#i think i will take him into my work (vet clinic) tomorrow and get a urinalysis at least but there's not really much you can do about a

[iscariotapologist]

i'm not usually one to make prayer requests but can you guys please pray for my cat reese and for me also because i'm losing my mind and hours of sleep over something that might be nothing but i'm scared anyway. thanks

[orions-choker]

Animals (Werewolf! James Hetfield x Reader Fluff)

Werewolf! James Hetfield, Fluff, Domestic moments.

Word Count: 3,770

Reader works at a vet clinic, just when she's sure she has seen it all come through those doors she's met with the oddest looking wolf she's ever seen. (Cross posted to AO3)

This is a very quick and probably not fantastic Werewolf James fluff. I just had this silly idea in my head and wanted to write it down quickly so apologies this isn't the best thing I've ever written <3

Being a veterinarian in a rural town meant one saw a lot of odd things. Coming through those doors were sometimes wild deer, cows, hawks, owls, you name it. However Y/N had never treated a wolf before, let alone a wolf quite so big.

“How did you say you found this guy?” She asked, concern in her voice as she pet across the animals side gently, simultaneously soothing the creature and searching for any egregious wounds hidden in the thick fur. It was breathing shallowly, hardly conscious as it lay across her cold examining table.

The old farmer standing in the room with her shrugged, the smell of his chewing tobacco fragrant in the air as his teeth clacked together. “Laying in the ditch just down the road ere’” His twang was a little thicker than her own, though she understood him easily enough. “Seemed pretty beat up. unno’ I figured I should bring him in.”

She nodded slowly, leaning over to pry the beast's eyes open gently, she watched as the pupils slowly followed her movements, a good sign. Aside from that she noticed its eyes were strikingly blue, captivating in an odd way. “Thank’s Kenny, we’ll take care of him from here, get home it's getting late.” She dismissed him kindly. Y/N stood up, turning her back to the table to grab IV supplies.

Kenny, the farmer, grunted in acknowledgment, shutting the door to the examination room behind him. The heavy thud of his boots grew distant until she could no longer hear them. She turned around, holding the small needle attached to the drip bag in her hands. “C’mon boy, let's get you feeling better.” She smiled sweetly.

It was some hours later that Y/N had found the cause, luckily no serious wounds but a fractured leg and some slight malnutrition. Poor guy looked like he had been abandoned by his pack. With the bandage wrapped around the offending leg she pulled the wheeling bed outside. It took three members of staff to gently move the sedated wolf into one of their outside kennels for wild animals.

Y/N grunted as she clicked the gate close, pulling on the lock. “We’ll keep an eye on him for a bit, maybe get in touch with a rehabilitation center.” She huffed out to one of her techs. Dusting her hands off on her scrubs. “Odd looking wolf though don't you think?” She asked, looking over the hulking mass of dusty blonde fur.

“Yeah, maybe it's part albino?” Her vet tech supplied with a shrug, following after her into the building once more.

By the time she had finished cleaning up and completing the necessary paperwork it was near midnight. Y/N had long since sent the rest of the staff home, assuring them she could close up here by herself. She decided to do one last set of rounds, checking on all the current patients she had, her final stop being the wolf. To her surprise he was awake.

“Hey buddy, how are you feeling?” She asked sweetly, crouching down in front of the cage he was sitting in. The wolf eyed her curiously, unmoving from the spot it lay in, on top of a soft but old and worn blanket. “Still a little dazed huh? I’ll be back tomorrow okay?” She smiled with a tilt of her head. Its blue eyes followed her movements as she got back up to her feet, slowly turning and walking away.

Y/N couldn’t help but think of the creature all night, a mixture of curiosity and concern for its well being. Truly nothing could have prepared her for a wolf that big, despite the clear signs of undereating, she shuddered to think what it looked like when properly taken care of. She likened it to something like a fictional dire wolf.

In her dreams were those blue eyes watching her, and a boy, her age with wild blonde hair. Prophetic dreams weren’t her strong suit so by the time the sun crested the hills and woke her with its gently warm rays, she had forgotten about it.

The wolf was her first stop that day, a hunk of raw meat in her hands as she approached the enclosure. She noticed the way its large ears perked up, its nose high in the sky as it sniffed out the blood in the air. A good sign, it was still interested in eating.

“Hey boy.” She sang, stepping towards the metal bars. “How are you doing this morning, hungry?” She asked, holding the meat out between the bars with a pair of tongs. “Think you can try walking over here?” She hoped to gauge how bad the injured leg was.

It seemed annoyed? Giving her an almost comical side eye and pathetic snarl before slowly raising itself up. The steps it took towards her were slow, but unwavering, no wobbles or winces of pain. “That's a good boy.” She praised him gently. It prodded at the meat gently with its nose before opening its large jaws and snapping at the food.

The entire chunk was gone in a matter of seconds, the wolf devouring it like it hadn’t eaten in months. Y/N frowned. “You poor thing, there's more where that came from kay?” She watched with curious eyes as it licked at its lips, seemingly satisfied. Slowly it pressed its face to the bars, eyes wide and pitiful as it looked up at her.

Y/N was almost convinced, just for a moment, that this predator was nothing more than a big puppy. “Aww buddy, I can’t give you pets, you'll bite my hand off.” She shook her head at him. It whined at her slowly, as if it could understand the words she was saying. She frowned, looking down to the ground, spotting a stick laying by her feet.

Quickly she picked it up, reaching forward with it to scratch gently between the wolf's large ears. “That's the best I can do dude.” She chuckled, watching the way its tail thumped against the ground happily. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit, keep yourself entertained.” She tossed the stick into the enclosure, the wolf's jaws snapping around it in an impressive catch. She stared in bewilderment before shaking her head and walking away.

“Do you think there's any chance in hell that this thing is some kind of wolf dog?” Y/N asked her team as she entered the building. “I might be going crazy but it seems domesticated.” She frowned, sitting down at her desk chair.

One of the fellow vets stared at her like she had grown a second head. “I've seen wolf dogs before, they’re smaller than a normal wolf, not bigger than them.” He said, placing a cup of coffee down in front of Y/N. “That thing is not domesticated I can promise you that, please dont get any funny ideas and try to cuddle the fucking thing.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at that, taking a sip of the warm drink as she leaned forward. “I have a couple more brain cells than that, but seriously it seemed like it wanted pets and to play fetch?” She frowned, placing her elbows on the desk before her. “I wonder if some crazy person tried domesticating a pup and left it in the wild when they realized it wasn’t going to work.”

“Hmm possible I guess, but I think you’re just reading too much into it.”

He was probably right. Y/N sighed and shook her head. The rest of her day was terribly uneventful, which she supposed was good, less hurt animals was always a good thing. Still she couldn't shake the feeling of boredom. She had no excuse for staying late tonight but she did anyway.

Bidding farewell to the last receptionist she closed the door, turning the deadbolt before making her way to the back door that led out to the yard. The other enclosures were empty save for the final one at the end. Flashlight in hand she approached once more with an offering to the beast.

“You awake boy?” She called out as she rounded the corner. As she laid eyes upon the contents of the cage her flashlight and tongs clattered to the ground. The beam of the light still illuminated the inside and like a spotlight drew the attention to the boy that sat there. Naked, a loose bandage falling from his leg. Messy blonde locks and piercing blue eyes. “What the fuck.” She mumbled.

There was a sheepish smile on his face as he sat there, staring up at Y/N. His legs were crossed, hands placed to hide his more intimate parts. “Sorry, I can explain.” His voice was raspy, gruff but a little boyish. The next startling thing aside from this man suddenly sitting before her, was the fact this man also had a large set of protruding wolf's ears atop his head, and a huge tail that thumped against the ground just as the beast here before had.

Y/N was truly at a loss for words, standing frozen before the scene unfolding. “What. The. Fuck.” She finally managed to force out, taking a hesitant step backwards. Her eyes scanned over the enclosure for any signs of the animal she had come out here to see in the first place. “Who are you? How did you get in there?” She sputtered out. “I’m James.” He helpfully informed her, his ears laid flat against his head as he heard the panic in his voice. “You put me in here.” He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Ahh man, how do you explain lycanthropy to someone.”

She blinked hard, was that supposed to be a joke? She scoffed “I know perfectly well about fucking werewolves.” her eyebrows furrowing. As much as she wanted to assume this was some horrible practical joke her staff was playing on her, she couldn’t deny the literal dog-like features he held. “Are you seriously telling me I was treating a werewolf and now I have a whole man locked up in the back of my vets office?”

The boy, James, that was his name. James' awkward smile returned. ‘Yeah I guess that's the gist of it.” A shiver ran over his bare body. “Hey you wouldn’t happen to have some clothes or something? It's kind of cold out here.”

Which is how she ended up with a half naked boy, wrapped up in a thick blanket in the passenger seat of her beat up 1980 Chevette. The hum of the radio being the only sound filling the tense car. “I think I have my dads old clothes in storage.” Y/N mumbled, eyes trained on the road ahead, hands stiff on the steering wheel.

James hummed awkwardly in acknowledgment. “Thank you again.” He drummed his fingers against the fabric of the blanket covering his thighs. She could see him staring at her from the corner of her eyes. His big blue puppy dog eyes seemingly admiring her like she was a hero.

Pulling into her garage Y/N shut the car off quickly. Waiting until the door shut behind them before opening the car door. She didn’t need any of her neighbors seeing her bring a strange naked dog boy back home. “You can come inside.” She mumbled awkwardly, pushing open the door that led into the main section of her home.

She didn’t need to tell him that, James had already been following her closely. Right on her heels. His blanket dragged behind him as he shuffled into the house.She frowned at him. “You know I think you could stand to have a shower too.” She could see the blanket moving wildly as his tail began wagging once more. “Over here,” She sighed.

Y/N gestured to the door leading to her bathroom. She shoved James inside gently, grabbing a towel from her linen closet. “Come out when you're done I should hopefully have some clothes for you.” She pushed the towel into his hands, ignoring the blush that rose to her cheeks as he smiled widely at her.

Quickly she backed out of the room as he began to drop the blanket covering him, pulling the door shut with a loud slam. Her chest heaved as she attempted to calm down her erratic breathing. While he had seemed like a well domesticated dog he certainly wasn’t a house trained human. Or maybe he was just like that.

The sound of the water heater humming to life and water pattering against the tile was her cue to find James some real clothes. She rummaged around in the back of her closet until she found something that looked approximately the right size. James was tall, big but lean just like the wolf had been, so she opted for some shorts over jeans and a plain loose fitting t-shirt. This would have to do for now.

Collecting the clothes in her arms she shuffled back into her living room, tossing them unceremoniously onto her couch. The sound of running water still echoed distantly down the hall so she took the moment to sit and contemplate.

She had treated a wolf, put the wolf outside, came back a day later to find a man there instead, and then brought the man home with her. The more she replayed the events in her mind the more it seemed completely unfathomable. She sat there, head hung low, hands tugging at her hair as she tried to rationalize it.

The house fell silent as the shower shut off. Her eyes drifted upwards at the sound of wet footsteps padded down the hall towards her. James rounded the corner, towel hung low around his waist, droplets of water running from his soaked hair down his lean chest and abdomen. Fuck, he was hot too wasn’t he. Y/N audibly groaned, tossing her head back against the couch.

“You okay?” He asked cautiously, walking forward to grab the pile of clothes from beside her. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as James dropped the towel from his waist without a second thought. She waited until she no longer heard the ruffling of clothes before opening them again. The shorts were a little too short on him but otherwise everything fit just fine. “Y/N?”

“How do you know my name?” She asked curiously, she was positive she had not given him the courtesy of her name when they had their first introductions. She watched him as he moved to sit next to her on the couch, he grabbed the towel, using it to roughly dry his hair. Noticeably his ears and tail seemed to be gone now. “What's with the whole; wolf, half wolf half man, full man, thing you have going on?”

James smiled at her, yeah, yeah he was really cute. “It was on your nametag the other day.” He explained. He leaned back, body relaxing into the soft cushions on the couch. “Also that much is a little hard to explain, It’s just what my body does, you wouldn't try to explain the process of blood pumping in your veins to someone.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “That's hardly a good analogy.” She complained. She liked hard concrete answers, not wishy-washy bullshit. “It doesn't matter they don't train you for this thing in vet school.” She pulled her legs up onto the couch, resting her head atop her knees as she looked towards him. “Explain what led you here, why were you injured on the side of the road, why haven't you been eating?”

There was a hesitation in his eyes, silence following for a long moment. Gulping hard the blond finally spoke. “I got kicked out by my dad a couple years ago while I was still a teenager, I was couch surfing for awhile but I figured I needed to start fresh.” He seemed tense as he spoke. “Easier to cross the country on four legs rather than two, accidentally encroached on some guy's territory and got my shit kicked in, it had been a few weeks since I ate properly after that.”

“Are you hungry then?” Y/N asked sympathetically, feeling it wasn't her place to pry into the details of that story. She stood up from the couch, moving to the kitchen. James followed her closely, she didn’t comment on it. “Want some cold leftover pizza?” She hummed, throwing the door to her fridge open and rummaging around.

James peaked down at her from over the open door, excitement in his eyes as he nodded enthusiastically. “Thank you.” He eagerly took the pizza box from her hands, ripping it open to shovel the remaining slices into his mouth. “God Y/N, you’re the best.”

She couldn’t help the blush that stained her skin. She wasn’t sure what came over her next as she spoke. “Need a place to crash for a couple days?” The offer was out before she could take it back. Though at the way his eyes brightened, looking towards her, she was glad she offered.

“Are you really cool with that?” He asked around a mouthful of pizza.

Y/N sighed, defeated. “What can I say, I like helping out injured animals.” She joked lightly. Her heart fluttered at the way James cracked a smile at her. “I hope you don’t shed.”

–

A few days turned into a few weeks, weeks to a month. Truthfully she wasn’t keeping track anymore. She hated to admit it but she was lonely. Coming home each day to someone so eager to see her was definitely improving her overall quality of life.

James waited around eagerly for her every day, lounging across her sofa, usually half clothed. His presence in her home came in the form of old skate shoes by the front door, a guitar hanging above her bed, his dirty jeans and shirts piled in the corner of the bathroom each day. It felt more lived in.

“James!” She called out. She could hear the distant chattering of the t.v in the living room, a clattering of dishes alerting her to his location. She shuffled into the kitchen, body slumped over in exhaustion.

He eyed her worriedly as she came into view, quickly placing his plate down against the counter and coming to place a hand on her shoulder. “Long day?” He asked gruffly. A frown situated itself on his face.

Y/N nodded, leaning her head against his chest. “That's an understatement.” She groaned. “I think I might be in need of some doggy cuddles.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. This had become a routine for them now, she had not only gained a roommate, but also a big fluffy pet to ease her sorrows on the worst of days.

Beneath her she could feel James’s body stiffen lightly, the hand he had placed on her shoulder gripping tighter. Curiously she peered up at him, their eyes meeting and she could feel the anxiety pouring from him. “Can I just…give you regular cuddles today?” He asked slowly, like the question would burn him if he spit it out too fast.

That was a boundary that hadn’t been crossed before. Not to say she hadn’t thought of it, truly she didn’t really know what the difference would be. She was lying next to him no matter what. Still she could feel the amount of courage it took for him to ask. Her eyes twinkled and she nodded softly. “Yeah that works too.” She grabbed his large hand within her own, and pulled him behind her to the bedroom.

James had taken up residence on her couch but that didn’t mean he hadn’t become well acquainted with her room. It was one of his favorite places to nap, completely overwhelmed by her scent and enveloped in the warmth of her trinkets and decorations. Of course he was always invited onto the bed when he chose to present as his wolf.

Y/N rolled onto the bed, letting out a comforted sigh. James enthusiastically crawled beside her. Their bodies gravitated towards each other like magnets, Y/N settling into the comforting embrace of his strong arms. He was big enough to fully envelop her with his body. She felt safe and hidden from the world like this.

“Thank you.” She rolled over, her back to his chest as she nestled her head against his arm using it as a pillow. “We lost some patients today.” Her voice wavered as she recounted the events of the day to James. “I just wanted to come home and cry.”

Her body was pulled back, bringing her tighter against James’s strong chest. His nose pressed to the top of her head. “M’sorry.” He soothed her gently rubbing her arms. “You can cry if you want to.” He assured her.

Y/N shook her head gently, taking in a deep shaky breath before speaking. “No, I think I’m okay now.” She tilted her head back to catch a glimpse of his face. Her hand reaching up, fingers gently tracing over the scarring across his cheeks. She thought it was cute, but she knew he didn’t feel the same. “Funny just being around you seems to make me feel better.”

Leaning into her touch, He smiled down at her. “Aren't you glad you saved me.” He joked lightly. Though it was true, he wasn’t sure he would have had the will to go on much longer had he not been brought into Y/N’s clinic.

“Every day.” She returned the smile. Her words filled with a sincerity that James wasn’t used to. His hair stood on end as an unfamiliar feeling swirled in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly Y/N yawned, her body straightening out as she stretched her limbs. “I think it's nap time.” She mumbled. Dropping her head back down she closed her eyes. “I’ll make dinner later.”

James nodded, reaching down with a free hand to pull the blankets over them. “A nap seems good.” He grunted out, trying to still the excitement building inside him. It threatened to boil over at how pleasantly domestic it felt to lay next to her. His mind whirled with hundreds of things he desperately wanted to blurt out.

Her body went slack in his hold. The rhythmic movement of her chest as she breathed falling in sync with his own. He decided his eager professions of love could wait until after she woke up.

[dragons-and-misc]

a lot has happened over the past few months.

tw: animal death, depression

TL;DR:

Was real depressed, failed a course

Got a chance to make up for failed course, passed

Got real depressed again, failed another course

Fought it, passed the course

My cat died

Started a co-op placement

Feelin' weird today

-----

I failed a course in my bachelor's program because I was going through a depressive episode. It was right around the time I started most of my blogs on here. I just... couldn't keep up with anything. I was gone to the world, and being here was a beautiful respite. My spouse was (and still is) beautifully supportive, and I'm so thankful I have them.

But I got the chance to make up for it. I got an extra assignment (on top of the course load for the next semester), and I managed to pass. The extreme high of passing and knowing I was still in my program was met with another crash. Another episode. I was gone to the world again, but I was too embarrassed and sad to post anywhere. I don't remember much from my winter 2023 semester, just that I wasn't... here, you know? I wasn't in my body. I was somewhere else.

I failed another course, but this time, I fought it. It was law (why they made us take a law course in a design program, I'll never know), and I failed by 2%. I fought. I was so fucking angry and distressed, but the prof relented. I can't go into the details of it. I'll just get mad. Suffice to say, I'm glad I passed.

I got a co-op placement. I was overjoyed. Things were looking up. I had a week between the end of my winter semester and my 8-month placement starting.

My semester ended on April 21st. I saw a friend on the 22nd. On the 23rd, my cat didn't get up for breakfast. He just laid on the couch, raised his head, and set it back down. I should've taken that as a sign something was very wrong, but I brushed it off. My spouse fretted over him (an understatement, I assure you).

He hadn't really eaten anything by the 24th. We took him to the emergency vet.

The 24th, 25th, and 26th were a mess. The poor thing was in and out of three clinics - two emergency and our regular vet's office. I slept on the floor with my kitten. I barely ate. I tried to be nonchalant. Of course my baby was fine - he just wanted to freak us out. He'd done it before, and we'd all come out of it alright. My spouse was anxious, and I couldn't blame them.

On the night of the 26th, I finally let myself descend into worry. I asked my spouse, "You think he's gonna be okay... right?" 

They reassured me. He was going to be okay. He was being monitored, and his condition was taking a turn for the better. He was going to come home tomorrow. I was so confident that everything would be okay that I saw a friend on the 27th.

It was mid-to-late afternoon when my spouse called me. I thought maybe it was time to pick up my cat.

I remember saying, "Hey honey, what's up?" They were quiet for just a second, and then I heard a choking sob. I knew. I knew. I knew. They didn't have to say it. I knew. I couldn't move. The friend I was with called my name once. Twice. I was frozen. I knew. I knew. I knew.

Kidney failure. He wasn't going to make it, and we weren't going to let him suffer. We rushed to the vet's office. Our friend stayed with us the whole time. When he was brought into the room, we all knew it was time.

I'm grateful that I got to hold him as he passed. I held him in my arms, repeating, "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you."

It's been 4 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days since my kitten died. A family member warned me not to ritualize his death - that it would only make it harder to find peace. They're right. I don't care. I want to know how long I've been without him. One day, I won't need to know. But right now, I do.

I started my co-op placement on Monday, May 1st. I spent 4 hours commuting (2 hours to work and 2 hours to home) for the first 3ish months. I was exhausted all the time. I would get up at 5:30 am, leave the house at 6:00 am, come home at 6:00 pm - 6:30 pm, and be asleep by 7:30 pm - 8:00 pm.

I started to work from home in late July (thank fucking gods). I get up a half hour before I'm supposed to start most days. I'm still tired, but not as much.

I like my placement. I like the work, I like my coworkers. I like what I do. If I hadn't had this structure, I would have toppled harder into the abyss. I only cried at my desk a few times, and I think only one person picked up on it (and only once). I don't think I would have done anything rash, but the summer months would have been lost.

I miss my kitten. I dream about him from time to time. I won't dig deep into my spiritual beliefs in this post, but I know he's visited. I know it's him in the dreams where he presses his forehead to mine. I know that when I tell him, "I know, buddy, I missed you too," it's not just a subconscious form of coping.

I can't remember him very well when I'm awake. Sometimes, it feels like we never had two cats, just one. I have difficulty remembering where he would curl up or the sound of his meow. When he first passed, I thought I saw him everywhere. Now, it's all fuzzy around the edges.

But when I dream, I see him healthy and happy. He's firm. He's here.

Sorry. This is the part that's been sticking with me the most. Maybe it's because losing him was so recent. Maybe because I just... can't remember much between October 2022 and April 2023.

Good things have been happening, too.

I've been learning Blender (though I don't think I've drawn anything for the past month and a half). My spouse and I have had beautiful days together. I've seen friends. Thanks to my co-op being paid, we've gotten some things we've needed for a long time.

I read a lot of r/NoSleep on Reddit. It makes me want to write again. I got Tears of the Kingdom and decided to go for 100% on this run. I got Portal 1 and 2 on my switch - I beat Portal 2 for the first time a couple of weeks ago (god, it's a good game). I was playing DnD with an old friend, but work got in the way. I think I'll be able to pick up again soon, though.

I dream of my kitten.

I'm feeling empty today. Well, not exactly empty. My head is a jar with a hornet inside. I can't focus on anything, and I feel like I'm vibrating, but I can't bring myself to move. I don't feel sad, but I don't feel happy. I guess I'm anxious.

This is a lot. And it's really just a stream of consciousness at this point. I dunno. I'm still going to post this and repost it to my other blogs (DiscoBrainRot and MightBeArt), but it might all get deleted at some point. I dunno.

Anyways. I hope I come back to posting more. Hopefully soon. I hope to get back to drawing and share some of the stuff I'm doing in Blender. I can't make any promises, but I can try.

A lot has happened over the past few months. I'm tired. But I'm okay. Or I will be.

And that's enough.

[mostlyihyperfixate]

another update; at least you're not a captive audience.

So Emmett got to go back to the vet again today. It took him a long time to wake up this morning. Like, he didn't even lift his head. It was pretty scary. Got a bunch of fancy cat food stuff from the grocery store in the hopes I could tempt him with any of it. No go. I did manage to give him a few crumbles of chicken like I was giving him pills, but that was it.

I mean, he still seemed a little more active. Like, he did leave when he got sick of me feeding him. He wandered around a bit. He squirmed like crazy when he got nabbed to get a bolus. But he hasn't eaten anything of his own volition since Sunday.

And the vet we saw today just doesn't know. She did all of his bloodwork again; she took X-rays again. Everything is fine. This time, they did take some urine. But it, like his bloodwork, was "pretty boring." His heart is still fine. His lungs are still fine. His X-ray shows that his bladder isn't a concerning size, and it showed that he has, in fact, had a bowel movement since his last one.

I'm not sure if he still has a temperature or not. He didn't feel so warm to me, but I can't really trust that. This vet didn't say.

So I got to drive him to a different location for the same clinic to get an ultrasound. Literally the only thing this vet could find was that maybe the left side of colon looks a little weird. But she doesn't even know for sure if it does, and she says she doubts he has a foreign object in there because his stomach feels soft to the touch, and he doesn't hate being touched there anymore than usual, and there's no visual sign that he's got something.

I don't know what he could have swallowed. And I keep thinking, a tumor isn't a foreign object, is it?

I had to leave him at the vet, because I have an hour-ish commute to work, and we had set a temporary orders hearing for a divorce this afternoon. Since my boss has been cool enough to let me use this other time for taking care of my cat, I wasn't about to ask if someone else could handle the hearing today.

Major Seymour flashbacks.

Thankfully, the hearing didn't even happen. Everyone came to a short agreement. It took about 45 minutes all in all, and then I got some stuff for a job I took a couple weeks go scanned and printed, and then I headed home.

But they haven't called to give me the okay to pick up Emmett...

I know he was a work in. I know it takes about 30 to 45 minutes for the anesthesia to wear off. I know that actually this clinic isn't even reading the ultrasound, and I won't have an results from it until tomorrow at the earliest. I keep trying to remind myself that ultrasounds are not an invasive procedure, and Emmett is young, and apparently otherwise completely healthy. He should not pass on from this.

All the same, it's tough not to worry that I'm going to get the call that he's got cancer all over again.

He's also getting some appetite stimulant. If he doesn't start eating by tomorrow morning, I get to take him back for a feeding tube.

This is not the fun kind of deja vu.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

[Rach: Why didn’t you get his number?] Iris: The entire conversation was five minutes. He was gone before I even thought about it. Besides, I spent half the time talking to his dog. He probably thought I was a weirdo.

[Rach: If he’s a dog person, he probably loved it.] Iris: Who knows. [Rach: Do you think you’ll run into him again?] Iris: Doubt it. I’m here almost every morning and I’ve never seen him before. He was just in the area for the vet clinic.

[Rach: Hmm. So, in theory, if you do see him again, it’s because he’s hoping to run into you.] Iris: [scoffs] Yeah, I’m not gonna hold my breath.

Iris: Shit. [Rach: What?] Iris: He’s here. What do I do? [Rach: Um, hang up the phone and go say hi?] Iris: Right. Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.

Iris: Hi. Ezra: Good morning. Iris: How’d Milo’s appointment go? Ezra: Great, he got a clean bill of health. More importantly, you were right about the biscuits, he was very happy. Iris: [smiles] Good.

Barista: What can I get for you? Ezra: An oat milk latte… and whatever she’s having. Iris: Oh, um, a macchiato.

Iris: Why did you do that? Ezra: It’s just a thing I do sometimes, buying coffee for the person behind me. Iris: [skeptical] Why?

Ezra: [shrugs] To brighten their day, and hope they’ll pay it forward. Iris: Making the world a better place, one coffee at a time? Ezra: Something like that.

Iris: You should be careful about that. Ezra: How so? Iris: You might give someone the wrong impression. You don’t want them thinking you’re interested if you’re not.

Ezra: I’ll admit, I am usually more discreet about it than I was today. Iris: Oh? Ezra: I have some time before I have to be to work. I was thinking about grabbing a table outside and enjoying the nice weather if you’d like to join me. Iris: Um… sure. I have about thirty minutes to spare. Ezra: I’ll take it.

--

Iris: So, what do you do, Ezra? Ezra: I’m a teacher. Brindleton Bay High. Iris: [sarcastic] Go Huskies. Ezra: [laughs] Right.

Iris: Did you go to that school? Ezra: No, I just moved here a few years ago. Iris: That’s good. I don’t trust people who choose to work at the same high school they went to. Ezra: Why’s that?

Iris: Too many memories. Seems you’d be haunted by the past every time you walked down the halls. Personally, I don’t think I could ever step foot in that building again. Ezra: You were a husky? Iris: [nods] Born and raised in the Bay. Ezra: There are worse places.   Iris: I suppose.

Iris: What do you teach? Ezra: Biology. Tenth Grade. Iris: Yikes. Must be awful. Ezra: You’d think so, but I love it.  

Iris: Hm. Tell me, do you still make kids dissect frogs? Ezra: Every year. Iris: Horrific. Ezra: Let me guess, you were one of the students that refused, taking a moral stance?

Iris: Oh, I didn’t just refuse, I organized a protest. Got half the school to walk out. We were on the local news. Ezra: You were quite the activist. Iris: Hardly. I was just bored. And I was trying to get the attention of a boy I liked who happened to be vegan.

Ezra: Did it work? Iris: It did, for a while. Ezra: What happened? Iris: He caught me devouring a hamburger at the mall with my friends. Turns out I’m not cut out for the long con.

Ezra: I’d say that’s a good thing. Unless you’ve improved since then? Iris: No. I gave up on lying. It’s exhausting. If anything, I’m too honest. People don’t like it, but [shrugs]. Ezra: I like honesty. Iris: Me too.

Iris: Shit, you get oat milk in your latte. You’re not vegan, are you? Ezra: No, just lactose intolerant. Iris: Thank god. Not that I’d care if you were, but I have a habit of saying the wrong thing and I worried I’d embarrassed myself. Ezra: No no, not at all.

Iris: Good. Well, um, thank you for the coffee. I have to go or I’m going to be late for work. Ezra: Wait, you didn’t tell me what you do. Iris: I guess we’ll have to do this again tomorrow then. That is, unless you’re secretly married, in which case, I’m not interested in some weird coffeeshop affair. Ezra: [laughs] No. Divorced, and very much single.

Iris: In that case, if tomorrow goes well, I might let you ask me out on a proper date.

[cryptfile]

Hii!! Can I request frenchie from the boys x f! reader, maybe she's patching him up after a long day? <33

yes,,, thank you for this from the bottom of my heart, might went above with what you actually asked, but whatever, i’m living my best and just rolling with it.

⟢ mountains at midnight, [ frenchie x f!reader ]

summary — After a failed relationship, Serge knocks on your door half baked / half bleeding-to-fucking-death.

warnings — angst, some smooches, it's implied that reader is in her twenty-somethings, filthy mouth, frenchie is in loOOoOve here, some fighting, fluff in the end, usual the boys content aka violence, blood, drugs, mentions of murder, infinite sadness, if you’re a medic you might hate me, little nina is a warning herself.

side notes — hi lovely people on the internet! first things first: i've recasted frenchie to dev patel cause fuck zionists, also loved writing for frenchie, been writing about gen v on wattpad but this? a whole different level. word's on the street my ass latin, so you know now english is not my first language and if there's any mistakes is my own fault being just a girlie out here,, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated and very much loved! thank you guys so much for the support.

It’s way too late when you hear the knocks on your door.

You’re not used to receive visitors in the middle of the night. Your friends know you hate people to show up uninvited so it’s almost a non-spoken arrangement: You sell the weed to afford med school and they keep you out of trouble.

So you can’t stop yourself from thinking the absolute worst when you hear the noise in your front door, already cursing cause you don't have these expensive cameras that allows you to watch who's outside: What if the police knows you’re selling weed? Worse. What if Vought discovered all about your nice ability of astral projection? Just the thought of it makes you grab the bat, trying to find something to defend yourself with as if it’s going to work against someone as powerful as Homelander.

When you open the door, it’s something similar to seeing a ghost.

Cause that's what Frenchie is to you. A fever dream you must experience after being so tired, after exhausting yourself with the damn residency. You've been doing turns lately in the hospital and you are drained all the fucking time, too many hours standing and trying not to fuck it up it’s now passing you the check.

But when he talks. Jesus fucking Christ, when he talks, you just know it's him in the flesh, stopping the world for a minute — "Bonne nuit," he says all normal like you understand more than just the basics of French. "Long time no see, mon ami."

How does he still remembers your address? How did he managed to get to your apartment when you explicitly said you don't want him anywhere near you? Your heart skips a beat when you're realizing the blood covering his shirt, the dirt on his skin, the bruise forming in his eye: he's injured.

It makes sense soon after, why he's there outside your place, surpassing the locks that protected the building and are supposed to keep people like him out yet, failed miserably. You let out a scoff, taking mental notes of talking about security to the building manager tomorrow.

"You need to go to a hospital, there's also a vet clinic a couple’ blocks away, both do the work" It's tempting. The thought of closing the door in his face after he was a complete asshole with you last time you saw him, but you cannot bring yourself to be cruel, to leave him standing while he seeks for somebody to stitch him up. — "Told you not to come here, Frenchie."

He's different now. He has now cut his hair in a different way, split lip while he pouts like he has loose a huge fight. He looks better, more composed even, but you don't let it slip while you look at him, debating if he won the fight he was involved in or if he just managed to escape, as usual, always in danger.

"Please," he says placing his hand in the door frame like he just read your mind, preventing you from closing the door. "Need your help, mon docteur."

When he looses balance you know shit's for real, quickly grabbing him by the waist as you take one of his hands to place it in your shoulder. He smells like blood, sweat, and weed, and it takes a minute for you to get used to it, being so intense at first when you hold him close to you that it stays with you even when you help him lay in the couch, already knowing it's going to be stained forever.

Fuck's sake. It's not physically possible to say no to him.

You hate him from the moment he's inside. Hate how he has you now all stressed looking for everything you need to prevent him from bleeding out on your couch, still trying to understand if you're worried about his well being or if it's actually about the fact that he could die in your apartment with good grams of weed well hidden, leading you to arrest under micro-trafficking and possible murder charges.

And when you see the large cut on his stomach, you know exactly why you guys didn't work out in the first place, why his way of living was so different than yours trying to keep a low profile, not used to get in trouble with superheroes, usually surviving. You hold your breath in as you notice the situation, his body bruised, blood spread all over like it was a medal.

“The person who did this didn’t do any harm to your organs” you say inspecting, lucky bastard. “But you're gonna’ need stitches.”

"See? I’m gonna' be fine, docteur" he says almost trying to keep you steady while you took the new-moon-shaped needle, that damn nickname you hate with all your guts. You know he would not come if it wasn't absolutely necessary, his gaze following you like he cannot possibly believe he's talking to you again after all that time promising not to. "Not planning to die on your settee."

"You're high" it's not a question but more of a statement. "So please, shut up if you are really not planning to die tonight."

You’re struck by his accent, the way he combined the words so easily while you worked on stitching his skin, finally stopping the bleeding as you can breathe in peace. Med school has been awful, but at least you can do decent stitches even under the dim lights of the lamps, looking at your work almost proud moments after.

Handled him like a fucking pro.

You seem to forget about the contact, being trained to be a doctor has hit deep down now that you can keep professional at all times, but for Frenchie, even after being pretty much stabbed, he managed to fill his mind with memories of you while your cold fingertips close the cut, to think, once again, that he does not deserve you at all, your meeting being a mistake he wouldn't do all over again.

He stills hallucinates about when he met you in your second year of university, selling weed in your campus parties making a pretty good list of clients for yourself. He remembers being so mad at you for stealing possible clientèle at the time, he was planning on beating your ass and scare you out until you didn't dare to sell at all. At least, that was the idea until he notices his potential nemesis. You.

He talked about the situation with Little Nina convincing her he could take care of the problem, but in reality, he chooses to make you his problem instead. You were just a twenty-something med student that stayed up late at night and sell plain weed in order to afford some stuff he knew you needed: How could he be aggressive with you?

He's almost whipped before even talking to you, after following you for a while without you even noticing, he's studying you like you're, indeed, the enemy. And when he finally talks to you in that stupid party, you finally seem to notice he's not there for a nice business, not when he's pulling you aside from all the noise.

You both are so different it's annoying, however, fits so good must be a curse.

You managed to work out the next couple of months, split the clients, the money, and there were no suspects until Nina found out and killed one of your classmates in response, leaving you surrounded by cops and detectives and a profuse sadness that never seemed to go away.

Frenchie is pretty sure you're one of the best thing he used to have in his life, utterly convinced that he must remain far from you after years of not talking to you, yet, he's unable to do it much longer. Maybe it's the weed, the fever and the pain all combined together, but when he noticed he was close to your place, he choose to seek for your help instead of turning to his teammates.

He's no good for you. Even after not being around Nina and changing completely. He's simply no good for you.

You work in silence, unsure of what to say at first. Your breathing is steady as you cover the wound with bandages, neck sore already after keeping the same position over the minutes without sleeping much all that week. Frenchie doesn't whine even when it hurts, making it easier to work with as you check other injuries.

When it comes to the split lip, you know it's going to be a thing.

"Thanks for patching me up," he says while you press the alcohol revealing a much smaller wound that you'd actually imagined, mouth's always bleed tons. "I'm just sorry for showing up so late, mon ami."

Inconsiderate. Your eyes dart the movements of his upper lip while he speaks, trying to clean the blood while it moves with no victory.

"Please talk to me princesse" he says soon after, crazy by your silence — “Please.”

Your eyes narrow in response, looking at him while inspecting his lip. “How did you manage to get so damn fucked up?” You wished you didn't ask, because you already know how he got it, how he was working now for a whole different group doing suicidal missions all the time, heard it from a close friend.

He stays silent for a while, and you cannot help but roll your eyes in response. You’re used to it, to the lack of information and the blatant lie he always used to tell just to reassure you, so instead, you continue cleaning his wounds with alcohol, pressing the gauze with less patience now that he regained the color of his skin. You’re simply not doing it anymore.

“Just stay still so we can do this fast enough” you say tired already, having to deal with him even just ten miserable minutes results in a classic headache.

Silence. You are dragged by the current into an awkward silence, inspecting the stitches and the bruises that now appeared in his skin. He’s warm to the touch in spite of the blood loss, and you cannot help but worry about his well-being deep in your mind, hating him for it: The guy disappears however he wants to, and now has the fucking nerve to show up like nothing ever happened? God.

It’s impossible to keep quiet for the next two minutes, specially when you notice he’s biting the inside of his cheek like he’s stopping himself from saying something stupid — “What?”

“Nothing,” he responds, avoiding your gaze. "I know you're mad at me, docteur."

"I'm pretty mad at you, you're right" you admit in a low voice, finally taking your utensils to the kitchen sink when you finish, cursing when you notice you got blood on your shirt. "That's why you're waiting an hour before leaving. Not involving in whatever is going on in your life right now.”

His pained expression makes you almost regret everything you say. He knew he deserved it, but it didn't stop him from being miserable when he hears you, the cold words lingering in the air as they repeated in his mind over and over again.

"Sober up. Leave after."

It's almost a command, and he hates the sound of it, far from the way he wanted you to command him in reality, the sound of your voice making him shiver. He hates every second of it, remembering why he kept far, giving you space to continue your life without him in the picture.

It stings on Frenchie’s chest, and you try to keep your pride high enough to not think about how much you actually missed him, how you're done with him after moving on at least twice since the last time you saw him, staring at the blood circling in the drain.

"I'm sorry, mon ami" he says when you pass close to him, grabbing the dirty towels as you search, in your mind, for ways to make miracles in that sofa, and you believe him for a second when he grabs you by the wrist, cause deep down you just want him to be sorry for all the shit he did, the lies, the danger.

You just started to sell weed again recently, and his sudden visit makes you so damn uncomfortable: You don't want to take anyone's clients, you learned that the hard way. "I'll never be able to make it up to you docteur, not even in a million years. Je ne voulais pas te faire de mal."

You don't fully get what he says, and you blame it on that fucking app that's been teaching you french all along, you don't even dare to look at him until you think you can handle his intense gaze, now burning in your cheek — "Created this huge mess just to leave me alone to the fucking wolves."

“And there will not be a day I won’t regret it.”

“You’re not going to be able to make it up to me even in a century, Serge.”

It happens all so sudden after, when he pulls you down slightly, enough to press the palm of your hand flat against his chest, the feeling of his heartbeat giving you straight up chills. It’s beating so fast you’re sure it’s abnormal, the expression of his face almost begging you to have patience with him, that he just needs you beyond explanation.

“Don’t call me like that,” he asks, and you’re just standing there, so fucking close, looking at him slightly blushed.

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t mean anything to you, coeur. Like we’re strangers.”

“I don’t know you, at all” you admit in a low voice, and it saddens you to say it out loud — “I don’t think I ever did.”

God. You don’t expect it, you don’t expect the visit, the way he enters to your life again through the main door, dissolving you completely. You don’t expect any of it, it catches you by surprise without giving you any time to even prepare yourself.

He somehow manages to make sit down close to him, composed now that the he’s not bleeding-to-death. And fuck, it takes a minute for you to adjust, to notice what you’re actually doing, the feeling of his hand holding your wrist making it impossible for you to leave, to even put some necessary distance, his breathing changing as you got closer.

“We’re not strangers, mon docteur, never would when my heart beat that fast for you. To me, you’re the most real thing in my life” he’s smiling, and you can’t help but look at him amazed of his way of always change everything around. “It’s visible you don’t want me here, but I cannot stop myself from coming every single time, tu me manques, coeur.”

“You miss me, huh?” you ask almost in disbelief.

“You are missing from me,” Frenchie corrects. He knows the world is a pretty fucked up place to be, but he just wants you to be okay, to avoid trouble and just live a regular happy life.

You are willing to reply, to say something about it, about the time you spend hating his ass and missing him at the same time, but you stay silent when you can feel his gaze following your every movement, when he’s the one that puts his free hand on your cheek, his touch being enough to warm up your face, staining your cheeks red.

It’s so intense. The lack of air, the way his eyes find yours in demand of something you already know.

“Please forgive me” Frenchie says, blatant sincerity. “I’m deeply sorry, mon docteur. I’m the worst thing you’ll ever met, and I cannot help but come back to you.”

His words echo in your brain, and you don’t know exactly when, but you lean into his touch, the palm of his hand warm against your cheek.

“Fuckin’ hate you.”

You don’t. You know you don’t hate him at all. It’s quite the opposite, and it weights on your chest as he smiles like he just got his life back in track again, like it’s everything it takes to make him really happy after all that shit he’s enduring day after day.

And you try put some distance between both of you seconds after, but your heart betrays you sooner than you expect and it’s all it takes for him to finally kiss you, a tender kiss at first that freezes you for an instant, his touch transforming in something else — Something your skin has already experienced before, a taste you’ve savoured long time ago. Makes you shiver when you realize how it feels not foreign at all but just natural, like something you already learnt but it’s kept in the depths of your mind.

He’s damanding when pressing his lips against you, and it clouds your mind for a second, a thick gaze that just makes you dumb at his touch. His hands on your hips are pulling you closer without even caring for his damn stitches, and it becomes intoxicating, the need to keep on kissing him, to have him close, you forget about Little Nina, the weed, and almost everything that surrounds you.

Heavy breathing you seemed to understand it all. Nose touching his as you get it. Maybe you do need to talk. Maybe it’s important to keep your guard down one last time. You cannot avoid him much longer, not when your own heart aches in need.

Serge’s like climbing a mountain at midnight: Just impossible.

[fadinglights]

jia  nods,  finding  his  explanation  reasonable  enough,  though  part  of  her  quietly  wonders  if  he  has  always  been  so  trusting  given  how  it  can  both  be  a  blessing  and  a  curse.  “and  what  type  of  person  would  i  be?”  she  asks  with  a  quirked  eyebrow  teasingly,  before  a  small  chuckle  almost stumbles  out. she  nods  slowly  to  his  response,  thinking  about  how  much  she  leaned  on  her  own  vet  before  in  moments  where  difficult  decisions  had  to  be  made.  “that  doesn’t  sound  fair  though…  all  that  should  matter  is  you  take  good  care  of  the  animals  and  are  kind  to  people.”  even  though  he  may  not  find  himself  to  be  the  best  with  people,  he  exudes  a  gentle  and  authentic  energy  that  most  find  trustworthy.  “...  nice?”  she  suggests  when  he  seems  to  run  out  of  words,  trying  her  best  to  stifle  a  laugh  in  reaction  to  the  speechlessness  that  she  successfully  caused  before  she  takes  another  sip  of  the  coffee  he  made.  it  might  be  cruel  to  admit,  but  it  is  almost  too  endearing  to  watch  him  fumble  for  words.  “great.”  she  proceeds  to  place  the  order  afterwards,  “all  done.  it  shouldn’t  take  long.”  or  she  truly  hopes  so,  considering  now  her  hunger  is  much  more  apparent  after  the  mention  of  food.  “it’s  okay  —  i  told  you  i’d  help  you  get  used  to  it,  didn’t  i?”  she  responds  lightheartedly,  though  the  reassuring  smile  she  offers  is  as  genuine  as  the  first  one  she  gave  him.  “i  have  work  tomorrow  so  it’ll  probably  be  too  late  when  my  shift  is  off,  but  i’ll  see  if  i  can  get  tuesday  or  wednesday  off  to  go  to  your  clinic  for  the  papers.”  the  prospect  of  adopting  a  pet  that  she’s  fallen  for  at  first  sight  thrills  her  and  her  anticipation  is  almost  contagious.  

'usually you do, but i know the layout of your house is similar to mine and the rent you pay...so that part is settled' he explained mindlessly, not fearing he could sound like a downright creep in the middle of it 'and...usually we judge personality by a set of questions, and i think i already have a good idea of what type of person you are' finally glimpsing at her, shame pouring through him by the awkwardness of his explanation, should he had just gone through the usual procedure? instead, he sounded like he was trying to smitten her. mortified by the prospect, he did a mental note of trying to talk less. or think better. but the next words caught him of guard, letting a breezy smile fell through his lips. 'im not good with people, which ironically is something important in the career. we're not only trating animals but also their owners, so yeah...they weren't super keen on my introversion' he was thankful still for her kind words, at least he knew know that he wasn't completely throwing all his chances with her up the window. did he wanted those chances? coming so fresh out of his ex? but he couldn't help it, he had been drawn to the girl from the get go, something pulling him in. his self-consciousness only emphasized with his abashment. he fumbles for words, his tongue a prisoner of his own insecurity, his hands clammy with the sweat of anticipation. he knows he must seize this fleeting moment, this fragile chance to bridge the chasm between them, but the words elude him like ghosts in the night. 'im...im sure you have, but this one is...this one is...' perfect, he completes in his head, a clumsy attempt at charm, but it falls flat, landing with all the grace of a lead balloon. he welcomes the interruption of her taking the coffee, deflating like a high school boy with the inability of summoning courage. his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, struggling to articulate the simplest of preferences. the very notion of choice, of asserting his own will in matters so trivial yet significant, seemed foreign to him, like a language he had long forgotten. 'that last one...patty on top, seems good' he finally breathes, like it had taken all his efforts. he was pathetic 'sorry...im not really used to...well, this' deciding, talking to girls, making sure they were comfortable. his past have been lead by others, it was never really him who have taken any chances. this was foreign to him, yet he was astonished by the circumstances.

[fuck-customers]

Oh man I’d forgotten about this one until a post in the pet store Bookface group I’m in reminded me of it.

~2.5-3 years ago, before I’d moved to where I live now, I worked in a SmartPet that had an on-site vet clinic, and was therefore allowed to sell prescription food. Now, prescription dog/cat food DOES REQUIRE A PRESCRIPTION TO BE SOLD. Pet parent brings in Rx from their vet, on-site vet makes them an Rx card, card has a code that the register requires for all sales of Rx food. People forgot to renew or just straight up forgot their Rx cards all the time, so we accepted recently-expired cards and photos of cards (I even recommended taking a photo and favoriting it to most Rx pet parents).

One night, definitely after 8 pm but I think closer to 8:30 (we closed at 9 and the vet had been closed for a while, all the vet staff had gone home), a woman came up with some bag of Rx dog food. I asked her for her Rx card, and she said she didn’t have one. I asked if she had a photo of one or a scrip straight from her outside vet. Nope, didn’t have either of the things we could work with. So I told her I couldn’t sell her the food. Our vet was closed, her vet was also definitely closed, try again tomorrow. She said she was all out and needed it tonight. Sorry, still not allowed to sell it without proof it’s needed.

So she left in a huff and screamed at me “IF MY DOG DIES IT’S YOUR FAULT! 😠”

My manager (a good one, we’d been friends since before he got promoted) happened to be ringing someone up on the register behind me and was like “…Hey what was that about?” So I went 🤷🏼‍♀️ and told him she didn’t have a scrip for the food. I tried not to let it get to me, but I still remember it pretty clearly all this time later so I guess it did 🙃

(P.S.: so many fucking vets would send pet parents to buy Rx food without giving them an Rx for it. Why? Just why? If any of y’all work for a vet, please don’t do that, that was the majority of what I got yelled at for. I definitely don’t miss working in a vet store.)

V

[writeforfandoms]

Congrats on 100 babe!

Could I request a veterinarian reader taking care of one of Whiskey's horses on his ranch?

Sorry if that's too specific 🤣

Thank you my dear!!

After an hour of research, I picked something simple for the poor horse. But I feel I need to state that I am not a vet, I nave never gone through training, I never worked with a large animal vet, and I have not owned a horse. So. Any inaccuracies in this are my own. Also take this with a grain of salt. Or, y'know, a pile of salt. Whatever.

Honestly, this was a lot of fun. We got some nice soft Whiskey here! Because I am incapable of hurting anyone with these little requests.

Whiskey x gn!reader (although the term "darling" is used to refer to them)

No warnings. Nothing hurts. Everything is fluff.

Now presenting...

Run for the Roses

The call came late enough in the day that you were tempted to let it roll to voicemail, especially after the day you’d just had. Then you sighed and grabbed the phone. Your conscience wouldn’t let you ignore the phone.

“West Valley vet clinic, how can I help you?”

“Evenin’,” a man greeted in an easy drawl. “I’m calling for one of my horses.”

“Have we seen them before?” you asked, dropping into a chair at reception and pulling up the patient record program on your computer.

“Yeah, think so. Last name is Daniels. Horse is Buttercup.”

You paused for a moment once you had the profile up. A female palomino. Quarter horse. “Did you name her after Princess Buttercup?”

A rich laugh met your ears. “I did,” he admitted, not even a little embarrassed.

You huffed a little laugh. “What are her symptoms?”

“Lethargic, doesn’t want to eat a lot. She had some discharge from her nose earlier,” Mr. Daniels listed. “I’ve got her separated in the barn.”

“Good.” You checked his address, then the map on your phone. “I can be there in about 45 minutes, Mr. Daniels.”

“Thank you. I’d be much obliged.”

“I’ll see you then.” You hung up. Time to close up for the night. Your tech had gone home early, and your receptionist was out sick, so it was just you. You skipped vacuuming, turned off all the lights, and locked up. That would be good enough for tonight. You’d just get in early tomorrow to clean properly before patients.

If you were lucky, you’d be home before dark. If you were lucky. You were starting to doubt that.

The drive was an easy half hour – you’d missed most of the traffic. The property was set back off the road, and as you drove down the long private drive you couldn’t help but marvel. The property had to be huge, but it was mostly open, and clearly well tended. Grass stretched out on both sides of the private drive, with trees dotted here and there that you could see. Fencing stretched out back beyond the house – like a paddock. Probably, anyway.

You parked out front of the house, getting out and grabbing your field bag with all your to-go goodies.

And then you got your first look at Mr. Daniels as he waved to you, coming around the side of the house.

He was tall, dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans, a rag still in one hand. Dark hair fell across his forehead, and even at this distance you could easily see teeth gleaming in his grin. Hoo boy.

“You must be the new vet,” he said, holding out a hand to you. “Heard a lot about you when you took over for Dr. Buffum.”

“Hopefully nothing too awful,” you joked, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Daniels.”

“Jack, please,” he said, waving for you to follow him. “Barn’s right back this way.”

You followed him around the house and across a stretch of open land to the barn. You could see two other horses out in the paddock. “So, which one is Westley?”

“The black,” Jack said without missing a beat. “The bay is Inigo.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. “Well, I have to admit I approve,” you told him.

“Thanks. Not as many people get it as you’d think.” Jack opened the door into the barn, and you took the initiative to walk over to the only horse in the barn. She was a beauty, but clearly not feeling well.

The exam didn’t take long, since she didn’t fight you at all, and you let yourself out of the stall. Jack was hovering nearby, practically vibrating with anxious energy.

“Just a cold,” you assured him. “She should be fine in a week or so. In the meantime, keep her in here so she doesn’t pass it on to the other two. Make sure she has plenty of water, and keep everything clean. You can try soaking her food too. Call me immediately if she gets any worse.” You dug out one of your business cards that had your cell number on it and handed it to Jack.

“Thank you,” he said, tucking the business card in his pocket and then eyed you for a moment, apparently debating something. “It’s gettin’ late. Can I interest you in a drink before you have to go?”

You hesitated. He was a client… But it was late, and you wanted some normal human interaction. “Sure.”

Jack grinned at that, clearly pleased. “Come on in,” he told you, leading the way back to the house. There was a nice wrap around porch with a few knickknacks strewn about – an errant boot, a spade, a hammer. You smiled at the sight. You stepped through the mudroom into the kitchen, and washed up while Jack poured iced tea for you both.

“How’s town treating you?” he asked, handing over a glass.

“So far so good.” You took a sip and smiled. “The people here are nice, certainly. It is a big change for me, though. I’m more used to city life.”

Jack chuckled. “Just a little different,” he teased. “I hear you on that.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d have guessed the property was inherited – you’d seen some mementos and things that looked old, in the brief look you’d gotten.

“Used to live and work in New York,” Jack said, leaning back against the counter. “Traveled a lot too. Fortunately I don’t do near as much of that anymore.”

You smiled, curious. “Where all did you travel?”

“Oh, all over,” Jack said, waving an airy hand but with a mischievous grin. “You’d be surprised where all stockholders live.”

“Where do you work?”

“Statesman distillery.”

You made a face. You couldn’t help it. Sure, you liked whiskey just fine, but the distillery itself was an oddly-shaped tourist attraction.

“Now what’s that look for?” Jack asked, standing up a little straighter. But humor gleamed in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know you have no control over it, but the main building is just… ugly.”

Jack threw back his head and laughed. “Well, darlin’, you’re not exactly wrong.”

Your heart stuttered at the endearment. It had been… a very long time since anyone had called you anything like that. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you,” you managed to quip.

“Mighty kind of you.” Jack smiled. “Do you drink?”

“Sometimes.”

“You’ll have to come by sometime. I’ll give you the tour myself.” Jack winked.

You snorted. “I don’t tend to have a lot of free time on weekdays,” you told him.

“S’alright, we’ll make it work on a weekend.” Jack shrugged, unbothered. “Brunch and a tour.”

You paused at that before a slow smile crossed your lips. “That sounds an awful lot like a date.”

“Doesn’t have to be if you don’t want,” Jack was quick to backtrack.

You smiled. That was sweet of him. He was very attractive. And polite. He clearly cared about his animals. “A date sounds nice. Tell you what, I’ll come over before brunch to check in on Buttercup again. And then I’ll let you drive.”

Jack’s smile widened to nothing short of blinding. “I like that plan, darlin’,” he murmured.

“Saturday?” you suggested, a little shy. It was only three days away. But you could admit, if only to yourself, that you liked the attention. And the conversation.

“Is ten o’clock too early?”

“Ten is perfect.” You smiled and, a little reluctantly, set your glass of iced tea aside. “I should get home before it gets any later.”

“What do I owe you for the check up?” Jack asked, walking you to the front door.

You shot him a grin. “You can buy brunch on Saturday,” you flirted. “Pretty sure I’m getting the better end of this deal.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Jack smirked at you, confident and flirty. “But you got yourself a deal. I’ll see you Saturday.” He caught your hand and pulled it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“See you Saturday.” You managed to get the words out even as heat flooded your face. Jack released you and you carried your bag back to your car.

The drive home was uneventful, and you reheated some food for a late dinner. You were getting ready for bed when your phone buzzed, and you frowned. Who could be texting you this late?

Decided I couldn’t wait until Saturday to talk to you again. Text me tomorrow? I’ll be stuck in meetings all day and could do with some rescuing.

A grin split your face. You couldn’t help it. If you weren’t careful, this man would worm his way into your affections very quickly. Part of you wondered if that would be such a bad thing.

So, with an impish grin, you sent one message in response.

Sounds terrible. I might even have to do an in person check to make sure they’re not mistreating you too badly. We’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule. Sleep well. 😘

--

Taglist: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks @withakindheartx @anaaaispunk @fearisametaphor 

[celestexchangs]

Cel: I'm so glad I'm not the only one lol. Either I'm clumsy and break my phone (which is why I love my phone insurance) or I open a message, think I replied, and then completely forget to respond. So I'm glad that I'm not the only one whos' horrible at communicating 😂😂. Cel: It happens a lot, unfortunately 😅 This time, I was trying to give one of the pets who's boarded a bath. But I am only 5'3" and the dog was an Irish Wolfhound. So I had to stand on a step ladder to do an adequate job so...you can imagine it didn't go well when he tried to get out of the washtub. Long story short, my phone ended up on the floor because I saved it at the last minute before I myself fell into the wash basin. Cel: I'm *so* glad no one else really saw it happen. Cel: I don't think they'll think it's weird, but if you want you can just send both to me, and I'll forward it to the community center for the kids. I've never seen a dog play in a bubble shower, primarily because I know bubbles are toxic for dogs, but I know they make dog friendly bubbles so…obviously now I have to find some so I can try them out. It sounds absolutely adorable. Cel: It wasn't always fun growing up, but he's still my dad you know? We may not get along, but there's still that part of me that wants his approval. So it definitely sucks knowing that I'll never get that. But my job is worth it. I love working at the clinic; being able to be there for them and help them just makes everything worth it. Being around animals all day is just…heaven, lol. And thank you, I definitely appreciate it. I'll keep that in mind if I ever don't want to be alone or anything. I try to keep my distance from him if I can because if we're together we usually end up fighting pretty bad. He can't help but tell me how disappointed he is every time he sees me; I'm the baby, he was supposed to be able to trust that I'd obey. We do our best to stay cordial, but tensions boil over sometimes you know? Cel: The good days definitely make up for the bad, but those bad days are definitely hard. I'll NEVER understand how people can ever treat their animals so badly. We get drop offs from time to time, but the amount of pets I've seen brought in because someone found them abandoned is just…heartbreaking. When I first got here, I was helping with a dog who'd spent most of his life in a dog fighting ring. It killed me. Cel: The final dream. I got sidetracked ha. The final dream is to open my own clinic. I've been taking care of both wild and domesticated animals my whole life so being able to open my own clinic that serves as both a wildlife rescue and release as well as a usual vet clinic would be the dream. Cel: I'll drop by tomorrow morning before work! Or on lunch. I'm sure the cafe has great food, but my priority would be caffeine consumption. 😅😅

Stevie: You're good. I'm glad I'm not alone when it comes to replies. I'm on top of it, or people think I chucked my phone into the ocean. I'm better with in-person interactions mainly because I forget to check my messaging apps. Stevie: That sucks! I'm sorry. How did it break? Stevie: If they don't think it's weird a stranger sent a bubble machine their way, then sure. I'll set everything up to ship to them and you for the new kids. Have you ever seen dogs play in a bubble shower? It's just as awesome as you imagine. Stevie: That's tough, Cel. Have you been around him lately or keeping a distance? If you need a quiet place, the cafe at my job is always there for you. If it's after hours and you need to get away, I'm a call away. [inserts number] Figure it's better to call than text since my texting/messaging track record is laughable. Stevie: What is your final dream? I heard heartwarming tales from people who've worked there but also some that take the wind of you, mostly when people mistreat the animals. Not the staff but the owners who bring them in. Stevie: Come on by whenever you have free time. I'll be there bright and early tomorrow morning. Doors open at 6am.

[lambourngb]

bad personal news under the cut and why I’m not really here anymore:

My dad just spent 6 days in the hospital after a collapse that required EMS. The cancer drug that said we could get 8 months from ... isn’t working, and with his cancer type, blood loss is the main COD basically. There’s no taking it out. Radiation only lasted for a month or so. The doctors are urging end-of-life care... of course, my dad isn’t ready to die, so he argued his oncologist into doing a different chemo regime. Her only suggestion was a drug that buys 5 months of time... for 20 percent of the people taking it.

Obviously, that’s 80 percent that see no clinical benefit from it.

Best case, we’re talking August, September. If we’re very lucky.

I know it’s dumb, but I thought, maybe RNM will be back by then. Maybe the next season of Nancy Drew will be ready and I can see Nancy/Ace again. I’m looking for the tiniest treats for me. I am already in search of coping mechanisms for fall and winter. Fuck thinking about Christmas.

ETA: 4/19/2022 - my horse came up lame. Vet says he needs to be retired. There goes one of the few things that comforts me. Obviously I still have him, he’s just a pasture pet now.

ETA: 5/12/2022 - so RNM was canceled. So I get to lose my dad and my show in the same year. Fuck.

ETA : 5/25/2022 - we stopped treatment. Doctor says he has a few weeks left. Hoping we get to his birthday. Really hoping we get a few months if we don’t have chemo sapping his strength…

ETA : 7/17/2022 - dad is still hanging in there. He sleeps a lot but manages to wake up for the Braves every night. This remains incredibly hard.

ETA 8/01/2022 - still hanging on, he’s not ready for hospice but getting enough calories into him remains a fight. home health care aide is new but thankfully good at least. tentatively scheduling myself for two more 7 day trips this month, unless something changes.

ETA: 9/20/2022 - starting home hospice tomorrow after spending a week in the hospital. Might have a few weeks left. I don’t think he’s going to live to see the MLB playoffs.

Eta; 9/22/2022 - we never made it home. He passed away tonight.

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Cowgirl and the Engineer

Chapter 7

Warnings: swearing, mostly fluff.

Notes: I will update the Masterlist for this tomorrow when I can get on the pc. It doesn't work right on the phone.

Early the next morning, Bucky was woken up by someone pounding on the door. He threw on a pair of sweats and stumbled out of his room only to see Steve answering the door and hear Sharon crying. Bucky shook his head when Steve let her in.

"What are you doing here Sharon? I told you we are done. Crying won't change anything, I want nothing to do with you" Bucky spat at her.

Sharon looked at him with tear filled eyes. "I'm not here to get back with you. I want to help with your case against the fraternity and my sorority. After what Brock did last nite I can't be a part of them."

Bucky sneered "I don't believe a word you say. They probably sent you over to spy on us and report back. Just head on back and tell them I'm not falling for your bullshit."

Sharon gulped "I know you have no reason to trust me but Peggy and Brock have humiliated me enough and I want them to pay. What he did to me, with her approval. I just can't."

Bucky shook his head and grabbed a card out of his wallet. "Yeah, you care when they hurt you but didn't give a fuck about all of the girls you helped them hurt. You make me sick. Here is the card for the attorney we are working with. You can talk to him if you are serious but I know none of the girls we've been meeting with will want you there since you helped humiliate and hurt them. And I better not see you messing with Y/N again. She's been thru enough."

Sharon smiled sadly "I know it's too late but I'm really sorry Bucky. I shouldn't have tried to manipulate you into doing what your dad wants. I just wanted to please my dad and make him see me but Peggy will always be his favorite."

Bucky scoffed "You're right Sharon, it's too late. I need some sleep. You can see yourself out."

Steve just stood there in shock. WTF just happened? What other manipulation and plots was Peggy involved with?

Bucky went back to his room before Steve could ask but couldn't fall back asleep. Too much drama running through his head. He got up and took a hot shower to clear his head. After his shower he threw some clothes on and headed out for coffee.

When he left the cafe for a walk to think, he heard a high pitched whining and followed it to some bushes to find a very small, dirty and cold white kitten. Bucky took off his scarf and wrapped the kitten up trying to warm it up while thinking about what he could do with it. Then it hit him, Y/N is a vet science major, she would be able to help so he rushed over to her apartment.

Y/N was roused out of a nice dream by someone banging on the door. Wanda and Nat had gone home for the break, so she pulled herself out of bed grumbling. When she opened the door and saw Bucky she almost closed it right back in his face.

Bucky spoke quickly "I know I have no right being here but I need your help. I found this kitten and don't know what to do with it. Can you help? Please? I don't know where else to go. I couldn't just leave it outside cold and muddy"

She sighed and let him in, waving him over to the couch.

"Ok, let me see what we have here"

Bucky unwrapped the kitten from his scarf where it had been purring happily, causing it to meow in protest. He handed it to her.

She picked it up "Hey sweetness. What were you doing out there all alone in the cold?"

She looked it over from head to tail. "First, it's a she. Second, she's about 5 or 6 weeks old so either already weaned from her moms milk or close to it. Third, she looks pretty healthy but we need to get her cleaned up."

She looked at Bucky "you're lucky I don't have anything to do today. Lets take her to the clinic so we can get her cleaned up and vaccinated. Let me get dressed."

Y/N handed the kitten back to Bucky and went to change out of her pajamas and Bucky grinned at the kitten. "Look at you causing all this fuss."

Y/N came out of her room in jeans and a hoodie with a clean towel, then scooped the kitten up off of Bucky's lap and looked at him. "You coming? She's your cat."

Bucky nodded, "Of course. I'm not going home for the holidays so am looking for distractions.

Unfortunately I can't keep her, our apartment doesn't allow pets. I was hoping you could keep her. Or know someone who can."

She rolled her eyes as she handed the kitten-towel pile to him and locked the door as they left. Walking quickly towards the clinic she laughed softly.

"I guess I can keep her for a bit but I don't know how Wanda and Nat will feel."

Bucky grinned "I knew you were the right person"

Y/N rolled her eyes and laughed. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

They walked side by side both wondering how they ended up here. When they made it to the clinic Y/N opened the door and let Bucky in. He followed her to the back and helped her clean and vaccinate the kitten.

She looked at him "Have you thought of a name? Can't keep calling her it."

Bucky shook his head "You're taking care of her, you name her."

She laughed "If I had any ideas I wouldn't have asked you"

Bucky thought for a minute. "She reminds me of a ski trip Steve and I took to St Moritz the December after we graduated high school. The snow was pure white and fluffy, like she is now that she's clean and dry."

"I moved here and started working as soon as I graduated high school. Couldn't wait to get away from my mom. Never been skiing.

Was there a name in there?"

Bucky laughed and picked the kitten up to cuddle her. "We should call her Alpine like the Alps. And I want visitation rights"

Y/N grinned "Are we co-parenting now? Alpine sounds like a good name."

She looked at the kitten "What do you think, Alpine?"

Alpine chose that moment to meow before she snuggled into Bucky's chest and resumed her loud purring.

Y/N laughed "I'll take that as a yes. There's some cat food samples and a couple of toys here but she needs a catbox and some litter. There's a pet store around the corner."

Bucky carries Alpine while they wander through the pet store throwing more cat paraphernalia than Alpine could ever need into a cart. The employees come over to admire and pet the kitten who clawed at Bucky's jacket anytime someone tried to take her from his arms.

Y/N teased "Looks like you found yourself a new girl, Barnes"

Bucky frowns "Barnes? I liked it better when you called me Bucky."

She smirked "That's the price for waking me up on one of my rare days to sleep in."

"Fair enough. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again but I think you can agree this was too important to wait."

They took Alpine and her stuff back to her apartment and set everything up.

Y/N spoke up. "We can let her look around a bit today but tomorrow is the clinics low cost spay and neuter hours so I'll take her to get fixed. Best to get it done before I have to deal with any heats."

Bucky nodded "You're the expert. Is it ok if I come by to see her after you're done? I need to make sure she doesn't forget me."

"She was purring her head off and wouldn't let anyone take her away from you. I don't think shes going to forget you."

They spent the evening eating take out, playing with Alpine and sorta watching a movie that they didn't give attention to know the plot.

Y/N was up early the next morning to take Alpine to the clinic. She planned to spend some time with Frostie while she waited. What she didn't plan for was Bucky standing at her front door, ready to knock, with two coffees.

"Bucky!? I thought you were coming over after Alpine is done. She won't be ready until after noon." She told him.

Bucky shrugs "I told you I was looking for things to pass the time. I'll hang out and help around the clinic or something. I brought you coffee."

She looked pensive. "I'm not performing her surgery, my friend Carol is since she's more advanced than I am. I was going to see my horse Frostie, exercise him a bit since its been a couple of days."

Bucky looked surprised "you have a horse? How cool. I've ridden a couple of times with friends but nothing more than that."

"Horses are like my therapy. I can go see Frostie, muck out his stall, ride a bit, and work through whatever is on my mind. Or work my body enough to get too tired to think about anything but my sore muscles."

Bucky favored here with a huge smile, it was almost blinding "Your face lit up just now, when you were talking about Frostie. Now that I know you have such an important man in your life I feel like I need to meet him."

Y/N giggled "Frostie is my best friend. Always listens, keeps my secrets and never treats me badly. I don't know if I know you well enough to introduce you. Can't bring just anyone to see him. His opinion means more to me than my mom's. If he doesn't like you-"

Bucky interrupted "I'm sure he'll like me. We should stop and get some apples. Or carrots? What do horses like? Besides I helped save Alpine and we are co-parenting her. Pretty sure you're stuck with me now."

She grumbled "I knew it. Should never have answered the door yesterday."

After they dropped Alpine off with multiple promises from Carol that she would be just fine.

They headed to the stable but stopped for some apples on the way.

Bucky tried to straighten his hair and jacket. Y/N giggled. "He doesn't care what you look like. That's one of the reasons I love animals, they don't care about how you look on the outside as long as you treat them well, they will do the same, for the most part."

Bucky nodded "I get it, I've had my fill of superficial people. I haven't been around animals that much. My dad thinks they are a waste of time and money so I never had one growing up."

Y/N looked at him sadly. "I think everyone should have pets. They give us so much it more than makes up for any trouble or cost."

They arrived at the stable and she took him over to Frosties stall "Frostie" he nickered softly. "I'd like you to meet Bucky. We have a child together"

Bucky choked on his coffee "What the heck?!"

She smiled at him "Put your hand out flat with an apple on it"

Frostie nuzzled Bucky's chest and promptly sneezed on him.

Bucky laughed and put his hand out, flat with an apple on it which Frostie took and munched on happily.

"Dad was right about animals being messy. Does horse snot wash out?"

Bucky helped her muck out the stall and groom Frostie so he could be ridden.

Y/N looked at him "Do you want to ride him? I'll be right here and he's a total babysitter?"

"Babysitter?"

"Yeah, that's a horse that adjusts his behavior to the level of the rider. Frostie was a rescue but was a lesson horse and has an awesome temperament."

Bucky looked nervous "I don't know. You go ahead and I'll watch."

She tacked him up and took him out to the arena, walking him around a few times before she urged him into a trot.

Bucky just watched with a sappy look on his face. Like the one Rick gave Evy when her camel was winning, in The Mummy.

After she rode for a bit she went over to the fence where Bucky was standing and watching.

"Come on, now he's warmed up so you can ride a little. I'll be right next to you. I mean, you're not chicken or anything? Are you?"

Bucky rolled his eyes "This isn't junior high and calling me chicken won't make me do it. Besides I had already decided to see if I could ride a little."

She smirked "Sure you did."

She dismounted and showed him how to mount, then helped him get adjusted and settled in so he was sitting properly.

"Now, gently squeeze your legs to make him move forward" she walked along side, coaching him along until she received a text from Carol. She smiled "Alpine is ready to be picked up. Let's get you down and put Frostie away."

Bucky dismounted and was surprised at how weird and sore his legs were for the short time he rode. He helped her groom Frostie and put him back in his stall.

When they made it to the clinic Carol was waiting since all her scheduled surgeries were done.

"Bucky, this is Carol, she's another vet student who is a year ahead of me. Carol, this is Bucky. Nats boyfriend Steve's friend. He found Alpine so we are co-parenting"

Carol raised an eyebrow, knowing how long her friend had been single and some of the fraternity story.

"Alpine came through with flying colors. I put a cone on her and she's going to be drowsy for the rest or the day. You know the drill but you don't have to bring her back for the stitches, you should be able to handle that yourself."

Y/N thanked and hugged her. They said their goodbyes and took the drugged cat back to her apartment. She gently set her down on the soft bed they bought her the day before and put her water and some soft food nearby.

"You want to hang out? I'm starved" she asked him?

"I could eat. Pizza?"

"Sure"

They agreed on their order and watched Lucifer for the rest of the night. Lots of laughing, especially at poor, wasted Alpine. When he left after midnight, Bucky gave her a kiss on the cheek and said goodnight.

She was confused. He had just sat there when Sharon said awful things to and about her but was being so sweet now. Her cheek was still tingling when she fell asleep, Alpine curled up on her plush pillow, on the floor.

[fridayfirefly]

Retirement

Read Retirement on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 21 - Domestic Bliss

The first time Marinette and Garfield ever discussed retirement was before they even started dating. For superheroes, retirement was just a fact of life. One day, if you make it long enough, you'll put down the suit and you'll never pick it up again. Maybe someone will take your place. Hopefully, no one will need to. But no matter how strong you are, not even if you're Superman in his prime, the simple fact was that someday you would retire.

"What do you think you'll do after you retire?" Marinette mused to Garfield. Out of all the Titans, Marinette spent the most time around Gar, simply because the two of them spent a lot of time in the living room. Marinette liked the ambient noise that his video games provided when she worked on her projects, and Gar liked to have someone to talk to while he played. Most of Marinette's current focus was on the embroidery in her hands, as she stitched vines running down the sleeves of her shirt, but she still took the time to start a conversation with Gar.

"I dunno..." Gar glanced up from the game he was playing. "What'll you do once you give up being Ladybug."

"That's a tough question. I used to think that I wanted to run a big fashion company, like Agreste Fashion, but now I think I want something a little more low-key. In my ideal future, I own a little boutique where I make custom clothing. There would be a fabric store and a café on the same block as me, and I would never have to leave the neighborhood."

"That sounds nice. I think I might try going to college and see where that takes me. I applied to Jump City University right before Christmas, and they accepted me. If I went, I would start classes in the fall.”

Marinette’s head jerked up as she gave Gar her full, undivided attention. “I’m going to JCU next fall!” she exclaimed excitedly. “We might have classes together. What are you planning on majoring in?”

Gar shrugged, “JCU has a veterinary program that I'm interested in. I'd be taking animal behavior, biology, chemistry, and a whole bunch of other science classes.”

“That’s so cool!”

“It’s nothing much. I didn’t expect them to accept me, anyway.”

Gar seemed oddly subdued about the idea of going to college. He was a naturally enthusiastic person, which made it very out of character for him to be so dismissive. It worried Marinette. “No, you deserve praise for your accomplishment. Jump City University is a very selective school.”

“I’m not a genius. I’m just me.”

“You’re smart, Gar, I know you are. Getting accepted to JCU is just one of the many reasons why you are brilliant.”

“Are you gonna name them all for me?” joked Gar.

His question was rhetorical, just a joke, but Marinette wasn't finished convincing Gar that he deserved all the praise in the world. “For starters, you can finish any video game in less than a day. Even the ones where you need logic and strategy, you fly right through them. Secondly, you’re a genius when it comes to animals. And it’s not just because of your superpower. You taught yourself animal behavior so that you could blend in with the animals you’re imitating. Thirdly, you pretend not to be invested in politics, but I’ve seen how you keep yourself informed about environmental policies and activism. You really care about the planet. Fourthly-“

"Alright, Buginette,” laughed Gar, a slight blush on his cheeks. “You’ve proven your point.”

Marinette set her embroidery down on the coffee table and moved to Gar's couch. "Is this game multiplayer?"

"Yep. Do you want to play a few rounds?"

"Hmm... I think I could spare a few minutes to kick your butt."

"Please. I'm going to squash you like the little bug you are."

"You wish!"

----------

The next time Marinette and Gar discussed retirement was well after they started dating. They got together in their Junior year at JCU after spending two years in relationship limbo, with both too nervous to make the first move. They finally confessed their feelings for each other after Dick and Starfire locked them in a closet together until they admitted that they liked each other. They graduated college as a couple, with Gar planning on attending veterinary school and Marinette planning on starting up her fashion business. That summer they spent a lot of time talking about the future.

"I've been thinking of recruiting someone to take over as Ladybug," remarked Marinette as she cuddled up next to Gar on the couch.

"Really? Who do you have your eye on?" asked Gar.

"Wonder Woman recently took on a new protege, Cassie Sandsmark. The Ladybug Miraculous already has some connections to Wonder Woman and her home of Themyscira. Her mother, Queen Hippolyta, was a wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous for quite some time."

"If you gave up the Miraculous would you still fight crime?"

Marinette shook her head. "I think it might be time to give up crimefighting. It's been ten years since I took up the Ladybug Miraculous to fight Hawkmoth, and six years since Hawkmoth was defeated. I wasn't ready to give up that responsibility then, but I think I'm ready now."

"When would you give up the Miraculous?"

"Soon. I talked to Wonder Woman about it last week and she's enthusiastic about the idea. I would need to spend some time getting to know Cassie, just to make sure she's a good fit, and Tikki would need to vet her as well, but I have a good feeling that she'll pass any tests of character we put her through." Marinette turned to face Gar. "I didn't want to make any concrete decisions before I talked to you. I know that we've always fought crime together, but I'm ready to move on with my life. I'm ready to retire."

Gar nodded. "I understand and I fully support your decision. I've been considering leaving the Titans as well. I know I could continue living in the Tower and attend veterinary school at JCU, but last week I got an acceptance letter from UC Davis for their School of Veterinary Medicine."

Marinette's eyes widened. "Gar, that's amazing! I remember looking into UC Davis when you were applying, and their program is nationally ranked."

Gar grinned. "The best in the country. It's too good to pass up."

"You have to go!" exclaimed Marinette. "This is your dream!"

"I think I'll send in my acceptance tomorrow," decided Gar. "Maybe we can go to Davis this weekend and scout out an apartment."

"And fabric stores," chimed in Marinette.

Gar laughed. "Anything for you, Buginette."

----------

The final time Marinette and Gar discussed retirement was years later. Marinette and Gar had gotten married and had moved back to Jump City. Marinette opened her fashion boutique, which had very quickly exploded in popularity. Gar started working for a non-profit veterinary clinic, which provided free veterinary services to lower-income neighborhoods. They had both achieved their dreams, and yet neither seemed content with their lives.

"Maybe we just need a change of scenery," suggested Marinette, leaning her head against Gar as they both sat on the beach watching the sunset. "I'm so tired of the city."

"Maybe," said Gar. "It would be nice to have a house with a backyard, rather than just an apartment."

Marinette sighed. "I know that I always said that I wanted to be the owner of a successful boutique, but this wasn't really what I had in mind. I'm so busy that I feel like I never get to spend any time with you anymore. Every day my inbox is filled with emails asking me to sell my company or expand to more locations. I'm tired of it. My passion is for making clothes, not running a business."

"I know how you feel. Every day I encounter another neglectful pet owner who brings their animal to the clinic for help but refuses to listen to me when I tell them that they need to change the way they treat their animal. It's exhausting."

"We could both just quit our jobs and move into the woods," joked Marinette.

Gar nodded, but he wasn't joking. "I've actually been thinking about that. There are a lot of remote regions with a real need for veterinary practices to provide medical assistance for the farm animals out there. I would feel a lot more useful taking care of animals that don't have anyone else."

Marinette turned to face Gar. "I wouldn't mind moving. I've been sending all of the offers to buy my boutique straight to my email archive, but I'm sure if I looked through them all I could find someone who would be able to take care of the business aspect of Ladybug Designs. I could retire from the business and design on my own time, when the inspiration strikes, instead of forcing myself to churn out design after design."

"You really wouldn't mind?" asked Gar, a hopeful look on his face.

Marinette shook her head. "I was serious about moving out of the city. There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I've been waiting for the right moment. I think that moment is now. Gar, I'm pregnant."

The deer-in-the-headlights look on Gar's face was comical, to say the least. Marinette giggled, "Well?"

Gar snapped back to reality, transforming into an elephant, trumpeting his joy. He turned back into himself and wrapped his arms around Marinette. "I'm so happy! This is the best news I could have ever heard, Buginette. Now we have to move. I want our kid to have a backyard and a dog and a big driveway where I can teach them how to ride a bike and a pond where they can swim in the summer-"

Marinette cut Gar off with a kiss. "One thing at a time," she giggled.

"I think this will be the best decision we have ever made," declared Gar.

Marinette agreed. "I think that partial retirement will be good for us."

----------

This was bliss. The feeling of grass under Marinette’s bare feet as she walked back to the house from the lake, hand in hand with Gar. The sound of their daughter's laughter as she danced around them, catching fireflies. The taste of homemade apple pie and vanilla ice cream, eaten rebelliously early as Gar proclaimed, "Dessert before dinner!" The sight of the stars up above them, no light pollution to mask the beauty of the heavens. The sound of Gar's voice, whispering, "I love you, Buginette," into Marinette's ear. And as Marinette settled into her husband's arms, she knew for certain that retirement was the best decision she had ever made.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[little-writings]

can i request a fanfic where mc is a veterinarian with her own clinic and the reason she meets jumin is because of elizabeth needing a checkup!

Oh my goodness absolutely! This was actually so fun to write! 

Anyhow, I hope you have an amazing day and enjoy!

———————————————————————————————————–

“How long has it been since Elizabeth 3rd has been to the vet?” V asked, grinning fondly as the snowy-white cat pressed against his legs, a purr beginning to rumble in her throat.  

“She doesn’t need to see a vet. She’s in perfect health.” Jumin remarked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves absentmindedly. “I have a chef prepare her a perfectly figured diet, one of the most  accalimed groomers brush her coat once a week, and-”  

“They’re supposed to get examined yearly.”  

“Who are?”  

V scoffed. “Cats, dogs, and any other animal you could call a pet.”  

“I’ll see about having a house veterinarian come by.”  

“Well, I’ve actually been hearing quite a bit about a certain veterinarian. I think you’d like them.”  

“Are they on call?”  

“No, they have a well-established practice downtown.”  

“Then I’m not interested.” Jumin stated matter-of-factly. “Taking Elizabeth 3rd outside presents too many risks. She could get hurt, lost or both – or even worse. I would never forgive myself if that were to happen.”  

V’s brows furrowed behind his tinted frames. “They’re apparently one of the best in the country. I hear there’s not a pet they don’t get along with.”  

“I would hope so, being a professional. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s an on-site practice. Any potential danger to Elizabeth 3rd isn’t worth it.”  

“Do you really think I’d recommend something that could hurt Elizabeth 3rd?”  

Jumin jerked his head to V and found himself stumbling over his words, cornered by his own stubborn mind. “What? No, I ah – no of course not.”  

The ends of V’s lips curled up and he knelt down to scratch Elizabeth behind the ears, her quiet purring volume erupting to that of a lawnmower.  

“Then give them a try.”  

Jumin wrinkled his nose. “Why are you so adamant?”  

“Because,” V simpered. “I think you’d like them.”  

Jumin didn’t have to ask the next question for V to know what he was wondering.  

“They’re professional and very devoted to their work,” He rose to his feet and rummaged through his jacket, snagging a crisp, clean card from his pocket. He gave it to Jumin who eyed it curiously.  

“In fact, they remind me of you.”  

Jumin paused. Pawprints bordered the card alongside hearts and a phone number he supposed he had no choice but to call at this point. He hardly saw V enough these days, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint him.  

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.”  

And so, later that evening, he found himself calling.  

“Loving Paws Animal Hospital, how can I help you?” The voice on the other line was sickeningly sweet and welcoming, as though dipped in honey and soaked in sugar.  

Jumin paused and bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his pride. ”Yes, I’d like to speak to your lead veterinarian?”  

“MC? They’re currently with a client at the moment, but I’d be more than happy to transfer you to their voicemail. Have we seen the pet before?”  

“No. No one has.”  

The secretary must’ve been left at a loss at the stern tone and proclamation, but she did her best regardless against the statue that was Jumin Han.

“So, it’s a new pet?”  

“No.”

“Then… you’re a new client?”  

“Yes. Potentially.”  

Jumin heard an attempt at a stifled snicker and the hospital gained a mental strike in his mind.  

“Okay well, I’ll just go ahead and transfer you to MC’s voicemail. You have a wonderful day, sir!”

That sugary sweetness returned once more, perhaps even more high-pitched than it had been. There was a pause on the other line before your voicemail began. Your voice, in comparison, was light, airy. Jumin could only think of a pleasant song when listening to it – something he found himself falling into.

“Hi this is MC, I can’t get to the phone right now but if you’ll leave a message I’ll do my best to get back to you as soon as I can!”

Despite all the preparedness Jumin thought he might’ve had, he still managed to stumble the second that alerting sound went off.

“I-I ah yes – my name is Jumin Han, and I was considering setting up an appointment for my cat, Elizbeth 3rd. It’s just for an annual exam, though I don’t even think she really needs it she’s in pristine-”

Jumin realized he was rambling and cleared his throat sheepishly.

“Anyways, I was hoping I could ask you some questions before making a final decision. If you would call me back, it’d be appreciated. Thank you.”

Jumin let out a deep sigh and relented to the horrible process of waiting.

You returned the phone call in the evening when the warm oranges, purples, and slightest hues of a deep, murky blue were settling in and spreading overhead. Jumin answered in an instant.

“Hi! Is this Mr. Han?” Your voice was even softer beyond a recorded message. You sounded sweet, but just the tiniest bit tired.

“Yes. MC, isn’t it? I’ve heard many things about you.”

You chuckled. “Good things I hope.”

A smile tugged at Jumin’s face. “Good things only. It has set my expectations high.”

“Well, I’d be delighted to meet those expectations, Mr. Han. Now, what can I do for your Elizabeth 3rd?”

“Technically speaking, there is nothing that’s necessary. Elizabeth 3rd is perfectly taken care of. I simply can’t imagine any problems arising for such a creature.”

“And what kind of perfect creature is she?”

“She is a Persian.”

You thought for a moment, and Jumin could hear a pen tapping against a desk. “Persian cats can have some complications, even if they’re in otherwise perfect living conditions. Unfortunately, it just comes with the breed.”

A sudden twisting of knots appeared in Jumin’s stomach. He tensed. “Such as…?”

“Well, you know their cute little smushed faces? Like pugs their nasal passages are shorter and more susceptible to their environments.”

Jumin opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on like a textbook’s worth of knowledge had just been released.

“And Persians specifically are prone to polycystic kidney disease, and you have to watch out for that because if ignored when they reach eight or nine years old they could suddenly collapse and die-”

You stopped yourself. You might’ve not needed to jump to that immediate conclusion.

“But I uh – it is also perfectly possible that Elizabeth 3rd is in a completely healthy state!”

Jumin was now staring wide-eyed at Elizabeth 3rd who sat uncaringly in the center of the living room. She was grooming herself and only her tail was lightly swaying from side to side across the carpet. She appeared almost serene.

‘They could suddenly collapse and die.”

A pit crumpled in Jumin’s insides.

“When’s the soonest I can come in?”

You laughed nervously. There was a clicking of a computer mouse and a brief moment of silence where you glanced through the schedule. “I can squeeze you in tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Han… are you okay?”

Jumin looked once more at Elizabeth 3rd who now raised her head to meet him. She closed and opened her eyes slowly, mewing.

“I will be when I know Elizabeth 3rd is okay.”

You sighed. “It sounds like Elizabeth 3rd has a very devoted pet parent. She is lucky to have you Mr. Han.”

“I am lucky to have her.”

The call ended soon after with you meekly attempting to assuage his fears, and Jumin beginning to pace about Elizabeth like any cause for concern he’d already miss would simply leap out for a dramatic entrance.

Jumin could now hardly wait for the appointment he considered pointless just hours ago.

V may or may not have received multiple texts of concerns throughout the night. The internet truly did not help the situation.

‘I read online that Persians with blue eyes can have something called Congenital ankyloblepharon. While the website says it’s not deadly, another said it’s linked to a fatal disease.’

‘Because of Elizabeth’s small nasal passage, a website is now telling me Elizabeth will more than likely develop a heart condition. Elizabeth 3rd does not deserve this.’

V had begged him to just wait until tomorrow and Jumin reluctantly agreed.

When the appointment finally arrived, Jumin had made sure Elizabeth would only travel in the best his wealth could provide. However, diamond-encrusted cat carriers apparently took a great deal of time to create, so a polyester and mesh carrier would have to do – lined with sherpa, of course, and filled with her favorite toys.

While Jumin had been anxious and fidgety the entire drive, Elizabeth 3rd was curious, excited even. When Elizabeth was pawing at the mesh lining to peek closer at the car window Jumin was tugging at his sleeves and holding his breath. Even Driver Kim took notice, though his support did little to ease his worries.

He only felt a little ease when he finally arrived at the clinic. The secretary had been stunned at the famous heir’s arrival, but quickly recognized his voice. Her surprise then shifted to amusement, a sly smile stretched across her face.

“Hello Mr. Han! How’re you doing today?”

Jumin furrowed his brow, glancing away. “I am… anticipating my meeting with MC.”

“Stressed for the little lady?” The secretary pointed with her pen to Elizabeth 3rd, now rolled over on her back and playing with one of her toys. This was easily one of her favorite days already.

“Very much so.” Jumin answered.

“We’ll be sure to get you in quick then.”

Jumin nodded hurriedly, and sat down. When his name was called he nearly tripped from how quickly he shot up. It was a… difficult day for maintaining composure.

He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and then proceeded on through the hall where you waited in the consulting room.

He hadn’t quite known what he’d expected when he saw you, but he still found himself without words, if only for a second. Your face was kind, far more than the ones he’d known throughout his life with eyes that offered a sense of comfort to soften the stress so clearly brimming at the surface.

“Hi Mr. Han.” You set a ginger hand on Jumin’s shoulder, offering a warm smile. “I heard you’re feeling a little concerned for Elizabeth 3rd?”

“That is an understatement.”

You folded your lips in thought, drawing your hand away only to lightly clap, determined. “Well I’ve never met an animal I can’t help, and I don’t intend to stop now.”

A bit of the weight dropped from Jumin’s chest. You tapped against the examination table – a heavy counter in the center of the room with a smooth, thick surface.

The room itself was decorated with pictures of animals surrounded by varying degrees of puns. The one the most caught Jumin’s eye was a photo of a cat, tail tucked just over its paws and a sweet expression beneath the words, ‘you’re purrfect.’

He wondered if you chose that one personally. He hoped so.

Jumin unzipped the carrier atop the counter for Elizabeth 3rd to poke out. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping out to greet your hand, fingers outstretched for her to curiously sniff. You beamed at the very sight of her, leaning down as she dipped her head against your hand, eager to be pet.

“Hello, Ms. Elizabeth! Aren’t you beautiful?” You scratched her cheek and her purring began, akin to a lawnmower. “She’s so sweet!”

Jumin watched as you examined her, flashing a light in her eyes and ears, squeezing her tummy for any masses, and flexing her legs for achy joints. Her temperature was normal, not even a rapid heart rate.

“Now I don’t want to stress her out on her first visit but I recommend we do an ultrasound,” You had remarked, rubbing her belly in one of the rare opportunities that a cat not only tolerated such an action but enjoyed it. Elizabeth 3rd was a rare creature indeed. “It’s just to make sure she doesn’t have anything bad developing in her kidneys.” 

“Do you expect there to be anything?” 

Elizabeth pawed playfully at your fingers, pulling them close to rub her cheeks against them when you relented. You had to draw your gaze back to Jumin to keep yourself from becoming distracted. It was rare to see Elizabeth 3rd warming up to someone so quickly. “Do I?” 

You paused, and then laughed. “Of course you’re asking me, I’m sorry! I don’t know what got into me – she’s just such a cutie! But ah – no I don’t. Elizabeth 3rd is as close to perfect as it gets. You weren’t kidding when you said how well she’s taken care of.” 

“She means the world to me.” Jumin hummed, Elizabeth tipping her head to see him and meowing. She almost appeared to smile when he scratched just beneath her chin. 

“May I ask how you found her?” 

Jumin hesitated, remembering the golden hair and slender hands that once held Elizabeth. It brought a pang. 

“She was a gift from someone dear.” 

You could see Jumin’s sadness so easily. You could only make your best effort to soften the hurt. “They must’ve known you two would be perfect for each other.” 

Jumin lifted his head to look up at you, and you smiled. It was gentle, and at that moment, brighter than the very sun. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and it was beautiful. He grinned, if only gently. “Thank you.” 

“Just being honest.” 

The ultrasound was an experience. Jumin thought you had to be lying or attempting a cruel joke when you brought the clippers. There was simply no way you truly could want to ruin Elizabeth’s coat! 

You had promised only the ‘teeny-tiniest’ area would be shaved, but you also promised it’d be cute. Jumin couldn’t completely disagree. 

You had him hold her still during the ordeal, his hands folded over her front legs and keeping her close as you carefully ran the clippers over her stomach. Elizabeth simply rubbed her head against Jumin’s suit. 

“See! Look at that little pink tummy!” You pointed to the now thin white hairs where just between the faintest hints of skin could be spotted. You encouraged Jumin to run his hand over and it was… oddly soft if admittedly strange. 

“There’s no way you don’t think that’s adorable.” You exclaimed. 

“It’s not not adorable. 

That made you laugh. 

The procedure itself was quick and easy. The probe found no problems within Elizabeth’s kidneys and the only issue that arose was Elizabeth 3rd squeaking in surprise at the cold gel spread over her stomach. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, I’ll get this chilly stuff off you quick, okay?” 

You made plenty of little comments like those to Elizabeth 3rd. While many others would hardly regard something as minuscule you took every effort to make Elizabeth 3rd comfortable. Jumin noticed each and every time. You were doting. 

Just as you said, you wiped her clean, only peppering her in pets all over her belly and sides as she could rollover. 

“She is the picture of health, Mr. Han. The only thing I’d recommend is we make these ultrasounds yearly to keep an eye on her – and so I can see her again.” 

Jumin chuckled. “I take it she’s swept you off your feet?” 

“Like she’s my prince charming.” You snickered. “I’m a sucker for pretty kitties.” 

“I’m glad someone else can appreciate Elizabeth 3rd for her perfection.” 

You nodded. “I also appreciate the owner that’s given her the chance to flourish so much.” 

There was a different type of pang in his chest and the tiniest bit of red flickered upon Jumin’s cheeks. Either you didn’t notice, or you didn’t say anything. 

But you smiled. 

“I ah – I might need to bring her in again sooner than her next yearly. I’ve been researching and read of other conditions in her breed that I’d like to look into.” 

You caught on quick. “Right, and we wouldn’t want to overwhelm Elizabeth 3rd with so much on her first visit! It might be best to stretch these concerns over multiple appointments just so we can do the best job possible for her.” 

“And you can teach me what to look out for and how to find them.” Jumin settled Elizabeth 3rd back in her carrier, pawing at you through the mesh, pink pads just barely peeking through. 

“Of course! And you are more than welcome to call! In fact…” 

You tore off a piece of paper from your notes, scribbling quickly before giving it to him. “Here is my personal phone number, for any questions you may have.” 

Jumin smirked and tucked it away in his pocket. “I expect I could find quite a few until our next appointment.” 

You clicked your pen, simpering. “I’ll be patiently waiting, Mr. Han.” 

“Jumin is fine.” He stretched out his hand, palm open. “In fact, allow me to properly introduce myself – we weren’t given the proper chance. I’m Jumin Han. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Warmth reached your cheeks, but you didn’t object, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “MC. The pleasure is all mine. I really do look forward to seeing you again, Jumin.” 

It was rare Jumin could say the same, but for once he did, he truly, truly did. 

“As do I.” 

[lixis-sin-cauldron]

The Princess and The Hawk [Hawks | Keigo Takami] Pt. 1

Part Two: Available Here Rating: Explicit  18+ content MINORS DNI. Pairing:  Keigo Takami (Hawks) X fem!reader Word Count: 6.9k Kinks and Warnings: Animal Violence, Blood

Summary: A dull routine, every day like the last. You're comfortable, if a little lonely. Who knew a simple walk home could change so much? Can also be read on Ao3 here: The Princess and The Hawk Big thank you to my lovely beta reader @lilleeboi 

Passing through the park to get home after work was your main way to de-stress after dealing with customers all day, the time of day left the area fairly empty and the fall air carried the wonderful scents of the season that wafted through the trees and flowers. Normally, it was the most calming part of your day. Normally.

Today, you were startled out of your calm daze by the screeching and hissing of two animals going at each other. Your eyes snapped toward the source of the noise, a twisting ball of fur a few meters ahead, beside the park walkway. Correction: a twisting ball of fur and feathers.

A large grey tabby had somehow been able to snag a very large brown bird that was currently doing its best to fend the feline off as it tried going for the bird’s throat, its talons pushing against the cat’s stomach, a smear of red in the fur where it pressed.

Nature is intense, you thought.

You knew better than to interrupt, they were both wild animals, predators that killed to feed and survive, you had no right to push your human views onto the fight. Wanting to return to your calm mindset, you hurried by the unsettling sight, willing your shaky legs forward. You didn't want to think of the fate that awaited the loser.

As the scuffle disappeared out of sight behind you, you heard a hoarse squawk that felt as if it was directed at you. Involuntarily, you turned to see the cat had gained the upper hand. It had pinned the bird on its stomach and was about to clamp down its jaw on the nape of its neck in a killing blow.

Your eyes met the bird’s, a striking golden-brown, and it seemed to be crying for help with its stare.

Forgoing your previous judgment – unable to ignore the desperate plea – you rushed towards the pair, slipped your purse off, and swung it with full force. It connected cleanly against the tabby just before it was able to land its killing blow. It tumbled backward, and after rolling for a moment, righted itself and turned towards you and its stolen prey. It stared you down, hissing deeply, then wincing. It let loose another deep hiss before retreating.

Heart pounding, you took a deep breath and looked at the bird that you had saved, almost positive it wouldn’t be there – having flown off when it was freed. However, there it remained, resting in the grass, its chest heaving just like yours.

“Oh geez,” Taking to your knees you hovered hands over the wounded avian, unsure of what to do. “Please don’t die.”

The bird shifted, trying to stand and move its wings, as if in response to your plea to prove it was fine. However, as it stretched its left-wing it flinched, wobbled for a moment, and collapsed back to the dirt.

You whimpered, unsure of what to do. It was clearly hurt, if you left it alone there was a good chance it would be attacked again or just die of its wounds anyway.

Ugh, why did I do that? There was no point in intervening, it’s going to die either way.

The bird still heaved, giving you a sideways stare. It seemed to study you with its gaze and tried moving again, letting out a cry as it did. Your heart gave a pang at the sight; it clearly wanted to live. How could you just leave it after stepping in?

“Do-don’t move,” you stuttered, reaching forward, “I’ll bring you to a vet, they’ll help you.”

Surprisingly, the bird gave no resistance to your touch. When you found trouble grasping it, especially while trying not to hurt it in the process, you peeled off your light jacket and gently wrapped the fowl in that. Once sure you had a hold that didn’t cause further damage, you raced off in the direction of the nearest animal clinic you could find.

“He’s pretty beat up, but nothing life-threatening,” The Veterinary nurse explained, softly running a thumb over the bird’s crown, its plumage fluttering at the touch. “We cleaned the cuts and the left-wing has a small hairline fracture. It’s been properly set but will need at least 2 to 3 weeks to fully heal, so we wrapped the wing so it can’t move. You’ll need to-”

“Wait, me? Why do I have to?” you were glad to hear the animal would be okay, but you were alarmed to hear they expect you to take care of it.

They looked at you in surprise, “Isn’t he yours?”

“No!” You waved your hands frantically, “I found it being attacked and just… stepped in. I don’t even know what breed it- err, he is. Let alone how to care for him.”

“That’s surprising, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an exotic bird just randomly being found like that.”

“Exotic?”

“Yes, this handsome man is a Red-Tailed Hawk. They’re a North American bird. For it to be in Japan that means it was brought here and must have an owner, so I just assumed that was you.”

“O-oh.” You can’t say you were that surprised at the revelation, you had never seen a bird that looked like the hawk. A closer examination showed that it wasn’t just brown, but a beautiful mix of dark brown, white, and tan. Along with strikingly red tail feathers that you had been sure at the time was blood.

“This one seems very special too, normally the tail feathers are more of a cinnamon-red.” The nurse provided, seeming to have followed your thought process, “He’s very well cared for and in amazing shape, aside from the scuffle. If he hadn’t been grounded due to the wing, I doubt that cat would have ever touched him or stood a chance if it had been able to.”

“The cat didn’t do that?”

“The fracture is very clean; an animal’s bite would have crushed the bone.”

“Oh, that’s good… I guess?” you studied the hawk, resting in a box filled with a plush towel that the clinic had provided, he was perfectly calm under the expert’s touch. You were sure the calm state was in part of the fact he was full of painkillers at the moment, but you had an urge to follow the example and pet the resting creature yourself. You held back though, instead returning to your original topic, “Uh, as I said, he’s not mine so are… you guys able to take him since he’s a lost pet?”

Their strokes of the feather head ceased, instead rising up to scratch their forehead, “Sometimes we do that, sure, but right now we’re a little full plus it normally best for a bird sanctuary to take them but in this case….”

 “In this case…?”

“They’re trained and equipped to handle local wildlife and such. With this being an exotic breed, they wouldn’t take it in due to the trouble it could cause.”

“So… what does that mean for him? You said it would take a few weeks for the wing to heal, so he can’t fly and as a pet, he may not survive even if he could fly.” You had an idea of where the conversation was heading but you really hoped you were wrong.

“There are a few places I could check to see if they could take him in while they searched for the owner, but with how late it is I’d have to wait until tomorrow to contact them and they may not be able to take him right away even if they could…”

You sighed, “Would it be… hard to take care of him for a few days?”

The nurse beamed, happy to hear you volunteering, “Given his condition, no, not really,” They picked up a bag that had been sitting on the table beside the bird’s box and pulled out the contents. “The pain medication would keep him mellow for the most part, so even if he wasn’t such a gentleman,” They preened at the bird, commenting on how composed he had been during the whole ordeal. “You wouldn’t have much trouble handling him. You just need to apply this one orally every twice a day and this one on the cuts—”

You struggled into your apartment, the box in your arms, and your keys fighting for dominance as you unlocked the door. The keys lost and fumbled to the ground as the door teetered open.

“Fuckbucket," you cursed.

Leaving them on the ground, you carried the precious cargo past your couch and to the dining room table at the far edge of the small apartment and set it down as carefully as possible. The hawk had fallen asleep during your travel home and you were very keen to keep it that way.

After ensuring he wasn’t going to wake, you returned to the entrance and retrieved your keys as well as the shopping bag that rested next to the doorway.

While the clinic had been happy to give advice on how to care for the bird, and even charging just the cost of the visit and nothing else – you’d still had to call a ride-share to take the bird home and even stop at a pet store to purchase things to help care for him. Since it wasn’t like you actually owned anything to use while he lived with you.

A big piece of advice to make a safe space for the hawk to rest since you wouldn’t have a cage to place it in, free-roaming was the preferred option if it felt well enough to move around. They also provided a contact line to call if he suddenly became violent. While the wounded wing was wrapped, he couldn’t fly but the talons and beak could still cause damage if you weren’t careful. They would contact you as well once they had a place for him to go while the owner was being looked for.

Stretching with an exhausted sigh, your gaze returned to the box and found the hawk now awake and his head now resting on the edge watching you with glazed eyes.

“Uh, hi,” You blinked, wondering why you had just greeted an animal. Though he definitely didn’t feel like an animal when you locked eyes with him. You had a disconcerting feeling when he looked at you like he was analyzing you.

He let out a weak squawk in reply to the greeting.

“Right…” you decided to just go with it, picking up the purchased items you approached the table cautiously and started setting up an area next to the box with feed and water, “So, you’ll be staying with me for a bit, just while you heal and we find your home.”

He ruffled his feathers as the word ‘home’. You weren’t sure how to take that if it even meant anything to start with.

“So, if you can… I don’t know, not cause too much trouble, that would be great. Think you can do that for me, buddy?” You asked, holding out a hesitant hand to him, curled so the back of your fingers were present.

He stared at the extended appendage and you were sure he was going to bite you, but he leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against your knuckles.

Your heart fluttered, a smile blossoming across your face at the sight. He suddenly seemed a lot less frightening to you; realizing that he was tired and sore, and maybe even thankful to have a safe place after what he had experienced.

He withdrew his touch and curled in the box, head under his free wing and only a moment later, gentle snoring could be heard."

Wish I could fall asleep that fast. You snorted, laughing at the idea of envying a drugged-up fowl.

The concept of sleep did appeal very strongly after the evening you’d had; so, you ate a quick dinner, showered, and slipped into your bed, leaving the door ajar in case you needed to access the living/dining space quickly.

Your oversized t-shirt hung off your shoulder loosely, your underwear peeking out from underneath as your arms stretched above your head while walking into your tiny kitchen. After withdrawing a bottle of water from the fridge, you lazily looked around your home as you sipped it. You sputtered as your eyes fell upon the box resting on the table, coughing harshly as you forced the water from your lungs, having forgotten the previous day’s events in your sleepy state.

The box was tipped over sideways, the towel in a bundle on the table.

“No, no, no,” you chanted, rushing over and looking around for the wounded animal, “Where-” the words caught as the towel squirmed, the dark brown hawk head popping out from beneath it. “Oh, thank god.”

You were wide awake now.

“You scared the living hell out of me, buddy,” you reached forward and ran a knuckle across his crown, enjoying the softness. You leaned over, reaching eye level with him, “You have a nightmare or something?” You cooed.

You noticed his eyes drift, losing connection with yours, and move downwards, his head giving a tilt as they settled. You followed his gaze and realized you were giving the bird a clear view right down your shirt, where you were currently braless. You reacted instantly, straightening yourself and holding the shirt close to your bosom with a flushed face.

It’s a bird! you reminded yourself, He was probably just reacting to the fabric moving. He’s probably hungry. I need to give him his medicine, too.

Calming your nerves, you retrieved the small bag with medication. “Hey, buddy, you probably don’t feel great right? This will help numb that pain. You mind letting me put this in your mouth?” You held a syringe up, filled with a paste, and capped with a rubber tip that you could slide into his beak.

He seemed to glower at the suggestion, and you were starting to dread having to force his beak open when he shoved the towel off his back and stood up wobbling.

“Wow, you’re very clever, aren’t you? ” you exclaimed.

He huffed at the praise, parting his beak marginally to allow the tip to slide in. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, you carefully slid the syringe tip into his mouth and pushed the plunger just enough to provide the proper dose as you had been instructed.

The hawk reacted negatively, chomping his beak and twisting his head, evidently not enjoying the taste of the medicine. He strode over the water bowl resting on the tabletop and dunked his beak into the water, small bubbles rolling the surface as he guzzled down the liquid.

The sight was so shocking, you couldn’t help but start laughing, your chest heaved as you gasped for air between your cackles.

The hawk, having finished his drink, seemed unimpressed with your reaction.

“Oh, come on,” you chided after regaining your composure. “That was hilarious. Geez, I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. Thanks for that, buddy.”

He shook, his feathers fluffing, then turned and pushed himself back under the towel, clearly unamused.

“Aw, baby’s embarrassed.” You cooed with another chuckle before returning to the kitchen and fixing yourself some breakfast. Once you’d eaten you returned to him to refill the water bowl he had downed and finally noticed that the bowl with the bird feed had been overturned at some point, most likely when he had flipped the box during the night.

“Can you not make a mess of the apartment?” You nagged, cleaning the mess, and refilling the bowl. He gave no reaction, his bright red tail the only visible part sticking out from under the towel. You gently poked the protruding feathers, feeling him lurch in surprise at the touch, “Hey, make sure you eat, you’ll feel horrible with no food in your stomach.”

The hawk rolled under the towel, sticking his head out to glower at the bowl and then you.

“Someone’s in a foul mood,” You blinked, then grinned. “Pun not intended.”

You could swear he rolled his eyes.

Just as you were about to comment on the action, your phone alarm went off. You groaned, “Time for work,” You studied the bird and the sideways box. “They said free roaming would be best since I don’t have a pen or cage big enough for you…” You shifted a dining room chair so it was angled against the table. “If, uh, you want to get down just use this instead of trying to fly… okay?”

His reply was crawling back under the towel, making sure to be completely hidden this time.

Still talking to a bird.

You grumbled something nonsensical, then returned to your room to change your clothes. Once ready to go, you padded towards your door, pulling your hair into a ponytail and glanced at the lump under the towel, and wondered if you should try and call off instead. You decided against it, knowing there was little you could change by staying home.

“I’ll… be back before you need more meds,” you called out. No reaction. You sighed, wondering why you felt like there would be, and exited your home.

You were more than relieved when you returned home and found it in the same condition you had left it that morning. In fact, you realized as you checked for damages, it seemed as if the bird hadn’t moved the entire time you’d been at work. You trailed over to the table and saw that he was where you had left him, snoozing away under the towel, his beak barely protruding.

“I’m home,” you said softly, running a fingertip over the exposed beak.

He let out a soft cooing sound at the touch, wiggling enough to expose his head and look at you with his intense golden eyes.

“Hey, buddy.”

Another coo with a head tilt so he rested on his cheek as he stared, seeming somewhat dazed.

“You okay?” you asked worriedly, he had been more responsive until now. You were about to call the clinic when you saw that the feed bowl had not been touched at all, no dip in the seed to indicate that he had moved anything within. “You haven’t eaten at all?” you declared, picking up the bowl. “I told you-” you paused and sighed, wondering once again why you spoke to an animal like he understood you.

“Do you not like this brand or blend or something?” you muttered. You pulled out your phone to see what type of bird feed was best for him. You realized something unfortunate. Voles, rats, rabbits… “I bought the wrong type of food.” You groaned. You had been in such a rush to get back to the rideshare you had just grabbed the recommended bag of bird feed, not even thinking to make sure that your new roommate could actually eat it.

You didn’t really have any prey type meat just lying around your kitchen. He needed to eat something.

 “Ugh, maybe I can mix some… gravy or something into the seed. Maybe that will work for him until I can get something better.” You left the avian to stride over to the kitchen, opening the fridge in search of an additive to spur the bird’s appetite since, according to Google, he could eat the seed if he had to, but was just choosing not to.

Before you had really started your search the hawk let out a low screech, pulling your attention back to him. Your head snapped over in reaction, surprised to see him standing on the table and eyeballing you, giving a strong feeling of a hunter studying its prey.

“Uh, what’s up, buddy?” you asked nervously.

He shifted his weight between his feet for a few moments before dipping his head down and hooking his beak around the brim of the metal feed bowl. Once gripped, he raised his head, bringing the bowl with and held it in the air for a second while he fought to keep balance at the sudden weight. You were about to call out for him to stop, in case he got hurt, when he thrust his head downwards and released the bowl.

The bowl bounced off the tabletop and tumbled to the floor, spinning. Feed flew all around him, covering the table and floor.

Stunned, you didn’t move, the apartment filled with the sounds of the bowl spinning in place before settling with a dull clunk. The hawk arched his back and let out a defiant squawk at you, finalizing the production you’d just witnessed.

You blinked, processing what had just occurred before standing up, furious, “Are you serious?” you snapped at the proud bird. “You – that – I said don’t make – I don’t even- Okay!” You shouted, unable to process your thoughts, “I get it, you don’t want the damn seed but what the fuck. I have to clean all this up! That- you-”

I’m shouting a bird.

You sighed, cupping your face in your hands and letting out a long groan. What the hell was wrong with this bird, you had never met an animal that was so damn- you didn’t even know how to describe it.

“Let me see what I have,” you hissed at the fowl, wondering if hawk tasted like chicken.

Hm, chicken...

You returned to your excavation of the fridge and found the pack of chicken breasts you had intended to cook the night before when you had been planning to be home earlier and not as tired as you ended up being.

Guess I can make this tonight and share some with him. Not that you found him worthy of this type of treat at the moment.

“Wait… Can hawks eat chicken? Isn’t that like-” your sentence was interrupted by the bird giving a squawk, he was shifting his weight between his feet again but more in an excited dance than a show as before. “What? You like chicken?”

Another squawk.

“Fine.” Ripping the package open, pulling one breast out, and to your cutting board. A few minutes later you set down a bowl of the raw meat in front of him, cut into bite-sized cubes for easier consumption.

He stared at the bowl, suddenly seeming reluctant.

“Oh, what now?” You groaned, pitching your brow.

Fluffing his feathers and looking at you, his gaze shifted to behind you back towards the kitchen.

“What, you want more?”

He huffed and bowed his head, though that lasted only a moment before he held it high again and had a confident look as if having set his mind to something. Wobbling, he padded to the edge of the table and hooked his beak into the dining chair you had set up that morning for him and started climbing down it.

You found the process fascinating, surprised by his sudden burst of energy. Stepping out of the way, you watched as he landed on the tiled floor, starting his way to the kitchen by hopping and tapping along while doing his best to keep balance. He reached the middle of the area and stood in front of the oven. He was panting, having worn himself out with the exercise. However, he wasn’t done, clearly wanting to strike home just what he was thinking, as he bent his head forward and tapped his forehead against the metal appliance, repeating the gesture softly a few times before stopping and resting it there, turning to look at you to ensure you were watching and understood.

“I’m guessing that means you want it cooked.”

The confirmation seemed to be correct, as he gave a weak note in reply and slid to the floor, exhausted by his show; he landed softly on his back, feet in air.

You stepped up to him and bent down, gently brushing the plumage of his stomach, “You are the most spoiled pet I have ever seen. Fine, I’ll cook the damn chicken. Don’t expect anything fancy, though.”

He only let out a long exhale in reply.

You returned the tired bird to the table, grabbed the bowl of chicken cubes, and began once again to prepare the request. A quick check on the phone and you decided to just boil the meat, not adding any spices or extras since that could hurt his stomach. You also did a double-check and removed any excess fat, noting that also wasn’t great for him

While the cubes boiled, you made yourself your own meal, a mouthwatering bowl of katsu over rice.

You set the boiled meat down in front of the starving avian. “Happy?” You sighed, hoping he would finally eat something.

He huffed at the bowl, as if contemplating how to also toss it in a showy fashion, then bent his head and took a cube. He chomped down on it and shivered. Pausing for a moment, he tilted his head in contemplation then bent again to grab another.

“Glad to see it’s good enough for your refined palate.”

Grabbing your own meal, you plopped down at the table opposite the bird and started eating while browsing your phone. You were only a few bites in when you noticed the hawk leaning over you, staring at the bowl.

“Noooo. No!” you pulled the bowl close to your chest, “You have your chicken, this is mine! And fried foods are bad for birds.”

He fluffed, giving you what you could only describe as puppy dog eyes.

How???

You grumbled, “One bite, one!”  You pinched a piece of katsu with your chopsticks, making a small bird-sized piece, and lifted the morsel for the bird to take. He did so eagerly, snatching the piece and sliding it down his throat.

He let out a contented coo.

“Glad you like it- No,” you snapped as he started giving the same look once again. “I said one, and I meant it! I’m in charge here, mister!”

He seemed to relent, his shoulders slumping then he tilted his head again, a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Wha- Uh.” Your voice caught as he slipped off the table into your lap and pressed himself into your chest, nuzzling you. You held back a squeal of delight at the surprising cuteness of the hawk while holding your food in the air with one hand. “That’s a dirty move and I refuse-”

He cooed, looking up at you with big eyes.

“One more.”

He gave a rumbling sound of happiness as he downed the next piece, continuing to snuggle you.

You set the bowl down and gave your full attention to the large bird, amazed at how affectionate he was. You ran your fingers through his feathers, finding soft down. You lost yourself to the petting; he seemingly enjoyed the pampering. You were unsure how, but you were now at the injured fowl’s mercy.

Both of you jumped as your phone went off in your pocket, interrupting the cuddle session. Holding him still, you retrieved it and answered quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hi, there! This is y/n?”

“Uh, yeah… this is?”

“I’m calling from the animal clinic! You brought the lovely red-tail hawk in yesterday?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry I didn’t expect you to call so soon!”

“No worries! Hope I’m not bothering. Are you okay to talk?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Great! I wanted to let you know that one of the rescue centers we work with is able to take the darling in. They can have someone swing by ASAP if you like.”

“Oh, already?” you eyed the animal resting in your arm.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I just- I thought it would take a few days.”

“…would you prefer to have their number? That way when you’re… ready, you can call them, and they can come by?”

You pursed your lips, suddenly unsure of yourself. You were in no position to have a pet, especially a predator… yet you found yourself reluctant to let him go. In the short time he had been there, you had laughed and smiled more than you had for a while. It was a welcome disruption to your dull life.

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

They let out a small chuckle, “Sure thing. I’ll let them know. They’ve also posted a bulletin about him, to help track down the owner.”

“Oh, that’s great. I hope they get found, he’s very… special. I’m sure he’s missed.”

“I’m glad to hear he’s doing well! Please feel free to reach out to us or the center if you have any questions or trouble.”

“Will do… thanks.”

Great. Just great. You sighed as you hung up and studied the bird nestled against your breast.

“Welp, I’m crazy. You’re stuck with me for a bit longer, hope you’re okay with that, buddy.”

He nuzzled further into you as if saying thanks for letting him stay.

“Guess if… you’re staying I should give you a name?”

He straightened at that and locked eyes, staring you down fiercely. Clearly, he found the matter very important.

You gave a nervous chuckle, “Don’t have high hopes there, I’m far from great at naming things, bud.” you paused, considering your statement. “Actually, I think I’ve already named you. How does ‘Buddy’ sound?”

He made a disgruntled noise but proceeded to bury himself back into your chest, nuzzling the fabric of your shirt, springing faintly against the fat of your breasts.

“Welp, best you get… Speaking of you getting things, you’re due for your next batch of meds.”

He was less than pleased with the reminder of the foul-tasting substance.

The following morning you woke not to your alarm, but with a start to the sound of someone talking in your living room, the sound seeping in through the ajar door. Your heart raced with panic as you attempted to make sense of the sound. Slipping from the bed and grabbing the wooden bat you kept at your bedside for such events, you approached the door, glancing around the frame to see who dared to enter your abode. Mind whirling, you expected to see masked figures looting your home or-

Buddy! The bird had been asleep on the table when you had gone to bed. What if they hurt him during their looting!

Forgoing your own safety, you rushed out into the open area, only lit by the dim morning sun through the shaded balcony glass door. You reached the couch, brandishing the bat, ready to swing in a moment’s notice. Surveying the room, you found the source of the talking – the television.

Buddy was perched on the couch, the remote next to him, staring at the television. It was on a news channel, going over the latest hero and villain activities.

“What the hell!” you screeched, lowering the bat.

The bird’s head snapped towards you, having not heard your approach. He reacted at your appearance, flapping his free wing and giving a surprised cry.

“You scared the living hell out of me - again! Stop doing that, my heart can only take so much!” You reached for the remote. “How the hell did you even turn that on? I was sure I left it on the ta-” you cut off, reeling your hand back as Buddy jumped atop the device, blocking you from it.

You blinked, confused, “Are… you watching that?”

He squawked in confirmation.

“You are not a normal bird.”

He seemed happy at your realization, fluffing his feathers and stepping off the remote, laying down next to it, and returning his gaze to the screen.

“Whatever, I’m up now. Guess I’ll make breakfast.”

He gave an excited chirp at the suggestion.

“Yeah, yeah. Yours too.”

You joined the fowl on the couch while you ate, giving him another bowl of boiled meat – which he ate disgruntledly.

“I’ll have to swing by the store after work, see how much discount meat I can get you… wonder if the pet store will take back a barely used bag of feed…”

You were already getting used to speaking to the bird, speaking aloud your random thoughts as you went about your morning routine. Cleaning up, giving him his meds, prepping his food and water for while you were gone. You were enjoying the addition he was adding to your day and being able to talk to someone as well – especially since he did provide a type of reply. You enjoyed it so much so that you were reluctant when your alarm for work went off.

“Back to the grind,” you sighed, trudging to your bedroom closet to change out of your nightshirt. “ Was a bit chilly yesterday, should get my spare jacket.” You hadn’t gotten a chance to wash the one from the night you saved Buddy, and you weren’t eager to use a bloody jacket. You spotted the spare folded on the closet shelf, resting under a box.

You pulled the clothing free while doing your best to keep the box in place – your best wasn’t good enough, since just as you were sure it was free, it snagged, and the box joined in the escapade. You tumbled to the ground as the object hit you, its contents partially falling out onto you and the floor.

“Owww,” you whined, rubbing your butt. After regaining yourself, you examined the mess you had created and instantly regretted trying to retrieve the spare jacket, your eyes tearing up at the box’s contents.

It was just a random assortment of objects, all-male ordinated – a razor, a pair of jeans and two t-shirts, a hairbrush, some socks, and other miscellaneous items.

“Dammit…” you mumbled, trying to hold back sobs. With everything that had happened the past two days you had actually forgotten the damn thing was in your closet for the first time in months.

Your self-pity was interrupted as you felt something soft press against your arm. You looked over and saw Buddy standing beside you looking concerned, the sound from the tumble must have drawn him into your room to check on you.

“I’m okay… I’m not crying ‘cause I’m hurt. Promise,” you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your nerves, and started collecting the fallen items back into the box. “It’s a bit silly to cry over.”

He tilted his head in question.

“It’s just some stuff my ex left behind. I should just burn it…” Maybe because you were so used to just saying whatever you wanted to the hawk, you kept following the train wreck of your thoughts, “He cheated on me but somehow worked it to him being the one to break up when I confronted him. I should be glad he’s gone but… here I am, pining over some asshole and his discarded laundry.” Despite your best effort, you started sobbing, “How pathetic am I-”

Buddy pressed into your arm once again, cutting the tirade, and gave a small coo.

You pulled the bird into your arms, holding him close and pressing your face into him, your tears rolling over the water-proof feathers. You stayed like that for a time, buddy not even trying to pull from your embrace. You let him slip from you, your sobs dying away. You felt tired and wanted to crawl back in bed, but work was waiting.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, rubbing Buddy’s cheek. You finished gathering the items, stood, and stared at the box.

Just throw it away.

Your grip trembled as you held it.

Get rid of it.

You slid the box back onto the shelf.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmured, glancing away from the concerned hawk.

Time slipped by after that, a new routine being built around your new roommate. You had moments of conflict due to his strange personality, but overall, you enjoyed having him in your home. Even with the dip into your finances that he caused, between meat and clinic visits. Another interesting addition to your day was how your mornings always had a little surprise from him. Mainly him doing something to jolt you awake since he seemed to be a very early riser.

This morning, however, had one of your preferred surprises, your eyelids felt heavy as your brain booted up and registered the light snoring that was taking place next to you. You blinked, looking around for the source, and found the fowl resting next to you, on his back feet in the air and head lolling, on an open pillow.

Giving a sheepish grin, you watched him for a bit, seeing him twitch in his sleep. You had come to terms with his abnormal behavior, your research into the breed showing he did not act like other red-tails or even just other birds in general.

“Buddy,” you purred, reaching over and shaking a talon lightly.

His eyes popped open and then blinked slowly, fighting away his own sleepiness. He turned over and quivered, his feathers fluffing and head jerking.

“Morning.” You giggled, enjoying the show, before turning in the bed and burying your face into the pillow, reluctant to get up. Looking back at him, you saw him observing you intently. Just another thing you’d gotten used to, the way he seemed to examine you up and down with a focused gaze randomly.

You gave a smirk, peering back through your messy hair before pushing yourself up to sit on your knees and stretching your arms up above your head, your joints popping satisfactorily. As always with your nightshirt, it raised with the motion, exposing your thighs to view.

Buddy rolled as you stretched, your movement causing him to be displaced from his resting place, his head landing softly against those thighs as they cushioned the tumble.

“That wasn’t convincing at all,” you laughed, tugging the shirt to the side to lock eyes with the endearing avian. He was very affectionate, finding any way he found to cuddle with you when possible. With a yawn, you checked your phone for the time and saw a reminder on the lock screen. “Oh right! We better get ready; we have the vet appointment today. Your wing should be all healed up!”

As always, the hawk gave a human-like reaction, quickly straightening himself and giving an excited shriek at the announcement.

Buddy wouldn’t stop extending his freed wing as he rested on the perch at the front desk while you signed the paperwork for the visit.

“Calm down, you,” you laughed, glad to see him so happy.

“So, you really plan to keep him?” The nurse asked, grinning at the sight of the overjoyed bird as well.

“I mean… his owner hasn’t been found and he’s not a wild bird. I’ve gotten used to him, so it just seemed best?”

“I think it’s great. He’s lucky you found him. Uh, do you have a leash?”

Buddy flapped and shrieked in disapproval at the remark.

“I saw bird leashes were a thing, but he’s so well behaved I wasn’t sure I should get one?”

“I get your reasoning, but he could fly off, he’s already gotten lost and in trouble once.”

“That’s true…” you looked Buddy over, seeing his hunched shoulders, “Do I need to leash you, bud?”

With a quick flap, he glided off the perch and onto your shoulder, being careful not to cut you with his talons as he steadied himself.

“Wow, you have him wrapped around your finger.”

“I think we’ll be okay.” You decided, scratching Buddy’s chin.

Finishing off the paperwork you exited the clinic, the hawk still perched on your shoulder, sure you were an interesting sight for those you passed. You walked with an eye on your phone, swiping through various avian products.

“We should get you proper stuff, perches, and such, for the apartment. We’ve been making do with the makeshift setup, but now that you’re staying we should-”

He shifted harshly, drawing your attention to him. He was staring intensely down the street, where a store had various televisions on display in a window, an assortment of shows airing with captions turning on. You sighed and approached the display, knowing the bird’s inclination for news. Sure enough, his preferred channel was airing on one of the displays.

“Just for a minute, okay?” you stated, returning to your shopping as he stared at the moving pictures. You kept your word and started to move shortly after, but Buddy gave a loud shriek in protest when you did so, his eyes still focused on the display. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” You looked at the screen, finally paying attention to the content.

“-the villain has been in a coma since the intense battle with Hawks, so he has yet to be able to answer any questioning as to the whereabouts of the missing number two hero and the other heroes that disappeared-”

You let out a surprised hiss as you felt Buddy’s talons dig into your shoulder, it didn’t hurt thanks to the padding of your coat, but it caught you off guard after how careful he always was. However, before you could reprimand the action, he launched himself and flapped his wings quickly, taking off into the air.

You stared at the hawk as he soared, at first impressed by the way he moved so easily after just getting the wrapping removed, then distraught as you saw him continue to fly away.

“…Buddy?”

——Tag List ——

(Please check this post if you would like to be included!)

@thisisthehardestthing​ @cheeriecherry​ @mindninjax​

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 4

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Wow this one is a lot longer. Sorry this one took a while. I’m back at work, and then I’ll be back in school. As always, enjoy :) Gif not mine!

Warnings: kitten angst, date fluff, and brief mention of dog distress.

Thursday couldn’t come fast enough for either of you. Vet clinics were always busy during the summer no matter where in the country you were. People had more free time which they happened to spend outside with their pets. More people were bringing their dogs in for snake bites than you were used to back East. That said, you had never seen a dog or cat get bitten by a rattlesnake before, but you were already on your third one this week.

You were still texting Billie when you had the chance, but she was busier this week too so you didn’t usually hear back from her until after work. You were happy to hear that Mickey had been the first kitten to open his eyes on Tuesday and another couple had followed this morning. You were being bombarded with kitten pictures and questions as they got older, but you loved it. They looked so cute, and you were thrilled that Billie was enjoying their company.

She still had someone take care of them during the day, but at night you would usually get a kitten report and a picture of the entire family. Bit was being a little more receptive to taking care of Mickey again now that he was a little bigger, but she still didn’t pay him as much attention as the others. As soon as he was done nursing, he was usually moved meaning that Billie had to keep him around her a lot between feedings to keep him warm.

They didn’t have names yet, but Billie had told you she’d decide once they came in for their visit next week. Hopefully it would be a little easier to tell their sex at this point, but you weren’t optimistic since they would only be a little more than three weeks old. Usually you couldn’t do accurate sex determination until 5 weeks, but at the very least it would be another opportunity to see the kittens and Billie again.

Billie was just as busy as you were this week. Her producer had told her that she had a lot of ADR to do. A majority of her dialogue from the first few episodes needed to be recorded. These episodes had taken place in one of the noisiest buildings she’d ever filmed in. An old school for the mute ironically.

As a result, she’d been spending a lot of time running back and forth between the studio and home this week, and by the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around she was exhausted. She was excited for tomorrow night though. She’d already made a reservation at a restaurant she hoped you’d like. It was nicer than the café and definitely fitting for your first date because it was definitely a date.

Billie was distracted from her plans for tomorrow night by her assistant’s knock on the door. She had been taking her lunch break which was almost over when Michelle came to find her.

Billie turned with a smile assuming the blonde was just going to tell her it was time to get back to work. She hadn’t been expecting the stressed out look she wore. Billie hadn’t even considered what was actually wrong.

“What is it?”

Michelle shifted some of the things in her arms to one side so she could hold up her phone.

“Heather called. There’s been an accident with one of the kittens.”

You were just finishing lunch when Billie called you. You were sitting at your desk trying to finish up some records between eating when you hear your phone buzzing from under the pile of papers. When you realized that the continued buzzing meant someone’s trying to call you, the shifting of papers becomes slightly more frantic. You let most of them drop into your lap or on the floor before you manage to grab your phone. Seeing it’s Billie you smile before answering quickly.

“Hey, Billie, wh-?”

You don’t get to finish your sentence as Billie interrupts you in a frantic voice. You listen carefully while grabbing the nearest pen to take notes.

“Y/N, Heather called. Mickey fell from her pocket. She thinks he’s okay, but would you have time to see him?”

You don’t even bother looking at your schedule knowing that you’d make the time before telling Billie to bring him in. She hesitated slightly before mentioning that she couldn’t leave work and that Heather would be bringing him. You said that was fine before asking if she told you anything specifically about what had happened.

It sounded like he had been moving around more than expected and he’d just walked out of her pocket. She said it was only a few feet, but you said it was still a good idea to bring him in. You hung up with her after promising to give her a call once you took a look at him.

You quickly picked up your papers before putting Mickey on the schedule and heading downstairs to let someone know. Billie said that she was already on her way because she’d called from the car not sure of where to go, so she’d be here soon hopefully.

You get downstairs and see that most people are still on lunch. A few assistants are still on the clock, and the first one you see is on the phone. You go into the back and see that Erin is still eating lunch with another assistant, so you intend to continue your search for someone else when she sees you.

“Hey Dr. Y/L/N. What’s up?”

You decide to tell her because you have a feeling she wouldn’t mind cutting her lunch a little short. You’re not wrong and the brunette jumps up from her seat with a horrified look.

“What happened to the little Howard kitten?!”

You sigh as you explain the situation while Erin goes to the computer to clock back in. She then goes to the schedule and notices immediately that kitten 6 is now named.

“Aw his name’s Mickey. That’s so cute! So is she on her way?”

Erin follows you into the pharmacy as you nod in confirmation before you correct yourself.

“Actually, her pet sitter is bringing him in.”

You don’t miss how Erin visibly deflates at this news, and you feel bad for a second before she sighs in defeat.

“Aw well. They still have their regular kitten visits for me to fangirl over her.”

You barely hold back a laugh as you think about how Billie would respond to this. You have a feeling she’d like having a fan here at the office. Hell there are probably more.

“Have you watched any more of her show?”

The question surprises you but you try not to let it show as you mentally add up all the episodes of Billie’s show you’ve watched since your lunch on Saturday. You watched a couple a night if you weren’t too tired so that’s maybe 10 or so. You say this to Erin and she nods before asking a follow up question. You have no problem answering it because you have some time to kill, but you also don’t want to give anything away.

You hadn’t really considered how things would change at work if you started dating Billie. You doubted your paths would cross here other than when she brought her kittens. You didn’t expect random visits since this was a little out of her way, but you couldn’t be sure. You two hadn’t talked about that because well you hadn’t even gone on a real first date yet.

“Are you liking it? Have you seen the episode when she was in that asylum?”

You nod and open your mouth to respond when you hear the front door open. You hear a frantic voice and figure you know who it is. Erin picks up on this too and goes up front to go ahead and bring them to an exam room. She’d go in as soon as she did in case it was an emergency.

“Heather, can you tell me what happened?”

You felt bad for the younger woman. She was crying and barely calm enough to speak. You had a feeling she was terrified about getting fired or worse and unfortunately you couldn’t really reassure her of anything until you looked at Mickey.

The kitten was definitely bigger since you last saw him and that made you smile, but he was very sedate. He wasn’t bleeding and he had no obvious injuries, but as you carefully examined him, he definitely seemed off. You ignored the sound of Bit meowing from her carrier as Heather wipes her nose with a tissue before shaking her head.

“I was walking downstairs with him in my pocket like usual but before I got to the bottom of the stairs, I felt him fall out. I don’t—I don’t know how he did it, I didn’t feel him move or anything.”

You watch as the redhead begins to cry again and you rush to offer any reassurance you can at this point.

“Well he’s not bleeding so that’s a good sign. Do you know if he hit anything other than the ground? Did he roll down the stairs or anything like that?”

Heather shook her head before telling you that he’d just fallen out and then she saw him at the bottom of the stairs.

“He may have rolled down a few, I’m not sure. God is he going to be okay?”

You continue your exam not noting any abnormal heart rhythm or breathing patterns. You try to stand Mickey up but he definitely doesn’t want to do that. He whines slightly before falling back onto his stomach. You hear Heather mutter a curse before you come up with a plan.

“Has he nursed today, been normal otherwise?”

Heather just nods but she doesn’t look away from Mickey who is resting his head on the table, eyes closed.

“Yeah, completely normal.”

You nod before deciding to listen to him again, just to be sure. You take a minute, still not noticing anything abnormal before you share what you think.

“So the only thing I can appreciate on his exam is that he doesn’t want to stand up. His whining might be from pain, but it’s hard to tell. Does he usually make a lot of noise throughout the day?”

Heather just shakes her head and you nod before doing a couple of calculations in your head.

“Okay. Well there are a couple of things that we can do.”

You tell Heather that you can take x-rays to see if there is anything obviously broken from his fall. They could also just monitor him for the next few hours here before sending him home if nothing changes. The last and least favorable option would be to take him home and just see how he did.

Heather clearly didn’t want to do the last option as she shook her head and took a deep breath.

“No, I think I want to take x-rays to be sure, but I probably need to call Ms. Howard.”

You nod before mentioning that you promised to call her after the exam, and you don’t miss how Heather jumps on this opportunity. You don’t blame her for not wanting to talk to Billie right now. She’s probably upset and Heather’s clearly terrified. She’d buy Heather some time if that’s what she needed.

“You’ll call her?”

You nod before you look to the carrier that you assumed held all of the other kittens. That made sense. Leaving them home alone probably wouldn’t have been a good idea. God forbid something else happened.

“Of course. Just give me a few minutes and we’ll do whatever she wants. Erin’s going to take him back with us, you can wait in here if you like or the lobby.”

Heather just nods and thanks you before you retreat to the nearest phone. Erin is carefully cradling Mickey as she opens the door to the back to take him to treatment as you pick up the phone. You dial Billie’s number and wait for what feels like forever before someone you don’t recognize answers.

“Hello, this is Michelle, Ms. Howard’s assistant speaking.”

“Hi Michelle, I’m Dr. Y/L/N at Sunset clinic. I just finished looking at Mickey.”

You hear rustling in the background before hurried footsteps follow as Michelle quite possibly runs somewhere.

“Oh, you’re the vet! Great, just give me one second to find her.”

You just nod muttering ‘not a problem’ while you wait for Michelle to track Billie down. It doesn’t take long and you hear Michelle’s muffled voice saying that it’s you on the phone and Billie’s quick thank you before her voice is in your ear.

“Y/N, how is he?”

You relay what you’d told Heather to Billie and she is eerily quiet when you finish your explanation of the possible next steps. It isn’t until she speaks that you realized she jumped to worst case scenario.

“What will you have to do if he’s broken something?”

You try to figure out how to tell the most truth without getting into all of the possible complications.

“It would depend on what he broke, but I couldn’t get him to react to anything other than trying to make him stand. He was fine for everything else.”

Billie sighs and you swear you hear the flick of a lighter in the background. You don’t have to wait long for the medium to make her decision about what to do next. You’re not surprised by her decision at all. You know how much she adores Mickey.  

“Okay. You can go ahead and do x-rays, but is it possible for him to stay there for the rest of the day? I don’t want Heather to have to worry anymore about him.”

You nod because you were going to suggest keeping him here regardless. Not only was Heather really frazzled, but your techs here would be able to monitor him closely and bottle feed him.

“Of course, I’ll have my assistant take the x-rays while I go tell Heather.”

Billie sighs heavily before nodding in approval. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You smile briefly before hanging up and getting to work.  “Of course, Billie.”

Erin calls you into x-ray a couple of minutes later and you’re eternally grateful when you don’t see any broken bones. You look at the images taken thoroughly before you decide that there’s nothing concerning. Everything looks normal for a 2-week-old kitten. You’re relieved to get to tell Billie this, and you call her while holding Mickey in your lap.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi Billie. So good news, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary for him. No broken bones.”

Billie sighs in relief before taking a drag. “Thank goodness. You’ll still keep him there though?”

“Definitely. We’ll keep a close eye on him for you and you can pick him up at the end of the day.”

Billie doesn’t need to look at her schedule to know that it will be a long day, so she shakes her head.

“I’ll probably have Michelle pick him up. I’m going to be working late.”

After everything is arranged, you talk to Michelle again to get her information before hanging up. Lunch is officially over and your first afternoon appointment is here. You sigh before realizing that you need to get Mickey set up before talking to Heather. You suspect that Erin popped in and told her that everything was fine, so you take your time setting up a space for Mickey and talking to your techs about the plan.

Hopefully it will be an easy, uncomplicated afternoon for him.

Despite knowing that Mickey wasn’t in any immediate danger, it was difficult for Billie to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. She’d called Heather to confirm that she was going home and would be able to stay late with the other kittens. She made sure to let her know that she wasn’t angry at her. Just thinking about how panicky she’d been during the conversation they’d had as she drove to the vet was enough to make Billie feel bad. Once she was satisfied that she’d calmed Heather’s nerves to the best of her ability, she tried to finish up everything that needed to be done today so she could go home and see Mickey.

She still had almost a full episode-worth of dialogue to record by the end of the day. Things were moving slowly because she had to rewatch all of the footage to time everything correctly. Billie supposed it wasn’t taking any more time than usual, she was just stressed.

Michelle had been nice enough to offer to call and check up on Mickey every so often, but you’d insisted that he would be fine. You’d promised to call if anything changed, so Billie tried to resist being an overbearing parent and refused to check in.

The blonde brought another cup of coffee into the recording booth Billie was in, and she shot the other woman a grateful look.

“Thank you, dear.”

Michelle just nodded with a small smile. “Of course. Is there anything else you need, Billie?”

The medium shakes her head before taking a long sip of coffee. She wished that she could have a cigarette, but that would have to wait until her next break. Which wasn’t going to be for a while.

“No, thank you, Michelle.”

The blonde leaves Billie alone in the booth for the next few minutes she has before she begins recording again. She takes a deep breath before looking back to the pages in front of her. This wouldn’t take too long, if she focused.

Billie didn’t even believe that lie by the time she started reading.

When you went to check on Mickey next, it was after your 3pm appointment. You’d gotten really busy and hadn’t been able to spare a glance at the kitten. You knew that your techs were taking good care of him, but you also felt obligated to watch over him as well. Not just because it was your job, but because you were worried. Mickey had a lot going against him. Being the runt, basically being rejected by Bit and now falling down the stairs.

He was a tough little guy for sure, but you just wanted to make sure that all of Billie’s love and attention wasn’t wasted. You had to make sure that this kitten made it. even if it meant checking on him every chance you got.

When you arrived to the back of treatment where he was being kept you smiled at the sight of him sleeping. He looked adorable.

“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

You turn to see one of your techs watching you from where she’s cleaning instruments at the sink. You nod, not able to stop the smile on your face from growing wider as you watch him shift slightly in his sleep.

“He is. He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

Mina smiles as she finishes up what’s she doing before she comes over to stand next to you. You turn to her as she opens the door so you can get a good look at him.

“He’s been the perfect patient. He loved his formula and mostly just lies there. He was walking around a little while ago. If you can call it walking.”

You turn back to him with a smile glad to hear that he’s doing well. He opens his eyes a little at the sound of the door and makes the cutest mewling sound. As you watch him wake up more fully and wiggle around in his blankets you wonder how the hell Billie Dean is going to give him up.

“Here, doc. Did you want to feed him?”

Mina’s holding a small bottle filled with milk and you don’t hesitate to nod before taking it from her with a quiet thanks.

“He’s going to go fast if she brings him back here to be adopted out.”

You nod but otherwise say nothing because you have no doubt about this. Hell, if Billie doesn’t want him you’ll take him. Maybe.

You’re not sure Milo would like that.

After fawning over Mickey for a few minutes, you have to put him back in his bed when your next appointment arrives. You sigh as you look at the clock, it’s only 3:40. You’ve got almost three hours left of work at least. That doesn’t seem like much, but then you have the day off tomorrow and a whole day to prepare for your date with Billie.

As you make your way to the front of the clinic you remind yourself to figure out where you’ll be going sooner rather than later.

Billie Dean was finally done with work for the day. It was already 7 and getting home might take an hour with traffic. She was exhausted and ready to go home and sleep. Well first she had to check on the kittens of course. Mickey had been picked up and dropped off with Heather about 2 hours ago.

Michelle had called to tell her that Y/N had said that everything went well during his stay. He’d even walked around a little. Billie was thrilled to hear this and it took all of her self-control to not groan at the traffic she was already in.

While she sits stuck in traffic she thinks about your plans for tomorrow. Billie hadn’t told you where you were going yet, but she planned on calling you once she got home. Both to give you a heads up about tomorrow’s date but also to thank you. She was extremely grateful that you were able to see Mickey today and that you had been flexible. She knew it was your job, but she just felt better knowing that you were the one taking care of him. She knew that you wouldn’t lie to her.

By the time she got home, she was so tired she could fall asleep. She hadn’t realized how stressful it was dealing with work and worrying about the kittens until she stepped into her house and saw Heather sitting on the couch with Mickey in her lap.

“Ms. Howard.”

Billie just shook her head as she walked further into the room and gestured for the redhead to stand up. She did so, placing Mickey on the couch carefully—he was fast asleep before turning toward the older woman. She was ready to be yelled at, but when she was just pulled into a hug she was too stunned to react immediately. Eventually, when Billie squeezed a little harder, she realized that she had just been standing dumbly and finally hugged the medium back.

“Thank you for today. I’m sorry if you were worried about how I’d react.”

When Billie pulled away and immediately looked to Mickey, Heather moved out of the way so she could get to him. She was still a little on edge and felt like she at least needed to apologize again. She didn’t get very far though before Billie shook her head from where she was now sitting on the couch with Mickey on her lap.

“Still, I’m sorry I--.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetie. It’s okay, I know it wasn’t your fault.”

Heather sighs in defeat but doesn’t argue as she gathers her things to get ready to leave. She mentions how the other kittens are doing fine and she’d just seen them nursing. Billie smiles before she thanks Heather again and watches as she leaves through the front door.

Billie releases a sigh before she picks Mickey up carefully and inspects him. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She smiled as he opened his eyes and made a small sound that made Billie want to crush him in a hug. She didn’t of course, and she just stood up and headed upstairs to change so she could carry him around with her to find some dinner.

You are still in the office when Billie Dean texts you. You got a little behind with records today and you had a few more to get to before you could head home. The buzzing of your phone pulls you from thoughts of skin allergies and you turn in your chair to look for the device. You stand up only for it to fall to the ground, having forgotten that you’d put it on your lap. You sigh before you bend over to pick it up along with some of the papers you have scattered on the floor.

You’re usually very organized, but this week has been a little crazy and staying on top of things has been difficult. It is especially difficult to concentrate when you always have a certain blonde and her kittens on your mind. You unlock your phone and see that Billie’s asking if you’re still at work.

You sigh again because unfortunately you are at least for the next 20 minutes. If you’re lucky. You have two more records to write up, and one of them was a little involved. You say something brief to this effect and continue typing while you wait for her response.

Billie is wondering if you usually stay at work this late. It was 8 o clock and she was barely hanging on to consciousness. She wouldn’t be awake if it weren’t for the glass of wine and the dinner she was forcing herself to eat. She sat with Mickey beside her on a makeshift bed as she looked through emails on her computer. It was late and she wasn’t answering any of them now. She was mostly being a little creepy and seeing what she could find out about you.

It only seemed fair since you’d Googled her.

That said, there was a lot less on you than there was on her. Billie was able to find out where you went to school, and she saw your graduation pictures, but you weren’t really on social media. Your Facebook hadn’t been updated in months and nothing she found really told her anything more than you had on Saturday.

Except one thing.

Billie didn’t read it though. Billie wanted to hear about Y/N from her instead of the internet or any other means. She closed her computer when her phone beeped and when she saw your message, she realized that almost half an hour had passed since you’d told her you were still working.

We’re leaving now.

Attached to the text was a picture of Milo jumping up from where he stood next to you. You were holding up something that must have been a treat because Milo’s mouth was wide opened and headed straight for your hand. Billie considered calling you now, but figured you shouldn’t be distracted when you drive. Instead she sent you a text.

Let me know when you’re home? I’ll tell you where we’re going tomorrow.

Billie sees that you’re typing, and once she gets an ‘ok’ in response she puts her phone down and heads upstairs. She needs to put Mickey with Bit for a while and see if he’ll nurse. She also needed a cigarette and really didn’t want to smoke around Mickey. All of the cats really, but only Mickey was ever in her pocket.

The other cats were all getting so big. They were still tiny, but they were much bigger than when she’d found them under the deck just a couple of weeks ago. All of them had opened their eyes at this point, and a lot of the time she sees them they’re trying to crawl around. She hasn’t seen that any of them leave the laundry room, but if they do, Bit herds them all back to bed so she’s none the wiser.

Once Mickey is settled with his brothers and sisters, Billie showers and is already in bed by the time you get home.

You let Milo run inside first before you head to the living room and collapse on the couch. You know that you need to eat dinner, but you’re so tired that you can’t even fathom getting up right now. You roll onto your back before digging your phone out of your pocket.

I’m home. Do I get to know where we’re going now?

Almost as if she wants to hold you in suspense, it takes Billie almost 10 minutes to respond. Little did you know she was just checking on the cats one last time before leaving them to sleep. Luckily Bit had allowed all of the kittens to stay in bed with her during the night. It was only during the day, according to Heather, that Bit tries to push Mickey out onto the floor, if not move him to a different room altogether.

She arrives back to her bedroom to see that you’ve texted her. She smiles at your question before she finally tells you where she’s made reservations for tomorrow night.

You stare at your phone before you go to Google to figure out what restaurant this is. You really need to get out more. You see that it’s literally the fanciest restaurant you’ve never been to. You look at the menu because you have to plan ahead, and your eyes widen at the prices you see next to the dishes you’re not sure you can pronounce.

You hadn’t been super stressed about this date, only moderately stressed, but this just changed that.  You had never been treated to something like this, and despite the fact that it made you feel all sorts of dizzy, you weren’t sure you deserved it. You wondered how you could put this when another text message came in as you were still staring blankly at the menu.

If you don’t want to go there, I can change the reservation.

You quickly open the text preparing to deny this, but you stop. It’s not that you don’t want to go there. Sure it’s a little intimidating and you feel like you’ll stick out like a sore thumb, but the idea of going there with Billie is a little…exhilarating. You briefly look to your closet trying to think of what you’d wear before you make your decision.

You’ve been telling yourself to go outside of your comfort zone since you’d moved here. Honestly you hated the idea of doing so, but having someone that you trust with you…You knew Billie would make sure you were comfortable. Clearly, since she was already checking in with you. Finally you sighed with a small smile. You were touched that she was being so thoughtful already and decided to take this chance. How bad could it be if Billie was with you?

Thursday night finally arrives and after spending a whole day lounging around and anticipating tonight’s date it’s finally time. Your first date with Billie. Since you plan things down to the minute, you arrived to the restaurant a little early. You were grateful since traffic had been, well L.A traffic. You honestly hadn’t lived in a big city before and you getting used to there being so much traffic all the time. You pulled into the parking lot only to be directed to the valet. Right. That happened here.

You get out of the car and sigh as the night air hits you. This is going to be fine. It will be fun damn it. It will be. You continue to tell yourself this as you make your way inside. You can’t help but look around at the predictably decorated interior. You don’t pay it much mind as you wait until the hostess is free and looks to you with a smile.

“Hi, how are you? Do you have a reservation?”

You smile as you nod and mention that you are supposed to be meeting Billie Dean Howard. She shoots you a curious look, but once you give your name she nods and leads you further into the restaurant.

You walk past a lot of people and you swear you see a celebrity or two, but you’re not here for them. You’re looking around in search of a familiar blonde when you spot her from over the hostess’s shoulder. You smile at the sight of Billie Dean sitting at a booth waiting for you.

She’s wearing another silk blouse, but this time she’s also wearing a string of pearls. You nearly run into the hostess you’re too busy staring at the medium’s hair that is styled a little differently, but luckily you stop just in time.

You wait until she turns to leave before you move to sit across from Billie. You smile as you get situated before looking to Billie again.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

Billie taps her fingernails on the table, smiling as she watches you look to them before shaking her head.

“Not at all. I was trying to get here before you after all.”

You don’t have time to think about why this could be before Billie tells you. She’s smirking at your confused look but it soon turns flustered when she explains.

“I wanted to be able to watch you walk in.”

You couldn’t help but blush slightly at this and you shoot her a curious, teasing look.

“Well, was it worth it?”

Billie’s eyes light up, and you swear she looks impressed as she nods and shoots you a dazzling smile.

“More than. You look stunning, Y/N.”

You smile before taking a second chance to look at Billie and you blush harder when you see that her smile has turned to a smirk again.

“You too, Billie. You always look beautiful though.”

The medium scoffs and mutters something about that being nonsense. You don’t get a chance to argue with her before your waitress shows up. The tall blonde smiles at the two of you before handing each of you a menu.

“Good evening. My name’s Taylor and I’ll be your server for tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

You had completely neglected to look at the drink menu, so you let Billie go first while you frantically searched through the list of drinks. You’d already decided that you were going to get something with alcohol. You were still a little tense and you knew that drinking tended to help you with this. As long as you didn’t overdo it.

So you ordered your favorite drink that wouldn’t get you more than a little tipsy before looking back across the table at Billie. You tried not to stare, but you just couldn’t believe what you saw. Part of you believed that if you closed your eyes, you’d find yourself back at your apartment realizing that this was all a dream. You weren’t sure how you got so lucky to attract the attention of someone like Billie Dean.

You were just grateful for Bit and her kittens bringing Billie to the clinic and into your life.

You’re still admiring the woman across from you when Taylor walks away. She looked back to you feeling herself want to smile again at your adoring look. She was accustomed to attracting attention. It came with the territory of being on television. She was used to people staring at her, fawning over her, and sometimes leering at her.

This wasn’t that though. You were looking at her with something that resembled awe, and that made her feel appreciated in a way she hadn’t for a long time. You weren’t with her tonight because of her money or her fame. You were after something else that Billie was quickly realizing, she was all too willing to give.

“You’re staring, sweetheart.”

You snap out of your trance and shoot Billie a shamefaced look. You mutter an apology that you don’t really mean. Well you didn’t mean to stare, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad for appreciating Billie Dean. You wanted to make sure that you never stopped doing that.

“Sorry, I—I don’t have a good excuse. I’m just—I really need to thank Bit for having her kittens under your house.”

Billie laughs at this as Taylor comes back to set your drinks down. You both need a little more time to look over the menu, so the blonde leaves as you start to look for the dish you’d seen earlier today.

When you watch Billie pick up her glass of wine but not take a sip you look up from your menu with a frown. She’s smiling at you as she looks between you and your glass, and you quickly take the hint. You grab your glass too and hold it up with a grin.

“To our second date.”

Your smile disappears as your brows furrow in confusion. Billie has to stop herself from mentioning how cute it looks.

“Second?”

Billie can’t stop herself from laughing; however, as she nods in confirmation. She could practically see your internal struggle and had to ask.

“Yes, did you not count Saturday?”

You flushed at the thought of Saturday being a date, meaning that this dinner was not your first date. You shook your head before shrugging at the realization that you were just dumb. You’d been so damned stressed with first date jitters only for this to be the second date.

You were a mess sometimes.

“I just—wasn’t sure, I guess. Am now though.”

Billie smiled at you again before she clinked your glasses together and took a sip of her wine. She didn’t break eye contact with you and you took a long sip of your drink to hide how her watching you made you feel all hot and bothered.

“Good. It’s settled then.”

You just nod dumbly before returning your attention to the menu in an attempt to calm your racing heart. You found the dish that you’d been eying earlier before turning to Billie. You plan to ask her if she’s been here before when she beats you to it.

“You can, by the way.”

Now you’re really confused. You must have missed something. What had you just been talking about?

“What?”

The only response you had to what Billie Dean just said only made her smile wider. She shrugged as she opened her own menu, but didn’t really look at it. She was still watching you as she clarified her meaning.

“You can thank Bit, if you’d like. After this.”

Billie’s biting her lip to stop from laughing too loudly at how quickly your face turns red. She just can’t resist watching you flush so prettily at even the faintest suggestion. You just take a deep breath before muttering something that might be ‘dear god’ as you nod absentmindedly.

“Yeah, sure. Maybe—I mean—I haven’t seen the other kittens in forever.”

Billie Dean smiles victoriously before she decides to be merciful. She gives you a break as she changes the subject.

“Have you always wanted to be a vet?”

The abrupt change of subject surprises you despite how relieved you are. You’re not sure why you always act like such a prude around Billie. You’re not. It’s just the idea of that, doing any of that with the medium makes your head spin. If you think too much into it you might faint, so you are eager to answer Billie’s question and retreat from dangerous territory.

“No, definitely not. It wasn’t until the second year of college that I really committed to it.”  

Billie asks what influenced your decision, so you tried to explain it in the most concise way possible. You didn’t want to drone on or tell your entire life story. It’s just there wasn’t a one sentence answer to this. You’d gone from wanting to be a paleontologist to a marine biologist to a dentist (for the money), to a physical therapist before finally deciding on being a vet.

“When I was in high school, I went with my mom every weekend to visit my grandfather. I helped take care of him and everything and thought that’s what I wanted to do. It didn’t last too long though.”

You see from the way that Billie’s looking at you, that she has questions. You aren’t sure what she’s going to ask, but your waitress is back to take your orders before she gets the chance to. Billie fidgets slightly tapping her nails against the table while you order and it isn’t until you’re alone again that you consider what the cause might be.

Billie’s in the process of putting her hand back in her lap to stop herself from fidgeting when you speak up. You’re not sure you’re right, but you want to at least say this so Billie knows where you stand.

“Are you okay?”

Billie frowns in confusion not realizing that you’d caught onto her nervous tick until she sees how you’re studying her. Still she nods and tries to play it off, but you don’t let her dismiss you that easily.

“I’m fine, Y/N.”

You decide to take the risk.

“Are you sure because you look like you could use a cigarette, or at least a stronger drink. I wouldn’t mind either.”

Billie smiles wryly at this, laughing under her breath as she shakes her head. You just keep surprising her.

“Maybe, but I can only have one of those in here.”

That didn’t occur to you immediately, but a quick look around tells you that she’s probably right. You nod more to yourself than her before you take another sip of your drink.

“True.”

You sit in silence for a while before you realize that you hadn’t returned Billie’s question. You are curious to know the answer because honestly, you’re not sure what you could see Billie doing, other than her current job of course. There were so many possibilities.

“What about you? What did pre-medium Billie Dean want to do?”

Billie frowns as she considers this and you almost become worried before the medium merely shrugs her shoulders in response.

“I wanted to play tennis, but then my calling…called.”

You remember what you’d read about Billie becoming a medium at the age of 25. Then you think about 25-year-old Billie playing tennis. You’d never been a fan of the sport because you were terrible at it, but you definitely wouldn’t say no to watching Billie play.

“You played tennis?”

You’re really just asking for elaboration, but when Billie just smiles, you prompted her.

“Were you any good?”

Whether she realizes it or not, Billie Dean sits up a little straighter practically preening before she shoots you a cocky smile.

“I was unbeatable for a while.”

There are so many ways you could respond to this, but you settle on the teasing response that comes to mind first. You secretly just want to know if Billie still plays and if she’s as competitive as you think.

“You mean you’re not anymore?”

Billie sighs at the thought because she hasn’t played competitively in years. She’s been a little busy getting her career off the ground. It had been difficult for many reasons. First of all no one believed that she had this gift of speaking to the dead. She was quickly written off as nuts and proving them wrong took a lot more work than it would have if she’d been a man.

Luckily most of those struggles were behind her, and the worst she had to deal with was people asking her too personal questions because for some reason they felt like they had a right to know.

“It’s been years since I’ve played.”

You laugh before nodding in understanding. You’re going to have to find out more about Billie playing tennis later. For now, you’re going to behave and just let your imagination run wild.

“Did you play any sports?”

You try not to laugh at the fact that yes, you did, and it was not only the most stereotypically lesbian sport, but you also weren’t good at it. You definitely weren’t unbeatable like Billie. You shrug your shoulders before trying not to make 6 years of softball seem like a big deal. It wasn’t really. The team needed people and then you realized you liked it.

You ironically didn’t realize you were gay until you started crushing on someone on your team, but there was no way you were telling Billie that.

“I wasn’t that good. I just ran fast and occasionally caught things.”

Billie asked what position you’d played and you mentioned that you’d been catcher for a couple of years before you were moved to outfield. It had been a good and bad move. Good because being catcher stressed you out, but bad because your ADHD made it easier to zone out while you were standing in the outfield.

“It was mostly just running. A lot of running.”

Billie smiled at this as she considered what you’d told her recently about your dislike of running, and exercise in general.

“Did you lose your taste for it back then?”

You nod because it’s true. You definitely dislike running, but sometimes it’s the only thing that you can do to destress. Also Milo would never let you stop completely. He liked it too much. You say this and this reminds Billie of something she’s been meaning to ask. You mention your dog a lot and she feels bad that she’s never asked more about him.

“I never asked. Have you had him since he was a puppy?”

Without realizing it, you finish up your drink and sigh at the seemingly simple question. You hadn’t ever mentioned having Milo as a puppy because then you’d have to explain how you got him. Or rather from whom. However, it seemed like you weren’t going to be able to avoid talking about this anymore, so you just decided to be as honest as possible. Just without revealing too much of your baggage.

“Yeah, I actually got him from my ex. Her parents bred German Shepherds, and they said they couldn’t sell Milo because he was too small and sick.”

Billie frowned at the idea of this for a couple of reasons. She decided to focus on Milo for now because she was hopeful she would hear more about your ex later if you ever opened up to her about your past. For now, she wondered how anyone could want to abandon a puppy.

“That’s horrible.”

You just nodded because you remember how horribly your ex had put it when she’d told you. She’d been so nonchalant as if this sort of thing happened all of the time and that it was okay. That wasn’t quite the end of your relationship, but it was very close to it. Things just went downhill from that point.

“Yeah, it was. He had gotten sick and as a result became blind in one eye. They were just going to—well I’m not sure exactly what they would have done with him, but I jumped on the chance to adopt him.”

Billie smiles as you say this because she can tell just by how you talk about him that he’s your whole world. He’s your baby. Like how Mickey’s become hers.

“How long ago was this?”

You spent way too long talking about your dog and how the past two years had been for you. Your meal came while you were telling Billie the story of how Milo had gotten his head stuck in a wall and you two could barely thank Taylor you were so close to crying you were laughing so hard.

“I had left him for maybe an hour to run an errand and I come back to hear him screaming bloody murder.”

It had been terrifying to open the door and immediately hear him screaming in distress. You had honestly thought that he had hurt himself somehow despite how careful you’d been with cleaning your room.

“I thought he was dying I was so freaked out, then I see that he’s literally chewed through the wall into the hallway, but he got stuck in the second layer of drywall.”

Billie was laughing so hard she could barely choke out the only three words that came to mind. “Oh my god.”

You nod before rolling your eyes at the thought of how much damage the puppy had caused. He’d only been 5 months old at the time.

“I know. He broke a tooth and had to get stitches from thrashing. It was a mess.”

Billie’s wiping the tears from her eyes as she shakes her head in disbelief. He sounds like a handful, but she can’t wait to meet him. She says this and you smile before agreeing quickly. You know that Milo will love Billie. He honestly loves most people, but you’ve learned that he is a good judge of character.

You both took a moment to taste your food. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, and you had to force yourself not to stuff your face. You reach for your drink, only to realize it’s empty before you just grab your water. You’re not sure you want another one yet.

“So you never did tell me what it takes.”

Your attention returns to Billie who is shooting you a questioning look. You don’t realize what she’s talking about, but your frown of confusion prompts Billie to continue.

“You said that your belief in the supernatural depends on certain things. Do you care to elaborate on that?”

Your eyes light up in realization before you smile in response. Since you’d promised Billie that you’d explain this you’d been trying to figure out how to say it in a way that didn’t sound too generic. Sure you believed in the supernatural, but did you believe that contact with spirits was as common as it is portrayed in the media? Not at all.

You take another second to get your thoughts together before you tell Billie what you think. She just listens carefully nodding every now and then as you explain your views based on your limited understanding.

“I definitely believe, but—I don’t know. There are so many different representations of the supernatural that some of it seems farfetched. I guess, I just mean that if you told me that ghosts are around us all of the time, I’d need some proof before I believe you.”

Billie’s expression stayed neutral, but she mentally cursed herself for not wording this question better. She hadn’t anticipated you saying that because now what could she say in response? She didn’t want to tell you what she’d picked up on the first time she’d met you. That would certainly freak you out, and you didn’t want to get too personal too early into…whatever you two were heading towards.

Billie didn’t dwell on this too much fully realizing that she needed to respond to what you said. She wasn’t sure if you sensed her hesitation, but she just decided to default to her flirty nature.

“I’ll have to show you how it’s done sometime then.”

The innuendo is not wasted on you because Billie sees you flush slightly before nodding in agreement. You muttered something under your breath that resembled ‘sounds good’ before taking another bite of food. You may need that second drink after all.

About an hour later, you two had finished up dinner and dessert. Billie had kept her promise and paid before you could even open your mouth to argue. She hadn’t played fair because you’d been distracted and hadn’t noticed Taylor come up to the table with the check. Still, you didn’t get a chance to pout before Billie was shooting you a questioning look. It wasn’t teasing and you were a little surprised by this given what she asked. However, you had already made up your mind just moments after she’d asked you the first time.

“So, do you want to go see the kittens?”

Of course you did. You wanted to make sure that Mickey was okay, and check up on the other kittens as well. You wanted to check on Billie’s cats. That was the only reason why you wanted to go to her house. You had no ulterior motive whatsoever.

“Let’s do it.”

Part 5