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#i just wanna affectionately smack people with cat paws
astranite · 1 month
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Why must i do things like “edit essay” and “cite sources”? Cannot i just boop friends???
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frisky-firestarter · 4 years
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if you're taking drabble suggestions, willowfrid with Willow getting happily reminded who's in charge?
Ngl I was supposed to write this yesterday and then I totally forgot.
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“Stupid Wilson, stupid napsack, stupid ‘oh if it works you’ll only be out for a minute tops’—Well, Mr. Science Man! Be your own Guinean pig next time! Make yourself late to go see your girlfriend.” It’s not like cancelling plans was so easy when you couldn’t send a telegram or carrier pigeon or whatever people who were social enough to have friends at home did to take a rain check.
So she was in the dark with her lighter, trudging her way to Wigfrid’s and trying to rub the remaining sleep from her eyes.
“Shoot...Was it east from...No.” Willow wrangled with her nap while she tried to keep her lighter on. “This isn’t nearly so fun a trip in the dark. I’m going to trip on a rock and die before I ever see my girlfriend, and Wilson is going to be responsible for resurrecting me. I’m gonna—“
She was silenced by the strong hands, not immediately recognizable as Wigfrid’s. Willow was shocked quiet for a solid second.
“I have caught thee, sweet, little rabbit.”
She was scooped up in her arms bridal-style with a squeak. “Don’t call me a rabbit. Rabbits are just tasty vermin.”
“Well, you’re one of those things~”
“Wigfrid! No, I wanna be...a catcoon. I’m a sweet, little catcoon.”
“Oh, but dear thing, I’m supposed to be the hunter here.” She carried her into the sturdy, stone walls of her camp. It’s hadn’t been far, thank goodness, a good twenty feet away. So Willow didn’t have to scold her for running off into the dark just to catch her by surprise. The campfire roared in the center, and Willow’s eyes stuck to it before she was hauled off to her tent.
“No buts! I wanna be a kitty.”
“Fine, the I shall be the hellish spawn of Fenrir! A hound that has tracked thee down for my own nefarious purposes. How lucky you are that I let you be a cat when you’ve done me the horrid injustice of being late.” Wigfrid laid her out over the plentiful furs and pelts she had collected during her time on the Constant.
“Sorry, I got held up helping Wilson out, and you know he can get—“
“Hush, a mere apology will not offer the reparations I seek this dark night.” Willow gasped as her hands slid up her blouse to unhook the corset. “I think you need to be reminded that you’re mine. Not Wilson’s.” Hooks undone, Wigfrid reached where the fabric parted to drag her nails over her spine.
“Yes ma’am,” she giggled. If Willow had the wherewithal to walk tomorrow, she knew she’d have to wear something around her neck. She did not mind.
“Little cat, caught under my paw, I will make you regret the poor decisions that have led you to my terrible jaws.”
“Oh cruel fate!” Willow half squealed. Wigfrid pulled her hair hard to the side to gain more access to her neck and shoulder. Her blouse was gone before she even knew it, leaving her helpless against the ensuing assault of kissing and biting along her bare skin. “To be stuck here, devoured by some mean, old hound.”
“Old!” Wigfrid returned to her flesh to leave a mark that would certainly stick with her for days. “What am I, two...three years older than you?”
“Yeah. Old.”
“Oh, a sweet kitty with an apparent deathwish.” Wigfrid scooted back between her legs, wiggled her leggings down, tilted her body to the side. Then she smacked her haunch. Willow’s back arched away with a sharp gasp. “You’ll take it back, won’t you?” Smack. “I promise…” Smack. “You’ll see no relief until I get an apology.”
Each blow was just hard enough to leave a fat, red handprint. Willow took it as long as she was physically able, until the sting burned her read too much to stand. “A-alright! I’m sorry! I take it back!”
“Aw, my darling kitten is ‘sorry’. Perhaps I can ease up on your torment, if only slightly.” Wigfrid affectionately rubbed circles around the sore spot, then she hauled her legs up to drape over her shoulders. “I won’t torture thee with the wait anymore. No, I’ll cut to the chase and devour you whole right now!”
That arousing pain had left her red in the face and panting. “Whatever will I do! Oh no! Oh...yes…”
She had pushed aside the crotch of her briefs to thumb over Willow’s soaking folds. “By Freya, you are far too easy to work up. Not that I mind.”
“Hush! It’s not my fault you’re so good with me. Hurry up...I’m gonna lose it at this rate.”
“Well, now I’m going to take all night just to spite you.”
“Wiggy! I thought you wanted to devour me now!”
“Such a brat!” She gently pulled back the hood over her clit, leaving the sensitive, little button exposed to the open air. “You are right, though. I may be a hungry beast, but I could never leave you waiting…”
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ivadeshin · 5 years
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Pasadena Iced Coffee (2/?)
(Sequel to Five Soda Maximum. Catch up on previous chapters on Ao3.)
Don’t freak out on a freaking Amtrak train, Molly chides himself.
He starts a new text to Caleb.
Me: Apparently ahead of schedule? 10min
Caleb often doesn’t check his phone for long periods, but sooner than expected, his phone beeps back:
Caleb Widogast (orange heart emoji): I am at the station under the big  yoga elf
The what?
Me: The what?
It’s a few moments before an image text comes in - a slightly blurry phone picture, taken from below, of an enormous poster for a gym. In the foreground is a slim elf woman in immaculate makeup, sitting peacefully on a mat with her legs crossed. Molly giggles.
Me: how big is she
Caleb Widogast (orange heart emoji): I think like six feet. and she is sitting
Me: move!! she could reach down and eat you up!!
Caleb Widogast (orange heart emoji): no i am not vegan-friendly
The train is starting to slow down. Molly can feel his heart beating a little faster, flush on his cheeks - it hasn’t been that long, he chides himself, but he can already feel his tail curling ornately around the strap of his bag, a dumb figure-eight of excitement.
He puts his phone in his pocket, tugging his t-shirt down, finger combing his hair, and stuffing all his snack wrappers into the shopping bag before stuffing that into the gym bag. Across the aisle, the little girl is gathering up all the small collectible plastic toys while her mother coaches her to tidy up faster.
Out the window, Molly can only see rusty metal tracks and barriers, some scaffolding. The train is crawling along now, with several passengers starting to get impatiently to their feet... and then it’s a crowded train platform, colorful and animated with several people moving around and hauling luggage in all directions. Molly scans the far wall, looking for the yoga elf, but it’s nowhere. Just soda ads. 
Did I give the wrong platform number? Am I at the wrong platform? He leans as close as he can to the window, trying to peer further ahead without actually letting his cheek touch the glass. That one might be it. It’s some giant poster of an interior something-or-other, that could be it.
The train has finally stopped. The conductor is saying something over the speaker again, but the noise of the passengers and the people outside is drowning it out. Molly hauls his gym bag over his shoulder, double checking that his phone is in his pocket, turning twice and making sure there’s no wrappers or anything else left be-
“It’s a snake,” the little girl says as she passes him, pointing to his arm while her mother makes an embarrassed face.
Okay. Nothing. He’s good. Molly takes a breath, waiting for an older human man with rolling luggage to scoot along to the stairs before he hops into the line to file out of the train car. It smells industrial outside, and the air already feels balmy and warmer - it feels like where he got picked up years and years ago. He remembers air like this.
“S’cuse me,” the old human man mutters, struggling to push the handle on his luggage down before he can take it down the stairs.
“Oh, I can get it.” Molly gestures to it.
The man looks a little suspicious. “You’re sure?”
“No problem.” Molly jerks his chin for the man to go ahead without it, and the man hesitates before the pressure of the line presses him on, and he takes the steep metal stairs alone, down to the concrete platform where he immediately turns and waits to see if Molly’s going to try to get away with his valuable enormous case.
As if I could run anywhere with this thing, Molly thinks to himself, but stifles the expression that wants to creep up onto his face. He presses the handle button in and pushes it down, grabbing the strap and lifting it with his free arm to carry down. It’s not so bad, and the man seems to be a little shy now that Molly’s made good on his offer. “Thank you, young man.”
“No problem.” Molly gives a little wave, already thinking of Caleb again. Up ahead, where he couldn’t see from his train car toward the back, there’s a huge poster for a gym, and that’s - he just has to get there. It seems like the crowd is going in way too many fucking directions for a space where there’s only people disembarking, but Molly only has to shoulder past a couple people before he’s close enough to start looking around. Orange hair. Orange hair. Caleb. Caleb.
“Mollymauk!”
Molly’s heart leaps up. He looks to the left, where he heard it - an enormous half orc woman passes in front of him, blocking his view, but then he’s there, Caleb’s there. He’s standing and waving, wearing a loose t-shirt, skin already lightly tanned and more freckled than Molly has ever seen it. His hair is in messy waves framing his face, looking a very familiar mix of anxious and shyly happy.
Molly launches forward and leaps toward Caleb, making the human take a step back as he holds him under his legs. “H-hey,” Caleb laughs, gently setting Molly down as Molly keeps his arms wrapped around Caleb’s shoulders. He smells the same.
“I missed you,” Molly says into the warmth of his neck, voice cracking a little. Making himself let go, he smiles wider to see Caleb’s tearing up as well. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Caleb says back, ears red. He’s wearing a backpack, Molly notices, and one strap is pulling the collar of his t-shirt to the side. Molly can see some of the new freckles along his collarbones. He’s so in love. “Was your, um, was your trip okay?”
“Mow,” something says indignantly.
“Oh!” Caleb says, and straightens up and turns a little, looking over his shoulder. “Did he hear you?”
“Mow,” Frumpkin repeats from the transparent carrier backpack, getting on his hind legs and pressing his paws as close to Molly as they can get. Molly coos as he sees the collar with the bow tie. “Mowww.”
“I think he’s yelling at me,” Molly says fondly.
“He missed you too!”
“Mowwwwww.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Molly says. Seeing Frumpkin out with Caleb has reminded him that Caleb often brings his cat with him to keep him calmer in busier areas, and maybe Frumpkin didn’t come to the train station today just to say hi to Molly as early as possible.
“Okay. Are. Are you hungry?” Caleb turns back around and reaches for Molly’s hand, smiling wider when he takes it.
“Let’s just get to your place, I want to set Frumpkin free, I wanna see your place, I,” Molly laughs. “I wanna hug you more...”
Caleb leads him through the interior of the station, to the closest exit, and to the relative quiet of the street outside. The sun is bright and keeping the air almost heady with humid warmth - there are already palm trees dotted here and there, and Molly smiles at them as they walk past.
“Do you like, um, being here again?” Caleb looks a little unsure, and Molly can understand why.
“It feels fine,” he assures. “It feels like a nice sort of familiar, even though I wasn’t here for long. That I can remember, anyway.”
“There is a lot of food here that I did not know about,” Caleb says, tilting his head toward a street lined with restaurants and outdoor seating. “More Asian food, but also, lots of... science food, and...” He trails off, and when Molly waits patiently for him to find the right word in English, Caleb blushes and laughs. “I missed you.”
Molly squeezes his hand and uses his tail to smack the back of Caleb’s leg affectionately.
“Ach!” Caleb jumps but laughs immediately. “I even missed that.”
“It’s Tiefling for ‘I missed you too’.”
“I have learned a little Infernal, and that is not-”
“No no, Tiefling. It’s like sign language but it’s all tail swats.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yes, please be respectful of my culture.”
“Are you sure Tiefling does not have moving ears also? Because your ears are-” Caleb grins delightedly and lets go of Molly’s hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Molly’s ear. “They are all the way up, like, ‘hello, I am happy’.”
Molly fakes a scowl and tries to flatten his ears down a little. He’s not sure if it works, but Caleb laughs.  The apples of Caleb's cheeks are slightly tanned from the sun. Molly only has so much self-control. "Hold on."
"Hm?" Caleb stops when Molly does, and lets himself be guided to the edge of the sidewalk. When Molly tucks in close and hugs him, one publicp-appropriate kiss to his cheek, Caleb laughs softly and kisses him back. "I missed you so much," he confesses softly.
"I missed everything. I missed your accent." Molly laughs, and perks up when Caleb gently takes Molly's right hand and pulls it up fro inspection. "Oh! You' haven't seen it in person yet."
Caleb's admiring the snake design with wide, fascinated eyes. "Driving to the convention was worth it," he says, "it is so beautiful."
"Yeah. I'm just glad it's not itching much anymore." Molly watches Caleb examine him, laughing when Caleb pulls his arm up higher to look at it carefully, looking for any scarring. "I told you, he did a good job!"
"I just want to see for myself!" Caleb protests stubbornly, causing Molly to give a fond roll of his eyes. "It is your first one, and if you want many more, we need to make sure we get someone who can treat your skin properly."
"He's normally based out of New Orleans, I don't think I'll get an opportunity to see that guy again."
"But if he is the... the master class guy at tattoo conventions... and you really like his style..." Caleb finally lets him go, turning to get them moving again. "Then we book a long way in advance, and then fly there? Or take a train?"
"All for a tattoo?" Molly asks, already guessing the answer.
"For you, yes." Caleb shrugs. "Plus, New Orleans is nice, ja?"
"It's supposed to be great." Molly looks down at Caleb's hand that's fallen hopefully between them, and gives his tail instead. Caleb laughs.
Caleb's dorm building is more of an apartment complex, with a modern exterior and a sign-in lobby right inside the door. The walls are lined with fliers for various events and competitions, several stapled over each other. An exhausted looking human with fluffy black hair and glasses is on a laptop in the corner.
"ہیلو," Caleb says across the room to the other human, suprising Molly.
"Hallo," the man says back, not looking up from the screen but raising his hand a little from where it's hovering over the keyboard.
As they go up the first flight of stairs, Caleb shrugs at Molly's questioning glance. "We all learn one or two words of the other's language," he explains. "A bunch of students here are from places in Asia, but other places also."
"That's so cool," Molly enthuses. It sounds like the international, multi-cultural experience everyone wants to get out of going to college.
"There is a biochemistry major who is from Yemen, and a tiefling," Caleb says as they reach a hallway and turn right. "He says my Infernal is better than my Arabic, so I have just been using that..."
They both laugh. "I'm good for something!" Molly says with a joking toss of his hair.
Caleb looks mildly offended. "You are …" He seems to be struggling for the way to say it. "You are very good," he says finally, as they reach the end of the hall. "I may have a bit of a complex," Molly confesses, only fractionally joking. "You're at, like, a top ten school here, and I'm..."
"'The best Rosencrantz I have seen in a community theater setting,'" Caleb quotes, suddenly and with unexpected conviction, "'showing an innate understanding of comedic timing that Stoppard would be proud to see.'"
Molly stops and stares at Caleb as the human fiddles with the key to the apartment door. "I mean. I knew you must've read those, but."
"Of course I read it, I read all of zem." Caleb looks at him stubbornly. "And I was heartbroken when you were the understudy for Puck, and he never got sick. You would have been incredible."
"Don't make me cry in a hallway," Molly mumbles to his feet.
Caleb mutters something under his breath in Sylvan, and the key finally unlocks the door and lets them inside. Molly has seen several pictures of this apartment, but those static images are one thing compared to the panoramic view of it all. Sunlight is shining in through the two windows, warming up the kitchenette and small dining space. The bookshelf is mostly filled with coils of power supplies, miscellaneous extra hardware, and some pantry items. It's small and very simple, but it's Caleb's, and Molly can tell how much that means to the other man as his shoulders relax.
"Home sweet home," Caleb says, easing the backpack off his shoulders and unzipping the top so Frumpkin can get out at his leisure. (Frumpkin, who is curled up and possibly napping at the bottom of the bag, does not take them up on that option just this second.) "The bathroom is that door, the bedroom is that door."
"Is there anything else you have to do today?" Molly asks immediately.
"No," Caleb confirms. "No classes until morning lab tomorrow at half one."
Molly steps into his space and puts his hands at Caleb’s waist. “Can we...?”
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