#I was able to go through it and pet my cat and she waited outside it for me

[motherhenna]

My pretty girl! Y'all Liesel's been so good: I've only heard her bark once this whole time. Doesn't know most basic obedience commands, but she's eager to please so it's been pretty easy teaching her not to jump on us or climb over the baby gate. So mellow too: definitely a factory-deficient husky lmao

more Liesel pics! She's settling in very well.

[siriuslynettey]

See Previous Chapter Here!

PLATINUM

[The Lost Pater]

New Friends and New Fears

[Chapter 2]

“Who’s going first?” A woman turned to her family and asked. None of them had the chance to answer before the tallest one sprinted towards the brick pillar into the train station. Her and the cart she pushed full of her belongings disappeared in the blink of an eye, entering Platform 9 ¾ .

Ophelia and Remus approached closer to the platform entrance, other families stood next to them, saying their goodbyes. Ophelia stared at the brick pillar while Remus stared at her, knowing his daughter was scared, but also knowing she wouldn’t admit it.

“Something that I learned when going to Hogwarts,” Remus leaned on Ophelia's luggage trolley, lowering to her height. “Is that magic, at first, is very scary, because it’s so foreign to us. Most people have enough common sense to know you’re not supposed to run into a brick wall. But Magic allows you to do it. But it’s still scary of course, the first time you do it”

Ophelia kept taking deep breaths, his soft words, that he was always able to beautifully string together, calmed her down.

“The first time you enter this platform, the first class you take, every new spell you cast, is terrifying, but once you do it, it’s so much fun.” Ophelia turned to look at her father, who was already giving her a reassuring smile. “You are going to have the time of your life, it’s going to be so much fun, Ophelia. It just so happens that the first thing you need to do is run right into that brick pillar…but I know you can do it.” Ophelia took a deep breath and nodded.

“Can we do it together?” She asked, to which Remus immediately agreed. His daughter had just started getting to the age where she barely asked for her dad’s help. Although he respected her boundaries, he never minded when his support was needed.

So the two sprinted towards the platform entrance, luggage trolleys in hand. Ophelia tightly closed her eyes right before, reaching the brick pillar. She barely felt a thing before she opened her eyes and saw the new world around her.

“See? That was easy, right?” Ophelia nodded quickly, now a big smile on her face. “Okay, we’re running a little late, so we should find some seats quickly.”

The two entered the train and started weaving through the people, searching for an empty compartment. After not finding one, Ophelia stopped in front of a room with one girl, sitting alone.

“Uhm, dad…” Ophelia avoided eye contact with Remus, he immediately picked up that she wanted to sit with other kids by herself.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make my way to the professor's car, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” He chuckled.

“It’s not that you’d embarrass me…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m just not sure if other kids want my dad sitting with them.”

“I understand, be good, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Once Remus left, Ophelia knocked on the side of the doorway of the compartment with the girl who sat alone. She looked up with a smile on her face.

“Er, do you mind if I sit here?...I understand if you don’t want me to.” Because this was her first Hogwarts express ride, she wasn’t sure if it would be frowned upon by other kids to ask to sit in “their” compartment.

“Oh, yeah! For sure!” The girl excitedly replied. Ophelia felt her tense shoulders relax, and put her carry on in the overhead storage, and sat Salem in his cat carrier right next to her.

“Ooo, what’s your cat's name?’’ The girl excitedly asked.

“His name’s Salem, I just got him a month ago.” Ophelia slumped over to look at Salem, who had calmed down since the car ride.

“Lucky, my parents said I had to wait until my third year to get a pet.” Ophelia looked out the train window, watching the crowd of families become smaller. “My name’s Jas, by the way, well, Jasmine…but I prefer Jas.”

“I’m Ophelia. Are you a first year too?”

“Yeah, but I have two older brothers so I-” The two girls were interrupted by a boy yelling outside their compartment. They gave each other confused looks before standing up to look outside the door.

“So let me get this straight, you had the opportunity to take a cat or an owl, and you chose a rat?” A boy with a large group behind him hovered over another boy who was leaning up against the wall with a rat in his hand. Although Ophelia didn’t care for rats, and definitely wouldn’t ever have one as a pet, she felt bad for the boy…and his rat.

“Hey, don’t talk to him like that.” Ophelia abruptly yelled at the group. Everyone turned their heads to look at her. The boy and the girl who were the two main patronizers, both stepped toward her.

The girl's eyes wandered to Ophelia’s hair. She snickered at the sight of her platinum white hair, something Ophelia had been insecure with since she could remember. It wasn’t uncommon for strangers' eyes to go straight to the top of her head, then her eyebrows, then her eyelashes, that all dawned the same white strands, it also wasn’t uncommon for people to mention it, and she figured this group wasn’t the type to bite their tongue.

“That’s a lot of talk from someone who chooses to dye their hair...and eyebrows....and eyelashes, such an awful colour.” The girl smirked at her uncreative insult.

“Her’s is all natural, unlike whatever incoherent, unkempt mess you have going on.” Jas snapped back, referring to the girl's inharmonious array of colours in her hair.

“Be careful of who you make your enemies, you wouldn’t want to start the year off wrong.” The boy stepped forward himself, slightly towering over Ophelia and Jas.

Jas stepped forward, inserting herself between the boy and Ophelia. "Oh please, save your threats for someone who actually takes you seriously. I’d be more concerned about your fashion sense...they don’t allow entrance into Slytherin, which you so desperately seem to want, based on the way you dress.” She looked the group up and down, referring to their purposely tattered black coloured clothing. "You should focus on being less of a cliché and more of your own person.”

The boy clenched his jaw and looked back at his group. “C’mon, let’s go. These freaks aren't worth our time.” Jas outwardly laughed at his weak response, which made their sour faces turn even more scrunched, while Ophelia chose to hide her smile.

Jas and Ophelia watched them mope away, then both turned their heads to the boy with the rat, whose head still layed low.

“I think rats are cool by the way,” Jas spoke up. “At least it’s not a toad.” The boy looked up and smiled.

“Do you want to sit with us? I think the train is about to start moving. And we have room for another.” The boy happily agreed, and they all walked into the compartment, closing the door behind them.

“Your hair colour is natural, right?” Jas asked Ophelia, hoping her comeback was accurate.

Ophelia laughed and confirmed that her hair colour was, in fact, real.

“I’m Gallagher by the way.” The boy sat next to Jas and introduced himself. Salam, starting hissing loudly from the crate Ophelia held him in.

“Salem, calm down.” Ophelia turned the opening of the crate towards her face to quiet the cat down. “Sorry, maybe he’s just a little nervous to be on the train.”

They spent the majority of the train ride getting to know each other. Ophelia started, explaining to them how it was just her and her dad living in a quiet suburb right outside of Cardiff, which they had just moved to recently after living in England her whole life, and how her dad was going to be a professor.

“No way!”

“Is he teaching first year?” They both inquired

“Yeah, he’s the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, so we’ll all have him.” Ophelia answered.

“That’s cool…” Jas voice tattered off before continuing. “Is he cool…or..I mean…is he the type to give a lot of homework?” This made Ophelia giggle, which assured Jas her question wasn’t too rude.

“I’m not sure, this is his first time teaching ever…he didn’t even tell me he got the job until a month ago.” Ophelia shrugged. “But he’s a good dad so, I can’t see him being horrible.”

Jas had told them how she and her family lived in London, and that her parents were not wizards, but both her and her brothers were.

Gallagher explained that he was an only child and his parents lived in Hogsmeade, and went into depth about how his parents were quite upset that he had to ride the train to a school he lived a 15 minute walk from.

It was a very foggy, glum day, so Ophelia found herself almost drifting to sleep a lot.

“Look, you can see the dementors.” Jas pointed toward the window.

Large, shadowy figures flew through the air around the train, the windows frosting everytime they got too close.

“Is that normal? Why are they here?” Ophelia asked, continuing to watch the scary figures fly by.

“You didn’t see? A prisoner from Azkaban escaped, there are posters all over Kings Cross. Apparently he was the first to do it” Gallagher answered her questions while eating treats from the trolley. He noticed the terrified look that remained on her face, despite his casualness to the situation. “It’s nothing to worry about, they’ll catch him eventually.” He reassured her.

“It’s just..they look so..terrifying.” Ophelia commented.

“That’s why no one else has escaped Azkaban, they suck all the happiness out of you, it takes away the prisoners' motivation so they don’t even want to escape.”

“Who was it? What did he do?” Ophelia asked, her eyes still glued to the window.

“Sirius Black…the posters are all over Hogsmeade. I can’t remember what he did, but it had to have been bad to be sent to Azkaban for life without even having a trial.” Gallagher explained.

“If I were him I would go off the grid completely, live my best life in the middle of nowhere.” Jas added, consuming her own treats as she watched the window like it was a film.

“Unless he has unfinished business.” Gallagher shrugged. Both girls turned in his direction, both slightly chuckling while also being taken aback by his words. “Just saying…especially if he had been working with Vo-” He stopped himself, and looked a bit embarrassed. “You Know Who.”

“You Know Who is gone…he was defeated in the war.” Ophelia argued. Remus had explained very little to her about the war, despite her curiosity. But each time, he assured her that “He” was gone.

“Defeated, not dead. They make a point to not say dead, just in case he comes back, some sort of liability thing…at least that’s what my parents say.” Gallagher commented.

“How do you know so much about it?” Jas asked.

“My parents are doomsdayers, people who believe another wizarding war will break out any second. Sometimes I think they are hoping for another war, just to prove to themselves that they're ready.”

“They sound like fun…” Ophelia remarked, making the other two laugh.

The train came to a sudden stop, jolting the children's bodies in their seats. Ophelia grabbed hold of Salem's carrier and Gallgher tightened his grip on his rat. All three of the kids got close to the window, fear settling in them.

“Why have we stopped?” Ophelia whispered, wanting to keep quiet, but not knowing why. No one replied, because of their own fear, but also because they hadn’t had an answer.

The windows turned cold and froze over, the air became more dense and a breath of fog flew in the air with every breath. Every compartment door flew open, and screams could be heard throughout the train.

“Please remain in your seats. Please remain in your seats.” An intercom voice beckoned over the train speakers. “There is an undocumented passenger on the train, please remain in your seats.”

Everyone froze, feeling sick to their stomachs. Ophelia felt numb and unable to even blink, but she kept her eyes on the door of the compartment. Although she didn’t know what he looked like, she imagined Sirius Black bursting through the door with a knife in hand, screaming at the top of his lungs, like a cheesy horror movie.

While the image replayed in her head, a figure jumped into the compartment opening, causing Ophelia, Jas, and Gallagher to scream at the top of their lungs.

“Dad!” Ophelia yelled, after realising who it was. Remus rushed himself into the compartment, embracing his daughter who jumped into his arms. “What’s happening?”

Remus ignored her question and looked around the room. “Is it just you three? Has anyone else come in here?”

“No-no it’s just us.” Remus also ignored her reply and looked under the seats and in the overhead compartments.

A large, ghostly looking hand grasped the door frame behind him. Ophelia watched the hand with wide eyes, but her mouth refused to speak any words. Remus looked at his daughter's terrified expression and followed her line of vision to the door. Jas and Gllagher ran to the other side of the room where Ophelia sat behind Remus.

The hand was now a dementor standing in front of them. Remus sat down with the children, placing his left arm behind him to cover them and the pets they clutched onto.

“He’s not here.” Remus firmly stated. The dementor creepily turned its head toward Remus, before taking a last glance at the room and exiting, closing the door behind it.

Everyone let out the breath they had been holding, Jas and Gallagher went back to their respective seats. Ophelia's blank stare stayed on the door.

“Phie,” Remus turned towards her, trying to break her out of her lifeless trance. “It’s alright.”

“Is he here? On the train? Sirius Black?” She asked, just above a whisper, tears welling out of fear. Remus gave a similar blank stare to his daughter, his stomach dropping hearing her say his name.

“m-N-No. I don’t know. If he is, they'll find him.”

See Next Chapter Here!

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (15) Nightmare

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 15)

Summary: Rosie tells us about her family's sanctuary that is 221B, but also about wars over board games. In the end, it's the story about someone else who also needs a safe haven.

Fifteen Years Old

I felt oddly protective of our home from an early age, and I didn’t want it invaded by my friends. Not that I was ashamed of all the bric-a-brac, Papa’s experiments, or how different it was to other homes I’d visited. It was just...our space, a safe haven where we all could lower our guards, Papa in particular. Over the years, his fame had increased exceedingly, and his derisive façade kept journalists and fans at bay. The moment he entered 221B, he discarded said façade by hanging his coat on the peg.

Another thing to consider, were the battles that always ensued whenever one of us challenged the others to a board game. Having an outsider witnessing that…well, we’d surely be sectioned for life if that were to occur. 

(More likely, the person would be granted vicious dreams for eternity.)

But as Papa points out; there’s always something. In this context, someone.  My friend Liwia. Her parents were Polish, and moved to England two years before Liwia was born. They were Catholics, and having to adjust to a society that was more liberal toward queer people than Poland, took its time. When Liwia came out to them as a lesbian the year prior, they’d tried to pin it on her friendship with me. I was after all related to quite a few of the sort and Liwia’s parents seemed to believe the ludicrous lie that queerness was contagious.

It took them some months to get over it, but once they realised that Liwia still was her normal self, they discarded the original idea of sending her to Poland to live with her strictly religious grandparents. Neither of the Barczykowskis was prepared when said grandparents announced that they were visiting London that summer, staying for at least a fortnight. 

***

Dad and I were in the middle of a Scrabble war, when Papa came home. Not that we realised it at the time. We were too engrossed in arguing.

“It’s bloody unfair to use all the medical terms and diseases you can come up with to win, you know!” I exclaimed accusatory.

“Oh, come now, Rosebud,” Dad teased, looking as pleased as the cat that ate the canary.

“Don’t you dare Rosebud me,” I said through clenched teeth. 

Dad only used that pet name when we were at war over the board games, and it rubbed me up the wrong way.

“Children,” Papa chastised, barely able to suppress his glee.

“You’re home,” we said in unison.

I waited for the inevitable eyeroll and his obviously, but none came.

“We have a guest,” Papa said and waved a hand, and that’s when I saw Liwia standing by the sofa wringing her hands, a look of despair in her eyes.

I leapt to my feet and walked over to hug her tight.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered into her hair.

She explained about her grandparents, and with just one look over at Papa, receiving a nod, I turned back to assure my friend that she could stay at Baker Street for as long as she needed, if her biased grandparents started to make her life a living nightmare.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson,” Liwia said politely.

I could literally see the relief wash over her, the tension in her shoulders dissipating and a tiny smile forming on her lips.

“Please, call us John and Sherlock,” Dad said. 

Then he turned his attention to me with a devilish grin.

“Does this mean you declare defeat, Rosebud?”

“You wish!” I snarled and left Liwia’s side to go into battle with my father.

(Before you go all bananas on me - this will continue tomorrow...)

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies.

[high-noon-raccoon]

For Moon

I know nobody follows me and nobody will really read this, but I feel the need to send out a little paper boat into the void so that this girl's memory endures out there, somewhere.

cw: pet loss under the cut

In 2008 my then-partner and I moved into a new condo and started new jobs, both of us still relatively fresh out of high school. Worried that our singleton cat would be lonely with us gone all day, I suggested that we get another cat to keep him company. My partner agreed, so one day I went down to the local humane society to see who was available.

As part of the adoption process, they have you browse the rows of cats and select a few to take with you into a side room, to see how you get along with them. I tagged around 6 or so. As I'm walking around looking for the last candidate, I pass a tiny, unremarkable tabby. She looks straight up at me and politely paws at the cage. Ok, I say, I guess I'll pick that one, and go into the side room to meet them.

They bring the cats in one by one, in the order I chose them. Most don't click with me, but candidate #3 is pretty friendly and I'm pretty sure she's the one I'm bringing home. Finally they bring in the tabby. She walks straight up to me with her tail held high, climbs up on my leg, and stretches up to lick my nose. I knew instantly that she was the one.

Tiegra, as the shelter called her, was apparently found behind a dumpster outside an apartment complex. When the shelter vet took her in for a spay, they found that she'd had a failed pregnancy and had to remove the kittens. It was a sad start. Eventually I was able to take her home and at some point renamed her to Moon. I don't know why. It just kind of stuck.

I'm hardly a stranger to cats. We had several on our farm, as did the kids around me growing up. I'd interacted with cats both feral and tame, purebred and mutt, pets and strays and everything in between and even then I'd never met a cat like Moon before. She was still very much a cat, sure, with all the various feline idiosyncrasies that make them both endearing and infuriating as pets. But even so, she was different. When I looked into her eyes I saw an intelligence there, a soul, that I'd never seen in any other cat I'd cared for before (and that I've yet to see in another cat ever). She looked at me like she knew me, like she'd always known me. And sometimes, when I reflect on how she was the one to pick me out at the shelter – not the other way around – it truly does feel as though she'd been waiting for me the entire time.

I took Moon with me when I ultimately split with that partner, and she became the one and only constant in my life that I had for over the next decade. She was with me though several relationships, moves, and jobs, through university, through trauma, and through abuse. Moon eagerly greeted me when I came home or got up in the morning (I know half of that was about food, but still), cuddled me on the couch while I studied or drew, stretched out by my keyboard while I gamed, and followed me around literally everywhere. She always had to be where the people were whether or not she chose to interact with them – but she always had to be with me in particular, and grew incredibly distressed and lonely whenever I was gone for too long.

As if she knew how utterly broke I was, Moon hated when I spent money on her. No bed, cat tree, or toy I bought her ever saw any use. She preferred papers and cardboard boxes, pieces of string, and loafing on the back of the couch. Her favorite playtime activity was booping my fingers through the holes in the laundry basket while I was putting clothes away. Her favorite treat was cream cheese.

Outside of a penchant for escape if the front door was left open, this was the best-behaved cat you ever saw – no marking or yowling, no jumping on counters, no property destruction -- just generally impeccably polite. She had a not-meow where she'd look up at you and make a clicking sound when she wanted to communicate; if she wanted your attention, she'd gently paw you; if she lost track of where I was, only then would she meow. She loved people and was generally pretty social with strangers, always at least curious enough to come up and say hi if not stick around for pets. Everyone who met Moon fell in love with her pretty much immediately. It was hard not to.

It's incredible how in-tune to an animal you get when you're with them for that long. Moon and I could read each other's body language like a book. I could communicate to her in blinks and kissy noises, but sometimes it felt like she understood my words, too. We were each other's first refuge when we were upset. Once, when I had to leave her overnight at the vet – I wish you could have seen the way her face lit up when I came back for her the next day, the palpable relief as she got to her feet. This was a cat. An animal. Something you're not supposed to anthropomorphize. And yet so much about her was so incredibly human.

I didn't find my forever home until 2021, with a partner who – just like Moon – I knew from the very beginning was just...right. Though he already had two dogs, he came to love Moon as his own. He was the one who looked after her and cared for her as she took a sudden turn for the worse while I was visiting my parents for Christmas. He was able to make her final days joyous and full of enrichment, even while having to laboriously clean up her messes. And mercifully, in the end, I was able to rush home and make it to her before it was too late. Once again, even though she lay there dying, she lit up upon seeing that I was home. Her relief was palpable. My partner said she'd been anxious every moment I'd been gone, that she'd been searching for me. He'd told Moon she needed to hold out until I made it home. And she did. Just barely, but she did.

Nothing sudden happened to Moon. She made it to either 18 or 19 years old, and at that age a cat's kidneys inevitably fail them. It's a slow, terrible, wasting thing and heartbreaking to watch. But a cat making it to that age is the equivalent of a human making it to triple digits. And I know she wouldn't have made it that far if I hadn't cared for her well. I stayed with her until the very end, even though it hurt. I knew she needed me there. I knew it's what she would have wanted.

But 18 or 19 years is literally half of my life. This creature wasn't just my pet, she was my sidekick, my familiar, a whole other part of me. And now she's gone. People have asked if I'm going to get another cat, and...I can't. At least not for a good long while. That's not a hole you can just fill with anything.

The house is so quiet without her now. Nobody's in my face begging for cream cheese with my morning bagel. Nobody will come to cuddle with me while I draw anymore.

Moon was so terribly special. And I will miss her every day.

Rest in peace, sweetie.

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Alpine- Part 1

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader x Alpine

A/N Hey guys I'm re-posting all my fics. Also all mistakes are my own and comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated xoxo

Summary You and Bucky decide to get a cat.

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff

Today was the day. You and Bucky had decided to get a cat. It didn’t take long for you two to make the decision but it was still a pretty big one since any pet is a big commitment.

“you ready doll?” Bucky asked with a grin on his face.

“let me get my phone and I’ll be ready babe.” You replied with the same excitement as Bucky.

You both had wanted a cat since the start of your relationship but had decided to wait until you moved in together to get one. Today marked 1 year of living with Bucky which seemed perfect. You both walked hand-in-hand to the nearest animal shelter. Once you got there, you went to the desk where a kind-looking woman with short red hair was typing on her computer. She was wearing jeans and a graphic t-shirt.

“Hi, me and my girlfriend are looking to adopt a cat so I was wondering if you could tell us where the cats are here.” Bucky said with a toothy grin.

The woman looked up from her computer and gave you both a smile “sounds good” the woman replied whilst looking back at her computer. “if you give me one moment I’ll get one of my colleagues to take you there.”

“thanks.” Bucky responded, squeezing your hand in excitement.

You saw a tall woman with long blonde hair and what looked like an abundance of tattoos come around the corner with a smile on her face. “hi, I’m Rebecca and I’m going to be showing you all the cats and kittens we have in the hopes that you will be able to give one a home.”

“great!” you replied excitedly.

“good, Follow me please.”

Rebecca lead you and Bucky through a few corridors before you reached a door with a cartoon drawing of a cat on it. You could also hear the meows of a few cats.

“here you are. You can look at any cats and if you want to get in with any of the cats just shout me over and I can open the door.”

“ok, thanks.” You said.

You and Bucky had been looking for about 15 minutes when you both heard a really loud meow from behind you. You both turned around and saw a pure white cat clawing at the door. You both went over to it and crouched down. The cat was still meowing and trying to get to you.

“you stay here doll and I’ll get the lady to let us in.” Bucky said before kissing your head and going over to Rebecca to ask her to open the door.

Rebecca came over with a key in her hand and unlocked the door. “here you go guys. I’ll wait outside here but if you need any help or information I’m happy to give it to you.”

“Ok. thank you so much” you responded.

Rebecca smiled in response. You and Bucky sat down on the floor and started to call the cat over. It first came over to you so you outstretched your hand so it could sniff it and decide whether it wanted to let you pet it. Once it had sniffed your hand the cat licked it and nudged your hand so you could stroke it.

“wow I’m surprised he let you do that.” Rebecca genuinely sounded surprised. “he usually doesn’t like people and other cats. That’s why he has his own space.”

The cat then went over to Bucky who had took one glove off and outstretched his flesh hand. However, the cat went to Bucky’s metal hand which was still concealed in the black leather glove.

Bucky hesitated so you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “it’s ok babe. You’re not gonna hurt him. You’re not him anymore”

“o-ok” Bucky replied and took off the glove what was covering his metal hand.

The cat sniffed then licked Bucky’s hand before nudging it and purring loudly when Bucky started to stroke it. All of the previous doubt on Bucky’s face had dissipated and turned into awe at the white fur ball that was now playing with his metal hand.

Then, Bucky looked at you and smiled. You leaned over to press a chassed kiss on his lips.

“I think this is the one” Bucky said looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“I think it is”

Rebecca had a big grin on her face while watching yours and Bucky’s interaction with each other. “great! If you want I can get the paperwork ready and find out the price.”

“ok. Umm just one thing though. What is his name?” Bucky questioned.

“his name is Alpine but feel free to change his name of you want to. He was named by the staff here since he was brought in by a person on the street who saw him roaming around with a large wound on his back.”

You looked at Bucky and he nodded. “I think we’re gonna keep the name Alpine it suits him. And it’s very unique”

“very well then. I’ll get the paperwork while you two continue to play with Alpine.” Rebecca walked away to get the paperwork for you and Bucky to sign.

Bucky looked at you with adoration in his eyes and leaned in to kiss you again. “thank you doll. I love you so much.”

However, the moment was interrupted by Alpine who had decided he wasn’t getting enough attention so he crawled up Bucky’s metal arm and head-butted his cheek.

You looked at Bucky and you both started to laugh. “I love you too Bucky”

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier @nicoline1998enilocin

[madnessfromthemountains]

Growler

Yesterday, we lost a very dear cat. Growler was never my favorite cat, but she eventually did become affectionate with @firebreathnchkn and I.

I don't know what her early life was like, but some #)*%#%) declawed her and then probably another one abandoned her in an apartment when they absconded on their rent. The landlord, an acquaintance of mine fed her and took care of her for a few days.

He eventually convinced me to take her (I had three cats already) and I brought her home. She was traumatized by the long drive and hid from me for months (I kept her in a separate room). Eventually she came out and let me see her while she ate, but growled the whole time to let me know she was a tough kitty. Thus I named her Growler, because the "grbubble grubble grubble" was terribly cute.

Then one month my internet died died and my landline was in her room. I spent a lot of quality time on hold with the phone/internet company every day and eventually she came over and sniffed my hand. I held very still (plz don't bite me!) and after that the ice was broken. She let me pet her and eventually I loosed her into the house. She hated the other cats but mostly ignored them if they let her alone.

She still wasn't really friendly or affectionate but gradually let me pet her and pick her up for a moment or two. I eventually got her to the vet for shots, which was traumatic all around. At the time I still had indoor/outdoor cats. As she was declawed I wouldn't let her out in general, but one day forgot and left the door open. She wandered out and fortunately I noticed her and was able to herd her back inside. She had no actual interest in the outdoors, really.

(I think she was looking out at a deer). That spot on the chest/windowsill became her spot one day when I put a blanket there randomly. That was where she chilled and watched the house and occasionally the outside.

About the time @firebreathnchkn moved in she became sitting-on-laps sociable.

Her health has gotten spotty in the last couple years. We found she had hyperthyroid and medicated her for that (mostly with pills in pillpockets) and then eventually she started having seizures. More medicine, which she was not good about. Tooth problems (which helped), but she was clearly a very old cat with associated problems. She started having trouble grooming and needed a lion cut (since she was also not easy to groom).

As far as I could tell, she loved the lion cut. Her window is a chilly spot, but we figured she was always overly warm from her hyperthyroid.

She was a mouth. Always meowing, would hold conversations with me or hubby, especially at dinnertime (or any time within three hours if we went in the kitchen).

She also loved hiding in a cat tower in "her" room, which became @firebreathnchkn's office. When he worked, she would hang there with him for company.

Here she is patiently waiting for dinner. Glaring into the sitting room.

She had a lot of physical problems in the last year, mostly related to trying to fix her bad digestion (constant diarrhea, puking and terrible smelling poo). We made her more comfortable with hydrolyzed dry cat food and Vitamin B shots and an antibiotic powder for her food. She didn't take that very well. She also had arthritis (at least partly due to being declawed -DON'T DECLAW YOUR FUCKING CATS). We got her on Solensia, which I highly recommend. It helped her immensely.

Then last month our dear vet found a mass in her abdomen. At her age, we weren't going to put her through any cancer treatment, so we set about making her comfortable.

She'd been sinking all month and last night we came home from my PT to find her limp and unable to walk more than a few steps. No interest in food. She seemed conscious but just flopped over every few steps.

It was time. We took her to the emergency vet and let her go. The vet agreed it was time.

Goodbye Growler. We already miss you yelling for your breakfast and dinner and sitting in your window. You were always easy to take to the vet and very good company in your own grumpy old lady way. May your next life be easier. You sure deserved it.

One last picture, from 2020. It took me a long time to even seen the lovely crescent moon on your back, kitty. You would have been named Luna if I'd seen that earlier. Looking forward to being haunted by you, fuzzball.

[babiebom]

When You Fall (vii)

A/N: sorry for not updating this in a while it’s hard for me to get the inspiration to put my thoughts on the page y’know? It’s like whatever I write won’t be as good as it is in my head. At this point this is like a once a month upload and I feel like that’s too slow :(

Tw:talks of depression, talks of medications, guilt. Lmk if there’s more I should tag

Wc:0.9k

Previous Next Masterlist

Finally home again, you tense up as soon as you shut the door behind you. It was different, depression when you’re surrounded by distractions and depression when you’re alone. The creaking of the house filled you with loneliness. When you were little it was always your grandparents inside, the house warm and smelling of food and baked goods. Then it was just your grandfather, the house still warm but no longer smelling good. Now it’s just you, with a house that was only warm because it was springtime and the sun was warming everything it touched.

Tears start to prick your eyes and you wonder when your medication would be making its appearance. It was only recently that your emotions started to overwhelm you, the reason clear as day and you hated the fact that you couldn’t bounce back like you usually did. It wasn’t the first time someone in your family had died, nor will it be the last but it wasn’t like when your grandmother died when you were young, you were able to get over it then, this time you weren’t able to process and get over it at all. Processing hadn’t even started, it’s just been an immediate descent into an endless black hole.

Guilt almost overcomes you as doubts start making their way into your mind. You wanted to believe Harvey would never prescribe you anything horrible, you wanted to believe that things were going to get better once you had your medicine, but it was hard to not hear things about taking meds for mental health; all the side effects and body changes that people go through. The chance that the medicine can make things worse, the chance that the medicine can make you feel nothing at all. It was scary, and something that you hadn’t experienced up until this point. Harvey was great with prescribing you the meds, but in the back of your mind the want to flush them as soon as you get them tries to get your attention and make itself seem like a good idea.

Well, at least you can work on your farm or something while you have time. You rested all day yesterday, today can be dedicated to bettering your land. Putting on your work clothes, you move to open the door. Honestly maybe you should start looking out the window or a peep hole or something because having to stifle a scream when you see Marnie’s face is embarrassing.

“Marnie!” You try to act like she didn’t just jumpscare you into next year. “It’s nice to see you this morning!” You had only met the woman once like a week ago, and seeing her on your doorstep was kind of weird. Behind her was a huge fluffy dog who was wagging its tail, staring up at you with the sweetest eyes you’ve ever seen; and in her arms an orange cat who seemed all too happy to be getting pets and being held.

“Hello Y/N! You see these animals here? I found them sitting together outside the entrance to your farm! I think they might be strays…poor little things.”

You nod and stare at her, what was the point of all this? If she thought they were strays why is she here talking about them? It has to be obvious out of everyone in the town you’d know the least about who owns them. Though, they were extremely cute…

The dog plops down on the front porch, it’s tail still wagging as it stares up at you. Now that you think about it, there’s an old dog house somewhere in the property, your grandfather had a dog before, so maybe you could ask if you could keep it, maybe the cat too. It would be better than being alone all day. Marnie waits a beat before speaking again, staring at the dog fondly.

“I think they like this place! Hey, um…don’t you think this farm could use some animals?”

Like your prayers were answered you smile at her, “yeah, sure. I can keep them! Farm is big and empty anyways…”

She hands the orange cat to you and steps back. “Do you have a name for either of them?” You nod immediately, knowing exactly what you wanted to name them it was so easy.

“Mango and Shadow.” You say with confidence. The cat was orange, and fruit themed names were always cute, and the dog, while brown, already seemed as if it was going to follow you around all day like a fluffy shadow anyways.

“Well, you both be good, now…okay?” Marnie seemed a little sad as if she wanted to keep them, she probably had no room for them with all of her animals. She leaves down the path back towards her own place.

Excitedly, you hurry and set the cat down grabbing your watering can and other farming supplies. Now that you had company, doing work and being home wasn’t so daunting. Shadow immediately follows after you, her tail wagging so quickly you could feel the air from it. Mango watched from the porch, lying on the stairs. They were both going to be inside with you, that’s for sure, but now you needed to fix the dog house, and buy animal supplies. Your new fur babies needed to immediately be spoiled (and cleaned), and you had absolutely nothing prepared for them.

Life has to get better from now on, right? Now you have two pets to take care of…now you have reasons to want to get better. Hopefully it makes the path to recovery easier.

[melissa-titanium]

wrghfhf OKAY UHMM

where does trout live? and does she have any family living with or near her? or in general

ive seen the dragonss big dragon world where does she fit in there. like what is she. what is their society like if they have one. would she interact with other animals or would her society be kept to others like her?

i sawww something mentioned about her being a past life to. uh. i forgot their names i know mel is there but how did she die if she does and also if its not the same where did she get the scar?

also not technically a question and also not about trout but kinda do u have a picture of mel's sister i saw u mention her and i was interested. u know me. u know how i feel abt siblings.

whos her fishy familiar whatre they like. are they more like a pet or a friend or both?

ive been using periods as question marks whoops. also uhm what is her relationship with all the other ppl and. their lives and whatever

whats her favorite food? color? animal? what is she interested in? what are her hobbies? yknow the basics

i know shes. trout. and those are freshwater. but does she like whales? like whale whales. im just curious. actually how does she feel about whales, sharks, even orcas. stuff like that.

OMG. OMG. OMG. WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK. WAIT. WAIT WAIT. IM FUCKING C;RAZY THANKUOU SO SO SO OSOS M UCH I LOVE ANS;WERING SHIT ABOUT MY STUPID OCS *CRIESSSSSSSSSSHGIJGFKGSERIJ*

where does trout live? and does she have any family living with or near her? or in general

OK SO FUNNY THING ABOUT REPRODUCTION IN MY WORLD. there doesnt actually need to be Two parents to Make A Child Exist. there can be one. three. twelve. billions. doesnt matter. because the source of life in this world are called lovebugs that essentially incubate souls that are ready to be recycled... the only motive they need to initiate the incubation process is some form of desire from an outside source to have that thing Exist, and boom, it will.

so basically, she doesn't have any "biological" family. lovebugs didn't incubate her soul because anyone wanted them to, it was basically like. okay. you know jesus? from the bible? yeah. that's basically what happened to trout. except whats different about her is that she was born from... like... the will of the god of the universe herself (cadie, cici. yeah the god of my universe is my cat) and somewhat from the people of that world at the time.

basically the desire of the masses to have the return of magic culminated so much hope and "desire" into existence that trout just... boom. became real.

to ACTUALLY answer your question though, trout doesn't actually have parents. she hopped across orphanages and foster homes until she was able to bind her soul to an object (long story) and then, seeing her power, the higher status seaskimrs kind of adopted her like "hey she would make a great personal guard to the royal family"

the closest thing to family though? oryx. he's her anxious deranged ghost uncle who projects his existence onto her through time bullshit soul magic.

ive seen the dragonss big dragon world where does she fit in there. like what is she. what is their society like if they have one. would she interact with other animals or would her society be kept to others like her?

OMG OK WAIT SO . FUNNU THING ABOUT THIS. TROUT'S ERA HAPPENS AT THE V E R Y END OF MEL'S SOUL THREAD... MEANING MOST OF THE DRAGONS ARE GONE BY THIS POINT. but AHAAAAAA WAIT !!!! since the world exploded, set on fire, exploded again, and then Flooded (thats why seaskimrs, creatures like trout, are the most populous intelligent species on the planet) tasreradian society managed to sustain some of their society, but alot of it was still lost (the current tasrerads don't even know that the shore dwelling tasrerads existed)

to the seaskimr society, tasrerads are something of lorekeepers. now having to go deeper into the ocean, they've become long-living megafauna. not a SINGLE tasrerad is left from mel's time, but a good ass portion of their history is written in ye olde dragon runes. seaskimrs don't interact a whole lot since tasrerads dwell very very deep in the ocean and rarely come up... but they're chill when they do! trout was born during the period of time where tasrerads come up for their routine (every decade? not sure!) transaction of knowledge. the tasreradian elder take great interest in telling stories to seaskimr younglings, and trout never forgot a single tale.

i sawww something mentioned about her being a past life to. uh. i forgot their names i know mel is there but how did she die if she does and also if its not the same where did she get the scar?

OMG OMG SHES !!! SHES ATUALLY MEL'S FUTURE LIFE iamsosorry if iworded that wrong somewhere i know i always say mel's past lives when in reality mel has One past life. everyone else comes after. help me. i need to finish the loredoc ohhhh my god

SHE !!! well. kind of dies? more like gets punted into purgatory after literally becoming god at some point for a reason i havent really worked out yet. we'll get to that *smiles*

AS FOR HER SCAR..... equally a little vague. in her old story, she got mauled by. this sounds insane but also all of the aquatic creatures from the past eras got like dangerously bigger. she got mauled by a HUGE FUCKING TROUT which earned trout her name!!! (yeah i think in her old lore getting mauled made her transition . ? help)

in her new lore tho. i think it would make the most sense for malibu to be the one to dismember & scar her? or maybe mel. tho i think malibu makes more sense. malibu being burned on accident and being like I NEED TO GET BACK AT THIS BITCH. because to trout, malibu is a reminder of her terrible curse & to malibu, trout is a reminder of a terrible experience that basically lead to the death of her grandmother (a whole other story so i'll just leave it at that)

regardless. unlike mel, she never gets a prosthetic :)

also not technically a question and also not about trout but kinda do u have a picture of mel's sister i saw u mention her and i was interested. u know me. u know how i feel abt siblings.

HELL YEAH I DO!!!!!!!!!!!! i havent finished her ref yet Sigh but.... the queen <3 epic spoilers! she's the one who kills mel :)

whos her fishy familiar whatre they like. are they more like a pet or a friend or both?

IM GONNA BE HONEST I HAVENT TOTALLY WORKED THIS OUT YET !!!

it acts as something of a... puppet. an entity that can pass through time to act as a gateway, HER gateway, to the past. which is where she meets oryx! the soulless remnants act as entities outside of time, so when she befriends one (this funny little fish who i dont have a name for yet LOL) she's able to puppeteer it's body and project herself and some of the world around it (including her voice!) into the past. which is how she's able to hear, see, and communicate with oryx. does that make sense? LOL

BUT TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION. it's both :) trout is a "roll with the punches" kinda gal so she didn't really question the presence of half-existing entities that only she could see and just interacted with them as she would with a normal not dead person.

ive been using periods as question marks whoops. also uhm what is her relationship with all the other ppl and. their lives and whatever

HM HM HMMM. okay let me think.

mel - she feels pity for him at first. imagine existing for that long, literal eons stewing in your hate, refusing to let go of a grudge for people that have long forgotten about you? she essentially manages to talk him down from the ledge, something mira failed to do all those eras ago.

the reason trout came in the very last thread of mel's soul is because of how similar the two are. mel surpressed the "trout" part of himself so ferociously that she literally could not exist until oryx BLOCKED HIM from influencing her time in any way shape or form. mel hated, HATED, HATED trout, more than he hated his mom, those who looked down on him, the world, more than he hated himself. which is why his reconciliation with her is such a crucial part of both their character arcs, because truly trout is just mel in a less gristly, bloody font. he's like her deranged grandpa in some way.

when she resets the timeline he's glad to be the only one to remember her.

whats her favorite food? color? animal? what is she interested in? what are her hobbies? yknow the basics

food? she really likes spicy stuff. is eating tilapia cannibalism? maybe, but she doesn't really have a reason to care, all of her past lives were cannibals.

she REALLY likes green. like a soft, gentle sage. salmon pink is a close second.

she likes pufferfish and hammerhead sharks... she thinks theyre funny :)

BIG FAN OF MECHANICS AND BOMBS. bombs especially. it sometimes concerns her peers how excited she gets about stuff like the discovery of remains from those nuclear explosions several eons ago. she loooves pulling things apart and seeing what new stuff she can make with them. guns are a big second fave too! thats why her soulbound object (which can shapeshift. yeah she's a special one) is usually some kind of big impossible gun. she likes to try and dissect it and see how much of it is magic and how much of it is mechanics.

i know shes. trout. and those are freshwater. but does she like whales? like whale whales. im just curious. actually how does she feel about whales, sharks, even orcas. stuff like that.

SHE LOVES WILDLIFE. she's not like, crazy obsessed with animals but if you asked her if she wanted to go to the aquarium she would never say no. she likes predatory animals the most, i don't know if she would have ever seen an orca before but whales are a tasreradian delicacy so she's definitely eaten whales before, and likes to watch sharks sometimes.

ALSO WAIT FUNNY DETAIL. she's actually anadromous, which means she's both freshwater AND saltwater which is why she lives in the sea :)

[spiesareforeverobsessed]

The Origins of a Very Special Agent

This is another old fic I am transferring to my new blog, since I have become obsessed with SAF again. I can't remember if I have posted this on tumblr before or just Ao3 but it is mine. Enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: None that I know of but please let me know if you feel I need to add anything.

Summary: Very fluffy curtwen oneshot. Barely any plot. Just boys in love.

Owen rapped his knuckles against the familiar door before taking a step back, waiting patiently and in full view of the camera he knew was hidden above the door.

It had been nearly two months since he’d last seen his partner. Until the other day, though sadly only briefly. Owen had been assigned to a mission in America, unfortunately not with Curt. But he was sent there for a full week of time, his plane home not scheduled until the end of said week. So he’d promised Curt when he had briefly passed through his agency’s headquarters that he would stop by the American agent’s house as soon as the mission was done.

He’d had no sleep and far too much coffee but he’d gotten the mission done in just two days leaving him free for five.

He was already leaning forward to kiss Curt as the door opened, but he paused as he took in the appearance of his love. Curt was looking at him with wide eyes. His clothes were askew. There were scratches at the top of his back leading down under his shirt. There was saliva on his neck along with what looked like teeth marks. “Owen! Before you say anything, I swear it’s not what you’re thin-”

“Only you could get into a fight with a cat Curt.”

Curt’s shoulders seemed to sag with relief though his eyes gain a curious look. “How did you...I mean I was worried you would think….I know what I must look like….most people would-”

Owen cut Curt off again by dramatically rolling his eyes and sighing as he gently pulled the American agent closer to himself. “I’m a spy Curt. I would say my deductive and observational skills are far superior to that of ‘most people’ as you so elegantly put it.” He said with somewhat exaggerated smugness before his voice softened. “Besides,” He paused to give Curt a quick kiss on the lips as he’d intended earlier before continuing. “I trust you, you moron. Now do you want to tell me how the USA’s top spy got into a tussle with a cat? And lost based on your injuries.”

Curt was grinning at him as he responded with an endearing glitter of excitement clear in his eyes. “I didn’t get into a fight with her. She chose me.” Owen raised an eyebrow. “Chose you?”

“Yes. She was hiding under my car from these assholes who were throwing things at her.” Curt explained further. Owen nodded in understanding. “Mmm, did you shoot said assholes, love?”

“That’s neither here nor there Owen, the point is she chose me. Clearly she knew I was a badass spy who would protect her, hence why she chose to hide under my car.” Curt said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Owen did not have the heart or the inclination to contradict him. “Okay. So how did you get wounded then dear?”

Curt shrugged. “She did better than I expected in the bath but when I dried her off there were some tangles in her fur still and she did not appreciate me trying to get them out. You should see the sheets on my bed. Torn right down the middle.” This gave Owen pause. “Wait, that cat is here?”

“Of course! I couldn’t just leave her outside to be abused again! And it’s getting colder at night.” Curt defended. “Did you get special permission for a pet from your building manager?” Curt fidgeted a bit and smiled sheepishly. “She...doesn’t exactly know…..”

Of course. Owen fought the urge to slam his face onto his hands.

“I know you can keep a secret Curt, but you have an inspection monthly. Are you going to be able to remove all evidence? And what about when you are on mission? Someone will have to take care of the cat. Will they be able to keep a secret like you? Plus there are variables you can’t control that could reveal her. What if she meows too loud and your neighbors hear? What if someone sees her in a window? It’s against your building’s code and you could get kicked out.”

He knew this because Curt had complained to him about it on a mission nearly a year ago. Owen remembered the frustrated voice and the lip jutted out into pout. A pout he desperately wanted to kiss. But he couldn’t. Not then.

He squeezes Curt comfortingly and speaks his next words carefully and with sympathy. “You can’t keep her Curt.”

He expects whining. An argument. But instead Curt nods solemnly in acceptance. “I know. That’s why you are taking her back to London with you.”

Owen blinked at his boyfriend. When no sign of joking became apparent after a few moments his thoughts left his lips. “I most certainly am not!”

“Yes you are. You have to. I can’t keep her. But you can. Your building doesn’t have these stupid restrictions.”

“I understand that, but owning a pet is a huge thing and...I don’t know Curt. I’ve never had one. I’m not home half the time. She might not even like me.” Owen was almost desperately trying to justify himself and hold up against Curt’s pleading gaze.

“Great! So she’ll be your first! And you have that nice lady who comes in to look after your plants, she could help you care for your new pet! And I am sure Special Agent Fluff will love you almost as much as I do.”

Silence reigned in the room for a minute. “Please tell me did not name that poor cat Agent Fluff.”

“Special Agent Fluff.”

“Oh yes, that’s so much better.” Owen’s sarcastic words seemed to go unnoticed as Curt continued. “She needs someone to take care of her O, and I trust you more than anyone. I know I could find her another good home but I can’t stand the thought of her going to some stranger who might not treat her right. And this way I’ll still get to see her. She chose me and I chose you, she’s ours. Please.”

Owen Carvour had been a spy for years. Faced down countless people of the very worst kind. Had killed terrorists even as they begged for their worthless lives. Had carried out acts others would be sick at for the good of humanity and did it without flinching. He had steel nerves and resolve.

But damn it if Curtis Mega using the word ours didn’t do something unspeakably warm and gooey to his insides.

“I…..will consider it.” Owen conceded, gaining a heart-stopping smile from his partner that he couldn’t resist (not that he tried) leaning in to kiss again. “So, I suppose I should meet my potential new flatmate then.” He commented when he pulled back.

Curt nodded happily and practically dragged him toward the bedroom, something he had been expecting to happen when he got here though not in this context. Hmmmm….maybe later.

“I just know you are going to love her.” Curt announced as he opened the door to his room. His empty room. “She must be hiding.” Curt followed his words by making soft clicking noises, clearly trying to summon the cat. Owen was scanning the room, trying to spot any sign of fur when he suddenly felt a soft tickling sensation on his ankles. He looked down to see a tiny orange puffball rubbing it’s way in and out of his legs.

“Jeez I didn’t even see her come out.” He exclaimed in slight surprise. “Of course not, a good Agent is stealthy, O.” Curt commented almost proudly. “I told you she would like you! And I relate, I also want to constantly rub up against your legs.” Curt ended with a sultry tone and a suggestive wink.

Owen swallowed hard before schooling his face into one of mock chastisement. “In front of a baby Mega, you should be ashamed of yourself.” Curt scoffed at his words, a mischievous look playing on his face. “I have no shame.” Owen hummed in reply, concealing his chuckle. “Clearly.”

Owen leaned down and scooped up the kitten, holding her out and looking at her critically. She looked no older than a couple months old max. She had blue eyes. She was not declawed. She was reaching out a front paw to bat curiously at a strand of hair hanging in his face. He tries to maintain seriousness in the face of her adorable tilted head and his boyfriend's infectious laughter sounding from beside him.

“Well she looks healthy enough. Not sure what breed she is. Doesn’t look like she would shed too bad.” Owen listed off as if the combined forces of the adorable pleading faces of both this cat and his partner had not already swayed him.

“She’ll be a nice companion and I would come over to check on her so you get to see me too.” Curt encouraged.

Owen froze and let out a low gasp. “You mean you wouldn’t come over just for me? I’m not good enough?” His voice cracked near the end and he sounded like he was holding back tears.

Curt’s eyes widened. “Of course I would come over just for you, honey. I love you so much. You are way more than good enough for me. I didn’t mean it like-” Owen cut his lover off with a soft kiss on the cheek.

“I know that love. I was just messing with you.” He admitted with a semi sheepish smile.

Curt stuck his tongue out at him. Like the mature spy his boyfriend is.

“Not funny asshole. You are too good an actor sometimes.” Owen nodded and gave Curt another kiss on the cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He leaned in to kiss his boyfriend again, get him smiling again, when the cat decided she wanted in on the action, butting her little head against Curt.

Curt smiled and reached a hand up to scratch at her ears to the cat’s delight. Owen felt the soft vibrations of her purrs against his hands. “See what you are going to have to deal with Fluff?” Curt questioned the kitty. Owen sputtered. “I have not agreed to take the cat yet!” He pointed out.

“But you are going to right?” Curt looked at him beseechingly. As if in understanding the situation at hand, the kitten let out an adorable little mewl before giving a tiny kitten lick to Owen’s hand.

Damn both of them.

“I guess I am.” He acquiesced with an exaggerated sigh. “Yes!” Curt exclaimed with a large grin as he plopped to sit on the edge of his bed. Owen let the cat jump down onto the bed before sitting down himself. Again as if understanding what had just happened, the cat mewled happily at him before going to curl up on one of Curt’s pillows.

“Thank you.” Curt said once Owen was beside him, his voice sounding half sincere and half smug. Little bastard knew Owen would cave. “You’re lucky I love you Curt Mega.” He teased. He expects to be teased in return, as per usual but Curt forgoes their banter to give him a genuine smile. “I know I am.”

Owen barely had time to smile back before Curt’s head was tucked under his chin, the American agent’s arms winding around his waist and hugging him tightly. He returned the hug, one hand coming up to play with the back of Curt’s hair while the other simply rested on his partner’s back. They sat in silence and contentment for a minute.

“How long do we have?” Curt asked, voice muffled against Owen’s chest. The question was posed with clear hesitancy. As if Curt expected him to say they had only minutes left together. He was glad that was not the case. “I have five days before my flight. Please tell me you don’t have a mission coming up right now?” It was Owen’s turn to be hesitant and worried, though his worries were quickly eased by feeling Curt’s lips pull up into a grin against him before being totally swept away by Curt’s words. “Cynthia has me catching up on paperwork for the next week and a half. I’ll be at home.”

He knows to most couples five days would seem like nothing. But in their line of work, in separate countries and agencies, in a forbidden relationship, five days with no work and no distractions was a true rarity. “Just us for five whole days.” Owen spoke aloud, knowing Curt’s thoughts must be echoing his. He goes to say something more but interrupts himself with a yawn.

“Tired darling?” Curt’s tone is teasing but his face betrays his concern as he pulls back and notices Owen is a bit paler than normal and has slight bags under his eyes. Owen shrugs off the concern rather sheepishly. “I umm...haven’t really slept since the flight over. Wanted to get done with the mission as soon as possible. Give us as much time together as I could.”

Curt sighed before squeezing him tighter. “I appreciate that. And you know I love every second we get to spend together. But that could be dangerous on a mission. Lack of sleep can make you lose focus, react slower, and a whole bunch of other bad shit. I don’t ever want you getting hurt or���.” Curt trailed off.

“I know that. I wouldn’t do it if it were too risky. You’re the reckless one remember.” He joked but Curt didn’t even chuckle. He leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss he could to Curt’s lips. “I know what I can handle, love. I didn’t put myself in any unnecessary danger. I promise.”

This seemed to appease Curt to Owen’s relief. “Besides, the faster it got done the more we would have time to do together right?” He said, hoping to cheer Curt back up.

It worked, bringing the smile he adored back to his partner’s face. “Well the first thing we need to do is sleep together.” Curt announced to which Owen immediately leaned in and kissed his lover’s neck. “You read my mind.” He practically purred out between kisses. Curt let him press a few more kisses to his soft skin and just barely begin to suck on a sensitive part of his love’s neck before pushing him back.

“No. I mean actual sleep Owen.” Curt clarified. Owen definitely did not pout at that. “You did that on purpose. And I don’t need to go to sleep. I just got here.” He also definitely didn’t whine as he spoke.

“You just said you hadn’t slept in over forty eight hours. Don’t need sleep my ass.” Curt retorted. “I would be much happier doing something with your ass than sleeping.” Owen mumbled back. Curt grinned and patted his cheek affectionately. He glared back with all the heat he could muster. Which was honestly not much. It looked more like a sulk.

“Okay. Since I can see you are going to be stubborn, how about I make you an offer.” Curt suggested. Owen lifted his head and regarded Curt interestedly. “What kind of offer?”

“You go to sleep now.” Owen immediately went to interject but Curt pressed a finger against his lips. “You go to sleep now. I will stay and cuddle you until you fall asleep. Then I will get up and make your favorites for dinner while you are sleeping. And once you wake up we can eat together and then I will put Special Agent Fluff out in the living room with a bed and a few toys and you and I can come back in here and spend the next few hours doing whatever you want.” Curt’s sultry tone had returned for the final sentence and damn it if it wasn’t tempting.

He made a show of considering for a minute before speaking. “You are an excellent negotiator Agent Mega.” The British spy complemented wryly. “I try Agent Carvour. So do we have a deal?” Owen let the question hang for just a moment before responding. “We do.”

Curt grinned at him. “Good. Do you need to borrow some pajamas or do you have your own?"

He technically had his own but wearing his boyfriend's clothes was a guilty pleasure, one they both had coincidentally. "I want to borrow some."

Curt shooting him a slightly smirking grin is the only indication that he noticed the distinction Owen had used. Owen watched absent-mindedly as his partner rifled through his drawers. After a minute or so he tossed something over his shoulder without looking back.

Owen caught it with ease and examined it. A soft pair of sleep trousers that looked like they were just slightly too long for his American counterpart meaning they should fit him quite nicely. He raised an eyebrow as Curt shut his drawers and started back towards the bed, turning the blankets down.

"What?" Curt asked when he noticed Owen's stare, radiating innocence."You forgot to give me a shirt, love." He informed, even though he was absolutely certain Curt was well aware of this. "Did I? Whoops. Sorry, O."

Despite his apology the man made no move to actually go get a shirt for him, instead climbing into bed and tucking himself under the covers.

Owen huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes before changing into the trousers, chucking his worn clothes into a pile in the corner. He climbed back into bed and scooped his boyfriend into his arms. Curt squirmed slightly in his arms, adjusting against him before stilling, his body relaxing. Owen felt his body relax too in response, enjoying sleeping beside his love for the first time in so long. Wishing he could do this every night but knowing that was impossible, so he would just have to make the most of the time they had together now.

The last thing he felt before he drifted off with a smile on his face was a small warm weight jumping up and settling on his hip.

[sheep33hallow]

Dexter (SukunaXYuuji) 1/5

Tags: old man!Yuuji, domestic SukaIta, Sukuna Style marriage proposal, reverse chronological story telling, Sukuna has his own body.

Completed on AO3

Chapter Rating: T (Gets spicier in chapter 4)

Summary: When he was younger, he told people Sukuna was his twin, then his brother and now his grandson. At the sweet age of 83, Yuuji, with a missing arm that he lost on a mission in his 50s, sat on his rocking chair in the early morning. 

He had woken up before Sukuna, his bastard demon who has endless excuses for never leaving him even after getting his own body. You'd think as one gets older the people around them would be nicer. 

Sukuna acts the worst. 

______

When he was younger, he told people Sukuna was his twin, then his brother and now his grandson. At the sweet age of 83, Yuuji, with a missing arm that he lost on a mission in his 50s, sat on his rocking chair in the early morning. 

He had woken up before Sukuna, his bastard demon who has endless excuses for never leaving him even after getting his own body. You'd think as one gets older the people around them would be nicer. 

Sukuna acts the worst. 

The stares they get when Sukuna yells at him in the grocery stores when Yuuji wants something that goes against diet, is mind numbing. 

Yet, the item in question will end up in the house at some point. 

"Why the fuck don't you have a blanket on you?" Sukuna walks onto the porch. An afghan that Megumi's husband made for him one birthday a few years ago rested in his hand. 

He throws it at Yuuji. 

With his one arm, he's able to cover his body. 

"Better?" Yuuji goes back to rocking back and forth. 

Sukuna grunts at him. "Take better care of yourself." 

The chair squeaks with Yuuji's movements. "I will." 

+

"Sukuna." He whines. He's crouched over the dead body of their beloved pet. A small cat they found as a kitten and nursed back to health. 

Dexter was always found in the crook of Sukuna's neck when they slept. 

The stairs creak as his demon descends them. "Why are you crying? So damn loud." He says the last part to himself. 

He walks over to Dexter's bed outside the kitchen's doorway. He pauses. Looking at the old man sniffing over the creature. Sukuna doesn't waste tears over weak creatures. 

Bending down, he scoops Yuuji into his arms. The old man flays about in his hold, crying. 

Very ugly cry. 

"It's cold down there, idiot." He holds the sorcerer bridal style. Yuuji rubs his face into Sukuna's chest. The demon can feel the snot seeping through. 

Disgusting. 

"Where do you want to bury it?" Sukuna asked. 

Yuuji sniffs. "Can we cremate her?" 

Sukuna was thinking the same thing. 

"Why not just bury her and be done with it? Wasting my money on a weak creature." He looks at their pet. Thinking about the last ten years they've had her. His stupid human was resting on the couch with flu the day he found her. Somehow she ended up on their lawn crying, and instead of waiting for Sukuna to get home from the store, he went outside and picked her up. 

Sukuna had to make two doctor appointments that day. Then they had to get the house cleaned because she brought fleas with her. 

"Please." His wrinkled face pleads to Sukuna. 

He kicks the cat, just to make sure she's dead. 

She jolts up and Yuuji screams, flaying in his arms again. 

The cat blinks at them. 

Sukuna puts Yuuji down, then crouches down in front of the cat. Then claps loudly. 

It doesn't flinch. 

He looks over his shoulder, staring up at Yuuji. "She's fucking deaf." 

Yuuji smiles, and with the help of Sukuna's shoulder, sits on his shins to pet her. 

Sukuna goes into the kitchen to make breakfast. 

Another fucking day in their household. 

+

Yuuji stays in bed. 

Sukuna does too. 

They're curled together watching a true crime documentary about Gojo. He's jealous of how his teacher looks, the same bright white hair, but it's longer now. Similar to how his friend Geto wore it. 

"What are you going to do when I die?" He's half asleep, Sukuna's body runs warm. 

"You aren't." 

Yuuji laughs. "All humans die." 

"Not my human." 

"So you're claiming me now? Should have married me then." Megumi had a beautiful wedding. He was low key jealous that he'd never have that. 

"We share blood. What would marriage prove?" Dexter is curled on his neck. The overweight cat continues to think it's a kitten. 

The doctor said she was fine. Just old age. 

Yuuji shrugs. "I want to tell people I love you." 

Sukuna groans. "But I don't love you." 

"Maybe not in the human way." Mumbles Yuuji. 

Sukuna didn't have a response. 

They stay silent after that. Sukuna only leaves the bed once to make some hot cocoa for Yuuji. "Don't make a mess." He warns before putting Dexter back in her spot. 

The following morning, when Yuuji is pouring his coffee, Sukuna comes up behind him and asks a question. 

Resting his hand on Yuuji's waist. "If we get married, it'll be traditional. That western shit is an eye sore." 

Yuuji takes a sip. But backs his hips back slightly against his demon's cock. "What's the catch?" 

He laughs into Yuuji's white hair. "You haven't forgotten how to bargain." He says. "We're moving." 

Yuuji pauses. Cup still pressed against his lips. "I like the city." 

"It's too fucking loud and you barely visit the school anymore as a mentor." 

But everything is so close. Sukuna's going to want them isolated behind some fancy gate. 

"That's not fair." 

Sukuna backs up. Yuuji puts his cup down before turning around. 

"You've been wanting to get married since forever, I offered it up and now you pussy out!" He's heaving. His arms are spread wide in frustration. 

Yuuji stays calm. "I said it's not fair. That's not a no." 

Sukuna looks unconvinced. 

"I just don't want to be on a mountain. I still want to be within walking distance of a store." 

"Mountains are nice." Sukuna urges. 

"I'm old." 

"But not dead." 

Yuuji grabs his hand. "Not yet." 

"You won't." Sukuna mutters. 

Yuuji ignores him. "Let's get married in the Spring." 

Sukuna blinks at him. "I was thinking that too." 

He's being honest. 

Yuuji pulls Sukuns close. He wants a kiss since the asshole doesn't have a ring for him. "Kiss me." 

Sukuna does. He kisses his human in all the best ways. With softness, with want and with some annoyance when Yuuji ruins the moment with words. 

"You love me." He whispers against his lips. 

Sukuna grabs a handful of Yuuji's ass with both hands. "In a non-human way."

AO3

[aldercaps]

There isn't really a point to this post. I just needed to put these words outside of myself, to give it somewhere to go.

going under a readmore because I had a lot to say apparently (this is not a happy post, nor does it have a satisfying ending)

Toby was a defacto birthday gift to my eleven-year-old self, after I had pestered my parents for over a year on getting a kitten. He was the first cat that was truly "mine", in that I was his favourite person and he held the dearest place in my heart. He turned ten years old this year, in March, which was also the year anniversary of when I last saw him.

He's doing well, last I heard, living with one of my mum's friends, who I don't know. My memory of last year is bad enough that I couldn't remember that it had been march when I saw him last, I thought I'd had more time. I didn't get to see him off, mum dropped him off when I was in class. I hadn't lived with him since 2021, when I moved out into my first flat. I wanted to take him with me, but it is almost impossible to find student housing that is pet friendly, and so I said goodbye to him (temporarily) as my mother's new boyfriend moved in. When my mother decided to move with her boyfriend to the other side of the country to an inner city apartment, she told me she wouldn't be taking Toby with her. I scrambled to find someone I knew that would take him in, just for the rest of 2022 until I could take him with me, but I couldn't manage it. I haven't seen him since march last year, wasn't able to come with my mum to say goodbye. It's taken me so many tries to try and write a post like this but I haven't managed to without being overcome with emotion.

When I was in high school mum always insisted that I take Toby with me when I move, since he was so attached to me and I was the one most willing to put up with his antics. He would play ambush with me, hiding in the dark shadows around the house in the evenings, waiting to jump out at me when I least expected it. He remains the only cat I've ever had that enthusiastically enjoyed belly rubs, and would stretch out on his back over my lap for them. We would play a game where, most days an hour before dinner, he would come into my room, and yell at me until I looked at him. Then, he would walk out of the room and wait for me just outside. Then, he would walk with me downstairs (if I paused he would pause, and jump up to headbutt my hand) to the kitchen where the cat kibble was kept, and do a running leap onto his stool to signify that he wanted dinner now, please.

When I was about 12-13 I took to the idea of training him, and after a couple of years of sporadic practise I could pat a chair or surface in the house if he was in the room, and he would do an enthusiastic running leap onto it, and of course received either a treat or bounteous pats as a reward.

He was my heart animal, and I love him so deeply. I try to console myself that he's living the high life as a single cat in a loving household, which he always preferred (enjoying the company of humans much more than other cats), but I think the not knowing is what gets me. The last photo of the four is the most recent photo I have of him, courtesy of my mother, from November last year. My sister told me that after I moved out he would walk into my old room and cry for minutes on end, or look for me throughout the house for weeks afterwards. I visited him as often as I could, once every two weeks or so, but I never felt properly welcome there with my mum's boyfriend there, since we never got on well at all. Later last year my sister said something that i think sums up the situation well: "I can't believe we lost our childhood home and our cats for some guy mum broke up with two months after she moved." Mum still has Cassie, and I can't blame her for making decisions that she thought would add to her happiness, but I don't know if I will ever get over losing Toby like that. He was one of my reasons to keep living through the worst years of my worst mental health, my light in the darkness. He was a constant I didn't know I needed until I lost it. The grief I've felt after losing him is something that has confirmed to me how much I need a companion animal in my life, and the past two years of not living with an animal of any kind has really cemented that for me.

Anyway. if you got this far, give your pets a kiss or a scritch for me, and tell them you love them.

[lostmyremembrall]

greetings! may i join your 1K event?? and congratulations for your achievements of 1K supporters, not followers but supporters because yess we are indeed your supporters who love your works 🥳

The Diadem ( 👑 ) & Tom's Era

a she/her, my mbti is esfp, and my temperament is sanguine. in the house of hufflepuff i belong 💛 im an easy-going person and is easily entertained— i tend to laugh at mostly anything (unless they're harmful) . although im an extrovert, i do value my time alone too, perhaps not as much as introverts. usually if i were to be alone i'd think of my self-development, if not then i'd just sleep lol. im a heavy sleeper and also a big eater 😋 i dont know if that's informative but yeah .

i have quite a big circle of friends, in school, I'm mostly friends with everyone who's unproblematic but even if they're not my friends (like acquaintances) , i have absolutely greeted them and had small talk at least once. even so, i have like two to three friends whom i'd trust my whole life with. im close with the teachers too but i wouldn't say im a teachers pet, just like to have conversations and bond with them.

dark humour? 🤩 i love them! dark places? im not quite fond of it, so lumos maxima! my hobby is cooking, it's very beneficial for me and my stomach. i also don't know if this is informative, but i love to play in muds. yk those muds after rains. i hate insects and bugs. i love both cats and dogs but i prefer felines. im a pretty active person, i dont want to waste my "you-only-live-once" life being cooped up so i eat up those indoor and outdoor activities. in quidditch i'd play as a chaser and fav subject would be care of magical creatures

i think thats it, thank you in advance and dont rush this one <3 i understand you must have lots to do and matters to be taken care of outside of tumblr, so i'll patiently wait dont you worry 🫡🖤

👑𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

ohh and also from the same anon who's esfp and in hufflepuff, a missing thing i forgot to include — although im an active person who loves activities, im not competitive and sometimes is scared of competitive people 🥹 yes i'll try my hardest to win but what matters is im having fun 👍🏻

Era changed to the Golden Trio era at request

A/N: I looooove when the request for personalised HC is long! Not just because it gives me more things to write about, but also because I genuinely love getting to know you all as a person! It's lovely, imagining how we'd all belong at Hogwarts because Hogwarts is our home to all of us❤️ Also I am soo happy that you mentioned quidditch because now I get to talk about the kind of an amazing quidditch player you'd be!

𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡! Now closed

𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

You're definitely a strong contender against Cedric Diggory for popularity ranking lol

To everyone, you glow and shine and steal the spotlight and they adore you for it.

You're known for your friendliness and ability to make others feel comfortable.

You're definitely the cool upper-class student who's cool with the professors (cracking inside jokes), but you don't suck up to them.

Tom appreciates that you treat him with respect and friendliness just like others.

He was particularly shocked to find that you enjoyed dark humour, contrary to the Hufflepuff-ness you give off.

Your interactions with him mostly revolve around going on prefect patrols.

Banters. Dark jokes.

Being teased by Tom about being afraid of the dark.

"What? Afraid of the dark?" Tom raises a brow with a smirk, and extinguishes their wands' light.

The house elves let you use the kitchen to your content.

They love having you around. Things get a bit hectic during the dinner rush, but otherwise, you often find yourself enjoying a cup of tea with house elves.

Your housemates tease you for being able to sleep through anything.

In your first year, someone's plant caught fire at night. You were that one student who managed to sleep amidst the chaos of panic and the alarm.

You are often hungry, known to randomly say in the middle of a class, conversation, etc. "I'm hungry," "Has anyone got any food?" "How long until lunch?"

People who spend time with you find this trait of yours endearing. They usually come prepared with an apple or two.

Tom, especially found that the patrol with you works most smoothly when he brings a snack for you.

When you open your mouth to voice that you're getting hungry, Tom typically takes out a snack from his robe pocket and offers it to you for the road.

You have a loyal pet cat, as equally active as you. When they're up for it, they follow after you in school for whatever activity you're up to.

𝒬𝓊𝒾𝒹𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽

You're a Chaser on Hufflepuff's quidditch team with Cedric Diggory.

Since you're so popular and loved by everyone, the entire pitch cheers for you when you make an entrance or score a point.

Even some other house students quietly root for you!

To many younger students, you are this approachable upper-class student who looks smashing on a broom. And you're an object of admiration. People want to be like you or be friends with you, or both.

Since you're not as competitive, you do find it difficult to communicate with some of the more intense quidditch players.

To you, quidditch is all about having fun first before winning, and you absolutely cannot tolerate foul play.

𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓬

You have a very strong constitution. You are very healthy mentally and physically, which means that you are a tough opponent to beat in Quidditch and duelling. It takes you a good number of hexes to take you down.

It also means that your magic is very stable. Rarely do you experience any mishaps from your magic going out of control.

You are one powerful/reliable witch.

𝓐𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓼

You were chosen as a prefect for your good grades, lack of trouble you've caused, and popularity.

The professors suspect that with how much lower-class students admire you, you'd be a good influence.

Your favourite and your best class is Care of Magical Creatures.

Professor Kettleburn adores your enthusiasm in his class.

But, unfortunately, it also means that you often end up having to clean up the mess that is caused by Professor Kettleburn's oversight.

When Professor Kettleburn's engorged ashwinder went out of control and caused a fire during the play, you were one of the few students courageous enough to stay behind and attempt to tame it.

You've made quite a few magical creature friends.

In particular, you always pay a visit to a dugbog after a rain to play with him in the mud.

For the love and care you have for the magical creatures, you are amusingly intolerant of any bugs or insects.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Have you ever had a pet die, and how do you recover from the grief?

I've only had one pet die, a cat named Pistachio. I was 15 years old at the time and it happened suddenly while he was being taken to an emergency vet clinic in another city -- my parents were out of town for some reason that weekend and left me alone with him on Saturday morning, when we noticed he wasn't feeling well. We took him to his usual veterinarian (a few blocks from our house) but they said he needed to be looked at by someone who specialized in cats, so we called around until we found an available spot at this other place, which was already closed for the day because of a major snowstorm. They agreed to see us anyway, though, despite the fact that their building didn't have any windows or heat, meaning that everyone involved was shivering uncontrollably as they worked to keep Pistachio alive long enough for transportation. He died soon after we got there, probably within minutes of arriving at the clinic.

(This is all very rambling but basically what I mean to say here is: I don't think I ever recovered from that.)

In retrospect I realize how utterly absurd my parents' decision-making process was here. If you can get your kid to stay home alone on a winter weekend, you should. I thought about calling them up during the drive to the second clinic and asking them why they weren't just driving back to our house then and there, but instead I put off making calls ("shouldn't take too long") and let everything go through its usual channels. At least part of the issue was that the clinics nearest to our house were always full of people trying to bring their pets in for "routine" exams, so if anything serious came up they would send people away to wait -- thus the conceptual separation between "serious injury" and "non-emergency." But given the distance of the places where these things could actually happen, this meant essentially never getting seen for non-urgent problems unless it was also a weekend. I remember going into the first clinic thinking something was wrong with Pistachio's leg and having to sit there waiting for like half an hour before anyone even saw us; eventually a nurse walked over with a wheelchair and explained apologetically that she couldn't really help since she was working her way through a huge stack of cases involving urgent injuries.

The thing that bugs me most now is not the lack of human sympathy shown toward me specifically, nor am I much bothered anymore by the circumstances surrounding Pistachio's death itself. No, the thing that still bothers me is realizing that my parental units are apparently capable of telling themselves such ghoulish stories about animals that live in their own household -- stories which include agonies beyond imagining, including the idea of watching a beloved animal slowly die in front of you in excruciating pain, knowing that you cannot do anything to alleviate it. What kind of people are willing to tell themselves this? It seems almost impossible to fathom, yet there they are, able to console themselves with these bizarre fantasies every single day! And then they wake up in the morning, look outside, and ask themselves "how did my kids sleep?" Like nothing bad has ever happened to them, or to anyone they know, no matter how close or distant. The ability to forget, to move on. Where does that come from? Did it develop naturally or was it deliberately cultivated

[carpe-astra]

Ice & Ghosts

Andres He's been waiting in the same cafe he'd taken Mael to, several weeks before. Sitting at a table near the edge of the small room, humming along to the lazy jazz music drifting out of ceiling speakers. There's a cup in front of him, filled with untouched tea. He's not entirely sure whether to expect his company early, late, or exactly on time, and as a result arrived nearly as soon as the sun sank below the horizon. Hopefully she'd found the note, hidden away amongst papers on a desk at a certain school. Scrawled in neat cursive on the petal of a small, but precisely-folded origami flower, "I know about your cat. Want to help. Meet me-" And the address of the place in which he was now seated, along with a time. Short. Simple. And maybe a bit dramatic. A little flair never hurt anyone.

Spektor Iocaine ‡There had been a great deal of surprise to find the letter tucked away in a stack of ungraded Geography exams, accompanied with sharp burn of emotion that she didn't have the time to untangle. Only to know that it simultaneously ached and drew forth a cold anger. Tucked away in the top pocket of her briefcase, the teacher had followed her usual steps during the day, sticking to routine nearly by muscle memory only. It was only at the end, when she was locking up her second classroom for the night as the time dwindled down to what had been listed on the flower, that she deviated. Rather than head home, she headed into the city and to the Merchant's Circle to find the cafe listed. On the way, sparing a moment to text Liliana where she was going, why, and to tell Knox. Something she would be able to find when she rose for the evening, in case something went awry.‡

‡At precisely the time requested was when Spektor stepped through the doors, but the previous fifteen minutes had been spent across the street, studying those that entered and left, and whom lingered within. For exactly that reason, her steps do not waver as she made her way to the uncomfortably familiar man, resting a hand on the back of the seat across the table.‡ I knew you were a stalker, but taking someone's dead pet is a real low.

Andres Castillo A pleasant smile is offered to the woman heading towards him, even as the accusation falls from her lips. "Hello. It's Spektor, isn't it? Or would you prefer Ms. Iocane? Please, have a seat." He waves towards the chair on which she'd placed her hand, and settles back somewhat in his own. "Is that the name you were given at birth, or did you change it? I hope you'll pardon the intrusive question, it's just… quite a name." And he waits, hands folded on the table in front of him. Either for her to sit down across from him, or to refuse the offer.

Spektor Iocaine I'd much prefer neither be spoken by you, but if you must address me, Ms. Iocaine is acceptable. ‡Rare was the day Spektor kept anything but a quiet, demurring pleasantry in place, a mask of her own that kept a great deal at a distance. Something to help keep a cap on the riot of emotions just under the cold exterior, waiting to make her blood boil into a Bloodrage. Her cat had been the last thing from her life as a mortal, and the hollow space where the bond had existed was frozen over and empty. Like his little grave. Her hand tightened on the back of the chair before drawing it out to take a seat finally.‡ It was the name I was given at my death. ‡She only needed to play nice until she had the information about Ghost, and then she could coax this Kindred outside and way from civilians, before taking him down.‡

Andres Castillo "Ms. Iocane, then." The smile on his face is entirely too warm for the strange meeting. He tries to meet her eyes, and she might begin to feel a tug in the back of her mind. A sort of out-of-place, people pleasing fondness, directed solely towards the man sitting across from her. Growing, as he leans forwards, and lowers his voice a little. "I have no idea where your cat is, or what happened to it. But that's alright. Maybe it'll turn up eventually. I was actually going to ask whether you'd like to come with me. Maybe we could walk and talk. The weather's lovely, tonight." He'd considered waiting. Chatting away with the other vampire, hinting at knowing things he didn't. But it's safer this way. He only really has one goal, and more meddling than necessary only meant more things that could go wrong.

Spektor Iocaine ‡She is looking at his face, his eyes, reading him. Judging for herself if he was lying to get to Mael, or if he really knew something about Ghost. As she studied him, she began to realize there was something… not quite handsome, because Knox was handsome in his rugged way, but perhaps acutely beautiful about Andres. She wasn't quite sure how she hadn't noticed it before, but there it was. The admission that he didn't know anything about Ghost left her frowning, perhaps it would be best to walk and talk with him as it were. It felt rare that anyone wanted to spend time with her, and much less a man. Besides, it'd let her get closer to him, which was what she wanted, wasn't it? To help Mael, but also because Andres wanted her to go with him. Spektor smoothed hair behind her ear, mouth moving into a smile.‡ Of course you wouldn't know anything about Ghost. Although I don't understand why you would lie about it in the first place. But you could explain, while we walk. ‡They needed to be away from the civilians. For their safety. Or was it because she wanted him alone? Well yes, of course she wanted him alone. Spektor rose from the chair she had just occupied, gesturing towards the door in silent implication for Andres to lead the way.‡

Andres Castillo His face is largely impassive, minus the still-friendly smile curling across his lips. An expression not quite reflected by his eyes. Taking time to study his face, she might also notice imperfections that hadn't been present the last time he'd been around. The faintest of scars, running in a jagged, but only vaguely noticeable diagonal groove across his face. An even fainter line tracing its way from the edge of his jaw, up, around to run along one part of his hairline, and connect to the more prominent blemish. They're still healing, but considerably more slowly than he'd like. Anything immediately obvious covered by skillfully applied makeup. "I hope you'll forgive me for alluding to know about your cat. In all honesty, Ms. Iocane, I really just wanted to see you." He rises smoothly from his seat in turn, and heads for the door. Moving at a leisurely, human pace, and holding the door open for Spektor. "Tell me more about what's going on with that, though. The cat's name is ghost?" He has a direction in mind, and starts to head down the sidewalk once they're both outside.

Spektor Iocaine ‡Something had happened to him. She wanted to ask, but there was a tingle in the back of her head that asking would be dangerous. He was dangerous, and she knew he was interested in stealing beautiful faces, she hoped he wouldn't ask for hers. Although, she found herself thinking, she'd be willing to give it over. Best not to draw focus, and avoid it altogether. She swept through the door he held open for her in gentlemanly fashion, pausing on the sidewalk for Andres to catch up. Tucking hands into the small of her back, the briefcase dangling from the curl of her fingers where it swung lightly with her steps as she matched his pace.‡ I suppose I could be convinced to forgive you. ‡More teasing than she had intended, tasting her tone with some surprise. A surprise that swiftly melts away.‡ You did? What for? ‡Despite being nighttime, there were still people on the streets. Those who survived in the night, or preferred it, beginning their 'day' so to speak. Bustling from businesses to business, running errands or shopping, or working.‡ Ah, yes. His name was Ghost. He was a childhood pet that I took with me when I left home. When I was changed, I ghouled him, so he would survive. My Sire… he didn't like animals, and I was afraid he'd try to kill him… ‡The words spill out before she even realized she was saying anything at all, more than happy to tell him what he wanted her to, until they could be alone.‡

Andres Castillo "Just to talk, Spektor. You caught my eye, the last time I visited the club. There's something I'd like to show you." He can't even recall whether she'd been there, the last time. Doesn't very much care. "I am sorry about Ghost. It sounds like he was very dear to you." The apartment he's been staying at isn't very far from the cafe. A few blocks down, a right turn, and another block. He quickens his pace to a not-uncomfortable stroll, stealing occasional glances at the Kindred beside him. "Hate to change the subject, but… How is our mutual friend? Mael?"

Spektor Iocaine ‡ You caught my eye. It was strange to think that after all this time, people had noticed her. She had let herself fade into the background for so long, and here was another man saying he had seen her. The smile she wore grew, then it faded as they continued speaking about Ghost. And it was nice of Andres to express his condolences, wasn't it? Her gaze roamed the area as they walked, noting the thinning crowd as they ate up the distance and made a few turns, but her attention always drifted back to Andres before long, catching his eye when he sought her gaze.‡ Thank you. He was dear, so it means a lot. ‡Hadn't there been a reason she had been angry at him before? She could hardly even imagine being upset with him now though. Whatever it was, it must not have been that important, and Andres was always so nice to her, so it must have been a mistake anyway. Thoughts shift and slide, falling to Mael. Again, a sharp tingle went up her spine, blooming through the back of her head. Her pace slowed, coming nearly to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk with a perplexed frown.‡ Mael? He's doing well… why?

Andres Castillo "Of course." The upscale, stylishly minimalistic apartment complex is within view when Spektor slows. A reminder to tread lightly. Testing the strength of the strings he's manipulating won't end well, more than likely for either party. "I just wanted to check in." He tries to let it slide without issue. "Would you mind if we made a quick stop? My apartment's just up ahead. I jotted down a bit of what I'd heard about Ghost on a paper- just rumors, because I hadn't though about ghouling pets before, and it caught my attention. Now that I'm hearing how much he meant to you… There's always a chance I stumbled across something you might have missed? I'd like to at least try to help." Shaped brows raise expectantly, but his tone remains deliberately patient.

Spektor Iocaine ‡The neighborhood is swankier than anything Spektor has ever lived in, alive or dead. She probably had enough money by this point to live in a place like this, but in the end, it was easier to find a place in the Red Light. Safer in Valentino's domain, and easier for Knox to find her. The rows of uniform houses, upscale and beautiful, were enjoyable to look at all the same. Something about Andres' response settled uneasily, trying to place the why of it. Wasn't she supposed to do something about him? Those thoughts slip away however, as he mentioned Ghost again. It really was kind of him to go so far for her, wasn't it? Making a short stop for him was the least she could do, for how he was trying to help her.‡ Oh, of course. I would be grateful to see what you might have noted. I don't mind stopping at all. ‡It was growing harder to look away from him, caught up in his gravitational allure like a moth to flame. She desperately wanted that information, with a feverous fervor that was unlike anything she'd felt before. All of that control she'd built up for so long being dismantled in an attempt to become friends, and grow relationships, and let herself fall in love, and that allowed the emotions to shine through the cracks. Ones Andres seemed to see in her, and pluck at.‡ Please, lead the way.

Andres Castillo In spite of himself, the ease with which she agrees has him relaxing. "Thank you, Spektor. You know something? You're incredibly easy to talk to. Has anyone told you that you have a knack for making people feel comfortable?" They near the building, and he pulls the door open for her again. Waiting, and stepping in after her, assuming that she moved through the door. The inside of the building was just as generically tasteful as the outside. He's staying on the ground level for a variety of reasons, and it isn't long at all before he stops to fish out keys and unlock a door. "I'm afraid I haven't had much of a chance to decorate my space, yet. So I'll apologize for that in advance." The look he gives the woman is only vaguely apologetic. "Haven't decided yet whether I'll be staying here for very long." March 1, 2023

Spektor Iocaine I think I usually get the opposite. ‡Too formal when she did talk, and closed off at all times to boot. But it was nice of Andres to compliment her like that, and she found that the annoying tingle in the back of her head was growing more dull.‡ Although I am glad to hear it. ‡She walks in through the door he held open for her, pausing when he hunted for his keys. They were alone finally, but she couldn't remember why she had wanted it so badly in the first place. Or no, it was because she wanted to spend time with him wasn't it? That had to be it. Andres was always so busy with others, and he had shown an interest in her. A distant thread of guilt crept up, and she hoped Knox would understand. And she wasn't hiding anything - she'd asked Liliana to tell him… and really, she was being polite, and Andres had so graciously asked for the quick stop to get her information, to help, so how could she even think to say no, or change her mind?‡ Oh, that's quite alright. I completely understand. Knowing something might be temporary puts a damper on the decorating and all.

Andres Castillo "Really? That surprises me." He pushes the room door open, this time stepping inside first, and waiting to be followed. The room was neat, but generally unremarkable. And notably bare. The main room, with blank walls and a carpeted floor, opens up to a kitchen. Granite countertops, tile backsplash. A short hall leads to a bedroom, and a bathroom directly across from that. As with the rest of the building, it's clearly nice, but lacking any particular personality. He despises it. There's a couch in the room they step into. And what looks to be a rectangular, white garage freezer directly across from that, where one might put an entertainment center. "You don't mind closing the door after you? Like I said, this place really isn't much. But you were right, I guess I just… Don't want to get too comfortable. I have been considering moving, actually. Soon." He drifts absently towards the couch, but doesn't move to sit down. Tracking Spektor carefully out of the corners of his eyes. Waiting, expectantly, for her to take the place in. Urging down slowly growing impatience.

Spektor Iocaine I suppose I relegated myself to the background for so long, that I forgot how to really speak with people. ‡Platitudes and pleasantries were easy enough, but the deeper, more meaningful things were harder to dig out. There was still so much she wanted to tell Knox, and Liliana, and the others, but somewhere between wish and action, everything had gotten stuck.‡ If you don't settle here, where would you move? ‡It was hard to imagine him in any other kind of place, as she took her time to study the room. It was rather empty, almost abnormally so for someone to be staying there at all. Spektor closed the door as he requested, golden eyes falling onto the freezer set up near the front of the room. Some kindred slept more strangely than the rest. Continuing to eye it, she glanced briefly at Andres.‡ Should I just wait here?

Andres Castillo "I think you underestimate yourself, darling." It's almost a joke. There's a reason he picked her to bring here, out on all of them. "I'm not sure, yet. I'll admit, the idea of just roaming for a while is appealing. No matter how many years you've been alive, there's always something new to see. Speaking of-" He catches the direction she was looking in. Exactly what he's been hoping for. Waves towards the freezer, as if to encourage any curiosity. "If it wouldn't be any trouble, that would be best. But… If you'd like, I think there's something in there that may actually catch your interest. Go ahead and take a look." He doesn't move for the hall, but waits, still standing in front of the couch.

Spektor Iocaine Roaming certainly has its appeal. ‡It seemed to suit several of their coterie just fine. Maybe as she grew older and the years passed by, the human trappings of a home would grow to be stifling. But for now, she enjoyed a sequestered place to rest her head when she decided to.‡ Sure, it's no problem to wait here… ‡Words trailing off when Andres mentioned the freeze.r The dull, almost non-existent tingling became a dull buzz, accompanied by a frown. Her grip on the briefcase tightened, but she had already begun to walk closer to it before she even realized she was moving. He wanted her to look. ‡ What is it? ‡And she wanted to please him.‡

Andres Castillo Eyes track her every movement, every expression. Annoyance prickling in the back of his mind upon seeing her frown, but there's no indication of the feeling on his face. "See for yourself. Please. Call it a gift. For being so thoughtful as to meet with me." He takes a slight step forwards himself.

Spektor Iocaine You didn't have to get me a gift. ‡Despite her demurring words, a flush of excitement spread through her. The last gift she had received was years ago from Liliana, and truth be told, looking at the violin these days was a struggle. Desperate to play the instrument, even while she could still sometimes feel the violin strings sawing through bone and muscle, and the strain of the Bloodrage clawing through her body to tear into what was hurting her. But those thoughts drift like liquid, seeping out of consciousness because he had been so kind as to get her a gift for meeting him. It must be something that needed to stay cold, because why else the freezer? The buzzing in the back of her head kept the thought circling, even as her own body reached for the lid to open it, and see what was inside.‡

Andres Castillo "Really, it was no trouble." Upon lifting the lid, she'll find the container next to empty. Save for a couple of small, opaque, vacuum-sealed plastic bags. Otherwise… It's just a silver-lined freezer. It had been a hassle to put together on such short notice, especially with his own aversion to the metal. Easier than working any other form of containment out, though. It's a fact that he appreciated vaguely, as he moves across the room in a burst of celerity, and tries to half-lift, half-shove the woman into the box.

Spektor Iocaine ‡Something didn't quite feel right, and it tried to poke and prod itself to the fore of her thoughts, but they were clouded heavily with the prospect of a gift from Andres, who had been so kind to her thus far. She was also glad that he had stopped asking about Mael, though it felt as if there was something else to it besides a strange prick of jealousy. She knew he was dangerous, every Kindred was dangerous. But the reason he was dangerous, it was just out of her reach. Looking into the freezer, she noticed the small plastic bags. They were the only thing in there, peeking through the cold swirls of frigid mist rising out of the freezer. Spektor started to reach for one of the bags, only to abruptly recoil when she realized there was silver. Eyes widening, half turning to look at Andres - just in time for him to shove at her.‡ Hey! No! What are you doing? ‡Everything flooded in at once, the curtain tore away by the imminent danger of the silver. Andres. Face stealer. Why had she followed him? Her next words disappear in a hiss of pain as she scrabbled to catch herself, fingers burning away by silver with one hand, the other trying to grab Andres' shirt, heedless if she scratched him up.‡

Andres Castillo Teeth grit, and he tries to yank her hand away from his shirt. An attempt to slam the lid closed at nearly the same time, regardless of whether his or her own hand is in the way. "It isn't the way I wanted things to go." And it's true. It would have been simpler if he could have just taken Mael's face and left. But that doesn't mean there's any particular regret attached to his actions. It's a means to an end, and the only other option would be to abandon the venture entirely. Which isn't happening. "…You'll be alright."

Spektor Iocaine ‡Every brush of skin against the silver made her burn, blisters erupting on fair flesh at even a hint of a graze. Smoke bubbling from where she touched it in acrid loops that stung the nose. She could also feel the silver weakening her, bleeding into her muscles like a sickness that drained her strength. She nearly rips Andres down with her, the slam of the lid on her arm making the bone creak - then snap with a wet sound with the silver lining. She shouted in pain, instinctively recoiling despite herself. Her shout twists and warps, growing unbearably loud with Spektor's real power. Sound manipulated from a scream, to a cold, bitter promise even with the lid closed, and the vampire locked inside to burn away from the silver.‡ "I'll kill you."

[alfvaen]

That Which Passes, Passes Like Clouds

In the summer of 2011, we found a kitten in our backyard.

We'd seen kittens back there before, but always before there'd been a mother cat.  We’d had one that had nested under our lilac bush and had her litter, apparently, and some of them wandered onto our patio, though they were skittish.  We tried to tempt them with a bowl of bread soaked in milk, and while they were happy to eat it, they wouldn't let us get near.

But this kitten seemed to be alone, and friendly.  No idea where she came from.  But we were catless at the time (our previous cat Felicity having proved to have kidney failure after we took her in to the vet for peeing all over the basement, so we'd had her put down), and it seemed like the time was right for a new one.  Though there was one snag--we were already planning on going on a vacation to Victoria and Vancouver in a few weeks...so we didn't bring her inside yet.  When we got back, we discovered our neighbours had also made plans to adopt her, and even taken her to the vet...but they allowed us to keep her because they already had a cat or two, and we didn't.

She was interesting cat, not quite Siamese or anything but with a vaguely similar colouring; our vet thought she was probably part ragdoll (not a breed I'd heard of before).  Her fut was quite light when we got her, and we named her Cloud.  Somewhat of a long-haired cat, too, which was a new experience.  She grew quickly, and her fur darkened.

We ended up letting her go outside (in warm weather, at least), since she'd come to us from outside and we'd left her there before.  Some will say that this makes us bad people, but whatever.  She was unhappy if she didn't get to go outside, although she wasn't a very vocal cat so she didn't meow about it that much, nor did she scratch.  She would tend to just sit patiently by the patio door and wait for us to notice her, and the same when she wanted to come in.

We moved houses the spring after we got her, which was stressful for her, but she adjusted quickly to the new home.  The previous owners had had cats and dogs, and Cloud hardly ever went down into the basement (though we put a second litterbox down there for her, she never used it).  Maybe it smelled too strongly of the previous pets?  Not sure.  She would come down once in a while, particularly if my wife (the house's usual denizen, and Cloud's favourite) was out or in the shower or something.

She was also not a lap cat to speak of; my wife was able to get her to sit on her lap for short intervals after patient training, but she would jump off if you so much as twitched.  I could pick her up and cuddle her, and we'd rub faces, but she didn't want that for too long either.  She was always a little standoffish with our kids.  Our oldest, who loves cats to bits, had a bedroom in the basement, which didn't help.  (I gather that cats will generally attach themselves to the dominant adult in the house...I remember being similarly frustrated with being neglected by the cat I grew up with.)

She was also not a fussy eater at all--we went through several kinds of canned food (which we gave her once a day, on our vet's recommendation) and she didn't have a problem with any of them (though she had some trouble with the "flaked", as opposed to "paté", kind).  Her outside life seemed to give her lots of exercise, as the vet was always commenting on her good muscle tone.  After eight years or so we moved to the "senior" dry cat food (which was harder to find, but we got big bags), which she also didn't have a problem with.  And she was the kind of cat where we could just leave the bag sitting on the floor, top wide open, and never once did it occur to her to knock it over to steal extra food.

She was also not a very good mouser--we've had a few over the years, and once I saw her ineffectually try to bat at one that was running up the stairs.  Sometimes she would sit near a cupboard and watch it intently for a few minutes, and maybe there was a mouse there at the time, but she'd always wander off before too long.  We never could get interested in chasing the red dot; when we played with her, we'd try to drag string on the floor, or perhaps wave it through the air, and sometimes she'd pounce and sometimes she'd just watch it inscrutably.

Her most annoying habit was probably that of jumping from the floor onto our headboard, via the corner of the bed or my bedside table.  This was her way of waking us up in the morning to be let out, or perhaps to be fed.  If it was too early, then we'd sometimes must shut her out of the bedroom, whereupon she would sometimes manifest her other annoying habit of clawing at the carpet.  (There is a noticeable trough in the carpet right in front of our bedroom door.)  But mostly, as I say, she was content to just wait for us to notice that there was a problem.  She also was not a licky cat like some--she tended to bite my fingers, the legacy of some improper conditioning from fingerplay as a kitten, probably.

#

This year we'd made plans to go up to northern Alberta to visit my mother on the Victoria Day long weekend (May 22nd, this year).  As the time drew nearer, it became to seem less likely we'd do it, because the wildfire season had started off with a bang early in May, and there were some nasty ones near Highway 43...which led to the evacuation of not one but two of the towns that were regular stops on our trips up Highway 43.  So we cancelled.

And this was probably a good thing, because Cloud had stopped eating and was acting listless.

My wife and my oldest son took her to the emergency vet clinic on the Sunday, and they diagnosed her with Stage 4 kidney failure.  But they gave us some medicine--some appetite stimulants, some anti-nausea, and supplies for injecting her with water subcutaneously, as well as special food that was supposed to be easier on her kidneys.  She visited the litterbox a lot more frequently, and started peeing other places as well, and not cleaning herself off as well so she smelled and left stains on the places where she was sitting.

A visit to our regular vet invited the possibility that it might just be acute kidney problems caused by an infection, and we got some antibiotics.  We tried a number of things over the next few weeks (and racked up over a thousand dollars in vet bills), but apart from a couple of days where she ate desultorily, she hasn't been improving.

The horrible thing is that I believe I know what happened.  We'd recently switched grocery stores (as the nearest one to us just closed down) to the nearest Superstore...and when we were there the day before Mother's Day, they offered us a deal on "Mother's Day flowers" on our way out, and we decided to get them, possibly under some pressure at the checkout to make up our minds and stop holding up the line.  Now, we're not really plant people--we rarely have plants in our house, and if we do they're just picked flowers.  I don't really know what was in that flowerpot...but I have the horrible suspicion that one of them might have been some variety of Lillium or something that is extremely toxic to cats.  We may have poisoned her with some stupid flowers that we didn't even really care about.

Today she was scheduled for her last vet visit, the one she didn’t come home from.  I saw her briefly this morning, gave her a few pets, and that was the last time.

On social media I see plenty of posts about people devastated over the loss of their loyal pets.  And I tend to think to myself, "That's not me."  I am not going to be devastated at the loss of Cloud, as I was not at the loss of Felicity before her.  I'm already thinking about things like, "Well, we should remember to empty out the litterbox, and tape up the food packages.  Maybe donate them somewhere because we probably won't be getting a senior cat again right away.  Clean out the cat food dishes."  Etc.  Sounds pretty cold-blooded.  It's like...I just can't make those kinds of deep bonds with pets, for some reason.  Maybe I'm just dead inside, who knows.  I mean, it's not like I cried a lot over any of the grandparents that I've lost, either.  So, dead inside, probably.  (Which is why I'm posting this on tumblr instead of, say, Facebook.)

I don't know how my oldest son is going to handle it, honestly.  He has been a trooper in dealing with the injections and pills and stuff over the last few weeks, and he was the one who officially announced the euthanasia choice last night, but I know that every time he comes up the stairs he's always saying "Where's the kitty?" and I worry about what he's going to do now.  (He seems to be doing okay at the moment.  Starting a Murderbot reread.)

We'll probably end up getting another cat.  Not sure how long.  When we adopted Cloud we hadn't really made up our minds to get another one, and I don't recall offhand how long it had been since Felicity's passing.  Maybe it will come down to chance again, or maybe we'll decide at some point, "It's been a year, we're ready."  Or something.  Who knows.  Our next cat will likely be different, and meow at us to be fed at 5:00 in the morning, and be an inside cat, and maybe curl up on our laps or lick our hands.  Maybe they'll go down to the basement, maybe they'll catch mice or play with balls of yarn.  Who knows.

Until then, my brain will probably attempt to construe random sensory information as "oh, that's just the cat" and then I'll have to remember, no, it's not the cat.  Because brains leap to conclusions all the time.  Nothing supernatural about it.

[darkkakyuu]

Itachi is more than happy to give in to Marie’s demands and scoop her into his arms, smiling when she licks his nose while he rubs under her chin. “How did you sleep last night, my chubby queen? I’m sure you were well protected by that horrid sister of yours.”

Duchess hisses at the Desmond as if she understands what he just said before turning towards you to allow her harness to be put on since she’s excited to go outside for a walk.

“I’m fine, sorry for taking off like that.” Smiling a bit shyly he clears his throat then turns his attention back to Marie in order to distract himself. “So the cats enjoy going on walks, huh? That’s interesting, all the cats I’ve met are mostly indoor pets.”

"They love it. Well Duchess likes to walk on leash, Marie prefers to sunbathe in the stroller." I roll my eyes at Marie whe she tries to climb up to Itachi’s shoulders to her away from her harness. "Now you come here, brat. Don't act brand new just because he's here."

I have him bend down slightly so that I could reach her and strap her into her harness. "You love going out on walks Marie." I pick her and her sister up and place them in the cat stroller. A random thought went through my head as I turn back towards Itachi.

"Can people see you? I know I'm supposed to be able to see you because you're apparently my guardian angel, but can others see you too?" I was genuinely curious as I pushed my girls outside, Duchess already poking her head out to gaze at the birds while Marie lays out waiting for the sun.