taken two more days for the wariness to leave Hecate’s eyes and another three before things felt normal. Yesterday, Hecate had shyly given her a list of ingredients that required a permit.

“I suppose you could simply order me to do it,” Hecate said, quietly.

Ada looked up sharply. “What?” Lost in her thoughts, Ada realized she had also lost the thread of the conversation.

“I said you could simply order me to do it. To get my teaching credentials.” Hecate’s voice sounded even, but the rigidness in her posture gave her away.

“I most certainly could not! You may be confined here, Hecate Hardbroom, but that gives me no more authority over you than anyone else.” The tension visibly left Hecate’s shoulders. “I can’t tell you what to do, Hecate.” She grinned ruefully. “That doesn’t mean I won’t tell you what I think you ought to do, though. Apparently, I’m a bit of a busybody. According to Agatha, it’s my worst flaw.”

A smile crept across Hecate’s face. “She’s not wrong.” She summoned a small blue box and held it out to Ada. “But since it’s a flaw I also seem to possess… I’ll try to overlook it. I wanted to thank you for… everything you’ve done for me this summer.”

Ada knew Hecate meant more than just the potions. “It’s been a pleasure.” She took the box, admiring the fanciful bow tying it shut. “You needn’t have…”

“Oh. I needed to, believe me.” She gestured for Ada to open the box. The kitten walked across the table and sniffed the box, gingerly batting at the ribbon with a tiny paw. “That’s not for you, little one.” Hecate scooped the kitten up and scratched behind her ears.

“She can have this part,” Ada said, pulling the ribbon free, shaking it in the kitten’s face, and then dropping it to the floor. She waited as the kitten half climbed, half fell down Hecate’s skirt to chase after it. “She’s definitely a spunky little thing, isn’t she?”

“She’ll make some lucky girl an excellent familiar.”

Ada looked up in time to see a stricken look pass swiftly across Hecate’s face. “Indeed she will,” Ada murmured, as she slowly recognized what had been in front of her for weeks. “In fact, I’d say she—”

“Please, Ada… just… open the box.” She reached over and lifted a corner of the lid, forcing Ada to finish the job or risk having the lid flipped to the floor.

Inside the box sat thirty small doses of a potion Ada didn’t recognize. She picked up one of the phials and uncorked it, sniffing its contents much like the kitten had sniffed the box. Brilliant blue, it smelled faintly of flowers and smoke.

“It’s to help you stop smoking,” Hecate supplied. “You take one phial each day, in order.” She turned the bottle in Ada’s hand so she could read the label: Day Seven. “I mixed lobelia to mimic the nicotine, mugwort to negate any jitteriness and to help you relax. It also contains passion flower to ease the symptoms of withdrawal, like your cravings. Perhaps you won’t need quite so many biscuits.”

“Hecate… I can’t… you made this? I mean, you came up with the potion? For me?” Ada couldn’t even begin to imagine the time Hecate had spent on this. On her.

“You’ve been… kind to me… No.” She shook her head, frowning at herself. “You’ve been the first friend I’ve had in years. I’d like to keep you around.”

“Stacking the odds in your favor?”

“Bringing out the big cauldron,” Hecate replied, grinning broadly now.

Ada tucked the phial back into the box and replaced the lid. “I’ll start it first thing in the morning.” She leaned over to pick up the ribbon but saw that the kitten was busy wrestling it into submission against Hecate’s foot. “I think I’ll just leave the ribbon here.”

Hecate’s smile faded. “I’ll bring it tomorrow when I come to dose the kittens. I’ll bring her too. It’s time she joined the others to get ready for her new mistress.”

“Hecate,” Ada said, gently. “She has a mistress.” Ada leaned across the table, bending down enough so she could look up into Hecate’s eyes. “You.”

“My familiar was confiscated.” Hecate wiped a small tear away as it slipped from her eye. “I – I couldn’t choose another.” A second tear joined the first.

“I understand. I’d never be able to choose another if something happened to Pendle. But sometimes it’s not up to us. Sometimes, it’s the familiar who does the choosing.” She gestured down at the kitten who was now waging a great battle against the hem of Hecate’s skirt. “You, my dear, have been chosen.”

Stifling a sob, Hecate bent down, picking up the squirming kitten with as much reverence as possible. “You’re sure?” She paid no attention to the tears tracing down her cheeks and dripping onto the kitten.

“Positive. Now, it’s high time this little girl had a name. What’ll it be?”

Hecate held the kitten up in front of her face, staring into eyes that hadn’t quite yet decided if they would be green or yellow. “Morgana. Her name is Morgana.”

“An excellent choice.” Ada reached out and scratched the kitten’s haunches. “Well met, Morgana Hardbroom. Well met, indeed.”

#hackle summer trope challenge #tww2017 #hackle #hecate hardbroom #ada cackle

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poppibranchlover · 4 years

Text

Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 28

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 27. Now get ready for Part 28!:

In her beloved pod, Poppy sat on her bed, feeling hopeless with memories of Branch still stuck in her head. After spending a lot of time hiding her sadness from her friends, she wanted to go straight to bed to make herself better.

But it didn’t. Instead, she just sat there with one hand holding her chin, waiting for the right time for Branch to arrive and help her soon. She slumped down on her pillows and whispered “Oh, Branch. If you were there to help me recover this lost Archaeo morphisis mushroom, I always knew you were this one Troll to count on. I can’t handle this by myself, unless I need your help.”

It is true. Poppy really needs Branch’s help on this mystery of the disappearing Archaeo morphisis. Without him, she didn’t know what to do. She continued to ponder for a solution when the door of her pod knocked with a mighty bang.

KNOCK!!! KNOCK!!!

Poppy quickly sat up, startled by the sound. “Branch, is that you?” she asked hopefully. She wondered who could be answering the door. Could it really be him?

Rushing to the door, she turned the knob and opened it, ready to greet the Troll who visited her. But instead of a blue pointed-eared Troll with a green vest and brown shorts, Poppy’s face fell when she looked down and saw a tiny yellow Troll.

“Sorry, Poppy. It’s just your best friend, Smidge,” she told her sadly. “Branch can’t be far from found right about now. I heard you’re thinking about him, huh?”

“Smidge? What are you doing here?” Poppy asked. “It’s getting late because all the Trolls were asleep.”

“I came here to see how are you feeling. Perhaps filling in as Branch would be a nice fitting welcome, don’t you think?” Smidge suggested, hoping that Poppy would get her brilliant idea.

“You’re doing great at supporting me every day, but somehow I feel lost without Branch.” Poppy turned away from her and walked away, pressured by all the depression she had put into her brain.

Smidge walked up to her, not wanting to hesitate further. “You can’t just give up now. You’re the queen. You have to think of something to avenge what you’ve lost.”

“But I don’t want to avenge the only person I ever loved!” Poppy protested, holding her arms up. As tears welled up in her eyes, she quickly turned away, not wanting to show how sad she is in front of Smidge.

She decided to move on to the current subject as the pain continued to fill in her mind. “I could really use your help, Smidge,” she said. “The fate of my village depends on that last existing Archaeo morphisis.”

Smidge put her arm to her shoulder. “Cheer up, Poppy,” she told her gently. “Why don’t you play with Mr. Tickle. It will help you feel better. Besides, your pet cat is so cute that I want to cuddle him up too!”

This idea made Poppy lit up with determination. She turned to Smidge and exclaimed “Good idea!”

Poppy started to walk to Branch’s cat bed, certain that playing with her pet cat would always help cheer her up. As she approached the tiny bed, she started to say “Mr. Tickle, I’m really sorry for leaving you this way once again. But I want to play with you so I can make myself happy—”

But when she looked down at the cat bed, she realized that it was empty! Poppy gasped in horror.

“Mr. Tickle?!” she cried, upset that her beloved pet is missing again. “Hey, where did he go?”

“Oh my gah!” Smidge shouted upon seeing the empty bed. “Not again!”

Poppy frantically looked around her room, rummaging through her furniture in search of Branch. “Mr. Tickle?! MR. TICKLE?!” she called. “Where are you, my sweet baby? Don’t run off again! I know you’re hiding somewhere!”

Smidge helped her search around, but she couldn’t find Branch anywhere in her room. “We searched everywhere around the entire pod,” she said. “Your cat is not here!”

“Well, maybe he should be outside!” Poppy told her. “Please check carefully, Smidge. He might be there.”

The tiny Troll did as what she had told, peering through the bookshelves and stacks of scrapbooks. The two Trolls looked through every table and every pod ornament that a cat might be able to fit in, but they couldn’t find an answer.

Then, Poppy approached her heart-shaped crafting table, in which she got surprised to find that all her materials were scattered everywhere.

“Who touched my scrapbooking equipment?” she demanded, scratching her head with confusion as though someone or some cat might have touched her scrapbooking materials without permission.

Poppy picked up the black crayon that Branch was holding earlier. She can see the little kitty tooth marks in it, meaning that her cat must have used her crayon. Sorting out the mess, she found the note that Branch had made. “What is this; a note…from Mr. Tickle?”

Now this made Poppy even more confused. Cats don’t write! she thought. But she is now certain that this cat can write a letter to her. She quickly picked up the note and began to read from Branch’s untidy handwriting.

“Poppy, It’s your friend Branch! I AM NOT DEAD! SEND HELP! - Mr. Tickle”

Peering below the handwriting, Poppy can see a scrapbook version of Branch touching a miniature felt cutout of a Archaeo morphisis mushroom, and followed by an arrow was a felt cutout of her cat; Mr. Tickle.

After she finished reading the note, Poppy had wide eyes, with her mouth open without believing the horrifying truth:

Branch was Mr. Tickle, and Mr. Tickle was Branch. They were the same!

Smidge saw her standing speechless beside her table and holding on to her note. “Poppy, what’s going on?” she asked, concerned. “What are you reading in that piece of paper?”

Poppy took a moment to think about what she memorize from what this note was telling her. “If Branch is really the one who took out the Archaeo morphisis and vanished with it,” she said slowly. “Then that means I have adopted a...” Soon she realized something appalling and gasped. “Oh no!” she cried, tears of incomprehension flooding her eyes. Branch was the cat, he was Mr. Tickle and he had hidden the truth from her all the time, thinking that he wanted to be safe from the danger out in the village and chose to be adopted by her in open arms.

In a flash, Poppy ran to the door, still holding Branch’s note in her hands. Smidge tried to catch up to her, following her outside. “Where are you going?” she asked desperately.

“I have to see my father!” Poppy shrieked, jumping her way to the village along with her yellow Troll friend.

Back in the local village dump, Branch led the way, sniffing around and still searching. Wiggles was helping too, but he is hopping behind him with angry paw-steps, refusing to believe that he made changes to his plan.

Branch dug some junk away to see if the Archaeo morphisis was there, but the purple mushroom was still nowhere in sight. He continued exploring the landfill...until Wiggles started complaining “I can’t take it anymore! How long we’ve been exploring? This is a lot harder than I thought!”

“We’ll get there when we get there, Wiggles,” Branch said stubbornly. “We can’t just leave yet until we—Meow!” But as he spoke, his voice began to change again! He gasped and quickly covered his mouth with embarrassment.

“Sweet carrot cider!” Wiggles shouted. “Your voice!”

“Meow!” Branch cried, alarmed by this realization. “Oh my god. I must be running out of time! We gotta hurry!”

They started to move on when Dusty came in with the two Animal Control workers right behind him. Pointing, he said “There they are!”

“Aaaaaaaaah!!!” Branch and Wiggles screamed at the sight of the two Trolls carrying their animal-catching weapons.

Clayton and Garth walk slowly forward with their nets. “Going somewhere?” the orange Troll demanded.

“Let’s get out of here!” Wiggles urged Branch, and the two of them began to flee from the Animal Control officers.

“Hey! COME BACK!!!” Clayton cried as they ran off.

“Get them!” Dusty commanded the officers. Very quickly, the two Trolls sprang into action, chasing after Branch and Wiggles while they wield their weapons above them.

Garth began to take the lead, as he was the first Troll to have captured Branch since the first time he saw him chased by a dog. He and Wiggles managed to keep running and getting away from the officers, panting and frantically looking for a way to escape the dump.

Branch turned back to Garth and Clayton, who were still chasing them, and turned away from them, running with Wiggles by his side. He spotted the toll gate they have entered earlier and sprinted even faster.

“This way!” Branch yelled. “I can see the exit!”

They sprinted closer to the gate when Branch’s eyes suddenly changed into a cat’s and he started trotting slowly. Wiggles ran past him with a burst of speed.

“Meow! Meeeeeeeeooooooowww!!!” Branch meowed as he walked along, unable to pay attention to his surroundings.

Instantly, he shook his head and turned his mind back to normal. He ran after Wiggles and tried to catch up with him. “Wiggles, wait up!” he groaned, snapping out of his cat sense. He was clearly running out of time.

Branch sprinted past a few heaps of garbage and suddenly stopped. He looked around the endless mountains of rubbish all around him as he desperately searched for his little bunny friend.

“Wiggles?! Wiggles?” Branch shouted, trying to navigate his way past the landfill. “Oh, come on. Where are you, Wiggles?!”

But Wiggles is nowhere to be seen. Branch looked back at the Animal Control officers pursuing him and started to run, but then the pain in his forehead came back and he stopped and held on to it with his paw.

“Aaargh! Not again!” he moaned, trying to resist the pain. “Don’t do this to me, stupid mushroom!”

Branch failed to resist and his eyes quickly became kittenish again. With his mind replaced with a cat’s, he meowed, sniffed and changed direction, pulling him away from the path leading to the dump’s exit.

“Meow!” Branch said as he spotted something very tasty in the distance and ran to the delicious smell that distracted him.

Wiggles didn’t realize Branch wasn’t with him until he had made it to the toll gate. “We’re almost there, Branch!” he said triumphantly.

But as he was close to exiting the dump, Wiggles screeched to a halt. He looked around, confused. When he saw that his friend is no longer beside him, he turned back to the landfill area.

“Branch? BRANCH?!” Wiggles yelled, running back to get him. “Oh no! I can’t leave you behind!”

Meanwhile, Branch kept sniffing the air, following his nose. He saw a piece of steak among a huge mountain of garbage and ran to it.

The smell of the meat was too overwhelming for his cat senses that he approached it and sniffed, anticipating the moment to take a lick on it. It smelled so good.

Branch stuck out his tongue and began to lick it, lapping up as much meat as he wanted to. Wiggles saw him devouring the steak and tried to get his attention.

“Oh no! Kid! Come back to me!” he yelled, waving his paws. But Branch couldn’t hear him and kept focusing on eating the steak.

Wiggles tried shouting even louder. “Listen, this isn’t you! Please get back to your own brain again! STOP ACTING LIKE A CAT, YOU HEAR ME?!”

Once again, no response. Branch kept licking up the steak. Suddenly, a large shadow holding up a long object that looked like a metal restrainer loomed over him. Wiggles gasped and saw Garth as he got ready to capture Branch.

“Here, kitty kitty,” he sneered, satisfied that the steak had distracted him.

Wiggles shook his ears in dismay. “Yikes! Watch out, kid!” he cried. “He’s gonna tie you up! Look behind you!”

Branch just kept lapping up the steak, oblivious that Garth is already behind him. When he raised his restrainer up, he stepped on a plastic bottle, startling Branch and snapping him out of it. As his eyes quickly turned back to normal, he looked around, confused at what he had been doing.

“HUH?! What happened?” asked Branch, frowning.

When he looked up, he saw Garth staring down at him! Branch gasped.

“You!” the green Troll shouted.

Branch arched his furry back upwards and screeched. “MEEEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWRRRR!!!!”

“Easy, easy, it’s okay,” Garth said. “Just hold still!”

“RUN, BRANCH!!!” Wiggles yelled.

Panicking, Branch tried to get away, but it was too late to do so when...

“GOTCHA!!!”

Garth slipped his restrainer at the end of its pole around Branch’s neck! Branch struggled to get free, but the metal restrainer was too tight to come off. “Meeeeeeeeooooowww!!! Meeeeeeooooowww!!! Meeeeeeeeeooowwwwrrrr!!! MEEEEEEOOOOOOWWWW!!!” he screeched in pain, trying to release himself.

“Come on!” Garth told him, struggling to prevent him from moving. “Settle down!”

The same Animal Control worker who had thrown a net to Branch in his first day as a cat had caught him once again. He tried to get free, but he couldn’t.

“Let me go!” Branch screamed, squirming in the restrainer’s grip. “Wiggles, help me!”

Wiggles hopped in front of Garth, ready to defend his best friend. “Oh no, you don’t, you crazy-eyed cat-snatching doofus!” he cried. “Let him go! That’s my best friend!”

He hopped over to the Troll’s leg and bit into it with his teeth! CHOMP!!!

Grunting angrily, Garth swung his leg and kicked Wiggles away, sending him flying into the air and landing on a heap of garbage just far from him! “Get off me, bunny!” he yelled.

“WIGGLES!!!” Branch screamed as loud as he could that his lungs would tear up so badly. He watched helplessly as his bunny friend disappeared somewhere far in the mountains of garbage.

He tried to fight back, tossing Garth back and forth as he managed to hold on to his restrainer. The green Troll called out to his partner “Hey! Forget about the little guy! Help me out here!”

Clayton rushed over to his side to help him. “I got this, Garth!” he said, holding out a tranquilizer dart gun. He aimed it directly at Branch and began to shoot out a dart.

THWOCK!!! PFT!!!

Branch felt a sting on his back. He slowly withdrew the dart that Clayton had just launched, feeling his mind fall asleep. With a desperate groan, the poor little kitten struggled to break free from the restrainer as his legs became heavier from the effect of the tranquilizer dart.

Finally, he fell to the ground, half-conscious. His vision became blurred as he can see his way out in the distance.

“Arrrgh…no…” Branch groaned as he gritted his teeth, trying to resist the dart’s effects, but it was so strong he is completely losing consciousness.

With the tranquilizer dart slowing him down, Garth removed the restrainer from Branch’s neck. Clayton reached down and picked him up.

“Wow! Would you look at the size of that kitten?!” he said proudly, celebrating their successful capture. “It weighs TONS!”

Garth looked at Branch and patted his head, but he didn’t like it so he glared at him. “Yeah, I’m really glad he’s done enough running for now!” he replied.

“Meow! Meeeooow!” Branch moaned, desperately wanting the Trolls to let him go as the tranquilizer dart’s effects started to weaken him. But it was no use. He couldn’t escape Clayton’s grip.

Wiggles climbed out of a plastic container and ran after the Animal Control officers. He arrived just in time to see them putting Branch in a metal cage and locking him in. “No, no, no! Branch!” he yelled, hopping to the cage to free his friend.

Branch, dazed from the tranquilizer and scared at being locked up again, saw Wiggles approaching and reached out his paw. “Please help me...” he managed to say weakly, just before Garth and Clayton carry his cage and walked away to their van.

“BRANCH!!!” Wiggles howled, trying to catch up to the two Trolls. “KID!!! NO!!! NOOOOOOO!!!”

But he was too far from the Animal Control officers that he watched helplessly as Branch was taken away at the hands of the two animal snatchers and was already gone and out of sight.

“Branch, no....” Wiggles said sadly, his heart breaking that he couldn’t watch it anymore. He sat alone in the midst of the rubbish, completely out of breath.

He hung his head and his ears drooped with devastation. His best friend couldn’t be gone forever...could he? The idea was almost too much to bear.

“Oh, Branch! How did I do this to myself?” he said, shaking his head. “He should have listened to me!”

Wiggles wanted to sit here and cry at the loss of his friend. Deep down, he always wanted a friend to prevent him from getting lonely, and now he had lost him forever. He slumped down when a bright flash of purple light shone before his eyes, making him turn around to find the source of the purple beam.

Following the light, Wiggles saw it glowing in a huge heap of garbage. He quickly hopped toward it, hoping not to follow the scary whispers that emitted from underneath the trash.

Climbing on top of a broken television set, Wiggles stepped forward to take a peek at the light. He heard familiar muffled whispering inside.

This time, the whispering looked a lot different than before the Archaeo morphisis mushroom was even plucked out. “Help him....get him back.....”

Wiggles quickly recognized the purple object immediately. Digging out some trash, he pulled out something that turned out to be Branch’s discarded berry basket, with the Archaeo morphisis still inside! At last, he had found it!

“Ooooh! Sweet mother of shroom!” Wiggles cheered, bouncing up and down with anticipation. “I found it! YES!!!”

But then, he forgot that Branch wasn’t there with him. “But, wait! What about Branch?” he asked. “He’s taken away! What am I gonna do now?”

Wiggles took a deep breath and tried to find a solution. “Branch needs my help,” he said to himself. “But not just my help...” It didn’t matter that he hadn’t agreed on things in the past. Branch needed help, and he knew the most important person that could help him.

He hurried over to the Archaeo morphisis mushroom and picked it up in his mouth. “I better inform the Queen,” he said. “She’ll know what to do.”

Then, Wiggles ran as fast he could, digging his way up the mountains of garbage, his sharp little teeth digging into the purple mushroom for dear life.

After making his way past the rubbish, he found a wire mesh fence that has a big hole in it and made his way through. Then he rushed out of the village dump and deep into the woods, finding his way to Troll Village to look for Poppy.

To Be Continued...

Stay tuned for Part 29!

Reminder: Am I too lonely to cry now? I did my best for this one, and I hope you all would love it because...poor sweet kitten gets taken away once again! 😭🥺💙

#dreamworks trolls #branch #cat #cat branch #branch the cat #wiggles #wiggles the rabbit #cat branch story #nine lives one fight #fanfiction #poppy #smidge #animal control #garth #clayton #dusty

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 4 years

Text

Piper is Allergic to Cats

“And that was the last time that I went out with that guy. What kind of a freak tells his date that she makes his nose twitch?” Piper questioned, finishing up her story as the twosome travelled down the broken paved road. Nora shrugged with an amused grin.

“I don’t know. I had a guy tell me that I buttered his eggroll. Whatever that meant,” Nora recounted, chuckling a bit.

“That’s kinda weird, too,” Piper agreed with a laugh.

Meow!

“What was that noise?” Nora questioned.

“I dunno,” Piper replied, and the two women looked around, trying to find the source of the sound.

“Aha. There’s your culprit,” Piper pointed with a roll of her eyes.

Nora followed Piper’s finger and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight that met her eyes. A tiny, awfully malnourished kitten was standing beside a fallen garbage can, sadly sounding its displeasure and unhappiness at an astounding volume.

“Aww, Piper, a poor, little kitten,” Nora cooed, squatting down and extending her hand carefully.

“Yeah. A cat. Well, we figured out your missing sound. Let’s hit the road,” Piper told her, grabbing the vault-dweller’s arm and attempting to pull her up and along behind her. Nora hardly heard her and instead was completely focused on the animal not far from her.

At her apparent lack of success at pulling the vault-dweller away, Piper put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brow.

“Uh… Blue? You coming?” Nora was still nearly entirely consumed with the kitten’s sad plight.

“Why are we wasting our time with this? It’s just a cat,” Piper finally said frustratedly. That statement drew Nora from her reverie, and she turned to look at Piper with a scornful frown.

“You could be a bit more sympathetic,” Nora told her, scolding laced in the undertones of her speech.

“It’s a poor cat. Happy?”

“Come here, baby. Come here,” Nora gently called, attempting to sweetly coax the kitten into approaching her, and she diverted her attention from the reporter.

Nora heard Piper huff exasperatedly, briskly walking off. For just a moment, Nora glanced in Piper’s direction to ensure the reporter wasn’t going far. When she spotted her leaning against a wall of a nearby crumbling house, Nora smiled a bit and returned to her task of charming the kitten.

To her great surprise, the kitten had gotten closer to her and was looking at her, wide-eyed and nervous.

“Yes, angel, that’s it. I’m not going to hurt you,” Nora told it softly, smiling lovingly.

It looked at her with its pitiful expression and inched a bit nearer until it finally touched her fingers with its nose.

“There you go. That’s it,” Nora reassured, moving her hand carefully and gently stroking its back. It immediately warmed to her hand and began purring loudly, rubbing happily against the appendage.

Nora grinned widely, gently scooping up the kitten and cuddling it. It gladly snuggled into her embrace and softly kneaded the material of her suit.

She could feel her heart melting with its innocent sweetness. At that moment, she thought of the woman waiting not too far from her and how she seemed to be less than enthused with the idea.

Nora nuzzled the kitten and turned with a determined expression, heading for the reporter. The golden-tanned woman fully intended to persuade Piper to love the kitten as much as she did.

Nora walked up to Piper and stood in front of her, cradling the kitten in her arms.

Piper never looked up and instead seemed to have gained a sudden interest in her nails. At that, Nora simply held the kitten out for Piper to take.

The entire time, Piper remained looking down at her fingers.

The vault-dweller knew exactly what she was trying to do and she stepped a little closer to the reporter. The kitten reached its paw out and touched the younger girl’s nose.

Piper immediately looked up. Nora grinned widely, raising an eyebrow.

To Nora’s great surprise, the shorter woman’s face began to contort into a horrid expression. Nora’s eyes widened in surprise and she flinched a bit when a giant sneeze erupted from Piper.

The kitten shook its head vigorously in response, and Nora drew the kitten back to her chest.

After that sneeze came several more. Piper sniffled and wiped her nose with a fingerless glove.

“I’d really like it i-i-i-ACHOO! If you wouldn’t put it in my face any more,” Piper groaned, sniffing hard.

“Piper… Are you allergic?” Nora questioned, concern covering her face.

“Yeah, I am. I’ve been allergic to cats for as long as I can remember,” Piper told her, her nose sounding stuffy.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get your sneezer riled up.” Piper chuckled lowly in response.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. It’ll get better when I get away from the cat,” she replied to the vault-dweller.

“But we can’t just leave it out here,” Nora said, looking at the small animal on her chest with a worried expression.

“You could give it to Curie. She’d love it,” Piper sniffed, scratching at her nose.

Nora grinned widely, bringing Piper into a hug with the little kitten in the middle.

“You’re a genius, Piper!” Nora complimented, holding her against her.

“Tha-ACHOO! Thank you. You think you could let me go? The cat’s all up in my space.” Nora drew away quickly, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Sorry.”

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spacegaywritings · 4 years

Text

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (2/8) “The Naming of the Beast”

Summary: Remy gets home, his day unusually long and body extremely exhausted. Still, he and the cat seem to get along a bit better as they share a bit of time bonding in their weird states.

Tags: mentions of the vet (+ aftermath), abandoned cat, alcohol/wine, tipsy Remy (being a soft man), food/ meat, pain killer mention, drinking, dummy logic, dummy thicc fucking Remy, Remy the cat whisperer, mentions of Kim Kardeshian.. shien..? idk man, slight mention of systemic oppression bc wow Remy is spilling the beans, name talks, cuddling, snuggling, books, mentions of vaccines, soft insults bc Remy, purposefully horrible old english.

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

My KoFi - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.

Story under the cut! (Wordcount: ~3,5k)

It was late when the kitty cat and Remy returned and in all honestly, the receptionist was more than exhausted and done with everything. The whole day had taken a toll on him and interacting with people under bright lights was obviously not the best for a person with photo-sensitivity and self-diagnosed bitch syndrome.

His body was hurting, the pain had gotten more intense and rendered him a heavy and sleepy mess. He still needed to feed the cat. While the pain killers had done some to ease his pain, the extra activity had him feel like absolute trash, after all.

At least, the vet had found the little queen to be healthy and taken good care of. It indicated that there were owners or strangers to take care of the kitten but there were no tattoos, no marks or anything. Whatever care the cat had received before, it seemed to be over now. Nobody was looking for the cat as far as the vet and the local pet shelter have told him.

To make sure the cat would be okay, he got scheduled appointments for vaccinations (the kitty cat already got some that day). In like, a month, he was supposed to come back. Considering the cat was about one year old, it was time to refresh vaccinations anyway, at least that is what the vet said. There was so much information smoking in his brain and it hurt him. It was extra weight putting his head down.

There was no chip for the kitten.. He would set up an ad on-line to show that the cat was found. He and the vet assume the cat to have run away from home or having been left behind after the family moved. Something like that.

Still, he could try so the cat would not really be his problem anymore. There was obviously no name tag or collar. He would have noticed, he is not that fucking dense. The vet, too.

At least Remy got some answers for what the fuck this kitten should eat and could not ever eat because it could hurt.

Also, the cat was a she. Well, too fucking bad Remy settled for they/them pronouns. While he talked to the cat, he could at least practice pronouns he usually did not use much. The cat could not get offended. Totally a win-win situatuon.

The coffee lover curled up on the couch, kitty cat still somewhat drowsy in his lap.To be honest, the cat felt drunk to him, so Remy did not know better but to nurse his own wine while giving the kitten some chicken he had gotten for them.

“Queen, you are a really really unbelievable thing”, he started as he looked at the tiny void in his lap that was currently chewing on a last bit of chicken pieces.

He had removed all that bone stuff and washed off the meat before to make sure it was not seasoned or too greasy and such for the kitten. Totally no need to kill the poor thing when he could just be fucking careful and mind their needs and limits.

“You know, you get all hot on those funny things and you are living with me now - without paying rent - and like, you do not even give me your a name. You are, like, the most mysterious person I have ever met. Fucking rude, you little harlot.”

Remy sipped a bit of his wine and placed the package on the table. Yes, he drank wine out of a package because he was a cheap person. He needed to pay off the flat he had bought because his job did not make the most money ever. At least it was enough for him having a somewhat cozy and stable life.

He carefully shifted under the warm weight of the warm fluff. Remy was so glad the vet cleaned the cat so he did not need to do that. Was that extra service? He definitely paid for this shit, not gonna lie. Well, he would get a bill eventually and then he could still get upset over that. Ultimately, it did not matter right? He had some savings and the cat would be gone soon because it was someone else’s kitty cat.

It was not even in his place to just cuddle with the kitten while watching some bitch flick. But now that he had to ditch his weekend routine for the cat, they had to suck up for it. Also, he was just in a ton of pain by now and hoping for the local wine package to just knock him out well enough. If his senses were numbed, so were his pain receptors because brain foggy when Remy drunk-y.

“Listen up, kitty cat. We might need a name for you, darling”, he started and looked down at how they were licking over their muzzle and nose.

The meal was done and the cat seemed satisfied... The little tongue looked so cute, it was so so pink.

“I mean, maybe you already have a name but calling you queen all the time ..”, he trailed off and shrugged, “you know, don’t know whether you, like, deserve that title to be a name. It is something you earn and live, but you are not just some queen. Except when you are some fucking royal but who the fuck cares about that shit.”

The cat looked up at him and he vaguely looked back before sticking his tongue out and gently brushing through the soft fur of the little monster of coal he sheltered.

“Yeah, right. Fuck the Queen. It is not the same as you being a queen. Anyway, it would kinda not be the same for you to be a queen and to be Queen. You know?“

Remy chuckled as the kitten pushed its head against his ribcage.

“You totally get me, don’t you?”

The kitten meowed in reply and he continued to pet the little ball of softness. The little one even smelled great. Well, now.

“Okay, let us give you a name that fits you. I don’t know, honey. Something fancy but also classy because it is you”, he giggled, “I don’t know but we will find something!”

Remy gently picked up the little kitten and hummed as he stumbled over to the bookshelves. His wine was abandoned and the small void simply meowed in response to his actions.

“You know what, fuck that show. They all suck anyway, honey. Reality TV is just a nice background .. nice, like.. what else would people watch Kim Kardeshian for? Genuine interest? Gurl, it is all about the sounds and sights or plainly being the malicious bitch to gossip and ridicule these people.”

He giggled and settled before the bookshelf, sitting there with the little queen on his arms. Was queen a title, now? Not a name but somehow some kind of pet name, huh.

“You know what, kitty?”, he whispered and the cat shook their head at the sudden sounds and the wet breath Remy offered. They pushed their little head against the man’s collar bone.

“I am that kinda bitch to do all the heavy gossiping.”

He laid down and let the cat rest on his chest. His back was pressed against the dark floor in his reading corner. The curious little cloud looked around and stood up, tail curiously moving from one side to the other. Then it stayed and moved in slow-motion before returning to the other side while staying kinda between low and horizontal.

Cats were so cute.

And the cat really looked like a cloud.

A dark one.

Not a black sheep, a black cloud!

“Storm cloouUuUuUd”, Remy sang softly and the cat turned back to him, letting out a responsive sound in reply.

They understood him! Or were at least annoyed enough to react and give him a “what the fuck” look with all the sassy cat-ness in their bi-coloured orbs.

“Aw!! You react! But that is a long way to go, still, you brooding little dust ghost.”

He blew a little bit off of the cat’s head and brushed it off to make sure it was all clear. Maybe from the chicken or the couch.

He had to cleaaaan, ew. Woooork.

Bad cat. They really be spreading the dust around like a little ghost.

Damn it, he only wanted to find some nicknames for the small being.

“Cat, can’t you do the work for me? I mean, come on, I totally got you to the vet and you got drugged for free. That is a real favour to do for a stranger, gurl.”

The cat looked back up at him.

Oh, how could he have forgotten about that??

“Bitch!”

Remy exclaimed wildly and sat up, simply to fall back into the ground with a dull ‘thud’ accompanying his motions. The insides of his head seemed to be forcefully shrunk together and the tipsy man groaned in annoyance. The pain was so fuzzy and far away, it was basically a street sign on the other side of the street during a day of heavy fog.

All he did feel was the heaviness of his head and the horrible throbbing that came right after he limply dropped into the hard wood again.

“uh… Aw, I am the dumb bitch, here. Kim, save me”, he weakly slurred.

Obviously, he was in about the greatest state to take care of another being, especially one that was just as drowsy as him and slowly processed his sudden movements with flinches away from him.

When the man did not move, the curious guest nudged Remy’s nose with their own.

Had the coffee lover seen it, he would have swooned, probably.

Well, on the other side, he slowly got himself together and carefully shifted again, this time being considerate of his own and the kitty’s needs. He was much slower, lethargic in a way, it would make Sloth itself jealous.

Eventually, he was in position, vision still blurred with blackish spots tainting his view on the dimly lit apartment.

“So- as I was saying… wait”, he started yet trailed off soon after, voice quieting down and light eyes closing.

“uh.. yeah, I know where I left off. So, as I was, uh, saying.. Like, bitch! You are totally as tipsy as I am with all those killers in ya, big boi.”

Once more, his own giggles filled the room while the cat just pushed their head against his chin. The creature somewhat vibrated a bit and it felt oddly funny to Remy. Indescribable sounds came from the little kitty cat. It did not sound like a Queen, not really. It was more like uh.. a cat. Nothing else Remy has ever heard sounded quite like that.

“You uh.. you still need a name, you little void egg, you. Hihi.“

Remy curled and gently cradled the black ball closer. His grip around the cat was secure yet loose. The cloud of nothingness was comfortably sunk into his arms as the man got onto his wobbly legs and moved his jelly sticks closer to the little corner of books and boxes once more.

The kitten did have more than just great taste to hide there when they first started exploring some shit around his flat.

Their flat?

… uhh.. the doc said to look for the original owners.. oh man, he still had to do that on top of all the things he had to do. And he did not even know whether it was worth it but it was much better than just giving the cat over to some shelter.. uh.. cat thingy.. cat orphanage?

Cat orphanage. Sounded like a totally valid word. Yes, Remy, the name was, like, totally not sanctuary. Absolutely it was not. You fucking genius.

The kitten was snuggled up to Remy’s chest, acutely unaware of the change of environment that slowly came around with Remy wandering off their spot to really dive into the corner of his secret reading delights. He was back on the oriel, the space were the floor was not any dark wood anymore but instead carpeted in wine red. This was the only piece of floor in his home that had a little bit of carpet and it just started with a provisional glass door he had put there with more than just a little effort.

Basically, this little corner was a glass globe library with the perfect sight on the snowy streets and other weather conditions throughout life. Due to architecture, he basically had a built-in bench because some oriels build a “dent” into the home which can be used as some kind of elaborate and excessively broad window sill.

It was worth all the work he had put into it.

Whenever he came in to read, it was calm and silent, it was warm but easily adjusted by opening the windows or turning on the heating (considering he did not live in the warmest region on earth at all. In fact, he lived in a more moderate climate and enjoyed the tendency towards coolish temperatures. Despite climate change, there was still snow early in the winter months).

The two curled up on the floor, leaning against a beanbag. Remy was leaning against the beanbag, to be specific. The kitten was curled up on Remy, cuddling into his arms like the hazy bitch they were. The Queen could barely process anything but well, steady ground it was.

Remy was resting on the bean bag, the cat silently meowing at the change of softness around them when the home-owner slowly turned his body for the kitten to slide against the bad with him.

Maybe the cat liked it. Nobody could know anything because the cat was out of it and also, cats were hell-spawns who were not to be understood but worshipped only.

A book was resting in Remy’s lap. When did he pull it there? He did not remember. Maybe it had just settled with him, flying over or whatnot.

The book was one hell of a beast.

Pages upon pages were stacked on top of one another and bound together in the obscene creation of a whole book that held knowledge, big enough to rival a human brain in size - at least when putting this knowledge onto pages in barely readable fonts and size.

“Yo, cat. We need a name for ya, honey.”

He let his head roll to the side and then back into position again. The void looked over at him and seemed to shrug. Maybe Remy was imagining things.

“Uh.. You can’t read that for me, now, can you? Why do people even get cats, man. Like, no offence but is that not why we have human beings? So we socialise and uh .. uh like.. taaaalk and hate one another. Cuz we totaaally need that kinda interaction.”

His voice let the words blend in together, the muffled sentence barely resembling different words or sounds but instead one big hum. Useless blabber, at most. Not that the pet would understand him if he was putting proper effort into talking like a sober and completely sane person.

“Caaat. Caaaat, just learn reading? Give yourself a name, gurl. Independence!”

Yeah, well.. This seemed not to work, in fact, it obviously resembled a fruitless endeavour instead. Much like teaching a donkey how to sow greens, the cat took up Remy’s words and ignored them skilfully. Even in his tipsy mind, he was well aware that an animal would not just magically learn reading and then read out to him. However, the wishful thinking was still in his heart… and his foggy dummy mind.

He reverted to child-like attention spans and reasoning abilities whenever he got to drink just a bit more than a little. And honestly, the wine got a little to him, especially with this bottomless void eating, like, all of this fucking chicken.

He mumbled something about sharing under his breath before he pulled the book closer and heaved it open with his weak noodle power. There was not that much energy left in his heart. He was tipsy and as soft as molten butter.

The book groaned as it was opened, awakening the pages of knowledge from deep slumber.

It willingly dropped the front and backside onto Remy’s lap. It spread like a good partner for the intimate deeds. The excitement of being handled and warmed by a knowledge-seeking person got to it and drove the book to reveal just the right passage for them.

“Names.. Names. Kitty cat, pick a name.”

“mrrrow..?”

“Yeah, hoe, but like, you’re a Queen.. to me and not to others so how about you lemme pick a name, so the mortals can give you their foolish attempts of daring to raise their voice at you without spoiling your title, you void hoe.”

The cat gave him a slow-motion blink of two eyes. These wonderfully coloured eyes.. How were cats allowed to just have such precious gems as eyes. Like.. did he rob some jewellery store thing.. did they have names again, he felt like they had some kinda name and he was supposed to know this and all.

Uh, he would be clever later.

“Alright. This is a name dictionary thing. Like, for when you get a baby and you need to name that little shit, so the system can discriminate against it. It gives you names, you know. You have them according to the alphabet which is a linguistic attempt at bringing order into the way we communicate and organise shit. By the way, this is totally lame because language is fucking liv- ah, uh.. alive. That’s the bitch I was looking for.”

Remy suppressed a burp before he allowed himself to continue.

“Can you .. can you just paw this thing?”

The cat did not move. Uh.. He carefully nudged the little monster. A lazy glare was thrown his way but this is where it stopped. Such a lazy hoe. They would be the bestest of friends very soon.

Seriously, kitten? Not even some dumbass meow sound or whatever? Wow, okay. Selfish much.

He groaned.

Now we was getting upset with a little cat. He made it this far in his life. Instead of diving deeper into any negative feelings, he moved himself. His finger gently tapped onto the paw once more and softly stroked it before putting it onto the page.

“Oh, mine own dearest liege, I has't did summon all the fucks i has't hath left to giveth and ‘t wast enow to maketh.. this miracle! Uh - thou hath moveth thy fucking paw. ”

…Not even that did get the cat to as much as meow at him. At LEAST the void monster spared him a glance of annoyance for his effort. Valid, valid. At least some feedback, thundercloud. Yet, the moment was gone as soon as it came and the kitten then dropped the whole thing and looked down again.

Some sorta ritual to close their eyes and nap away. Even the cat had better living habits than he did.

“Nonononono, dun nap jus yeeeet! V-V … uh..”

He had taken up the name from the book, accepting the fate of the paw and started looking into the decision of the higher spirits. He was ready to act up on whatever the heavens and skies and all that shit have decided for the cat to be named.

The man squinted at the pages.

The top of it said “V”, so he knew that this was the start for their name now. Of course the Queen would be such a diva and end up with a name as unique as starting with such a rare letter. Totally Extra :tm:.

To be fair.. who the fuck used those letters anyway, man.. xylophone? Laaaaaaaaaaaame. Virginia, Voltron, V-.. V…

“Virgil”

Remy blinked.

He blinked multiple fucking times.

The name did NOT, unlike his mind’s stupid expectation, suddenly change into something like, uh, you know,… Jared. Some funny shit.

No, it was still this name. Virgil.

“Is that even a name for a cat who I declare to be gendered in the neutral only? Uh, you know.. whatever, like, it is whatever because you are a QUEEEEEENG.. Queen.. a queen. You just un-rule gendered names. They are stupid anyway, guuurl. Fuck this all.”

“Queen Virgil! Now how does that make you feel, huh?”

The kitten gave him another blink and finally retreated their paw.

“Yeah, my little nightmare goat. We are gonna go nap all night, all day!”

The man giggled again. Then he made sure to just give up and fall asleep like that, curled up on a beanie, kitty cat fur tickling him and doing nothing to facilitate his breathing. All he breathed in was ai- uh.. No.. Virgil’s fur.

Welcome to a change of life, huh?

Or simply: “Welcome, Virgil”.

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cosmiceverafter · 4 years

Text

The Stray by CosmicEverAfter

Michael Guerin is an independent man who doesn’t need much, just the love of a good man. But what happens when something flips his "normal routine" upside down? This is a story about Michael opening up his heart to a stray.

You can find the story on ao3 as well.

THE STRAY

The sun was setting in the sky like paint running down a blue canvas.

Michael sat down in his favorite fold out chair and cracked open a beer. There was nothing like the first sip after a long hard day of work.

He closed his eyes briefly and his thoughts went immediately to Alex…the way they always did when he was awake—and when asleep, he was sure of it.

As he was daydreaming in a calming stupor, that’s when he heard a rustle in the junk pile.

Opening his eyes, he looked towards the sound, but didn’t see anything nor did he hear anything else.

“Hmm…” he muttered, taking another swig of his beer.

Two beers later, Michael went in to warm up his leftovers from the Crashdown. Liz was always calling him over to ask a question but would hand him food.

Sometimes it would piss him off—he didn’t want everyone to pity him, but then Alex had pointed something out: She was just being a friend. He had friends.

Michael still didn’t know what to do with that sentiment and sometimes he just pushed it to the side of his brain into a box of ‘I’ll deal with that later’ and just took the food.

Tonight it was a juicy medium-rare cheeseburger, just the way he liked it, with extra curly fries.

As he took a few bites, he realized how much he wanted Alex there with him—sitting by his side as they ate, reminiscing over their days doing that thing called small talk, then making love on his tiny ass bed for the rest of the evening. But it was getting late, and the two of them had those plans for the rest of the week.

He was fine being by himself for the most part. That’s how it had always been in his life. The difference was he was now more content… at peace.

Michael was about to turn on some music to get out of his own head when he heard a squeaking sound.

He frowned and listened harder. There it was again. Quiet but still loud enough to hear over his chomping.

Raising an eyebrow, Michael slowly opened the Airstream door and looked out. Nothing was there. He was just about to close the door when his boot fell over.

Michael lived in Roswell; it was most likely a snake. But those were his favorite boots, and he’d be damned if he was going to let that poisonous bastard have his way in there.

Squinting, he used his powers to shake the boot. That’s when he heard the little squeak again. One thing he knew for certain, snakes didn’t squeak. Not to his knowledge anyway.

“There better not be a snake in my boot!” Michael yelled. He shook the boot again but this time a little white paw came out.

“Meow.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Michael moaned.

Sure enough, a black kitten with a white bib and white paws slowly crawled out of the boot. The kitten looked up at him and meowed-squeaked again. It was so tiny; he was grateful he hadn’t unknowingly stomped in his boot.

“Um, shoo!” He said, waving his hands, “Go away!”

The kitten just squeaked again.

“Listen, you can’t stay here, okay?”

Big green eyes looked up at him and he felt a burn in his sternum. This kitten was a stray. A stray…just like him—

“Nope.” Michael shut the Airstream door as well as the door to his past and backed away. This was not his problem.

The kitten would survive. Its family was probably out there right now looking for it.

Not. His. Problem.

He took another big bite of his burger and tried to ignore the squeaks right outside the door. Michael turned the music on and finished eating.

After he cleaned up…curiosity took over. He slowly turned down his music and pressed his ear against the door and waited.

Silence.

He smiled a smile that didn’t truly reach his face and ignored that by changing out of his dirty white tee. Lying on the bed, his thoughts drifted once more to the kitten.

Alone.

Having no one care if you’re going to be alright.

No family out there.

“Stop it,” he muttered to himself. This was ridiculous—it was a damn cat after all. He wasn’t going to let the small fur-ball get into his mind like this.

But as he sat there looking up at the trailer ceiling he knew that it was too late for that.

Swearing as he stood up, he pulled the door open angrily. Michael looked around. It was dark and windy outside and he didn’t see the kitten sitting there anymore. He felt a small pain in his chest but tried to ignore it.

That’s when he heard the squeak again.

Michael looked back over at his boot and that little face was staring back at him.

“Got a thing for boots, do ya?” He slowly went over and picked up the boot. The kitten popped its small white paws out and looked right at him.

He was really trying not to be affected by this cat. He really was. But that was clearly out of his hands at that point.

***

Eventually, the kitten was brought inside and he had spent the majority of the night trying to figure out what in the hell a kitten that small eats. He was so excited that he had some milk, only to read it wasn’t good for their digestive systems.

Without another option, Michael pulled his truck out of the lot and went to the nearest open grocery store to find some food for the little fur-ball.

After asking three different people for help, Michael left the store an hour later with wet and dry food, a cat bed, and a few toys. As he looked over at all the bags, he kept reminding himself this was just for the day, then he was taking the cat to a shelter or would try to find an actual home for it. He didn’t want it.

He really didn’t.

Michael drove faster than he probably should’ve and slowly opened the door to his trailer. He looked in the boot for the kitten but it wasn't there. He looked on the bed and in the closet but the kitten wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Had it gotten out somehow?

Michael plopped on his bed and groaned. He was such an idiot.

However, as he stared down at his hands, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head to see where the movement was coming from, he noticed his cowboy hat swaying on the table.

Frowning, Michael got up and walked over to it. Inside was the little kitten curled up in a tiny ball. It looked at him and squeaked.

Ignoring the fact that the little fur-ball looked cuter than hell sleeping in his hat, he lifted the hat up and set it gently on the floor. “Look, I got you a new bed! Much better. And if you have an accident…well just don’t, okay?”

He gently picked up the kitten and ignored the feeling of butterflies when he placed the small kitten on the bed.

“There, that should work.”

Michael sat watching the kitten briefly and smiled, but then his expression slowly changed as the kitten crawled back into his hat. It snuggled into the hat and did a few circles before plopping down and yawning.

“Seriously? I buy this extra comfy bed and you’d rather have the hat?” Michael sighed. “I mean, you do have impeccable taste.”

The kitten didn’t acknowledge him for it was already fast asleep. He decided to let this battle go and made his way to his own bed.

Michael watched the kitten’s small body move slowly up and down taking in each breath. It wasn’t that relaxing or comforting….

Not at all….

***

The next morning Michael woke up to find the little fur-ball curled up at his shoulder. At some point in the night, it had crawled up there. It felt good to be needed and depended on in this way. He wasn’t used to it, but the feeling made him smile.

As if the kitten knew he was awake, it slowly stood up and kneaded its paws into his shoulder and slowly climbed on his bare chest. It nuzzled him and curled up once more, except this time the kitten was looking at him.

“Morning. How’re you doin’, little fella?” He paused, “You are a fella, right?”

Michael knew he needed to take the kitten to the vet, but in doing so, he was saying he was accepting this responsibility. He really wanted to call Alex for some advice first. That man was always his go-to.

Alex picked up on the second ring, “Good morning, my love. How are you? Surprised you’re up so early.”

“Hi, baby. Yea I know. I’m good…well, so….”

“So… what? What’s up? Are you okay, Guerin?”

“Yea, darlin’, I’m fine. It's just I found a little friend, who’s currently with me right now.”

Alex laughed and the sound of it made Michael smile, “A little friend? Okay, I need details.”

Michael told him the whole story and Alex listened in the respectful way he always did. Finally, when he was done, Alex asked, “So what’s its name?”

“Wait, I don’t know if I’m keeping it, Alex. That’s the thing.”

“Sweetheart, you bought a bed, food, and cuddled with it all night—you’re keeping that cat. I think it’s already made a home with you. Plus, it sounds like it needs you.”

“But do I need it?”

“Yes, I think you do,” Alex replied warmly. “So… when do I get to meet the newest addition in my man’s life?”

***

After talking with Alex, it had been set in stone. He couldn’t think of abandoning the little one now. He liked thinking that the kitten found him for a reason. And the more he thought of it, he realized how much he liked that they were both strays coming together to find something more.

He took the kitten to the local veterinarian and found out that his hunch was indeed correct, it was a boy. The kitten didn’t weigh enough, so Michael would make sure it was exactly what it needed to be healthy.

They put a chip on the kitten and he bought a black collar with aliens on it (he couldn’t resist) and a silver tag. Michael contemplated for a bit on what to name it but smiled when the name hit him all at once.

It was perfect.

Later on, when they were back at home, they sat together outside in that folding chair under the warm sun. The kitten was sleeping in his leather jacket. It was another form of bliss that brought him peace.

After a while, he took the fur-ball inside and placed the food into his bowl. He listened to soft crunching for a moment, then made his way out.

That’s when his love was pulling up to the junkyard. As he got out of the car, he held up a toy mouse with a bow wrapped around it, “I come bearing gifts.”

“Darlin’, you are a gift.”

“Well, look who’s become a big softie,” Alex smiled kissing Michael’s lips, lingering just a bit. “Where is he?”

“Inside, most likely in my hat.”

“Ah. How do you feel about that?” Michael shrugged and Alex looked down, “No boots today, Guerin?”

Michael winked, “Nah, they’re taken.”

Stroking Michael’s face softly and kissing him on the cheek, Alex moved towards the trailer, “As much as I want to continue kissing you, I need to meet this little guy. I’ll be inside if you need me.”

Michael wanted to follow, but he wanted the two boys in his life to bond. That was important to him, just like he was in the process of bonding with Buffy, Alex’s beagle.

He decided to go finish up on that car he had clearly put off during the Great Cat Debacle.

Finally, after his work was done, Michael quickly made his way into his tiny house and paused before speaking. There on that small bed was the love of his existence and the tiny fur-ball that had captured his heart snuggled together. The kitten looked so at peace with his white paws resting on Alex’s chest like that, touching Alex’s heart.

Michael knew that heart, the one that had opened up to him over a decade prior. It was that heart that gave him hope and a sense of home for the first time in his life. And it was at that exact moment that Michael knew that the kitten was no longer an abandoned stray searching for his family. They were his family.

“Welcome home, Boots.”

#my fic #michael guerin #malex #boots the cat #michael x boots

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