#stef: *WIDE EYED CAT BLINKS*

[jrueships]

josh allen extreme makeover

omg wait cus what if the bills give josh an emergency extreme makeover to try and help him win stef back , and they accidentally just end up making him white boy Rick basically. ..Remember those rlly expensive shades he had on in a recent pic bcs a teammate tried styling him to their personal style instead of touching up Josh's or highlighting Josh's in ways that would help josh more than himself like what stef always did with the hats.. ? like . they do that. In preparation for the upcoming Houston vs buffalo game... and bcs cj stroud is younger, they try to crash course josh on all the latest cool slang and he becomes Jack Harlow or some shit.

Everybody's expecting stef to be head over heels for the new improved cool guy josh allen who's traded his softness for sharpness..

and then they hear a high wail and stef is storming into the bills lockerroom pointing and demanding to see who's done this to his beautiful boy. Josh is shuffling behind him the whole time, 50000 dollar shades tucked into his shirt pocket, letting stef demand his no pickles for him. Stef is abhorred, appalled. How DARE they- how dare ANYONE think josh is imperfect EXCEPT FOR STEF. because they don't THINK of it FONDLY and also a tad aggravated and a smidgen fearful. They don't view his imperfections with love, they view it with callous change. They view his man wrong. And even though Josh isn't stef's man anymore, no one does stef's man wrong. Past present or future, you Don't mess with stef's man .

No more extreme makeover .

[canyouhearthelight]

Not the Chosen One, Ch. 1: Unexpected Arrival

Stefanie 'Stef' Warren is completely prepared for strays to show up at her home: wild animals, newly turned vampires, werewolves in their first full moon, she's seen them all.

So when a dark haired teen shows up to dig in her trash, she hardly thinks anything of it.

Welcome to a world where supernatural beings are a fact of life, cats aren't always cats, and running a rescue doesn't just mean wildlife.

Thanks to @baelpenrose and @writing-with-olive for your beta reading and sensitivity reading work on this!

With a yawn, I leaned against the frame of my back door and watched the grimy, thin figure who was digging through one of my garbage bags.  I thought they would notice me at some point, but when they started opening a pack of greenish bacon, I finally intervened.

“That’s going to make you sick,” I called out gently.

They startled, whirling around to stare at me with wide eyes.  At least they dropped the bacon.

“That’s why it’s in the trash instead of the freezer.  It’s rotten,” I added.

They glanced down at the package, and I could tell they were still considering it.

With a sigh, I held the door to my kitchen open wider. “Want a sandwich?  I think I even have a soda stashed somewhere.”  This was far from the first time a stray had shown up, not even the first of the human variety.  My offer clearly tempted them, but they shook their head even as their stomach let out a very loud argument.  I just nodded. “Ah. Stranger’s house, I get it.  Grilled cheese okay?”

The much-too-thin, wide-eyed kid mumbled something.  I was able to make out ‘-ick’ at the end.

Given the bacon situation, there wasn’t a chance they were a picky eater, so I was betting on ‘sick’. “You’re lactose intolerant or have a dairy allergy?”

They nodded hesitantly.

I shoved down the groan that was trying to force its way out before stepping down onto the patio and clearing out a chair. “I need to go grocery shopping, so this may take a couple of minutes.  You can sit here - move it wherever you want, it’s just more comfortable than kneeling in a gravel driveway.”  Before they could respond, I ducked back into my kitchen, leaving the door wide open so they could see what I was doing if they wanted to check.

Biting my bottom lip, I started digging through my cabinets.  Geez, I never realized how much dairy I - Bingo!  Chicken noodle soup of a brand I don’t even like.  No clue how three cans got in my cupboard, but gift horses, mouths, all that.  I poked my head out of the door and wiggled a can of soup.  “This okay?”

Judging by the way the kid lunged for it, I assumed so.  “You don’t want me to warm it up? This stuff’s kind of gross cold.”

Poor kid pulled up short and sniffled, rubbing their eye with a sleeve that was somehow dirtier than they were.

With years of practiced patience, I ignored it.  Instead, I went back in the kitchen for a couple minutes to dump it in a bowl and nuke it.  On my way back out, I had a second thought and grabbed what was left of my loaf of bread as well.  Less than five minutes later, I was back outside and sitting on a step in silence while they ate, only getting up to heat up more food.

Once all the cans and all the bread were gone, they cradled the bowl to their stomach like it would save them from drowning. “I’m a boy,” the kid finally said, softly, like he was apologizing.

“Oooookay,” I responded in confusion.

“My parents keep saying I’m a girl.”

“Oh.” That made much more sense.  “Guessing that’s why you were going full raccoon with my trash.”

“They kicked me out,” he whispered.

“They WHAT!?” I squawked. “You’re, what, fifteen?”

“Sixteen,” he corrected indignantly.

I rubbed my face, nodding at the correction. “Sixteen.  Your parents are peaches, huh?  Geez, kicking you out at sixteen….  Did you pick a name yet?”

He blinked at me, relaxing his grip on my bowl ever so slightly. “Name?”

“I mean, yeah.” Gesturing at him, I nodded again. “Obviously they gave you a girl’s name if they thought you were a girl, but you’re a boy, so you get to pick a boy’s name, right?  Or at least a not-girl’s name?”

“You…. don’t care that I’m a boy?”

“Only if you normally refuse to bathe when you have access to a shower.”

That earned the tiniest smile I’d ever seen, but it was better than fear, so I was taking it as a win. “Trey.  I like the name Trey.”

“It is a pretty cool name,” I admitted. “Where’ve you been sleeping?”

“Around.  Anywhere I could be hidden so weirdos leave me alone.”

“Not the worst tactic,” I agreed before standing and dusting off my sleep pants. “Well, you can sleep here, I don’t mind.  Couch, hammock, either one is good.”

Trey yelped at that. “You don’t even know me!”

“You don’t mean any harm, I know that.”

“No you don’t.”

“That is where you are wrong, kid.” I pointed lazily at the fence around my property.  “Whole property is warded against people with ill intent.  If you meant harm, you wouldn’t have been able to see the place, much less go dumpster diving.”

He shrunk against the chair in horror. “You’re a witch?”

I raised one eyebrow and gave him the flattest stare I could. “Lots of people are witches, Trey, and it’s rude to react like that.  And yes, I am, but just a plant witch, nothing special.  You probably have family that are and don’t know it, they just think they have a ‘green thumb’.”

“My mom…” He snapped his mouth shut audibly, eyes going wide again before he burst into laughter. “My mom hates witches!  And she is one?? This is the best thing ever!”

“Suuuuper common,” I told him, laughing along.  “But no, I didn’t do the wards, my sister did.  She’s a shield maiden, pretty strong one, too.  Makes a ton of cash from it.” My sigh was more than a little wistful. “Wards, shields, banishings, you name it. If you crash here, you’ll probably meet her in the morning when she stops by to pick up her tea.”

Trey’s laughs trailed off when what I said sank in. “You were serious? I really can sleep here tonight?”

“Tonight, tomorrow, however long you need to.  And like I said, you don’t even have to sleep in the house if you don’t feel safe or comfortable doing that.  There’s a hammock back there, and I can put a cot in the greenhouse in case it rains.”  I would have to relocate some of the plants, granted - a couple were poisonous, so it just wasn’t really safe to have someone sleeping in there with them.

“Can I have a shower?” he asked quietly, back to being the scared kid who could barely tell me he couldn’t eat dairy.

The absolute fury I felt at his parents in that moment was only held back by the fact that I clenched my jaw hard enough to get a toothache. I managed to nod and jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “Through the kitchen, take a left, first door on your left.  Towels are over the toilet, and I think there’s some not-flowery soap under the sink, but I may be wrong on that one.”

He hesitated. “You’re just going to let me walk in your house?”

“Wards,” I reminded. “The property line, the exterior of the house, and the interior of my bedroom.  Three layers.”

He mumbled something about paranoia before practically making a run for the bathroom.  I heard the bowl clatter into the sink, at least.  Gonna have to show him how to load that into the dishwasher, I groaned to myself before pulling out my cell phone to tap out a message.

“Hey.  Probably going to need another ward, and you might need to take Julian and Pattycakes.”

The recipient took a couple tries to word their reply before it finally came through. “Another injured raptor?” “I wish.  You’ll meet him in the morning.” I muted my phone and closed it before she could respond again, knowing she would start grilling me but would get the message when I didn’t read any of them.