#i do things for my cats and around the house but for myself ?

[moochii-daisies]

-18+, Minors DNI

- Genre//Pairing: fluff // idol yoongi x ditzy mess of a reader (they're the same age, reference to bein born in the 1900's)

- Summary: yoongi misses going to the movies, luckily - someone has a plan

- Length: 4.3k words

- warnings-content contains: swearing and yoongi has a lil sad moment (immediate comfort). reader and yoongi have unspoken (obvious) crushes on each other. cheesy use of d-day because song references bring me joy. they hold hands. because it's important to me that someone holds his hand. idk what it's like to be an idol this is loosely based on a daydream haha.

- Sidenotes: i think yoongi mentioned missing going to the movies in road to d-day? idk but the idea keeps popping up so i hope you enjoy and thank you for reading if you do <3 also - i think i read a fic a yr or so ago that first inspired this and if i can find it i'll post it here asap! (despite how this starts - i feel like yoongi would be so accepting and i hope that comes across)

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     "no."

yoongi slams the door in my face before i'm able to get a word in. and ok yeah, this idea is ridiculous.

but i'm on a mission.

it's sole purpose?

is to get this man out of the damn house.

     the devil himself mumbles through the intercom outside his front door, "you of all people, can not tell me to leave." and to be fair, the devil has a point.

     yoongi and i met in a pretty cliche way: bumped into each other in an elevator at work. but it wasn't love at first sight.

to put it politely.

the first time we were introduced properly, all this man did was stare blankly and say, "ok." before loudly launching into a monologue about how some girl on the elevator had ruined his morning coffee. (i accidentally bumped his shoulder and made him drop it.)

     in the many months since then - choice words have been said and things got immature. we may or may not have driven each other insane by exclusively texting at obscene hours. and someone may have pushed every single button on the elevator once to make the other late (it backfired, we were both going to the same meeting.)

     weirdly enough and despite all of this, our mutual love of chillin' the fuck out has been strong enough to bond us together. our combined ability to not leave the house has led to us spending a lot of our free time in each other's company. usually i hide whenever the doorbell rings, "you're like a stray cat." is what yoongi always says, all because i hissed at the sound of the doorbell one time. in my defense, i never know who the hell is gonna walk through his door. and i only hissed cause i was really tired. i think jungkook had come over at 8am to drop something off before he went to bed.

also, we almost exclusively hang out at his penthouse apartment. he came over to my place exactly once and discovered that i'd stopped going to the grocery store. in my defense (again), convenience stores really are convenient.

     since i "keep myself alive with shit food and miracles" - according to yoongi, our friendship has evolved to be...dynamic to say the least.

     this time though, i'm not the one who needs help being a person.

this time is different.

     i knew yoongi was famous before we became friends but it pretty quickly became obvious that yoongi was such an extreme shut-in out of necessity, not his own free will.

     if i hadn't recognized it, he certainly would've let me know. the hints started to drop whenever we'd watch a movie, he'd grumble and throw pieces of popcorn into my hair -

"this would be way more fun if we were in a theater."

     he insisted he didn't really want to go though, so i dropped it initially. but then he started sighing while looking out the window.

longingly.

     his chest would heave while he peered around dark curtains in his living room. although, he only ever did it at nighttime, so i dunno what he was looking at exactly. we did help stop a mugger once - with the aid of gargantuan binoculars that he bought for a bird-watching phase. i can't deny, that part was pretty cool.

however - the popcorn has become an issue. it's like he always has it on his person, specifically to throw at me. i dunno how he manages to do it but, there have been a few meetings lately where the other members stopped to pick pieces of it out of my hair with skeptical looks.

     i've given every reasonable excuse for it at this point and they're starting to get strange (ex: "i like to eat it with my hair hanging over the bowl.") whenever i've tried to call out the person responsible, yoongi does that thing he does when he's trying to avoid something. he gazes off at nothing and pretends to think very hard. usually, while he's walking away.

    all of this is to say - that's kinda why i'm here now: arguing with yoongi, locked outside of his apartment, with three giant bags weighing on my arms.

     " i, for some reason, am the only person who can tell you to leave." i smash down the button of the intercom to relay my response.

hobi led the group call initially -

     ok, i say group call. but this was the entire conversation:

hobi: yoongi?

jin: yep.

jimin: mhm.

taehyung: yup.

namjoon: yeah.

jungkook: yerp.

hobi: got it?

- ...

hobi: got it?

me: yes!

- call ended -

     i haven't really gotten that close with them yet.

and as far as i can tell, this is up to me.

apparently.

     yoongi scoffs through the monitor and static tickles down my ears.

     "you're the boss." is all he says.

     i can see the smirk on his face despite being on the other side of the door.

there's a moment of silence after that.

a moment that i break.

     "he who shall not be named! these are heavy and you have neighbors and i have time today. and i also! have no! shame!" yoongi pulls me through the door mid-shout.

     "are you fuckin' kidding me? you apologized to a tree for laughing too loud." his grip on my upper arm slides down to yank a bag out of one hand.

     "well, if it had been a person then it would've been polite." i huff and wobble on one leg, trying to get both shoes off hands free.

     as i look down at my stupidly tight boots, another bag lifts off of my arm.

     the sound of it crinkling is followed by a very heavy sigh.

     i triumphantly wrangle the second shoe off and grin at yoongi.

     "get out." he says sternly, then shoves the bags back against my chest.

     i grip onto his hands before he can pull them away.

with a small tug, and once he leans his face in closer, i whisper out, "no."

     he bonks his forehead against mine gently with a low, "okay, good." and we both smile on our way to the kitchen and dining area.

     once i've set the bags on the dark oak table i turn to him as seriously as i can, "ok but for real, if i have to watch you sigh while lookin' out the window one more time? i'm gonna lose my mind. plus, it'll be fun! you always say so..."

     i forget about trying to look serious and swing my hips back and forth as i talk.

     yoongi leans against clean kitchen countertops, crossing both arms and one foot over the other.

     "the simplicity is what i miss most." he's wry with his words, wrinkling his nose.

     i groan and rifle through the bags, "well when you start to sigh about that then i'll work on it. for now though, we've got...this!"

      shaking an ankle length tweed trench-coat, i turn to him with an encouraging nod.

     "this is gonna help me be unnoticed?" he asks incredulously.

     instead of answering, i dive back into the bag, rummaging around until i find a plastic pipe next.

     "might i suggest these for you sir?" i walk around the table and wave the trench-coat around in the air.

     "c'mon, you know you wanna. i already got us tickets on my phone! it's that new gambling movie where everything's tense the whole time but, the soundtrack has some composers you like -" i didn't mean to let that last part slip out.

     yoongi's lips twitch and he snatches the trench-coat away from me. then he gripes out:

     "hat."

just one word, accompanied with an expectant look.

     "please don't talk to me like i'ma dog." even though i say this, i reach into the bags to find the right one.

     yoongi smirks and takes a Sherlock Holmes style hat away from me.

     he jerks his chins at the bags and softly commands, "you."

i pull out an oversized men's suit, bowler hat and fake mustache from the middle one.

      yoongi's deadpan, "did you just wanna dress like Holmes and Watson." and i open my mouth to respond, then close it, twice.

     "look - it's D-Day. we're in disguise, it's like a sneaky mystery. like, nobody is gonna know except us and you can't throw popcorn at me!" i sneak in the request i've been too scared to ask at the end. it's easier to say with my eyes closed but, that doesn't cover how red my face feels.

     it's silent for a weird amount of time and i peek an eye open to glance at him.

     "change." is all he says as he squints at the ceiling, and i try not to skip on my way down the hall to the bathroom.

as i do, i hear his rumbling complaints bounce off the walls around me. the way my heart is thudding makes both ears strain for it, seeking it out.

"you keep calling it D-Day like that means something. but do i say no? of course not. why would i..."

i'm glad he can't see the smile on my face as i shut the door behind me. one deep, calm breath and my heartbeat settles back to normal.

     yoongi likes jasmine, tobacco and cedarwood. he's got those aroma reed incense jar things in every room. i've learned that he sticks with jasmine when he's moody, and that cedarwood is reserved for very good days. tobacco's kind of a mixed bag though. like, one day he was really dedicated to making a stew. as in, all day long - it was next level incredible though.

on another tobacco day, he got himself into a funky mood from reading too many crime novels. i know we both wound up believing that we were actually figuring out an unsolved case but, that was a sleep-deprived 5am belief.

     anyways, today it's jasmine.

i wiggle into the baggy suit and place the bowler hat on top of my head. it's so big that i can only see the reflection of my chin when i look in the mirror. it's always soft lighting at yoongi's place. decorations? eh, he's made it look nice but it isn't a priority. harsh lighting though? it makes him so irritable that he called jungkook over one day to help him switch all of the lightbulbs out for ones labeled, "soft and gentle". the overhead light is never on in his apartment and despite the black wood accents, nothing looks lifeless or dark. instead, it's all just warm.

everything in his place is always warm.

     "what if we don't do this and we never speak of this again?" yoongi grumbles on the other side of the bathroom door and my fake mustache teeters as i fight off a grin.

     handlebar secured - i fling the door open, except, all i can see is a bit of yoongi's broad back as he hides behind the wall. a few steps to my right and just around the corner, i try to take a sneaky glimpse but our eyes meet directly. he frowns, rolls his in an exaggerated manner - and tries not to laugh. the hat is squishing his cheeks together in a way that makes me want to giggle just as much as it makes me want to bite them.

     "perhaps you do need a hat." i hold a hand over my mouth and duck my head away from his gaze.

     "are you...laughing at me?" he leans over to regain eye contact. if he's trying not to look amused, he isn't putting much effort into it.

     "nyope. no. i dunno what you're talkin' about." i twist my lips together, attempting to hold back my smile. then yoongi starts snaking his neck around, chasing my averting eyes with a side-smile sliding across his face.

     long, wide fingers stretch out and palm the top of my bowler hat.

"gimme a good one." he teases, then steers my head over to the bags and patiently waits for me to find him a better one.

i whip around with an oversized floppy sunhat in my hands.

"i think it's perfect." is all i can say.

unfortunately, i can't hide my beaming grin as i do.

yoongi scoffs and rips the hat out from my grip before ironically growling, "then put it on me."

it comes out deep enough that it hits the pit of my stomach.

he holds it hostage in front of his body, just in front of his hips - and watches me with such a probing curiosity, my cheeks feel like they're steaming.

every part of me vibrates as i reach for it. i don't know what's making me so nervous. it's just putting a hat on his head. my attempt to tease him comes out in a mumble, "what? you scared you won't look handsome?"

yoongi tilts his head, the inquisitive stare bearing down on me makes the dining room shrink - trapping both of us inside of it.

"do you think i'm handsome?" his tongue pokes out of his mouth and he exhales a laugh while i smack him on the shoulder with one of my suit sleeves.

"you know i do fucker." the words tumble out of me without permission and all i can do is hope that i said them fast enough, and incoherently enough, for him to not understand.

he chuckles and turns a shoulder in a half-assed move, avoiding my half-assed blows. then he adjusts the giant sunhat, two pouty lips grin at me from underneath its brim. as soon as the plastic pipe tucks between them he asks, "to the movies?"

i push down on the fake mustache tickling under my nose, "indubitably."

i don't need to think about how handsome yoongi is or why he asked what i think or how going to the movies alone together kinda feels like a date. even if we're dressed like...well, kinda like if Holmes was having a gardening day and Watson lost all of the suits that fit him.

as we tug on our shoes, yoongi loses it over the fact that i only remembered to bring ankle boots. one red pointed toe sticks out from beneath the suit's pant leg.

"so stylish." he muses.

i trip over my own feet and ignore that he says this, "gimme your shoulder please."

yoongi smirks but dips one shoulder down slightly so i can place a hand on it for balance. once the most frustrating shoes in the world have been put back on, he casually reaches up to weave his fingers through mine.

he doesn't say anything about it, just stealthily moves towards his front door so he can stick one eye against the peephole. holding my hand as he does.

"Watson," he loudly whispers back at me, "i think this is broken." and i tear my eyes away from our intertwined hands.

in just as loud of a whisper i shoot back, "or maybe nobody's outside and we should move Holmes."

my hand is squeezed in response and i know i should help with being a lookout but, the way our fingers look together is doing something to the inside of my brain. something that makes it hard to breathe.

was his hand always so big?

it's like our hands lock together at the knuckles.

like they've both finally slid into place.

hey yoongi, did you know we're holding hands?

were you aware? that you held my hand and also are now holding it?

the objects of my fascination yank out of view as yoongi hurries us through the door and down the hall.

"go, go, go." he repeats the words under his breath and the dampness of his palm makes his nervousness a bit more blatantly apparent.

i match his pace.

he does this funny thing whenever he gets speedy - both arms lift up to his sides like a professional power walker. except this time as he does it, he doesn't let go of my hand.

so we power walk to the elevator at the end of the hall, side by side. neither of us say a word, aside from his looping "go, go, go" until the metal doors before us ding and we make it safely inside.

unseen.

well, no.

     we see ourselves in the reflection of the elevator doors and neither of us can keep our eyes open as we're hit with continuous rolls of laughter.

the mood sobers once a second ding lets us know that we've made it down to the parking garage.

now it's my turn to lead.

ok, it would be my turn to lead except - the moment that we walk by yoongi's car - he halts.

"look. look how safe and inside and fast we could get there with this instead. we live in a modern world, not the 1800's or whatever." he bounces as he whines and it's so cute that i physically feel a scream bloom within my chest.

i try my absolute hardest to appear unmoved.

with a tug on his hand i let out an exasperated sigh, "Holmes is basically from the 1900's. which - mind you - we were born in. AND, how will we know that the disguises work if we don't put them to the test? hm?"

i can't decipher all of the emotions in yoongi's expression, amused appears to be one of them at least. the ghost scent of jasmine wafts under my nose as i gaze at him. a nervousness restlessly attempts to settle itself in my pulse.

then yoongi stops hiding.

both shoulders curve forward as he sinks in on himself. silver-grey hair hangs over his face while he stares at the ground.

"i miss bein' a person." the words are spoken to the asphalt beneath our feet, they come out a little bitterly.

"i can't do things that make me...relate to people anymore. i can't do things like, like people do - you know? no, you don't." yoongi answers his own question, then takes a deep breath before he continues.

"i think i feel like a person around you and i'm grateful, i hope that isn't doubted but - who i am now can't...be a person. all the time." one shoe scuffs against the floor. he's wearing his favorite comfy Vans.

i know he put them on so i wasn't alone in wearing goofy shoes but, he still pulls the look off.

he chews on the plastic pipe, looking lost in thought - and even that he pulls off well.

i can't think of anything that feels right to say and it's not an optimal method but, i open my mouth with the hope that something good comes out of it.

"you're right. that i don't know what it's like but - um, but that's why this plan is so potentially perfect! we're just pretending to be wonky Holmes and Watson, so it doesn't count as real people time. is that bad? well uh, we can have someone follow us? in case it backfires or something?" i feel my voice pitch up, what feels like, a few octaves as i finish speaking.

a gummy smile beams out from under his sunhat before he pats the hood of his car twice. a man in a suit and dark sunglasses pops up in the drivers seat, the sudden appearance makes me yelp.

with buckled knees i hiss out, "are you fuckin' kidding me yoongi? you couldn't just tell me he was coming?" my grip around his hand tightens and i cling around his bicep.

yoongi just shrugs, "eh, it seemed like an opportunity to get closer. c'mon Watson." and he strides forward, like the conversation never happened at all.

the black car behind us feels off putting at first, but pretty soon, we're so engrossed in the roles that i forget all about it.

yoongi really loves the pipe. he nibbles on it between speaking as we tuck behind a wall.

"the lady in the red hat seems like a clue," he softly murmurs, "like a clue to something...mysterious."

my eyes narrow, "please never become a detective."

"oh i'm sorry sidekick. did you say something? something that undermines your lead detective?" he bickers back with a wiggle of his head. we keep up the petty argument as we trail behind the lady in the red hat until she turns away from the path to the theater.

"ok, well. she's no longer a suspect for now." yoongi clears his throat and my chance to retort disappears as soon as he see's a small group of young adults walking ahead of us, towards the direction of the theater.

with an unexpected quickness, yoongi squats down behind a garbage can - holding our hands on top of his knee.

"i'm out. this is so fuckin' stupid. not elementary, dear Watson. the opposite of elementary." he says this urgently but doesn't budge.

"we are two talking chins. that's all the world can see Holmes, and all we need to do is get snacks. then we're in the dark. and i'm buying! you don't even need to talk to anyone! you can just, i dunno - hide behind me." i don't know why i'm whispering.

"oh sure, i'm letting you buy." is scoffed into my face and i'm reminded of the first time we were introduced properly.

i jolt to my feet with renewed stubbornness, "gimme your card then. cause you know what isn't super sneaky? hiding behind, maybe the only, public trash can in the area. let's go, let's go, let's go."

yoongi makes an assortment of disgruntled sounds but stands up and shuffles to stand behind me. my left arm folds behind my back because we both silently refuse to let go of the other's hand.

"it looks like you're holding me hostage." i murmur back to him as we approach the theater.

hard plastic presses against my lower back and, "pew pew." rumbles against my ear.

yoongi keeps speaking, "huh, it's emptier than i expected."

i twist around to give him an impish stare.

"movie theater's typically are on tuesday morning's." i mimic his deadpan delivery and get a snorted laugh out of him.

we shuffle towards the concession stand, yoongi jokingly asks for popcorn and dodges the elbow i jab back at him.

fried chicken, a cherry-coke slushie and a bag of sour candy successfully acquired, we find our way over to theater room three. yoongi holds the first in one hand (because, "i don't trust you with my chicken.") and i balance the other two. our held hands remain threaded together.

"you better not throw any of these at me." i frown, struggling to force the candy bag into a suit pocket.

"does my hand bein' sweaty bother you?" yoongi bluntly asks and i trip up the first step towards our seat. usually, he likes to be up in the back and in the corner - out of sight, where it's easy to slip in or out if necessary. today, i want him to experience the Best Seats. mid-way up, directly in the center. that isn't the point but it's all i can let myself think.

i only realize i've been staring at him instead of responding when he tries to unclasp our hands.

"it doesn't! it doesn't!" i panic and squeeze my fingers around him. even in the dark room and under cover of his sunhat, pouty lips twitch up into a smile.

"if anyone else comes and i hafta pee these 'Best Seats' automatically lose three points." he chuckles and steps ahead of me. as we trudge up the steps, the pre-show clips rolling on the big screen sound like they're incredibly far away.

"oh sure, i'd expect a full house at 9am." the snicker at my sarcasm brings an unwanted blush across my face. he leads us to our seats while i stare at the floor, red cheeks hiding beneath my bowler hat.

chicken secured, slushie in it's rightful cup holder - we plop into the cushioned seats with budding excitement. i bounce a bit in my chair as i ramble about the Experience of going to the movies until he unlinks our fingers. the palm of my hand feels unbearably empty without his pressing against it but he doesn't let it go, he keeps it on the top of his thigh - wiping the other off against his tweed trench-coat.

"you may not mind but i don't want you holdin' a sweaty hand all day." yoongi states calmly.

the notion that he imagines holding hands outside of this movie scheme makes me choke on spit and i whip the slushie out of its holder to suck down icy cherry-coke. a freezing burn brings sweet relief from whatever the hell is buzzing through my bloodstream.

"you're so considerate." the words come out of me a bit strangled and yoongi wraps a warm hand around my throat. he jerks his chin up so that the sunhat flops back a bit, with a knowing look and one lifted eyebrow. then he casually remarks - "look at what you just did, not considering you stresses me out. of course i mean it in a good way, shush. better now?"

i nod dumbly as the freezer burn subsides. grateful for him and his warmth, and for the darkness that blankets us - equally infuriated at the screen lights for shining directly on our rosy pink faces.

as yoongi opens his mouth to speak again, the lights all fade to black. a booming voice throughout the otherwise empty theater informs us the show is about to begin.

my fingers twitch against his thigh and i feel my wrist turn without me telling it to. long digits push through mine before they curl around the knuckles. out of the corner of my eye, i watch him relax and spread both legs wide.

in a hushed voice i ask him, "D-Day, good day?"

soft lips push against the tops of my fingers before something's flung into my hair with a snort.

"D-Day, very good day."

[icewindandboringhorror]

sneepy cozy time....

[carbonateddelusion]

guess who literally just figured out that it's in a depressive episode. this guyy

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

This is like, the fifth time I’ve had someone say “you can’t even tell you own a cat” and I pointed out all my cat’s toys and stuff and they were like ��I mean it never smells bad in here” and I’m just confused? I can often tell when someone has dogs based on their house smell, but when I visit cat people a majority of them have normal smelling houses? I can only think of one instance that was different and they were fostering multiple cats and could only fit the litter boxes in the living room. Who are they visiting that have weird smelling houses? I’m legitimately confused? The only place that smells strong is the closet where his litter boxes are and they mostly just smell like litter dust. I wouldn’t say they smell like flowers, but if you keep up with the boxes it’s not that bad? Is this about marking things? There’s only ever been one cat who I couldn’t stop from doing that behavior and it was a senior in a house that wasn’t mine who’s home owner didn’t want to put stuff like cat trees on the main floor. Give them other ways of marking things (stuff to rub and scratch, especially near entrances and windows) and make them feel secure and they are way less likely to mark with piss? I’m not saying no cat is ever going to have that behavioral issue when provided with all the other options and stuff, but it’s way less likely. Most people I know don’t even deal with the piss marking. The two instances that come to mind involved parents who didn’t want to ruin their decor by having cat stuff in the more trafficked areas and didn’t like the cats themselves. If you don’t listen to the advice then it doesn’t have a chance of working. I have to stop myself before I infodump more about cat care. I’m just confused by the comments I’ve gotten from visitors.

[jrueships]

Admin: which teammate do you pick to cook your Thanksgiving dinner?

Alpey, who has brought his own baked goods for the team before; therefore, should have the most credibility and trust to be skilled in the kitchen: *happily suggests himself as the best option for jabari*

Jabari:

[depresseddepot]

god I cannot fucking wait to get out of here !

[sudokuplayer]

i'm so angry and heartbroken and i think this is all i will ever be

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[invisibleoctopus]

starting to think im a bard of void instead of being a knowledge class. i have the whole bardic crisis thing (oct 13 2013. sunday) the whole opposite aspect thing before that (Gifted Kid TM where part of my personality was bring smart. is very lightcore) and just how i seem to destroy everything i touch.

my aversion to lying and how terrible i am at it because its on a physical level in my body and i have to script it in advance (yes this is mostly autism) and not liking to keep secrets and being a blabbermouth. destroying void.

destroyed by void. getting FADED with weed. self isolation and most of my time being spent gaming or on the computer/phone. my awful terrible recurring dreams (dreams are void) that i have a fucking tag for. but the horrors have become almost mundane with how repetitive they are in my dreams and thats why i dont call them nightmares

[blurryface-bitch]

beginning to realize that I'd like her to be a domestic part of my life, not just a mundane one

and also realizing that even though I know where she fits in my life now, I don't know how I fit into theirs.

[zebrafiz]

#thinking about how weird it feels to have the career ive wanted my entire life actually be within my grasp now

[miesozernacma]

ive had enough of the people in this house

[bongsavior]

Man it sure is hard to exist these days

[apathyfairy]

the real question is why havent i killed myself yet

[jackass-jones]

The most validating thing about having a brother in law is sometimes I’ll make a comment about my parents being kinda horrible and he’ll just be like "DUDE FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT IVE BEEN THINKING THIS THE WHOLE TIME BUT DIDNT KNOW HOW TO ADDRESS IT"

[kleefkruid]

Guys, I had one of the weirdest 15 minutes of my life yesterday, as if some higher power put me in a jar and shook me around for a very short time and then let me out again.

But before I can tell the story I need to quickly make sure everyone has the context: Kotelet, the stray I took in had 2 bigger kittens and was super pregnant. These are the cutlets 1.0 and 2.0, you’ve mostly seen the second gen as they were born with me. But the two initial kittens went to Danny. They were very wild and we tried to socialize them, but in the process unfortunately one of them got out and was lost forever. This was way back in the beginning of August. The other kitten became Dietzel and recently Danny adopted one of the 2.0 gen to keep him company since we sadly never found the other kitten again… Okay keeping that in mind I can tell my story.

Yesterday around 2 I left my house to go to Danny. While waiting for my tram I was texting someone who is coming to adopt the last kitten. This combined with the nose cold I’ve been having made me a bit inattentive, and I got on the wrong tram. Not too big of a problem, bc this tram also travels close by Danny, I just had to walk one kilometer. A 15 minute walk. What could happen in that time right, I’ve done this route so often.

I get of the tram and I cross a bigger intersection. Open sky above me, as is typical for an intersection. Light goes green, I’m on the crosswalk. Suddenly, and with a loud slap, a pigeon drops dead on the ground in front of me.

I look at the pigeon. I look at the clear sky. I look back at the pigeon. I look back up. I notice the cables of the tram that go over the crosswalk, and realize it must have flown into the cables, and was killed by electrocution. At least it died instantly. Not a bad way to go for a pigeon. One moment it was going “weeeh I’m a bird”, next thing the lights went out.

The crosswalk light had turned red. Normally this would be immediately be followed by irritated honking, but as I make eye contact with the driver perpendicular to me, he also points at the cables and we exchange some “crazy right??” looks while I hurry to the side of the road.

“What’s it called again when people tell fortune by looking at birds?” I think, (it’s Ornithomancy) “the ancients Greeks did it, I remember it from the Odyssey… sure hope it’s not a bad omen!” I imagine a Greek augur predicting a war or whatever when a bird drops straight from the sky and someone going “is that bad?” I chuckle to myself, just a tiny bit nervous, and I continue my walk. Not long to go now.

“Pigeon dropped dead in front of me” I triple text Danny “Crazy. Electrocuted by the tram infrastructure. Super dead in an instance.”

A neighborhood cat cheerfully walks by me. I automatically lean down to pet it, can’t cross a friendly cat without saying hi! It’s a teenage tuxedo.

WAIT.

The cat looks at me. It has a little white moustache. It starts sniffing my boots like crazy.

Could it be…

Squatting on the sidewalk, I go in my pictures folder and frantically search for pictures of the cutlets 1.0 The cat leans against me. I find a picture where the kitten has a distinctive black mark on the back of its otherwise white socks. I stare down.

On the back of its legs it has a distinctive black mark.

“You got to be kidding me” I say. “Sniff sniff” says the cat. He headbutts me again.

I am 350 meters from Danny’s door. Obviously I don’t have anything with me. A car drives close by. I gotta do something, so I pick him up. And he lets me. And I just start walking.

After a 100 meters, he wants to go down again, so holding him in a sitting position, I grasp his hind legs with one hand, like they hold wild birds when ringing them, and my other arm goes across him to squeeze him against my chest and I hold his front paws. He meows a little and bites me so very lightly. He just kinda presses his teeth against my skin to communicate he’s not impressed by my action, but that’s all. He’s still pretty tiny after all.

I ring the doorbell, and Danny buzzes me in. “Bring a carrier!” I yell trough the speaker. “What?? Why??” “Just come down!”

He opens te door and looks confused. “Is that Kotelet??” is his first question, as they look alike. “No, try again” I say. Now Danny’s eyes go wide. “No. It’s not possible…”

It’s been more than 3 months. Danny just starts crying out of shock. I start laughing. Both losing it in different ways about the absurdity of the situation.

We’re in Danny’s living room. The little guy is eating all the wet food he can and promptly passes out. We just stare at him. The other cats are peeking in from the bedroom. I look at its white paws, all grey from the street. He purrs. We sit in silence, kind of forgetting to blink.

“Did you see my text about the pigeon that dropped dead in front of me.”