#look even i sometimes want soft things - combines cat special interest with OTP win-win for me

[blorbologist]

Cat’s Cradle

Tiny Perc’ahlia AU I started because I need some good vibes rn: 

TLDR Percy finds a litter of abandoned kittens. Vex can’t take them on with her work schedule, shelters are too full to accept the workload of newborn beans, but Percy hasn’t a clue what to do.

So, naturally, he decides to help Vex foster his kittens. By practically moving in, given overnight feedings and her hours on the job (and Vax and Kiki are on a vacation to write them out of this).

What could possibly go wrong?

--

“Tsk tsk tsk.” Percival rattles the cup of kibble, the rolling churn loud in the morning chill.

Ten minutes in, he has to admit defeat. She’s been late before. 

With a sigh he places the bowl down in its usual spot and fishes around for his keys. With his other hand he quickly sends a text to Vex before his fingers freeze. 

Sorry, no photos for you. Curio was a no-show.

The lock snaps - so very satisfying - and warm air buffets him as he makes his way into his workshop. Not strictly his - technically he rents his room, use of the main forge and such from Victor. But he’s one of two with a key and that’s enough to be his, thank you very much.

Out of habit, he flicks on the lights before taking off his boots. 

Percy only gets one stomp to free them of snow before there’s a clatter. A racket, even, as a blur of fur skids out from under his main worktable, sending a jacket left there flying. An array of screwdrivers and his box of drill bits scream as they hit the ground - he barely recognizes the dark tail and paws before it’s gone.

“Curio?” Percy whispers into the sudden quiet. It must have been her - he’s never seen a stray with her colors before, let alone here, and she’s such a flighty thing, despite his best efforts at Keyleth’s behest. It was only a few days ago he got close enough to hear her purr as she ate.

He swears he hadn’t left that window open, given they had been calling for a spring cold snap. The screen lies half-torn on the floor, on closer inspection. With a scowl Percy pads over and slides the glass closed, picks up the mesh. Not sure it can be salvaged. Great.

It’s very quiet, but the buzzing fluorescent lights overhead, so he can indulge in a heartfelt “Fuck” and listen to it echo.

It does.

It also comes back a little shrill. And chorused. 

Percy’s frown deepens. Stalking the noise is easy enough, as is lifting that fallen jacket.

Oh dear. 

Help, he texts Vex, and attaches a photo.

--

“Are you keeping them warm?” are the first words out of Vex’s mouth when he lets her in. 

Awkwardly, with one arm, he closes the door. She would usually allow time for a smile - Vex today is on a warpath, striding right down the hall. 

It’s a rare day to see her without her massive brown mutt at her side, but the circumstances certainly exclude Trinket from the proceedings.

“Of course,” he says, doing his best to follow her promptly. A touch difficult, given - “I did not have anything on hand, and the forge takes a while to warm, so -”

“Percy, kittens rely on their mother’s body heat to survive. If you’re right and they’re that new-”

“I know - they’re safe.”

Vex spins away once in Victor’s workshop. She procures a bean bag from her purse that’s quickly stuffed in the abused lunch microwave. She has to smack it to get it whirring to life. “Darling, why don’t you give me a hand? Where are the babies?”

“No, and here.”

“No?”

Vex is looking at him very curiously. So Percy takes it as a command: sits, peels off his sweater, ignores Vex’s quirked brow loaded with innuendo, and untucks the overlarge undershirt.

“I figured,” he says, a touch breathless because oh that tickles, “body heat was better than nothing.”

Her eyes are wide and soft and staring down at a very peculiar angle at the writhing patches clutched tight to Percy’s skin. They’re quieter, now, and he’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Oh - they’re so small,” Vex says, downy soft. Percy’s stomach flutters. He blames it on the prick of tiny claws. “Poor things.”

Vex inhales and is immediately back in action, slipping under the tables to find a suitable outlet for something else she tossed on a chair. “Just stay there, darling? I’ll get something a little more convenient set up for them.”

It isn’t long at all before Vex has commandeered the slipper basked, tucked in the electric heating pad and the microwaved one and tucked the whole nest with towels - clean ones, from her place. With a waddle, Percy joins her, kneels, and gingerly holds his shirt open as Vex scoops up each kitten in turn.

“One.” She counts as she goes, setting the squirming kitten down gently. They mewl in protest. 

“Two.” She’s smiling, now, and with the adrenaline beginning to fade Percy feels he can too. 

“Three - oh, sweetie, you’re still damp.” Her face becomes something heartbreaking at the realization.

“Four - and five.” He hands her the last one, hand trembling almost as much as it is. 

Five kittens. All squirming, to some degree or another - none still, at least. Two at least are whimpering, doing their best to knead at the nearest soft thing. Another is pushed over by its siblings and wails. Percy slowly tips it back upright.

“They’re disgusting,” Vex whispers with affection. “I was going to - I expected these to be a week or two old, because no one really gets what newborn animals are like. But - these really are newborn. Mom did not even finish cleaning them.”

He huffs. Could be amused, could be humorless. He’s just tired and it’s not even ten am. Vex echoes him, and it’s murmuring quiet as the kittens get settled.

“Alright,” Percy sighs. Five kittens. He hadn’t exactly taken time to count them, in the rush to scoop them up once he had Vex on the phone relaying instructions.

(Five is a bad number. For Percival, specifically.)

“Alright,” he repeats. “What’s next?”

Vex steels herself. “We have to find their mother.” 

[ask-fraustria]

Tell me about our children /dangles my leg in the air seductively

MORE HEADCANON, this time about my OTP which is Pru/Aus but specifically in this instance Prussia/nyo!Austria! also NSFW.

romantic;

she seems to like stealing his athleisure loungewear stuff so much that he buys her her own. tanks, tshirts and lounge pants with cute stuff like ‘princess’ and cupcakes on it. that he then borrows back.

she has a habit of stopping by jewellers and bridal shops and bakeries and…etc, looking at the wedding gear, when they’re out and about, and it makes him sweat. is she doing it deliberately?

she bleeds his wallet dry for presents. she doesn’t think of it as shallow or golddigging at all, it’s what she’s used to and she considers it a sign of love and affection…he agrees, he loves to show off with flashy gifts and he’s terrible with money because of it.

because he’s an affectionate person who craves touch, she too is a lot more affectionate with him. she invites herself to sit in his lap when she feels like it- usually by ordering him to sit properly to accommodate her.

her favourite thing about him, physically, is either his very pretty eyelashes or his muscular back. she touches his eyelashes, eyebrows and hair a lot when they cuddle, he has unnaturally soft hair.

she suspects his favourite thing about her is her butt…but it’s probably her eyes or her lips. privately, though, she absolutely loves the attention and appreciation he gives her figure.

the combination of her very prim and proper clothing and her elaborate, old-fashioned lingerie isn’t deliberately meant to inflame anyone’s passions, but it does things to Prussia. he has rather gentle tastes in sexy outfits and likes old-school pinups. throughout history he was often floored by her very richly-attired beauty, but nowadays he likes that subtle retro look.

even though she’s a much better cook and takes care of dinner most of the time (if they have it at her house), she likes to prod him for breakfast in bed just because. (then, complain about it.)

she can’t sext…he keeps trying, but…she doesn’t understand the point…she takes him very literally and turns it into a complete trainwreck. on the other hand, old-fashioned phone sex goes a bit better because she has such a lovely voice.

she…has a bit more…drive than him. she can wear him out. but then she is making him do most of the work. and her body is more…you know. it can go longer. she likes to try and recapture the energy they had when they were younger…

they like roleplay…they’re very silly. they play Housewife and Gardener or Secretary and Handyman and other stupid things. all over the house. and sometimes away from it.

i think she prefers to experiment sexually with him over anyone else. she’s more willing, more often, to be submissive or try something out. on some level, she trusts him more in bed than other partners. ironic.

being separated on a daily basis during the cold war era (they did have some visitation probably) made her really fall in love with him, i think. at that point most of their former glory and horribleness was behind them, and being left alone with her thoughts made her realise how she’d grown used to him being with her and how she wanted him back.

since they’ve only been together like this since the 90s- with everything prior to that being a bumpy ride to say the least- they feel new and interesting to each other even now.

they’ve shaped each other, influenced and challenged and defined each other, for better and worse, but with a pretty good end result. they know each other too deeply for there to be any…pettiness? about their relationship now. they bicker all the time, but when your last bad breakup involved a war, a deeply personal one at that, it’s unlikely anything less than that is going to shake anything up. since he’s retired and she’s settled down, they’re quite relaxed.

general;

they like to play chess but rarely, because they’re not good sports about it. they’re fairly evenly matched but Austria tends to win a little more…Prussia has a bad habit of flipping the board when he’s in a tight spot and she taunts him… when they were young, it ended in bears ALL THE TIME, they’ve only gotten somewhat better in recent times.

for that matter, if he ever plays a game with her, he tends to deliberately pick something he thinks he’s better at just to be a jackass and/or impress her, which backfires now and then.

if she needs something, she’ll call or text him rather than Germany because she’s learned that while Germany is a busy person, Prussia is a sad fool who never puts his phone down. he’s not always that HELPFUL, but it’s like he can’t physically ignore a text, so she spams him with messages…and they’re either incredibly verbose and proper, or mangled by autocorrect.

he takes a new profile photo of her for his phone every time he sees her, he likes to test the limits of just how photogenic she can be.

he isn’t a big fan of her beloved cat, but i can’t decide whether it hates him or weirdly loves him and rubs up on him all the time and makes him uncomfortable.

they don’t really need to, but they like to correspond via snail mail. even if it’s a petty argument, there’s something satisfying about sending a letter.

they switch off responsibility. when he’s doing something stupid, she’s the first to point it out, but if she’s behaving erratically, he suddenly becomes an adult. neither of them are really responsible at all.

they worry about each other a lot. they each have their own unique and special ways of endangering themselves on a daily basis. more seriously, though, they’ve both been through things that have actually threatened their continued existence, and it’s in those moments that they show more concern than anyone.