#he is always so good at looking like a sad wet kitten born all alone in a cardboard box on the side of the road. in the rain.

[willosword]

and now, some sad memorial marks:

[bungeegumsurprise]

(Headcanon) Super Fluff!: Benimaru, Obi, Hinawa, Karim x Reader As a Cat

What your life as a cat would be like if your owner was Benimaru, Obi, Hinawa, or Karim.

Original Request:

A/N: I made this as fluffy as I could XD Reader is a different kitten for each one. :)

Benimaru

How you met:

-He was sitting out on the patio in the backyard of the guardhouse, taking a break from filling out boring paperwork while snacking on some fresh mochi.

-He was about to take another bite when he heard something rustling in the bushes and paused to look over towards the tall wooden fence.

-He could hear something faintly meowing, as he leaned forward and squinted his eyes. 

-You had wandered in from your owner’s yard, which happened to be home to the same grandma that had made him the mochi.

-That’s when he saw a small fluffy ball of half-light grey and half white fur, crawl out from underneath the bushes. 

-When he called her over to take you back home, she said that her son had recently gotten you after getting married, but it turned out his wife was allergic to cats and had no choice but to look for a new owner.

-The grandma said she was simply too old and frail to take care of a cat, and had insisted that Benimaru was somehow destined to be the one to take care of you. 

Random Facts:

-At first, he liked being left alone in peace and quiet when duty wasn’t calling him, and actually wasn’t too keen on keeping something that would keep nagging in his ear for attention.

-But to his surprise, you were actually a good nap buddy.

-Whenever he would lie down to get some shut eye, you would quietly circle around your spot once, before curling into a ball and cuddling up against his side or climbing onto his chest, sometimes letting out the occasional yawn before you closed your eyes and drifted off together.

-He also thinks it’s cute how you stretch out your arms and limbs after waking up, and he’ll actually ask you if you had a good nap.

-If you did: You’d meow, and he’ll pat your fur from the middle of your forehead down to your tail.

-If you didn’t: You’d let out another yawn, and he’ll tell you to go back to sleep with him.

-Both of you like it when he lets you crawl into his haori, riding shotgun to wherever he has to go next (that is kitten safe of course).

-You guys played hide-n-seek once and he got worried when he turned the entire guardhouse upside down and still couldn’t find you.

-You actually fell asleep in the laundry basket when Konro found you.

-That’s how you ended up with a little golden bell dangling from the middle of your light blue collar.

-He thinks that dried cat food is like eating dried rabbit poop (idk how he knows this), and that wet cat food smells like spoiled fish.

-So he has Konro make your daily meals with only the freshest and healthiest ingredients for his, “little princess.” (He named you “princess” but only adds the ‘little,’ when you’re both alone, because everyone else would guarantee not to let him hear the end of it if they did.)

-He likes feeding you the juicy and sweet strawberries from the center of his daifuku, to which you happily oblige.

-He likes staring at you while playing with your ears. 

Obi

How you met:

-Despite how he looked, he was more of a cat person.

-He was at the local pet store to pick up more food for his pet goldfish when he saw you speeding around the other cats in a game of tag, in the little playpen the store’s owner had set up near the entrance.

-He liked how this adorable creamsicle-furred kitten was so carefree and happily playing around with its friends.

-You were like the little ball of energy he needed in his mundane bachelor life. 

Random Facts:

-He likes how your brightly colored fur looks even more orange in the sunlight.

-He got you an orange colored collar to match the color of your fur and the fact that you liked the smell of oranges.

-You like it when he feeds you wedges of sweet tangerines from time to time.

-He named you “mittens” because of your fluffy white paws.

-You like sitting on his stomach or on top of the barbell when he’s working out.

-He got you your very own cat wheel so you work out with him.

-He always buys you the newest cat toys.

-You like riding on top of the Roomba when it’s vacuum day.

-You like it when he takes you to work with him because Shinra and Maki are the only ones besides Obi, that can keep up and play with you until it’s time to go home.

-You like bathing in the sunlight while he’s out on the front yard or at the beach, trying to get his tan on.

-He’s actually pretty good at skateboarding, and you like riding between his feet on the board.

-He’s trying to get you to ride with him on a surfboard, but you don’t see that happening any time soon.

-You earned the nickname “speed racer,” from the time you were running around the office and zoomed across all the desks, sending the paperwork flying all over the place.

-Both of you like it when you’re both at home sitting on the sofa and he puts on a good action movie.

-Both of you agree that the “Rush Hour” movie series, are your favorite movies to watch over and over again.

Hinawa

How you met:

-Your previous owners had turned infernals and sadly died when company seven was the ones to put them to rest.

-Hinawa rescued you from your burning home.

-You were feeling scared, lonely, and sad as Hinawa carried you out; and the way you looked up at him with your big round eyes, he couldn’t bear to give you up to the local animal shelter. 

Random Facts:

-He named you “angel” because of the disaster you miraculously survived, and because of your pure white fur.

-Hinawa lets you pick your collar for the day, between either the white or pink one, both with a small metal heart hanging from the middle.

-He was patient with letting you adjust to him and your new home.

-He actually took a week off from work to spend time with you.

-You loved the smell of the delicious food he would cook both at home and at work, and had your own designated space on the counter so you could watch.

-He would place your homemade cat-friendly food in the pretty dishes he had bought for you.

-He would always say that, “taste is half the battle, the other half is presentation.”

-You like crawling under his hats and walking around with them.

-You like crawling around his paperwork and keyboard when he looks like he could use a break.

-He sighed at first, but found it cute how you walked into the stamp pad filled with black ink, and left your paw prints all over the place.

-He likes uploading photos onto the company website, of just you, or with small random objects on your head.

-Both of you like it when you nap on his lap while he’s reading manga at home or at a manga café that allows pets.

-If they don’t, he’ll try to sneak in with you under his hat, claiming it’s a hat that happens to look like a cat is sleeping under it.

Karim

How you met:

-His neighbor’s cat had given birth, and he went there with the intention of only dropping off some blankets he no longer needed.

-He kneeled down to spread them out onto the ground, when a new born kitten with fur that looked like a caramel mocha latte, shakily crawled towards him with its eyes still closed.

-“Aww, I think she likes you.” Karim wasn’t the best with animals, completely disagreeing with the owner’s statement; when you decided to crawl onto his lap, and meowed so preciously.

-He sat like an ice sculpture not knowing what to do, when the owner scooped you up in her hands and showed Karim how to hold you.

-When you licked his face and purred as he held you, he was in kitty love. 

Random Facts:

-He took FOREVER trying to come up with your name.

-The old man that was in charge of engraving a pet’s name on their collar at the pet store, said it was confusing if Karim kept repeating the same name on the collar, and because 20 letters would no way fit.

-He finally settled on “brownie,” because of the color of your furred patches.

-He bought you a grayish-blue collar because it matched the color of his hair, and added a little sparkly star accessory to your collar.

-He asked the veterinarian almost a 100 questions because he had no idea of how to take care of a cat.

-He isn’t as nervous as a wreck as he was before with taking care of you.

-After a few years, you were just the right size to crawl from one of his shoulders to the other, and settled on sitting on his head.

-He could watch you run around his room all day.

-Both of you like it when he lets you lie down on his pillow, as you curl into the crook of his neck, and he turns on some soft music for you.

-Though he can’t feed you chocolate like your namesake, he’ll feed you frozen berries and thinks it’s cute how some of the juice from the berries got on parts of your white fur; making you look like a “berried kitty berry.”

-Captain Burns has a big soft spot for you, and likes to play with you when he should be working.

[lululawrence]

Hi, i know that not many people like it but.. i really like the fics like enemies to lovers, something with bullying and ect. I just enjoy sad stuff that as time goes on it gets better. Like with the bullying, one is bullied, the other saves the day. Enemies to lovers, they hurt each other at first but then they heal the wounds. Lol this was long. I'm asking for those kind of fics.. if you don't want to answer i completely understand! Have a great day!

oh darling. listen. you are NOT alone. you are not. i love these fics and so does @londonfoginacup! i sent a screenshot of this ask to a gc when you first sent it talking about how i felt bad i wasn’t able to answer it right away, and emmu immediately said she could help. i didn’t look up anything myself from this rec, these are all ones emmu sent and outside of the...three maybe?...that i haven’t read, i cosign it! she even found some i read when i first joined the fandom and didn’t have an ao3 to save them to OR i had an ao3 and didn’t understand bookmarks yet. so basically, thank you for sending this, and here are the fics emmu recs and i say AMEN! i hope there’s some in here that are what you’re looking for that possibly you haven’t read yet.

they are kind of divided by enemies to lovers that ease into bullying fics as you go down the list, but to be honest i’m just sending them to you in the order that emmu sent them to me haha enjoy!!

Through a Mirror Dimly by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry

Louis Tomlinson, in his third year at university, does not expect nor want the roommate that is being assigned to his room.

Harry Styles, in his first year at university, has just been kicked out of one dorm and doesn't want to deal with yet another snobby, rich roommate.

They don't get along, and that's just how it is, until circumstances force them to reevaluate.

Driving On The Wrong Side, Thinking Of You by @dinosaursmate / dinosaursmate

“Marcel, darling, why don’t you take Louis to your room and play on your computer?”

Louis’ heart sunk. He would defend Marcel from an infinite amount of gay jokes but it didn’t mean he wanted to spend time with him. They didn’t exactly have anything in common.

“Um, okay,” Marcel said, sounding as reluctant as Louis and slightly miserable.

“If- if you want to.”

“Sure.”---Louis is the most popular guy in sixth form. Don't get the wrong idea, he's a good guy, and he absolutely won't stand for his friends teasing his neighbour, Marcel.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by @100percentsassy and @gloriaandrews / 100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

feel so foolish by @juliusschmidt / juliusschmidt

Louis and his friends keep laughing at Harry; he's sure of it. But he's not sure why.

Pour Your Heart Out by @hrrytomlinson / hrrytomlinson

Louis is his soulmate. Or at least Harry thinks he is. Louis feels the same as Louis. But there are a lot of people named Louis in the world and this Louis might not be the Louis. It’s besides the point though, because Harry knows he can’t allow himself to get close to any boys. He just can’t and he’s told himself this multiple times. He has to simply stay away from Louis Tomlinson. But he can’t. Harry Styles can never stay away from Louis Tomlinson. It’s physically impossible for him to.

Love Is a Kitten from Hell by youbeyou

Louis Tomlinson passes himself off as an arrogant prick at his new school to hide the fact that he's terrified of being bullied again. Just when he's getting tired of putting up walls, he finds himself in a local pet shop where he finds a sanctuary playing with the kittens in the front window.

Harry Styles is the popular football player who works at the pet shop, secretly watching the boy he thought was utterly unlikable prove him wrong.

Partnered together for a class project, Harry gets more and more hints that Louis is actually someone worth getting to know. But the real question is, will Louis let Harry in?

Loner or Lover? by @oops-lt / Vanniebean

An AU in which Harry is a junior who just moved to Doncaster and on his first day of school he makes the schools most popular and loved boy spill coffee on himself. Harry planned on going through high school under the radar, but that quickly changes when he bumps into Louis. Harry gets known to everyone else as the annoying kid who was "rude" to Louis, but to Louis himself, he's stuck on one question. Should he leave the boy as a loner, or become his lover?

Love is like this; not a heartbeat, but a moan by @angelichl /angelichl

"He hates this, more than anything in the world he hates this. His title, his rank, his DNA. Unchangeable. Fated.

And then there’s Harry, born to be unobjectively superior to Louis and all other O’s. Unlike other A’s, Harry doesn’t wear his alpha-ness very well. He’s clumsy with it, like walking around in a pair of shoes a size too big. His life is defined by uncertainty and tentativeness, and those are definitely not qualities alphas should have.

Sometimes, when Louis ponders it for too long, he thinks that maybe Harry resents being an A just as much as Louis resents being an O."

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen. Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

Make It Work by fanshae

Prompt: Arranged marriage AU. Harry is an omega who has reached the age where he must be married due to his family's income status. Only the aristocratic omegas are exempt. His parents try to hide him but eventually the government gets word and in punishment, gives the omega to a spoiled aristocrat son of a lord, Louis. Louis is more than thrilled to have his own omega and once Harry goes into heat, he explores the boy with fascination and unintentionally impregnates him. This leads to a boy used to living carefree and drinking the day away with other nobles to having to face fatherhood.

Be with me so happily by @briannamarguerite / BriaMaria

Harry Styles may have had his doubts at first, but by the time the gates to the elephant sanctuary came into view he was one hundred percent positive. Louis Tomlinson hated his guts. Like hated, hated. Like loathed-him-on-sight hated.

From what Harry could tell, he hadn’t even done anything close to insulting enough to warrant the disdain that was Louis Tomlinson’s default expression whenever he looked at Harry. It really wasn’t fair. Especially since he’d been lusting after the man from the second he’d laid eyes on that pretty, pretty face with those pretty, pretty eyes.

Or ... the one where Harry Styles has a bad reputation and a heart of gold, and Louis Tomlinson wishes he wasn't so enchanted by boys who looked like Disney characters and wore shirts with bumble bees on them.

[aka Louis is the director of the Styles Elephant Sanctuary and really doesn't want to babysit his funder's spoiled lay-about son for two months]

say i hate you but i always stay by @liltinylouis / clicheanna

It was a nice thought, and he must have dozed off to it, because the next thing he was aware of was wet and cold.

Harry shot up in the bed. His hair was dripping, soaked curls hanging in front of his eyes. Droplets of water ran down his bare chest. The sheets and blanket were damp.

Louis stood next to the bed with a smug grin. In one hand he was holding an empty glass.

About thirty minutes later, Harry was parked outside the football pitch. Louis climbed out of the car, duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

He waved at Harry and blew him a kiss as he walked away. Harry flipped him off.

Or the one where Harry hates Louis, he's almost sure Louis hates him, and they live together. Driving him to football practice everyday is not apart of Harry's plans, but Louis is pretty adamant if it means annoying Harry.

don’t believe me just watch by ariadne_odair

The thing is, Louis knows Harry’s name. Harry knows he does. Harry corrects him every time. Repeatedly. Politely. Slightly hysterically that time he’d walked in on Louis sucking a boy off in the toilets.

Uni AU were Harry strongly dislikes the footie captain that calls him Henry no matter how many times Harry corrects him and is unfairly gorgeous. Friends meet friends and somehow they end up alone at Niall's New Years Eve party. Louis says things he wouldn't sober. And do things.

Violets and Paper Airplanes by b0yfriendsinl0ve

Harry likes Louis very much a lot and Louis’ a bit of an arsehole.

Leave Your Mark On Me by @fullonlarrie / FullOnLarrie

When Chef Harry Styles’ unbonded Omega designation threatens to derail his career, he does the only thing he can, and goes in search of a black market bond.

just you wait and see by Orphan Account

In which Harry mistakes Louis' flirting as an attempt to steal his job.

a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) by @mediawhorefics / MediaWhore

“He was flirting with you by the way,” Niall says casually once he’s finished saying goodbye to Louis and he’s joined Harry outside.

“No he wasn’t,” Harry replies automatically, feeling his heart clench at the thought. Was he?

Niall simply raises a mocking eyebrow in response before wrapping his scarf twice around his neck.

“Not that it matters!” Harry says quickly, eyes widening. “I wouldn’t care even if he did because he’s awful and the worst.”

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.

[beaflower77]

Lottie Leben

Everything looked gray. The stalls were gray, the streets were gray. The tiny houses dotting the landscape looked gray. Tiny gray puddles filled the dirty streets and the sky didn’t seem any happier with streams of gray clouds loitering above. They walked the streets looking, peering in one stall after another. Nothing new they saw, needed or wanted.

Passing by one stall, a lighter shade of gray, and almost getting out of range, “My lords!,” he called out. “Soap! Soap for your lovely wives! Your mistresses?” His hands shot out toward them, he smiled as if he knew, jesting. “Ribbons! Trinkets!,” he advertised, trying to strike a deal. They stopped, said nothing, wandered over to inspect, pick up, sniffed the bars of soap. They weren’t that impressive of soaps. “No finer soap my Lords. Made from the fat of exotic beasts of the wild, infused with bluebell flowers and other tiny fragrances.” His eyes blinked as he said it. The bars were gray blue, made from barilla and marsh plants, boiled down in cast iron pots. Theirs’ were made from olive oil instead. Still, these were fluffy to the touch.

While Elrohir listened to the stall keepers’ nonsense, Elladan noticed a tiny waif of a child sitting on a rickety stool, keeping to herself. Her knees bent up and enveloped inside her arms, trying to keep warm from the impending weather. And sniffling occasionally, blowing her nose on a hankie. Walking round the stall, bending, kneeling before her, “What is the matter child?,” asked Elladan, searching her face out, for something touched at his heart. “Why are you crying?” So pretty, the child thought, mesmerized she stopped all sniveling at once. So pretty was Elladan, so handsome, so engaging, the child would have taken hold round his neck, told him anything, let alone jumped, smiled, spun round and danced for his delight alone. Instead, “My mama is gone.,” she whispered secretely. Elladan watched her. He whispered back, he pressed, “Where did she go?”  “She died.,” the little babe replied. His breath stopped. Her sorrow, Elladan saw beneath her dirty blonde hair and understood that sorrow. His mother too was gone, and did not seem to be returning anytime soon. 

And then he noticed a sack on the ground by the girls feet. “Why is that sack wiggling my sweet?,” he questioned. The girl’s features lit up a tiny bit. He called me My Sweet, she imagined in her head, but, “We have to throw it in the river.,” the girl sadly, but plainly replied, for she accepted her father’s fact. “Throw, what?,” continued Elladan, although he already had an inkling what it might be. “It cannot see.,” she continued. “Its’ eyeballs don’t work right anymore.”  A drop of anger rose up inside, not even knowing what couldn’t see.

Glancing up at Elrohir, watching the man at the stall, Elladan untied, pulled out the blind object, wanting to see for himself. Inspecting closer, looking cleverly at the little girl, Elladan gave a secretive smile, whispering again, “Would you like me to take this little creature for you?,” he begged. “I will keep it safe. I will take it where no harm shall come to it. Ever. It will grow sturdy and fat and become strong. Even if it cannot see.,” and he waited her permission. Lottie smiled, “Yes.”

Again her eyes lit up, becoming saucers. Smiling, the little waif wanted desperately to put her arms round Elladan’s neck, but something held her back. Her father. The man looked down upon them both. It wasn’t he was angry, or sad, just empty.  “Unfortunately that cat will never survive Master Elf.,” he said to Elladan. “It was born that way. It will do no good to keep it. I’ve already told Lottie and she accepts its’ fate. That is the fate of us in the world sometimes. Not everything or everyone is kind to you.” Standing, looking from the little girl, to the kitten, addressing the man, “If you do not want it, you will not object me keeping it. I will take it off your hands. You will not have any responsibility for it and I will never concern you over it. Ever.”  Lottie knew elves kept their word. She heard so from her mother once, but she couldn’t remember when. She wanted the little kitty to become fattened and live. She thought of all the good, tasty foods it would eat. And inside she purred. She had already given it a name in secret. 

“Now.,” gave Elladan. “Where is the child’s mother?” He wanted to know. Elladan wanted to see what the stall keeper would answer, and he wanted to be prepared for what he would do, given the correct answer, one which he wanted desperately to hear. Elrohir watching his brother, wondered himself what Elladan was playing at. And why. And just what were they to do with a blind cat themselves? Elrohir breathed in deeply, gave an unseen grimace.

Looking at Elladan, then at Lottie, and back again, “This is not my child, my Lord.,” the stall keeper told him. “Lottie was my wife’s child. My wife died last month.” Elladan and Elrohir both watched for any signs of a lie, or tall tale.” “After my wife died, we have been traveling from market square to market square trying to maintain a living. But it is very hard my Lord to feed not only myself, but the child as well. It is not, an easy living.” He added, “And we cannot keep an animal that will not be productive.” Lottie had fed the kitten some of her food in secret. That is all Elladan needed to hear. And accept. And his mind spun with all types of riddles, reasons and thoughts. Customers pulled the man away from the elves’ attentiveness. 

“What are you thinking brother?,” Elrohir asked, prodding Elladan a ways off out of earshot. They walked a few feet away from the stall. Elrohir put a hand on Elladan’s tunic, stopping him from wandering further. The girl watched her little blind kitten being taken away by the tall, pretty, sweet elf. And she wished upon an invisible star. What did she wish for? Was it the same as the elf? She watched him intently. Wanting to run after her elf, instead she stayed still and watched the blind kitten slumbering, pawing against Elladan’s chest. Would her baby kitty live? Would he want to know its’ name?

Taking a long, deep breath, he considered. “I am thinking.,” Elladan replied. “I am thinking, this child does not belong to this man. Not really.” Elrohir shocked his brother had this thought, waited, puzzled. Elladan considered his next thought carefully. “She would be better...,” and he couldn’t continue his thought, not just yet. Elrohir looked strangely at his brother. “Elladan, surely she must have some other relative or relation some where? What are you proposing to do? Take her away? And what are we to do with this?,” he indicated to the sleeping kitten. “She has no one Elrohir. I fear if this man would be so callous to throw a blind creature into water and let it drown, what would stop him from letting her starve to death?” And the two continued their dialogue, Elrohir not exactly as convinced as his brother. However, Elrohir loved Elladan.

“Then it is settled? That is what we will do?,” Elrohir asked his brother, though he already knew Elladan’s mind. “It is settled. Let us now see what this man will say to it all.” And they once more stepped up to the gray stall. Lottie remained on her stool, her feet minutely touching the dirty, puddled ground, and pulled her fingers through her hair to fix it for Elladan, her elf she believed. Twirling it round and round, Lottie pulled each knotted strand apart.

How young these little women were when they become so vain, they fixate on themselves, Elrohir wondered. And why not he continued. Do we not teach our elflings to comb and keep tidy? Well, he considered, except for Faelor and Galearon that is. Elrohir looked down upon Lottie and smiled shyly, wondering what she would make of it. And they introduced their wants of Lottie’s sudden adoption to the stall keeper.

“My Lords.,” the stall keeper said evenly. “How could I even do such a thing?” He was bewildered. On the one hand, his problems, his difficulties would semi be over. No more would he have to scrounge and procure food for the both of them. Only himself. No guilt there, if he was still hungry. A roof over her head, especially on cold and wet nights? It was not always easy. Buying cloths to sew clothes for her as she grew? He was not so dexterous with that. So little money he made. His finger often grew numb. Could he find himself succumbing to those reasonings? However, on the other hand, could he do such a thing? Give up, give away. Yes, Lottie was not his child, not really, he had no obligation to her. And she would have a better life he believed. He looked at the elves. And considered.

“She has no other relation you said.,” Elladan pressed. “Yes, but.,” he replied, feeling slightly caught. “You could see her whenever you wished. We would not keep her from you. Only provide her with better accommodation.,” Elrohir put in. Lottie listened, she listened intently. She didn’t understand, but yet she did. “Lottie.,” her father said. “I love you, I do, but I cannot always adequately provide for you. Or myself. We have so little to eat, you and I. So little income.” The stall keeper looked down upon this little creature. He considered. She considered. The kitten slept on. Elladan was dead set. Elrohir, well, he would follow his brother. 

Reaching down, grabbing hold and lifting up, “No. No my Lords.,” the stall keeper gave the elves. “Lottie is my responsibility and I will provide for her as best I can.” And he added, “You may see her as you like. I am sure she would enjoy that.,” and he bounced her on his hip, smiling at Lottie. Elladan’s chest tightened, there was something about this little one his heart clung to. He touched Lottie’s check. “Farewell little Lottie. I will take care of this sprite of a cat. Do not fear for it”, he smiled with not only his mouth, but his eyes as well, as he lifted the blind, gray tiger up. “He will live well.” Turning to the father, “I will visit Lottie, whenever I can. We will look for you both in the towns.” He and Elrohir nodded off to the two and left.

Elladan and Elrohir did visit with Lottie and her father. They saw them often. They told her stories of the elves, traded trinkets and goods, kept them well stocked with food after having found a small, livable, bright hovel of a house for them. And when Lottie grew older and fell in love with the miller’s son, well, Elladan knew she would still be well taken care of and not want. And still he visited. Still to Lottie’s delight.

But what did become of the little blind, gray tabby?

[kayrockerqog]

Somehow, Cats Were Involved: Giripan Oneshot

Meeting your soulmate. Something every person on Earth has been dying to do ever since they were born. It is said that you will be given small snippets of information about how you will meet throughout your life, random pieces of information that don't even make sense for the time being.

The concept of meeting your soulmate was an interesting one, well, interesting being an understatement, at least to Kiku. He would watch in silence from across the way as his fellow nations revealed in the little details they were given on how they would finally know who their soulmates were.

Alfred always went on and on about being extremely tense and anxious to merely walk through the automatic doors of a Walmart during Christmas season, because he has no clue when he'll be hit in the face with a carton of chocolate milk.

Arthur knew his encounter was going to happen next to a famous landmark, although unaware of which one, and that it also involved light snow and a purple rose. Francis had a similar one, only he knew his soulmate would appear next to his landmark, The Eiffel Tower in Paris, and that his soulmate had blonde hair. The fact that they didn't realize it was unnerving to Kiku, to say the least. He always thought they would hook up.

Feliciano and Ludwig had figured theirs out quite recently. He had been there to witness his best friends realize their connection, while they took a trip to one of the various beaches in Southern Italy after a marathon. Ludwig had been nervous because he would be meeting his soulmate in his swimsuit in Italy, and Feliciano would meet his while he was nearly drowning in the Mediterranean Sea. Needless to say, both sides were pleasantly surprised at the outcome.

But the most 'interesting' case was his own. Kiku didn't know much about his encounter, despite being alive for so long. All he knew about his, was that it would be in the snow and that somehow, cats were involved.

Little did he realize, that this could happen at any time. Snow wasn't uncommon in most of the places he could be found, minus most of Italy and parts of Greece, and he always spotted a cat one way or another wherever he went. He adored their independent and intelligent facades, the fluffiness of their fur against his pale olive skin, and the sarcastically lazy yet loving look in their wide eyes. Cats were a comfort, and he wasn't the only one who thought so.

The introverted nation spent the early December morning strolling through a small village in Northern Greece, watching the bright blue sky covered in powder blue clouds scrape the horizon as the sun rose. He watched his breath become visible, in a transparent white cloud from beneath his scarf in the chilled morning air. Despite the minor goosebumps, he was content.

Suddenly, the peaceful sky began to turn sour, the puffy clouds slowly turning dark and dull, more and more hiding the sky as little specs of white fell to the ground. 'Oh, it's snowing,' Kiku thought to himself, his face melting back to its neutral expression, as he contemplated the same idea he always had, was this it?

His pace started to quicken, as did the downpour of snowflakes colliding with the cracked stone back-road he walked on. He approached a nearby alleyway, next to a local coffee shop that seemed to be just opening for business. Kiku noted the paper sign sporting the words 'Now Open, Welcome!' in both English and Greek, and proceeded to walk in.

It was a quaint little shop, a few early morning customers gathered at small toffee-colored tables with dark oak chairs, framed pictures of sunsets and ocean views laid against the walls, and the counter up front was very welcoming, with their operators constantly smiling and spreading extra warmth around the room.

The short nation lowered his scarf from his face to his neck, exposing his glowing pink cheeks to the light. He took a quick breath, his thinner frame quivering a bit from the sudden chill he received. Kiku spotted an empty seat at the counter-top, and he calmly took it, eyeing the menu curiously. "Good morning, sir. May I help you?" A young woman approached him from the other side, her voice producing a slight Greek lisp as she spoke in her native tongue.

Kiku raised his head slightly, a light blush of embarrassment poking at his face as he replied to his best abilities in the language. "My apologies, I don't know much Greek." The woman smiled at him, her lightly tanned skin glowing in the ceiling light, "That's quite alright, do you speak English?" Kiku smiled, and nodded, "Much better, yes. Thank you."

"Not a problem, sir. May I get you anything?" "Yes, is a plain green tea alright?" "Of course! Coming up soon." He watched his server prance back into the kitchen, possibly to start a new batch, and he was left alone with his thoughts. 'Everything seems to be going smoothly. Perhaps this isn't the time . . .' However, he was just proven wrong.

The front door suddenly crashed open behind him, a freezing cold wind blowing through the shop and trailing a mess of snow behind it. "I need help!" A straining voice called from the door, their footsteps heavy and squishing against the floor from the snow on their boots. Kiku recognized the phrase, and coincidentally, the voice, despite the volume and the hurt it possessed.

He turned in his seat, his back facing the counter as he met the eyes of his fellow nation. His wet, wavy brown hair was spread all over the place, white specks covering it all over. His bright green eyes were trembling with worry, their soft and typically docile glint switching to the exact opposite. Kiku didn't know why, until his saw what Heracles was carrying.

Lying unconscious in his arms, shivering helplessly from the cold, was a tiny grey kitten. Its leg was bleeding and its breathing was shabby at best. Several staff members burst through the back doors, one of them carrying a medical kit, as if they knew what was happening. "What happened this time?" an older man asked the elder nation, who carefully removed the kitten from his arms and laid him on a table. "She was attacked by a wild dog, poor thing."

Heracles' voice was hurting, he rarely ever spoke this loud, and needless to say it peaked Kiku's interest. He left his seat, approaching his comrade from behind as he watched the patrons tend to the poor creature. "I'm sure she'll be just fine, Hera-kun." For a moment, the nation of Greece was stunned, but he turned to see his Eastern friend and gave him a sad and partially confused smile, "I do hope so, hello Kiku."

The tiny Asian returned the gesture, placing a hand on Heracles' shoulder while the two of them watched the supposed owner of the shop wrap a bandage around the kitten's fragile leg. "This has happened before?" Kiku asked, his accented voice struggling a bit as he attempted Greek again. Heracles gave him an odd look, before shoving him aside from the crowd.

"What . . . what are you doing?" he demanded, concerned and cringing slightly from the force his fellow nation was using. Heracles gave him a blank look before leaning down to match his gaze. "This may seem like an inappropriate time, especially when an innocent creature is suffering right next to us," he began in English, sending a quick glance back to the table before returning his sights to the raven-haired nation he held against the wall, "But I was told that I would meet my soulmate when they attempted to speak my language in a coffee shop."

They were silent. Kiku could sense Heracles' arm leaning above his head against the wall his back was forced into, and he felt his knees buckling from the revelation. With a stutter, he replied, "Mine was supposed to arrive during a fit of snow . . . and somehow, with cats involved." This time, they both eyed the table impatiently, before the owner straightened back up and searched for the two of them.

"She's awake, sir." The nations shared a quick look of collective relief as they rushed back to the table, eagerly awaiting the kitten's gaze. Kiku saw her first, and he froze immediately. She was laying on her back, her tiny legs flailing playfully in the air as the woman trying to serve him was flinging a toy at her. She mewed quietly, licking the side of her face as she yawned. Carefully, Heracles lifted the small creature back into his arms, staring at it admirably.

"What a brave girl you are. So strong, so beautiful." Kiku gave a half-smile, glad to see they were both happy, but it swiftly wavered as he recollected what just happened. Only nations were allowed to pair with other nations, so with all of this . . . He paused, and evidently, so did Heracles.

The staff left them alone, somehow realizing the newfound tension between the two, and got back to work. Heracles set the kitten down on a table for a moment, and trudged toward Kiku, grabbing his hand and holding it to his chest. The Japanese nation could feel the stinging blush rising to his face as Heracles remained firm. "I fell like there is only one thing we can do now." Kiku nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

They then proceeded to play vigorously with the kitten, later named Tamashī*, until the storm cleared up.  The two nations also admitted their coherent feelings for each other, accepted each other as their soulmates, and later took a huge nap at one of Greece's nearby homes in each other's arms, Tamashī cuddling between them.

**Words: 1648**

*Tamashī --> Soul in Japanese.

[wordsofphandom]

What I Wouldn’t Do - A Phanfiction Part II

At a book signing, Phil, a succesful author of children’s books, meets the five-year-old Dylan and his gorgeous single father Dan. Though they are instantly drawn to each other, certain issues, let alone a lively five-year-old complicate things for Dan and Phil, and they have to find out just what they would - or wouldn’t do, to be together.

parent!phan / fluff/ angst/ singlefather!Dan / children’s author!Phil / Dil Howlter (kind of)

Wordcount: 4.2k Warnings: none

Part II

A week went by, but Phil didn’t hear from Dan and on Sunday, he was beginning to think he never would. Nevertheless, he found himself doing sketches of the same two characters: a white kitten with red and brown patches and a striped tomcat. He drew the kitten playing in autumn leaves, while its father kept a watchful eye on it. He drew them drinking milk from the same bowl and cuddling on a velvet pillow. You didn’t have to be Sigmund Freud to know who he was really drawing. However, Phil never drew himself into the pictures. He had a meeting with his agent on Thursday, and they discussed the possibility of doing a Lion and Lioness Movie. An American major studio was keenly interested in buying the rights, but it was difficult for Phil to sign them away. If they did make a film, Phil would want to be involved, and he knew very little about animation. When he was still thinking of nothing but Dan and Dylan on Friday, Phil decided to drive up north and spend the week-end with his parents. In these cases, distance was always a good idea. He had a wonderful time and when he came back, he was almost ready to forget about the Howells. On Tuesday afternoon, however, his phone rang. And it was Dan calling. Curious, he answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Phil. It’s Dan. Dan Howell, Dylan’s father”. “Of course, I remember you” Phil said, bemused. “Right… uh, listen, do you have any plans on Friday afternoon?” “This Friday?” “Yes” “No, I don’t think so… why d’you ask?” “Because I have a problem, and I’d like to abuse your offer of being Dylan’s friend. My boss scheduled a meeting on Friday from 4 to 5 pm, so I can’t pick up Dylan from school. None of his friends can take him, and I really don’t want to ask Jess… so I thought that maybe you could pick him up and bring him home?” “Yeah, I’d love that” Phil said. “Do you want me to take him to my place or bring him to yours?”. “Our place, I think. Or you could go to the park for a while… It’s going to be very easy, and it’s just for a few hours”. “Sure, don’t worry” Phil said. “Just tell me where and when to pick him up and I’ll be there. Does he have a key for your flat?” “He’s five” retorted Dan. “So, no?” “He’d lose it on the playground, or when he’s running, or something… And anyway, I don’t want to burden him with that responsibility yet”. Phil felt stupid. “Of course” he said; he should have thought of that. “The neighbour has a spare key. He’ll let you in”.

On Wednesday and Thursday, Phil was nervously looking forward to his time with Dylan. The last time he’d spend the day with a five-year old had to be years and years ago, when Phil had been a child himself; unless, of course, you counted last Sunday. So, what were him and Dylan going to do? In preparation, he called his Mum and discussed the matter with her. Also, he bought some picture books and a Children’s-Experiments-Box, as well as a football, because he didn’t know what Dylan was into and he wanted him to have a good time. When Friday had come, he packed all of those things into a big bag and took the Tube to Dylan’s school. Dylan was overjoyed to see him. The first to leave the class room, he ran out of the door and hugged Phil’s legs enthusiastically. “Phil!” he squealed. “Hello, Dylan” Phil laughed and somewhat awkwardly petted his head. “You got your things?”. They collected Dylan’s reading bag and his coat. Phil also made Dylan wear the woolly hat and the scarf, although Dylan insisted that Daddy never cared about that. “I just don’t want you to be cold” Phil explained, but Dylan just shrugged. “I’m never cold” he explained. They left the school and visited Dylan’s favourite play ground on the way home. In the wet and muddy park, Dylan met a few of his school friends and Phil waited with some other mothers at the side. But just as the conversation got too awkward (“Are you Mr Howell’s brother? A friend? His boyfriend?”), Dylan asked Phil to play with him, which Phil gladly did. Dylan loved the new football. He appointed Phil goalie and he and his friends kicked penalty-shots. Only when both Phil and Dylan were thoroughly cold and dirty, did they walk home. Dylan was holding Phil’s hand and skipping along the way, all the time chatting about his school and his friends. When they arrived, they got the keys from the middle aged guy who lived in the flat above Dan and Dylan’s; Dan would be home in an hour.

For homework, Dylan was supposed to read a picture book, so Phil gave him one of the new ones he’d bought and went to prepare supper. He had brought ingredients for both pancakes and Spaghetti Bolognese. “Which do you prefer?” he asked Dylan. The little boy looked up from his book. “Pancakes, please” he said. “May I flip them?”. His question made Phil chuckle. “I have to make the batter, first”. “Okay” Dylan went back to his book. When Dan came home, Phil and Dylan had made a big stack of pancakes, had squeezed some lemons and had set the table for three. “Wow, it smells delicious” Dan commented when he came in. He gave Dylan a kiss on the head. “Did you have a nice time with Phil?”. “Yes!” Dylan shouted. “Look what he got me!” he handed him the picture book. Dan studied it. “That was really kind, Phil” he looked at him “You shouldn’t have”. “It’s nothing, really”. “Still, thank you very much” Dan said. “Dylan, did you say thank you?”. “Thank you, Phil!” Dylan said again. Phil smiled at the both of them. “You’re very welcome” Yet the atmosphere was somewhat awkward. “Shall we eat?”.

After supper, Dan checked whether Dylan had done his homework and invited Phil to stay for a movie. They cuddled up on the sofa – Dylan between the two men – drank hot chocolate and watched Howl’s Moving Castle. During the scary scenes, Dylan alternated between Dan and Phil to hide his face against. After the film was over, it was bed time for Dylan. “Can Phil bring me to bed? Please, Daddy, please” he pleaded, giving both Dan and Phil huge puppy dog eyes. Dan chuckled. “You’ll have to ask Phil. Maybe he’s got plans for tonight”. “May you please stay, Phil?” Dylan said, concentrating his efforts on Phil, whose heart melted a little bit at the sight of the pouting boy. “Yes, I can stay” he promised. As the day had been long and exhausting, Dylan fell asleep quickly. Technically, Phil’s job was done now, but the thought of his empty flat in Islington made him sad. “Would you like a glass of wine?” Dan asked. It was a relief that apparently, Dan didn’t want him to leave, either. “Yes, please” Phil said. So, Dan opened a bottle of red wine and they sat down on the couch again. Casually, Dan swung his legs over Phil’s lap. “Did you have a nice day?” he asked. “Probably the best I’ve had in weeks” Phil admitted. Dan grinned at him. “You’re your own boss, how can you even have bad days?” “True, I never really have bad days… I just rarely have a day as good as this one”. “That’s nice to hear” Dan took a sip from his glass. “I can tell that Dylan had a really good day, too”. Phil beamed. “Next time, though, please don’t buy him stuff” When Dan realized, that Phil’s smile had shrunk a little, he hurried to say “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s so kind of you to give him a present, thank you again, I just wouldn’t want him to get used to it, you know what I mean? He shouldn’t see you as, I don’t know, his fairy godmother”. For a brief moment, Phil pictured himself in a blue cloak with a wand. The idea was funny, but Dan was right. “I get it” he said. “Thank you” Dan said, “that seems to be all I’m saying, today”. “I don’t mind” Phil answered, teasing “You wouldn’t, would you?” Dan grinned, before his expression got a bit more mellow “I’d forgotten how nice it is to come home to someone that isn’t five years old”. “How long has it been?” Phil asked. “Since uni – I used to share a flat with a couple of friends. Well, I did live with Jess for 6 months, after Dylan was born. But that was only aggravating”. “What were you studying?” Dan laughed dryly. “Law” he said curtly. “Wasn’t one of my brightest ideas”. “You didn’t like it?” Phil asked. “I hated it. I mean, Criminal Law was interesting, but Corporate Law was literally killing me. I dropped out when Dylan was born, so I could work full time. But, honestly, that was just an excuse... How about you? Did you go to uni?”. “Yes, I did. I studied English Literature and Linguistics in York. When that was done, I didn’t feel ready to find a proper job, so I did a Master’s degree in Graphic Design here in London”.   Looking amused, Dan shook his head. “What?” Phil wanted to know. “It’s just… Is there anything you’re not great at?” Dan said. “Of course!” Phil exclaimed, his cheeks reddening. “Oh yeah, like what?” Dan counted down on his fingers. “You’re a fantastic story teller, a great artist, an intellectual with two degrees, the best kisser I’ve ever had, you’re good with kids and an overall wonderful person”. Phil’s face was positively burning now. “I’m rubbish at most sports, I don’t play an instrument and if you ever saw me dancing, you’d never think I was perfect again” he said meekly. “Shut up!” Dan laughed. “And for the record; you’re a great kisser, too”. They looked at each other. Dan’s lower lip was dark from the wine; his eyes were sparkling. Never had anybody looked as kissable as Dan looked in this moment. But then, Dan lowered his gaze and the moment was over. To cover up his disappointment, Phil emptied his glass. “More wine?” Dan asked, but Phil shook his head. “The Tube is closing soon… I think I should probably go home”. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Dan said, yawning. Reluctantly, the two of them got to their feet. While Phil was packing his things, Dan was yawning even more, which gave Phil a bad conscience. Of course, Dan was tired; he had had a long day; Phil should have gone home and let him sleep hours ago. “When will I see you again?” Phil asked, before he left. “Don’t know. May I call you again, if I need someone to pick Dylan up from school?” “Yes, of course! Please do!”. Dan smiled. “And may I call you, if I need you to spend time with me, too?” “You absolutely may” Phil said. “Thank you, Phil” Quickly, Dan kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the best”.

The next morning, Phil slept in. He prepared oatmeal and coffee and had breakfast in the living room, watching animes on his TV. At around noon, he went into his study and took another look at the tomcat and kitten pictures he had drawn after he had first met Dylan and Dan. He really liked the characters and fuelled by an intense happiness he felt since yesterday, he drew some proper character studies. The kitten, he decided, should be called Felix; playful, excitable but also somewhat pragmatic. The father he called Maximilian and he changed his fur colour to black, with a white belly, paws and snout. Maximilian shared his son’s pragmatisms, but he was more resigned. Also, he loved his son very much. Characters always came easy to Phil, but the story he wanted to tell was often more difficult to come up with. Were Maximilian and Felix street cats? Did they live with a family? In a shelter? He drew them in various surroundings and scenarios, but nothing really stuck. Phil didn’t mind; it was always useful to try out loads of things until he figured out what he wanted. Just as he put away the sketches, his phone started ringing and instantly, his heart beat picked up. Maybe Dan was calling. But, alas, it was his agent. Hazel had been with him from the very start. When he had finished his first book “The Little Lion” shortly after graduating, he had contacted about half a dozen agents, but only Hazel had been interested. Since then, they had worked on every project together. “Hey Phil” she said. “Have you had any more thoughts about the movie rights?”. “Not really, to be honest” he admitted. “Well, how about that: 20th Century Fox would like to invite you to their headquarters in L.A. to discuss the offer. 3-day trip, all expenses covered, no strings attached. They really, really want to make this film”. “And when do they want to schedule this trip?” Phil asked. “At your earliest convenience” Hazel said and Phil could clearly hear the air quotes she would have made if they were having a face-to-face conversation. “Hmm, do you think I should do it?”. “What, the trip or the movie?” “Both, I guess…” “I’d say do the trip, hear them out, then decide. And if you don’t want to sell the rights, you still got a free trip to L.A.” Phil looked out of the window; the sky was grey and miserable and it was drizzling. “Okay, I’ll do the trip. Do you want to come?” “I’d love to! I’ll check back with them if that’s okay, though… When do you want to go?”. They picked out the weekend before the first Advent, so that the trip was to be in three weeks. In the remaining weeks, Dan kept his promise and asked Phil to pick up Dylan from school twice. Both times, Phil and Dylan had a wonderful time, but because it was always on a school night, Phil never got to stay as long as he did the first time. Sadly, he saw very little of Dan – he usually left right after Dan came home, and Dan had yet to ask him to spend time with him, like he had said he would. It was the day before he was to fly to L.A. when it finally happened. Phil had spent the afternoon packing his suitcase and looking forward to sunny Californian weather, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Dan:

jess is taking dyl home tonight and i’m worried crazy distract me

Without hesitation, Phil picked out a video he had saved and send it to Dan; a compilation of baby animals doing cute stuff. The video lasted ten minutes; enough time for Phil to find his trunks and his goggles. He reckoned it would not be extremely hot in California, but maybe the hotel had a pool. When the ten minutes were up, Dan texted him again.

Cute but not long enough wanna go for drinks tonight?

There was nothing Phil would like to do better, so he texted back enthusiastically

I’d love to!!! When and where?

half seven ish? is there a pub you like near you i'd like to get to know your london

Phil knew exactly what Dan meant when he referred to “his London”. The city was so vast and so multicultural that you often had to only walk a few hundred yards to be in a completely different world. And the thought that Dan wanted to see his was wonderful to him. He texted him back the name and address of a cosy, elegant pub that, above a variety of beers, ciders and wines, served also quite a lot of food and snacks. Suddenly, he felt nervous. Time with Dan alone. It was almost like a date, wasn’t it? Of course, they hadn’t specified it to be, but for the first time, they were meeting just for the sake of it. And there was no Dylan to think about. Phil felt glad for it, and then guilty for that. He loved Dylan, it was just that, well… At quarter to seven, he opened his closet and looked through his clothes. He wanted to look good today, he wanted Dan to notice he had made an effort. So, he put on one of his nicer shirts and dark jeans. At a whim, he also put on a bow tie and a jacket, but then took off both. That was too much effort. Finally, he combed through his hair once more and left his flat. It was five past seven, and since he didn’t want to be this early, Phil decided to make a detour to the park. Luckily, he had his mobile and his headphones with him, so he walked twice around the park pond, listening to music. When he arrived at the pub 20 minutes later, he felt relaxed and happy. He only had to wait for a short while until Dan arrived, too. They hugged each other as they said hello, then went in. “Did you find it well?” Phil asked. “I always get lost when I go somewhere new”. Dan laughed. “’Course you do. But, yeah, I found it well - I used my phone”. They found a nice secluded place in a corner; on the table, two tealights were burning. “Can I get you something to drink?” Phil asked, while Dan was studying the menu. “Yeah, thanks”. So, Phil got himself a raspberry cider and a lager for Dan. They started talking about their respective weeks, though Phil neglected to mention that he would fly to L.A. in the morning. For some reason, it seemed like a bad idea to him. “Oh, by the way” Dan said and retrieved a piece of paper from his shoulder bag, “Dylan wanted me to give you this. He was quite jealous I get to see you tonight and he doesn’t”. “Aw, thanks” Phil took the paper. It was a drawing that Dylan had made, showing what was probably supposed to be himself and Phil, playing football. “That’s so sweet, tell him I said thank you”. Dan took a large gulp from his drink. “He’ll be fine at Jess’s, right?” Pitying him, Phil put his hand on Dan’s. “Of course he’ll be”. “She’s such an awful mother!” “How long has it been since he’s seen her?” Dan thought for a moment. “I think he last saw her on that Sunday when we met you. I haven’t allowed her near him since then… But, you know, she is his mum”. “If I were her, I’d put a lot of effort in this meeting, then… I wouldn’t want to mess it up, again” Phil said. “Yeah, let’s hope that’s the case” Dan smiled meekly. “Why did you have Dylan in the first place?” Phil was genuinely curious, but when he saw how Dan’s smile, however small it might have been, vanished, he quickly added: “I mean, I’ very happy that you did. Dylan is wonderful…” “I get it” Dan shrugged. “Remember I told you Jess was just the rebound? Well, we didn’t last long and when she discovered she was pregnant, she didn’t tell me for weeks… When a friend finally told me, it was already too late for an abortion” “Oh” Dan chuckled. “My mum was fuming when she found out. When I told her I’d drop out of uni, she wanted to sue Jess”. “And did she?” “Nah, she didn’t. And she still doesn’t like Jess, but she adores Dylan”. Phil chuckled. “My mum wants grandchildren, too”. “Oh yeah?” Dan asked, grinning “Why haven’t you complied yet?”. “I never met anyone I wanted to have kids with” Phil shrugged. “But I think I’d be a great Dad”. “I think so, too” Dan smiled warmly, making Phil’s heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter in his tummy. They were being playful, Phil knew that, but he still got his hopes up. For the first time he realized, he not only wanted to be with Dan, he also wanted to be Dylan’s dad. The palm of his hand was still resting on the back of Dan’s, but before he could squeeze it, Dan pulled it away to take a sip from his bottle. There was something nervous about him all of a sudden, and he avoided Phil’s gaze. It seemed fairly obvious to Phil that Dan was, for some reason, uncomfortable, so he changed topics. “Video games” he said. “What about them?” Dan asked, surprised. “You said you liked them. Got a favourite?” As they were discussing video games, the tension eased. After about an hour, they ordered another drink and shared some chips, their conversation having drifted to books, films and TV shows. So far, Phil thought, the evening was going swimmingly. There had been that awkward moment, and they hadn’t ventured into that area of conversation again, but the butterflies from earlier hadn’t disappeared. “Hey, so” Dan said, having emptied his second beer, “why did you pick out this pub?”. Phil shrugged. “I like it here, don’t you?” “Sure” “Besides, it’s close to my flat…” Lifting his head a bit, Dan smiled at him. “May I see it?” “My flat?” Phil swallowed dryly. “Yeah…” “’course, we can go now, if you want to…”

They grabbed their coats and headed into the street. Despite the cold, Phil felt warm, in fact, he felt like he was burning up; probably because Dan was walking right next to him, their hands brushing occasionally. The building of Phil’s flat was old but grand; when it had been renovated last, a small elevator had been installed, which they used to ride to the upmost storey. They stood so close together that Phil feared Dan could feel the heat radiating from him. Luckily, they arrived at the fifth floor soon enough and Phil led Dan through the curt hallway and into his flat. Kitchen and lounge were a single large, open-spaced room with a glass front on the backside of the room. “Wow” Dan said upon entering. “The view’s amazing”. London’s lights were glimmering; the night sky was velvet. “If you go to the window and turn your head left, you can just see the Shard” Phil said. “Can I take your coat?” “How very gentlemanly of you” Dan grinned, his eyes sparkling, but he took off his parka and gave it to Phil before he went to try and see the Shard. “I never realized you could make so much money by writing children’s books!” he mumbled, not taking his gaze of the view. “Yeah, uh, most people don’t… I’ve just been very lucky” Phil explained, turning his back towards Dan to put both of their coats into the closet. Facing him again, suddenly, took courage. But when he did, Dan was smiling at him apologetically. “So” Phil cleared his throat, “do you want something to drink? I’ve got water, Ribena, coffee, tea, coke, wine…?” “Yeah, wine’d be great” “Red or white?” “Uh, red” Phil got the glasses and uncorked the bottle, while Dan sat down on the couch facing the window. “Do you get someone to clean your windows or do you do that yourself? Oh, thanks” He took the glass from Phil. “Yeah, no, my landlord hires a company to do that every two months” Phil sat next to Dan carefully. For a while, they just sipped wine from their glasses, their gazes meeting occasionally. “So, your kitchen is nice” Dan commented. “Do you like cooking?” “Uh, sometimes…” Silence again. It was surprising to Phil how awkward they suddenly were. What had changed when they came to the flat? “With an open room like this, you probably do a lot of hoovering, don’t you?” Phil shook his head. “What’s going on?”.

In a swift move, Dan put his glass onto the table, leaned in and kissed Phil on the mouth. The kiss was heated and intense and it made Phil’s heart beat faster and all the blood in his body rush towards his crotch. Forgetting he was holding a wine glass himself, Phil leaned in closer and promptly spilled wine over himself and Dan. “Ah, shoot!” They pulled apart a bit. “I’m so sorry, Dan!” “It’s fine” Dan murmured. Slowly, he started unbuttoning his shirt. Phil’s eyes followed Dan’s fingers for two buttons, then he reached out and helped him, revealing Dan’s smooth chest underneath. Almost in awe, Phil slid his hands over the newly exposed skin, then planted a kiss just above his collar bone. Surprised, Dan breathed in deeply. While Phil’s lips were working their way up towards his neck and his Adam’s apple, Dan busied himself by unbuttoning Phil’s shirt. They kissed again, slowly but deeply and Dan swung a leg over Phil’s lap. Placing his hands on Dan’s hips, Phil pulled him onto his lap completely, so that Dan was now straddling him. They grinded into each other, both rock hard, and Phil kissed Dan’s neck again, sucking and almost bruising. A moan escaped from Dan’s lips. “Phil!” He cupped Phil’s face, making him look at him directly. They stared into each other’s eyes for a second, and briefly, Phil feared that Dan wanted to stop. “Show me your bed!” Dan said instead.

[petrescueblog]

https://ift.tt/1LawsIA Best Cat Breeds for Beginners: a Comprehensive Guide to Choose

People are said to be divided into two distinct categories: “dog” and “cat” ones. This thing is both true and false and we can explain why. It is very limiting to say that some people are subject to dogs, in the sense that they could only deal with this animal, get along with Fido, have affinity only with him; while others are identical, but towards the cat.

In reality, the need to adopt, take care of another living being, and love it has nothing to do with feeling. it is a vocation, and if you feel it, you feel it, regardless of what type of pet it enters a part of your life. It is true, however, that “canaries” and “cats” can be easily recognized, because they have very peculiar distinctive characteristics. In fact, dogs and cats are not very similar.

You May Like: Cute Boy Cat Names

There are those who are born in this regard with a certain harmony with the little cats. These people, however, do not know that mutual attraction is not enough to get along with love and agreement (as in human relationships).

it takes a lot of commitment, perseverance, practical spirit, responsibility, intellectual but also emotional maturity. In practice, one must be ready to become a parent and try to gain experience immediately, because a cat could also prove complicated to manage.

For this reason, we have decided to list the cat breeds for beginners, that is, the most tender, most accommodating, easiest to treat that exist in the world. Basically, we’ve prepared a list of amateur-proof cats. You are unlikely to have problems with these furballs.

Top 10 Best Cat Breeds for Beginners

Despite the fact that cats are, by far, the most popular pet in the world (true story, there are more than eighty million of those furballs that run here and there across the planet), our feline friends receive many bad reviews.

The “haters” assume that cats are selfish and hostile and will not give their owners as much love or affection as it is known they are able to give dogs. There is nothing more false. If you are also of this opinion, we will change your mind.

This misconception starts from the deeply rooted belief that cats do not appreciate the company of humans. And while, yes, some cats can be loners and maybe even a little “grumpy”, there are actually a lot of breeds that love (and even seek) attention from us.

According to American Scientific, cats have literally learned to meow in a certain way, with a certain tone in order to imitate the lament of our children, so that humans felt compelled to take care of them. Their ability tells us two very important things about them, namely that:

they are quite intelligent

show a real desire to spend time with us

If you are thinking of taking a cat (if you are reading this article, this is probably your intention), why not choose an easy-going and easy-to-manage breed within the four walls of an apartment? Obviously, all cats are worthy of being adopted and deserve our unconditional affection, but we have discovered that there is a type of cat for beginners.

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The best cat breeds for beginners are, thanks to their calm behaviors and their cuddly personality, perfect anyone who wants to share their life with a small feline: even the most experienced cats could find it comforting to spend time with these cats.

Here are the beginner cat breeds that are also the most cuddly in the world.

1. Ragdoll

Ragdoll | Cat Breeds for Beginners

Ragdoll is a well-balanced cat with no eccentric features. It is a medium-large, moderately long-haired, blue-eyed cat. Ragdolls have a slow maturation and therefore reach the hair and color at about three years. Ragdoll is an affectionate and intelligent cat, who always moves in a very graceful way.

All about His Temperament

Docile, polite and congenial, ragdolls are ideal companions for the in-door. One of the most beautiful characteristics of these cats is their relaxed and sweet personality. They are completely wrapped in silky fur and have delicate white legs. They easily tune into the habits and feelings of their humans.

you will find it in front of the front door, when you return from work, to warmly welcome you, relax with a massage and print a basin on your forehead to say goodnight. If you have had a bad day, it will curl up in your lap to offer you comfort. You would never find a better friend.

They are playful cats, ragdolls, but not hyperactive. Known for its ability to adapt easily to almost any environment, it gets along well with children and adults, as well as with dogs and other cats. They can be trained to stand out on the counter and are affectionate without being overly demanding.

They have soft and polite voices, even at dinner, although they are famous for their enthusiasm for food. One thing that ragdolls don’t have, however, is immunity to pain: if you accidentally step on their tails, they scream at you and look at you with reproach, just like any other cat.

2. Maine Coon

The Maine coon is solid, robust and can withstand a harsh climate. A distinctive feature of this cat is the long, bristly coat. This breed is well proportioned, has a balanced appearance, and has adapted to various environments.

All About Maine Coon

No race has a monopoly on love and affection, but there must be a good reason why the Maine Coons have made their way in these years: they were an endangered feline breed, but today they are the second most popular of America. Maine Coon fans claim that its popularity is due to the breed’s large size, intelligence, lush coat, tough disposition and devotion to its human family.

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Maine coons are very good kittens, “great gentle giants” who always play until old age. They can also be reserved with people they are unfamiliar with (they are too smart to trust anyone). This initial adaptation period is actually a well thought out choice: the Maine Coon is deciding whether its new humans seem trustworthy. As soon as he decides, however, he forms close ties with the whole family and becomes loving and devoted.

Most want to be near you, but not on your lap. They are true family members and participate in all family rituals. As befits an ex-seafarer, Maine Coons are fascinated by water (other than repellency), perhaps because their thick coats are practically waterproof (yes, that’s right, incredible).

Some may even try to reach their humans in the shower, or at least they will walk on the wet floor after exiting. They prefer to stand on the edge of the tub, however, and touch the water with a curious paw.

3. Siamese

The ideal Siamese is a medium-sized cat, slender and refined with long tapered lines, very agile but muscular. Males can be proportionally larger. Balance and refinement are the essence of the breed, in which all the parts come together in a harmonious whole, although it does not have any significant characteristics that can stand out.

All About Their temperament

Some cats seem to think that purring or a friendly rub is worth a thousand words. Siamese do not belong to this school of thought and is known for their talent in clearly communicating their ideas and desires to their “human servants”.

If you can’t get involved in the dialogue, they are happy to hold a monologue to illuminate your little Neanderthal man mind. No insignificant meow ever comes out of their mouths their verses are real attempts at communication.

According to their fans, Siamese are the most wonderful, loving, and fun cats in the universe. They are very intelligent, self-confident, playful, determined, curious, and very active. They love their human companions with passion; living with Siamese is a bit like living with extremely active children. Except that these “children” follow you everywhere, asking to be involved in whatever you are doing.

Resolutely social and very dependent on people, Siamese craves active involvement in your life. They are super smart and, if you don’t give them something to do, they will find it for themselves (and you may not like your hobby very much).

This breed needs daily periods of play and interaction. it is essential for the Siamese’s emotional and mental health and well-being. They should not be left alone for long periods, this is not a breed that you can pamper for five minutes and leave alone for twelve hours.

The Siamese will become sad and depressed if left alone too often and maybe destructive of his frustration. The feline companionship of another Siamese or a relatively active breed will help keep a lonely Siamese happy while you are away, but there is no fetish that can replace you. Also, remember that two Siamese represent a double risk at home.

This breed is not for those looking for a quiet companion: Siamese must be treated patiently and require a lot of attention and affection. However, Siamese are generally good pets and are tolerant of children at least eight years old, provided that children are taught how to properly handle cats and not to play too violently.

4. American short-haired

American short-haired | Cat Breeds for Beginners

The American shorthair is a real working cat breed. The general effect is that of a strongly built cat, well balanced and symmetrical with a physicality that indicates power, endurance, and agility.

All About This Bread

In describing the short-haired American, the English expression that means “happy half” comes to mind. These American cats are of average size, build, type, and temperament: they are neither too large nor too small; not too cuddly nor distant; neither lazy nor hyperactive pandas.

The American shorthair is the perfect breed for those who want a cat that has fun on its lap but not on its face. American shorthairs are known for their adaptable temperament and quiet voices; they are sociable, easy to train, and adapt well in the presence of other animals and children.

They generally do not like being picked up: like their fellow pilgrims who left England to find freedom, they appreciate their independence. Historically, the American shorthair has been considered a working cat. Short-haired Americans have a lot of fun with their favorite humans, but they can also have fun with a paper ball.

They tend to remain active and playful even in their old age. ASHs also have a strong hunting instinct and have fun catching and killing mice if they have access to the great outdoors (but no trainers will ever encourage you to let it go).

5. Sphynx

Sphynx | Cat Breeds for Beginners

Cat for beginners: the sphynx (Photo Unsplash)

The most distinctive feature of this cat is its hairless appearance. The sphynx is medium in size and has a surprising weight for its size. The body feels warm and soft to the touch, with a skin texture similar to a soft peach or smooth nectarine. Sphynx is good-natured, lively, and susceptible to too many handling.

Info About Its temperament

To say that sphynx are lively is an understatement: they perform formidable athletic performances, similar to those of circus monkeys, in order to attract your attention. Very devoted and loyal, they follow their humans around, shaking their tails and purring with enthusiasm for the joy of being close to their beloved humans.

They require your unconditional attention and are mischievous (and adorable) like children. And despite all this and their alien appearance, they are really cats, with all the mystery and charm that has accompanied them since ancient times. Although sphynx may not be suitable for everyone, its unique appearance and charming temperament have allowed it to conquer a good number of adoring followers.

6. Scottish Fold

Scottish Fold | Cat Breeds for Beginners

Beginner Cat: Scottish Fold (Photo Unsplash)

Scottish fold is a spontaneous mutation of farm cats in Scotland. The breed was founded by crossbreeds between short-haired British and domestic cats in Scotland and England.

Scottish Fold Temperament

Scottish folds are generally intelligent, quick-tempered, calm, and easily adapt to new people and situations. They are loyal and tend to bond with someone in the family. While they will usually allow others to pamper and caress them, their primary attachment quickly becomes clear as they locate their chosen human being.

They thrive when they receive attention, but always on their terms. Despite their devotion, they are not sticky, demanding cats and usually prefer to be near you rather than on your lap.

Despite being folded, the fold’s ears can pop up occasionally, especially if someone is opening a nearby food box. The crease in the ear can become less pronounced when the cat is angry or ill.

Although some members of the fold family report increased production of wax buildup in their cats’ ears, folded ears do not make the cat more susceptible to mites or ear infections. The susceptibility to hearing loss may be related to the fact that some early Scottish folds were white and the white cats may be prone to a type of deafness unrelated to fold gene.

7. Somali

Cat for beginners: the Somali (Photo Unsplash)

The general impression of the Somali is that of a well-proportioned medium-large cat, with a strong, agile muscle development, which shows a lively and lively interest in all environments, with a predisposition to human contact.

All About Somali

Don’t take a Somali if you want a cat who can be pampered with excessive cuddling or if you want a cat who can be alone in the house all day. With all the virtues of the Abyssinian and adorned with a splendid semi-long coat, the Somali is a beautiful and rowdy addition to any family.

Like the Abyssinian, the Somali is vigorous and animated, has an acute sense of feline humor, and a real need for play. Indeed, everything is a game for a Somali: many prefer to chase a ball all along the corridor and then beat it up and down, carry it around until they are completely exhausted.

If the ball rolls under a piece of furniture from which they cannot retrieve it, then they will come to you and show you a wide-open gaze or touch you gently, so that you can get up to help them in the recovery mission. Feather rods and fishing rods are a big hit.

They are highly intelligent, which contributes to their talent getting into trouble. The Somali is active, curious,and in a good mood and loves to go around the house, opening the wardrobes and, why not, even risking to break something.

Their voices are soft, their minds active and their food dishes always empty. They also tend to be determined: once you put something in your head, you can’t dissuade them. They are not warlike, only tenacious.

Somalis are people-oriented and show a lot of affection. When you relax on the sofa, they prefer to be near you rather than on your legs. They won’t, however, be involved in every aspect of your life.

Open a drawer and your Somali will be there to peek inside and even insert a curious paw inside. Somalis are the best home entertainment you can buy and are more like people than cats: small, furry and hyperactive people. Very energetic and in a good mood, Somalis play like kittens until old age.

8. Persian

Beginner Cat: Persian (Photo Unsplash)

Persian is a well-balanced cat, has a sweet expression and soft, round lines. This cat has large spaced round eyes and a huge round head. The long hair often softens the cat’s lines and accentuates the roundness in the appearance.

Information on his temperament

If you want your cats to bounce like microwave popcorn, don’t adopt a Persian. Persians are perfect companions if you like placid and easygoing cats. Don’t count on using your Persian friend as a hairy doorstop, however. They love to play in relaxation brackets, lying on your favorite sofa. Proponents say that Persians do not deserve their reputation as “fur furniture”: they are intelligent but not nearly as curious as tome breeds, and not as active.

The Persians are devoted to their humans, but they can be selective in conferring that honor. You have to earn their trust and love. They want affection and pampering, but they won’t molest you for attention as other breeds do. However, they will make their feelings known if they do not get the necessary amount of attention.

Persians require significant commitment over time. That beautiful coat requires daily treatment to keep it in good condition and free of knots. You may need to take it from time to time to a professional groomer.

9. Abyssinian

The Abyssinian is often a colored cat with a distinctly popped hair, medium in size and very regal. Agile and muscular, he shows a keen interest in his surroundings. It is often well balanced from a physical and athletic point of view.

Information on His Temperament

Abyssinians are not for those who want a cat who likes to be taken and cuddled with excessive violence. Although they can often be brave, curious, and in a good mood, when they feel harassed, the Abyssinians tend to try to free themselves.

This does not mean that the Abyssinians are distant or independent; they are typically affectionate, devoted, and cuddly with their human companions. In fact, they will follow you from room to room to keep an eye on what you are doing.

They are very happy when they are actively involved in the usual rituals of all family members. They are particularly involved in dinner, for example. The Abyssinians regularly perform antics for yours and their enjoyment, gaining the reputation of clowns from the kingdom of cats. They could perch on their shoulders, crawl under the covers and sit next to you purring madly before running away to hunt imaginary butterflies and leap on the highest shelves in the library.

They are natural athletes, no closed rooms or closets are safe from their agile legs and inquiring minds. Vocally they tend to be silent. They purr with great enthusiasm, however, especially around dinner time. If you have to stay away all day, you may want to consider providing a feline company to entertain your Abyssinian. If you work all day and have an active social life at night, an Abyssinian may not be the cat for you.

10. Sacred cat of Burma

Cat for beginners: the sacred cat of Burma (Photo Unsplash)

A cat full of mystery and legend, the Burmese is a colored feline with long silky hair and four pure white feet. It often seems a little squat. Its distinctive head has strong jaws, firm chin, and medium length nose.

Information on His Temperament

Burmese are affectionate, kind, and faithful companions with an air of dignity that seems to encourage the worship of their families. As former temple cats, Burmese seem to have become accustomed to worship. They are very intelligent and affectionate, according to some, they are often very people-oriented.

They will generally greet visitors with curiosity rather than fear. Because of their gentle temperament, Burmese are generally easy to handle: taking care of them is simple and they are ideal pets for anyone who wants peaceful companions who offer love and affection.

The post Best Cat Breeds for Beginners: a Comprehensive Guide to Choose appeared first on Pet Rescue Blog.

via Pet Rescue Blog

[jeremiahdowney]

Michael

My son Michael is all I have left.

But in a lot of ways I’m lucky, because he’s all I need.

He’s such a good boy.

He takes care of me, looks after the house and manages to keep his grades up at college. I’m so lucky and so, so proud of him.

It would have been very easy for things to go wrong for him, after all he’s been through.

It started when he was just two years old. Michael fell down the stairs and banged his head hard on the stone floor in the hallway. Claire should have been watching him. She should have been there, but she was never attentive enough, she never cared for him like she should. Not like I do.

He suffered with seizures for days after. We nearly lost him. I don’t know what I would have done then. I couldn’t live without my boy.

But he made it. He was strong and he showed me that, when you’re faced with adversity and things aren’t working, you need to be tough. You need to fight.

His recovery made me feel brave enough to try for another child — made me prepared to give Claire another chance to be the mother she should have been.

So, three years after Michael was born, she fell pregnant with Amy. Our little girl was beautiful, with my dark hair and Claire’s piercing blue eyes, just like Michael. Michael felt a little threatened at first — I’m sure all children do when a new sibling upturns their life — but over the months, he warmed to her. He was so protective.

There were times when I saw him standing by her crib, just watching her sleep. He had the most intense look on his face — it was the sweetest thing.

Amy adored Michael too, she looked up to him and would follow him around like a little puppy, desperate to play with her big brother.

When I close my eyes and picture my daughter, that’s how I always remember her. Her sparkling blue eyes twinkling with joy as she dashed after my Michael. It’s a good memory.

Michael loved her, just as much as me and Claire did. Now I think about, I realize Claire might have resented Michael even back then. I think she was jealous of how much Amy loved him. Of how much I do.

That’s why she blamed him, after it happened. He was only seven though, for crying out loud. What kind of a mom leaves a seven-year-old and a four-year-old unsupervised in a garden with a pond? What kind of woman doesn’t panic when her son comes in alone to get a sandwich, his clothes wet.

He told me that after they played in her Wendy house, he was playing with his sister by the pond, that he splashed the water to make her laugh. Amy was only four. She couldn’t swim.

Claire should have been watching them.

Afterwards she was never the same. A fortnight after we buried our daughter, Claire packed a bag and left.

Good riddance.

You should have heard the filthy lies she told before she went, the vile accusations at that poor, sweet, innocent little boy. She asked me to choose — Ha! Like there was ever a choice to make! — then, when she saw my mind was made up, she told me to wake up. She told me to open my eyes and look at the world, to not let love blind me.

I looked her straight in the eye and told her I never would, then I slammed the door behind her.

Poor Michael was so traumatized. He was obviously in shock, because he acted so detached and emotionless about the loss of his sister and mother. I think he must have been left numb by the emotional rawness of the situation. But there were signs, subtle hints that he wasn’t coping anywhere near as well as it might first appear.

I feel a little ashamed for sharing this, because I’d never want to embarrass him, but for a long time afterwards he would wet the bed at night. It broke my heart as I stuffed his soiled sheets into the washing machine, knowing how much he must be hurting. My poor, poor boy.

So, to help Michael cope with his grief, I bought him a kitten. She was a little black and white thing, her eyes still blue, her mewing little voice so delicate and so fragile sounding that she couldn’t help but melt my heart. I thought that she could be a new friend for Michael to talk to when he felt he couldn’t talk to anybody else.

When he first saw her I knew that I had done the right thing — his eyes lit up, a beaming smile spread across his face and he turned to me and asked: ‘Is it for me? Can I keep it?’

I smiled back and told him yes, of course he could, but first she needed a name.

I had to dab at the tears that welled in my eyes when he picked the kitten up, held her close to his chest, and smiled at me as he said: ‘Amy. This is Amy.’

Michael was so attentive to that little cat, and she was exactly what he needed when my poor, unlucky little boy suffered yet another tragedy when he was only 10 years old. Michael knows he shouldn’t have played with the matches, but all children are curious, aren’t they? I mean, I’m sure if you tell most little boys or girls not to play with fire they are going to want to find out why. It makes sense.

There had been a few fires in our neighborhood that Summer, so I had mentioned how important it was that he be careful, that he not play with anything that could cause a blaze. In a lot of ways it’s probably my fault for putting the thought in his impressionable little mind.

I think he still associated the Wendy house with the day he lost his sister. I think he still remembered the pain of that bereavement and that was why he wanted it gone.

I don’t know where he got the lighter from, but I know I should have taken better care of him. He could never have known the burning plastic would run and drip like that. How would a 10-year-old know that it would stick to the skin on his hands, that it would burn so hot and cling to the flesh, even as it charred his little pink fingers?

He was so brave as we sped to the hospital. The cold water from the faucet saved him from any permanent nerve damage, but the skin bubbled and blistered before my eyes, the sickening smell of the singed downy hairs on his arms filling the air.

But even as I panicked, racing to the ER, he never cried. He was so still, so quiet. He’s so brave.

It was only a few weeks after the event, while his poor little hands were still bandaged, that I heard him react to it. It was late at night, and as I walked by his bedroom door I heard him. He was whispering to himself in the darkness.

But they weren’t words of misery that I heard, instead he was furiously hissing exclamations of pure rage and fury at the situation. He was so angry, it sounded like he really hated himself for it. I moved closer to his door, planning to knock and ask if he wanted to talk, but a creaking floorboard gave me away and at once Michael fell silent.

I took the hint and backed away, giving him the space he clearly wanted.

Time passed and finally the bandages were removed. It was upsetting to see his little hands afterwards. They were weak (it took weeks of physio before he could use them properly again), and the skin was waxy looking, pale and covered in ripples, yet smooth as porcelain in other places. They still look like that to this day.

I thought their appearance would frighten him, but instead he studied them carefully, peering at them intensely through the black rimmed spectacles he had just started to wear (sadly my little boy inherited my shortsightedness), his stony face impregnable. Finally he nodded and lowered them again, listening as the doctor explained how they would recover. He never betrayed the slightest hint of emotion then. I couldn’t believe how brave he was.

Yet no sooner had we overcome that last obstacle, then tragedy struck again.

I think it must have been a fox, maybe a stray dog.

But when I walked out into our yard that morning, I knew what that bloody, tattered thing down in the corner was before I even got there. Yet if it weren’t for her little purple collar, I might not have been able to confirm what I feared. Amy, Michael’s pet and best friend, had been ripped to shreds.

I scooped her up and placed her broken little body in a box, then, with a heavy heart, I took the long walk upstairs to Michael’s bedroom.

I rapped on the door, then entered. Michael was sitting in his bed, still in his pyjamas, and placed his spectacles on his nose as I sat down beside his feet.

‘Hey, buddy,’ I said gently.

‘Hello Dad,’ he replied, his kind face watching me fixedly.

‘Uh, I need to talk to you about Amy…’ I continued.

‘Oh Amy’s not here,’ Michael replied. ‘She’s dead.’

I felt so sad to have to correct him. ‘No, not your sister, buddy,’ I said. ‘I’m talking about your cat.’

Michael peered at me, a slight look of confusion flickering across his face.

‘Uh, I think an animal got into our yard last night,’ I continued. ‘And, uh, I’m so sorry to tell you this, but I think it killed Amy. I’m sorry.’

I leant in close and wrapped my arms around my son, hoping I could somehow shield him from the pain.

When you get right down to the core of it, I think that’s what a parent is — a child’s shield against the horrors of this world. It’s all we should ever hope to be. It’s the only role I have ever wanted.

When I finally let go and looked at Michael he was so serene, and I felt glad to have at least helped him a little in that moment.

‘You ok?’ I asked him.

He nodded, swallowed hard, then licked his dry lips.

‘Dad?’ he said quietly. ‘Can I see her?’

I wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, but he was adamant it was what he wanted and I didn’t feel I could deny him that last chance to say goodbye.

So I held his hand and walked him downstairs to the box that held Amy’s remains.

‘Are you sure about this?’ I asked one last time, but Michael nodded at me — a short, anxious gesture.

So I lifted the lid.

Michael peered into the box at what remained of his cat for the best part of a minute. He didn’t say a thing, instead staring with glistening eyes behind his glasses. He held it together so well, but one thing betrayed how he was feeling.

His breathing changed. It became faster and faster, right up until I replaced the lid.

He must have been so upset.

After we buried Michael’s best friend at the end of the yard, I worried about him a lot.

Michael didn’t have many friends, and I couldn’t work out why. He never really fitted in at school, which is why I think his grades never quite matched his intelligence. He is such a clever boy, but for the vast majority of his years in education his grades have been average at best.

I noticed that he never really mixed well with other children, and became concerned that he would struggle to find companionship. It was with this concern in mind that I made him an appointment with Dr Sparrow, a highly regarded child therapist.

But when the day of the appointment came, poor little Michael had a terrible stomach ache. I nearly ended up having to take him to the ER, but luckily it passed on its own. We tried to reschedule, but each time something seemed to crop up. In the end he never did meet with Dr Sparrow, but that’s no big deal, because shortly after I voiced my concerns about Michael’s lack of interaction with other kids he quickly made some friends. Not many, and I don’t think any of them were ever that close to him, but it was a start.

He’s always been a very private person, so I didn’t pry about his relationships and he kept them very much to himself. I was just glad to know that he was forming some bonds after all.

I think he just needed time to become the boy I knew he could be.

Over the high school years he studied hard and discovered a real joy in exercise and personal fitness. I let him work out with my old barbell in the garage and he would take long runs through the nearby woods. It made me happy to see him taking care of himself.

Michael never got in any trouble, you know. Well, except that one time when a bully poked fun at his pressed white shirt, his khakis and his neat side parting. You know how that sort of person can be, they see somebody taking more pride in his appearance than they do and they go on the offensive. The boy called him horrible names, then he even punched Michael, bloodying his nose and ruining his shirt.

The boy had a reputation as a troublemaker, so it was always going to backfire one day.

The Principal tried to tell me that Michael had gone too far, that after that boy was taken to hospital she would need to be seen to take action. I wouldn’t stand for it, I wouldn’t let her punish my Michael for defending himself against that little scumbag. It was a real battle and I even needed to get a lawyer involved (which I couldn’t really afford) but eventually Michael was able to return to school without any blemish on his record. We paid the other boy’s family to make this go away — not because Michael did anything wrong, but because I wanted it all over and done with before he applied for college. I had to remortgage the house, just so that little bastard who tried to victimize my boy could get the physio he needed to walk again and some expensive dentures so he could chew steak.

As if a piece of work like that deserves steak! He should be on bread on water, in a prison with all the other degenerates.

Still, after that whole unfortunate situation was over, Michael had done well enough to get accepted into the local college. I thought this was perfect — I could keep an eye on him and he could continue to get the education he needed to make his mark on the world. I didn’t want him to feel that he was missing out though, so I bought him an old pick-up truck. I felt it could give him some independence and I know he appreciated the thought. He passed his test first time.

He’s such a clever boy.

He’d barely been at college for a full semester when something happened that made me all the more grateful that I was able to keep an eye on him.

A college girl was killed.

They found her in the woods, and the news reports suggests that the monster who killed her had performed some unspeakable acts on the poor girl before murdering her.

I told Michael that he needed to be careful out in those woods, that no matter how well he knew them, he wasn’t safe out there.

He just smiled and told me not to worry, that I shouldn’t have any concerns about anybody trying anything with him.

Yet just when I was starting to calm down, it happened again. And again. And again.

There have now been six killings. All girls from local towns, all of whom have been taken from their homes, then discovered days later, deep in the woods. All of whom have shown the same upsetting pattern of injuries. It made me worry for poor Michael’s safety at first, but then, a month ago, I realized just how bad it was.

I was looking for my work gloves and remembered that Michael had asked about them just a few days earlier.

Michael was at college so I went into his room to see if I could find them there. At first I had no luck, but then I looked under his bed. Sure enough, there they were, but then I spotted the box.

It was a small, unassuming, wooden thing, with a latch.

I feel ashamed to admit it, but I was curious, so I took it out and had a look inside.

Inside I found several newspaper cuttings, all about the murdered girls. The most recent one was a pretty girl called Kerri, the paper including a recent photo of her with dyed bright red hair and a cute smile. Then I saw them. Down in the bottom of the box, tucked into the corner.

A girl’s ring.

A pendant.

A vanity mirror.

A piece of pink ribbon.

A button.

A single lock of bright red hair.

Suddenly it dawned on me. Michael had known these girls, probably even been close to them. If he kept a lock of Kerri’s hair, he might even have been in love with her.

My heart broke — how much more tragedy could befall my poor boy? How many more people that he cared about would he lose?

Wiping at my damp eyes, I placed everything back in the little wooden box and tucked it back under his bed before backing out through the door with my gloves.

Later that evening, after he came home from college, Michael came to speak with me while I was working in the yard.

‘Dad, did you go in my room today?’ he asked, pale and thoughtful.

‘Yeah, buddy, just to get these gloves,’ I smiled, respecting his privacy and not raising the subject of the box of keepsakes, the memories of his departed friends. I knew he’d talk to me about it when he was ready.

He stood watching me from behind his thick glasses for some time, that same thoughtful look on his face, before finally nodding, a determined little gesture (or was it one of gratitude?), then smiling and saying: ‘Hey Dad, why don’t I cook dinner tonight? You don’t look like you’re feeling so good.’

I told him I was fine, but said he could cook if he wanted. I knew he probably wanted to do it to thank me for being so discreet about his box.

As it goes, I’m glad Michael did cook, because later that night, after we ate, I did start to feel unwell. Maybe Michael will be a doctor with an eye like that? He’s certainly clever enough.

My illness has gotten worse over the last few weeks, and I’ve ended up bedridden. Our home is pretty isolated out here, so I’ve had nothing but this laptop and my son for company.

Luckily Michael has taken over the running of the house, including making all of our meals. I’m doing my best to eat them, but the pains in my stomach are getting so bad now. I’ve felt so sick and I’m definitely weaker than I was. I’ll be honest with you, I’m starting to worry that this could be something serious — and I told Michael as much yesterday.

He told me that Dr Harper has been real busy lately, but he’ll be along soon to get me back on the road to recovery. In the meantime I just need to take it easy, while Michael takes care of our home.

Even now, as the sky darkens and the stars are starting to appear, I can hear him hard at work in our backyard, digging away.

My son Michael is all I have left.

But in a lot of ways I’m lucky, because he’s all I need.

He’s such a good boy.

[loveyoujaytodd]

do yall remember that one post about someone soaking their plushie in milk and then sucking milk out of it and throwing it against the wall,,. sad mark reminds me of that idk why

and now, some sad memorial marks: