pool day (c)

a commission for Ori

The thermometer, it seemed, had finally passed some magical marker – that specific point of heat and humidity that, to anyone who paid attention, meant just one thing.

It was summer. Finally!

For most, that meant long days in the sun, relaxing and lounging about – but for Aimie, that meant the pool was open and ready for business! Lifeguards were, generally, a pretty in-demand job this time of year… and, well.

Being your own flotation device tended to make that a bit easier, didn’t it?

So, as she tugged on the swimming trunks and the bright red shirt (rated for the pool, of course), she was more than ready for a nice day in the sun. 

The walk to the pool was only about ten or so minutes – and, as soon as she got there, it was bustling – packed to the brim with critters trying to beat the heat in one way or another, which meant one more toy added to the bunch just made the party that little bit more fun!

Tossing her towel and belongings that shouldn’t get wet into the little lifeguard stand, Aimie climbed in – lounging as best she could, enjoying the cool water and the hot sun shining down. This was the life, that was for sure.

A few other friends showed up later, and Aimie spent most of the day in the water – swimming, being used to help float after races, and just generally floating about, but as the day finally began to draw to a close, she was more than happy with how well it’d gone.

And to think, this was just the first day – she had a whole summer left!

She was so lost in thought, in fact, that she didn’t notice the little curly-tailed sheepdog puppy making their big cannonball jump directly on top of her, landing with a loud SQRK and a splash that sent water a dozen feet into the air as the puppy bounced nearly straight up, landing in the water a foot or so away!

The dog’s friends cheered as Aimie laughed, the excitement infectious, and the rest of the shift passed by with little fanfare. Soon enough, the time to head home had arrived.

Hauling herself back up out of the water, the inflatable dog shook most of the water clear, and after a quick toweling, she was feeling brand new!

Grabbing her belongings from the stand, Aimie headed for the gate. She paused for a moment, squeaky mitt holding it open, before sighing in content.

It was going to be a great summer.

blueberry (c)

a mini-comm for Feybeasts

“…Hm.”

It was… obviously a trap, Kamila thought to herself. A wooden table, all set up just… by itself? Free samples sign?

Unlabeled, somehow still frozen milkshakes in the summer sun?

Idly, the kitsune squinted at them. They… probably didn’t respond. Glasses don’t usually do that.

She was almost entirely of the mind to walk away, to leave this weird little display and the frozen treats behind… but, something nagged her. It was hot. It did look tasty. One little sip was definitely not enough to pick up a curse, or activate some weird magic, or get in trouble… so, why not.

There were three, on the table. A ruddy reddish brown one she assumed was some kind of chocolate, an orange and blue one that almost looked gaudy… and the one she actually ended up picking up, pleasantly chilled against her paw, was a bright, vibrant blue.

It smelled sweetly of blueberries and summer, tickling her nose even as the straw so helpfully provided by the table slid in without an ounce of resistance – and the first taste was divine.

Of course it was! How could it not be?

So divine, in fact, that it felt as though the refreshing chill was spreading all through her… 

…until, as she sat the mysteriously empty glass back down on the table, bewildered that she’d somehow finished the entire thing, her stomach grumbled.

Her shirt felt tight. Taut. Like a drum pulled thin.

Kamila glanced down, half expecting the weird milkshake to have some something, and immediately watched as her tummy decided the shirt simply wasn’t enough, spilling outwards as her fur began to stain a deep, dark blue.

“I KNEW IT,” Kamila shouted, to nobody in particular. She wobbled a little as her center of gravity was thrown off by the sudden new weight, an intense rushing-of-fluid sound similar to filling a bathtub – it struck so quickly and suddenly that the kitsune almost had no time to react, her whole body bloating outwards like a filling water balloon! Already, her fur was staining blue in large splotches, cheeks growing chubbier with each passing second as she wobbled towards the table – but, unfortunately for Kamila, it… wasn’t enough.

She stumbled slightly, increasingly berry-esque visage making moving more difficult… and, as the smallest of trips stopped her paw for just a moment, she pitched forward.

The table gave up almost instantly – and the milkshakes toppled, falling to the ground just as she did… and a few of both managed to splash directly into her waiting, dazed mouth.

She lay there for a moment, dazed, before, with a sound reminiscent of a kaiju growl, her tummy grumbled.

Oh dear.

dinner! (c)

for Reed

“Phew…”

Reed let herself relax for a moment, the last few stairs passing by like old friends. It’d been a long, long day, but… it was over. Finally. 

Finally.

The routine was the same, as ever – unlatching the deadbolt, pulling the chain back, and with a protest of old, hardly ever used steel hinges, the roof access door on her apartment building swung open to reveal the sprawling vista of the city at night beneath a starry sky.

The roof was somewhere she’d come to relax, and nobody’d ever told her she couldn’t – certainly no signs were ever posted, anyway. 

So. Here she was, finding her familiar folding chair seat (carried up here one evening long ago), and plopping down in it for a little impromptu city watching, gaze drifting down from the limitless heavens to the lit windows and busy highways of a world that never really slept. Out, beyond the suburbs, to the distant farms, and mountains; rolling hills, forests, and the sea beyond yet further, still.

It was such a deep thought, gazing into the horizon, that she didn’t notice the thump.

It was easy to miss, surely; a footnote, some slammed door a floor down, perhaps.

The second, though. That was a little harder to miss. A pebble on the stone rim of the roof bounced.

The third? Well, Reed was just starting to change her mind, gaze lifting from the city beyond to the stars… when she realized, belatedly, she couldn’t… see any stars.

The rooftop was lit by small string lights, strung around a small set of four wooden poles – and, as the cowbear stared up in shocked confusion, those lights provided just enough light to reflect on… a nose?

Nice night for a walk,” boomed a voice, accompanied by what sounded like rhythmic, rushing wind – and, as the moon finally came out from behind the clouds that had obscured it so far, tonight, the newcomer was revealed.

A… a dog? A dog at least five stories tall, peering down at the hapless cowbear the same way one ponders a nice sandwich, or a plate of boneless wings. The wind, she realized, was their curly tail wagging.

“W-Well enough, I’d imagine…!” Reed stammered, staring up – eyes darting for the door, something the big dog also clearly noticed, as they leaned against the building with a worrying groan of brick and mortar, placing a paw in the way. “Oh, now! No need to cut out introductions short, is there? That’s awfully rude to consider.

“I-I do need to be getting to bed, I have work in the–”

The dog laughed, a booming sound that set off a few car alarms a block over.

Their paw brought itself up onto two fingers, play-walking it’s way over to the cowbear – and, with a little twist, sent her spinning.

“We’re just getting to know each other, right? It’s nothing without foreplay.”

The dog tilted their big head, their other paw brushing the hair out of their eyes. “Got a name, munchkin?”

“R-Reed.”

“Arlie.”

The dog grinned.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re enjoying yourself.”

Her cheeks reddened, as she glanced down at the brick – uh, surprisingly… cracked, brick. The dog must not have known how hard they leaned against the building…

“Tell you what. Dinner? On me.”

Reed blinked. Dinner? Like a date?

“What, like, now?”

Arlie shrugged.

“What’s… for dinner…?”

“You.”

Reed had just a moment to gasp in shock as the big paw that’d been keeping her held in place suddenly grabbed her entire body, lifting her into the sky as Arlie stood up straighter. The wind whistled in her ears as she was moved around, lifted higher into the star studded sky (noticing, for the first time, the police cars and a few shocked passers-by on the street below, pointing and shouting) – until the paw stopped.

Beneath her, Arlie grinned, licking their lips – and their maw opened, sharp, canine teeth and warm darkness yawning like a cave. 

“Try not to cling to anything. Last one who did took a while to get tired, spent half an hour with a lump in my cheek. Annoying.”

Reed stammered something incoherent, trailing off into a scream of alarm as the paw suddenly loosened its grip – the chubby cowbear falling, falling, falling – and being caught by a tongue.

Arlie snapped their mouth shut, pinning the struggling cowbear to the roof of their mouth – savoring the flavor, her clothes and her body and the shock and surprise washing off of her like marinade. Delicious.

The dog’s saliva was thick, and heavy like the sea – clinging to her clothes and her fur like nothing she’d ever felt… but it was where it was taking her that she was worried about. Arlie tilted their head back, feeling Reed slide backwards as their tongue forced her back – and, with one last, loud gulp, she plummeted away to join the rest of tonight’s dinner.

“Beef always strikes the right chords, I think,” Arlie hummed to themself, their stomach rumbling as the cowbear plummeted into the dark.

“Try not to last too long or I might need seconds!”

uwu (c)

for AquaticNebulae

It was, finally, May.

Spring had held on a bit too long for her tastes, as far as she was concerned – snow hanging in on the weather forecast until mid-April was, at best, an annoyance. It had its place, sure, but… well. Winter had it’s time in the sun, and Spring had come and gone.

Which, of course, meant Summer.

Basil had always had a soft spot for summer, which, of course, was why she was currently stuffing a few bottles of sunscreen into her beach bag, towel folded over her shoulder. The local pool opened as soon as the weather hit the mid 80s, and today was a good ten degrees hotter than that – a great day to lay out in the sun and splash around!

It wasn’t even really that long of a walk, either, though the summer heat and the pounding sun certainly made it less than ideal; as far as she was concerned, though, that just made the prospect of a nice time in the shade and cool pool water even better. 

Surprisingly, as the cat finally made her way up to the gate, the pool seemed… empty? The only things in the water, as far as the cat could tell, were a couple of fairly mundane inflatables, grinning away in the summer sun.

She paused, glancing over at the hours. Plenty of time left in the day, and no closed signs, or… any indicator it wasn’t open? Had she just showed up at a weird time between busy hours? Lifeguard on lunch break?

…Huh.

Shrugging, Basil pushed the gate open, padding across the warm concrete pool deck and dropping her bag on one of the many unoccupied chairs. A large inflatable seal occupied the chair next to it, close enough she could touch it if she really wanted to. Bright, tight, and yellow, it wobbled a little in the slight breeze.

Something felt… off, about this whole experience, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it might’ve been. Had she missed something? Forgotten something at home? Some holiday she’d somehow overlooked?

The cat was so deep in thought, in fact, she didn’t notice she’d brushed up against the seal… and, as a result, her paw had begun to swell.

“Probably not very safe to have no lifeguard on duty,” Basil grumbled to herself, starting to tug her shirt off to reveal the swimsuit – just in time for her paw to loudly SQRRRK from the pressure of being flattened by the sleeve, instantly drawing the cat’s attention and stopping her thoughts in their tracks.

The shirt flew off, discarded without a second thought, and as she stared, wide-eyed, her arm ballooned outwards with the tell-tale hissing of inflating plastic.

“H-Huh?! What the hell?!” Basil protested, her midsection already beginning to hiss and swell as she stumbled away from the grinning seal, now gently rolling away from where her surprised flailing of her new tube of an arm had knocked it.

The changes crawled higher, her shoulder smoothing over and becoming more or less jointless – and before long even her nose had begun to fill with the smell of chlorinated water and soft vinyl plastic, snout beginning to soften and push outwards, simplifying as it went. Her mouth, puckered as the pressure made it feel, flattened – spreading across her new plastic snout into a very simplified and cartoony “W” shape even as her midsection grew more toyish and lighter, the bottom-heavy sensation the stumbling, mumbling cat causing her to wobble around as she tried to begin making her way for the gate.

Higher (and lower!) the changes crept, new tummy valve appearing with a quiet pop! of plastic snapping into shape, her swimsuit already barely hanging on by threads as the body it hugged grew right through it – yet, still, she wobbled towards the gate… until, with a sudden foomp!, everything went… fuzzy.

Her eyes had, as far as she knew, gone the same way her mouth had – but for whatever reason, she couldn’t exactly… see…?

Up her big, inflatable paws lifted, squeaking against a smooth, unnervingly simple face – the “UwU” print it had become almost laughably cheaply printed, even as the cat overstepped her next wobbly, hissy, inflating step – plunging directly into the cool water of the swimming pool with barely any splash at all.

Basil lay there for a moment, swelling into shape – until, suddenly, it all stopped.

Cool water lapped against her inflated body, caressing it like a blanket – and the warm summer sun, earlier almost unbearable, was… perfect.

The inflatable cat would’ve grinned if she could’ve. 

Well. There’s today, sorted.

There was a sound, somewhere nearby – the tell-tale sound of the gate being unlatched, and the instantly recognizable sound of someone swearing under their breath.

“Oh, jeez. Again?”

Paws against concrete, and someone leaning over them. A poke. Another poke. 

“Uh. Hello? Somebody took the no entry on lunch break sign down. Sorry about the uh… the toys?” She could hear the sheepishness.

“I really hope this wears off by tomorrow or I’m so fired.”

forget-me-not (c)

for AquaticNebulae

“…Hmph.”

With a little contented sigh, Eris slowly sat down – crossing her forelegs to make herself more comfortable in a way she’d never have expected to be so… familiar, even…

…well, however long it’d been. A year? Two, almost? 

Shockingly, becoming a pokemon hadn’t even been close to the biggest change in her life in the past few years – but, as far as she was concerned, right now, watching a flock of wingulls twist in the evening wind, it… probably was the best.

Certainly the most memorable.

It was about that time, as the sylveon let out a long, comfy yawn, that she realized she was… really comfortable. The soft, velvety green grass cradled her like a soft pillow, the warm sun and cool wind mixed and swirled together on her fur in just the right way to keep her feeling just right… and above, white fluffy clouds crossed the sky, pushed along by the summer breeze.

A nap couldn’t hurt, could it?

So, as Eris finally curled up, deciding to catch a wink or two of sleep… she drifted off into the land of dreams, the forest around her filled with birdsong and wind.

Until, suddenly, there was a rustling.

From the bushes surrounding the small meadow the Sylveon had picked for their impromptu afternoon nap, an orange-and-black tail peeked out – followed by a head, clad in a little pair of goggles and a mischievous grin. A Nickit – but not just any Nickit – this was a famous thief!

…or, well. Soon to be famous. A working-on-being-famous thief didn’t quite have the same ring to it, now did it?

Still, as the Nickit peered across the meadow, their grin grew a little bit wider. A mark! An easy mark, too… what kinda pokemon falls asleep out here, anyway? What a rookie!

Lightning quick, the little thief darted out of the bushes – tiptoeing across the green grass, trying to stay as quiet as possible… and, with a practiced little YOINK, Eris’s hairband and the cute little chopsticks poked through her hair were safely in the comfortably lightly used ownership of the Nickit, smug as they were. Didn’t even wake the Sylveon up! 

Allowing themself the slightest amount of celebration, the Nickit bolted, hoping to be far and away by the time their recent mark even noticed the things were missing… and, as soon as they crossed the border to the meadow, they promptly forgot why they had a weird little piece of cloth and two wooden sticks in their mouth. 

Something about them seemed… gone? Oh, well. Garbage, probably…

With a ptoo!, the Nickit dropped them on the forest floor, padding off into the undergrowth.

…Eris, however, was dreaming. A dream she hadn’t had in… 

…in a while?

Her own self was staring back, human body as recognizable as ever, but… something felt wrong.

She knew she was supposed to have recognized her – knew that face, the hair, the glasses, the hair tie and the chopsticks – but… the longer she focused, trying to force the information out of the dreamscape, the more it seemed to dance away, dwindling to nothing. Who was that? Why’d she seem familiar…?

Huh?

“W-Wait…!” 

The Sylveon held out a paw, and, suddenly, she awoke with a little yelp.

The moon was high overhead, casting the field in sharp relief – and as the sylveon stood, for a moment she felt… weird. Almost like something snapped into place that hadn’t been there before, a piece removed, a piece gained.

Eris looked down at her paws, the same four she’d always had – and up, at her ribbons held about her like arms ready for a hug. It seemed… wrong, somehow, like she was missing something right in front of her nose.

Her hair fell down as she glanced down, then back up, and something about that seemed funny. Wasn’t there usually something holding it back?

…No, how would she have tied it with paws? That didn’t make any sense. 

Had someone else done it for her…?

The sylveon shook her head, conflicting memories melding together into something more fitting – she’d obviously been out here to do some relaxing! Right? 

…Well, judging by the time, she’d definitely relaxed enough. Sheesh…

Must’ve fallen asleep on accident, the Guild was probably worried sick…

Eris gathered herself up, shaking the dust free as best she could, and wandered off back towards the path, noticing something… odd, laying in the grass as she passed back into the woods. Two little… sticks?

She pawed them around for a moment, wondering why they seemed the faintest bit familiar, before shrugging. Oh, well. 

Probably some lost rockruff toy or something.

bubblite (c)

for Okie and Jono

Phew.

It might’ve been mid-April, but as far as the two raccoons were concerned, their outing in the city park was a scorcher.

It was easily 90 degrees – in the shade! It certainly hadn’t been anywhere near this hot when they’d left the house earlier that morning, and the forecast hadn’t even come close… as far as Okie and Jono knew, they’d skipped straight to summer.

“C’monnn…” Jono was complaining, tapping the bottom of the distressingly empty water bottle for those last few drops, before half-heartedly tossing the empty plastic into a nearby trash can as the pair wandered past. “There’s got to be somewhere to get something to drink, don’t you think?”

“Like a cart or something?” Okie asked, glancing over. Their fellow racc seemed a little worse for wear… maybe another water or something might be worth the stop.

It’d beat the heat, at least.

As the two rounded a corner, a sight they’d both not expected – especially as this was a corner they’d just been around, anyway? – met the two of them.

A little ice-chest on a cart, brightly dressed up as a “free samples!” cart, being set up by a cheery looking red and brown-furred dog. “Bubblite” was scribbled across the front of the cart on a cute little banner, white bubbly font on a bright blue background.

“Oh!” The dog barked in surprise, turning to face the newcomers – jumping behind the cart with enough speed to wobble on a paw. “Customers! Um. I wasn’t, uh, set up yet, heh…”

“What’s the sample?” Jono asked, perking up a little. The dog seemed friendly enough, wagging at the attention.

“Marketing test of some new soda or something,” The dog waved a paw, fishing around in the cooler and peeking inside when their paw didn’t find anything. “Getting paid to stand in the park and hand it out, yknow? Pretty day, at least.”

“And the heat?”

“Well, that’s what the umbrella’s for.” The dog said, nonplussed. “Aaaand here-!”

They held out a paw, a little glass bottle of very bubbly soda swirling around inside. “I’d, uh, recommend waiting for the bubbles to go down before drinking it. It’s… something!”

“Does it have… flavor? Or anything?” The two raccoons asked, peering into the glass. “Do we need a form, or…?”

“Nope! Just…”

The dog trailed off as the clearly parched raccoons both cracked the bottle open, downing the contents – it, uh, must’ve been a bit warmer out than they’d thought. Oh dear.

“W-Well, uh, just let me know how it is!”

Jono and Okie, however, had already finished the fizzy, delicious soda that called the glass bottle home – it had, quite frankly, been one of the best drinks they’d ever had.

Light, sparkly, and bright, it had tasted faintly of tropical fruit and an almost smoothie-like creaminess – reminding the two of them of a beach, somewhere nice and warm. Not humid and gross like today was. There was even the slightest hint of a salty breeze, as the finished bottle was handed back to the bemused dog to throw away, but that was almost certainly their imagination. After all, they were nowhere near a beach!

…which meant, as the two began to make their way back down the path, the quiet sqrks of their haunches as they walked definitely drew their attention.

“Did you hear something?” Okie asked off-handedly, glancing up at the cloudless sky.

“Mrprhprh.” Jono replied, confusedly.

Instantly, the raccoons looked at each other – Jono’s snout beginning to squeak over as their grin flattened out into a cute plastic decal, paws flying to their face – and Okie’s paws going to their tummy, already beginning to swell against their shirt!

“W-What?!” Okie managed, just in time for a cute little chunky pooltoy valve to pop free of the inflatable tummy currently riding their shirt up, their haunches and legs beginning to swell and grow more toyishly proportioned as fur gave way to soft, pliable vinyl – and poor Jono, airheaded as they were, wobbled in place, handpaws hisssssing as they began to swell and simplify into cute little raccoon toy paws, hair solidifying into a cute single piece! Their cheeks blew up first, eyes and nose flattening into cutesy happy decals – and, with a loud SQRK, they squished their cheeks together.

Okie, on the other hand, was trying their best to stop the encroaching plastic at their chest – even as their tail swelled and stretched, gaining a valve of its own on the bottom – after all, it held enough air to warrant one!

Both raccs were quite a bit larger, swelling and squeaking and stretching into their new toyish shapes as they were – so it came as no surprise when, with a loud rrrRIP of fabric tearing, their outfits gave up the proverbial ghost, leaving both toys slightly embarrassed as the loud hissing seemed to grow ever-louder and more noticeable, a confused jogger deciding to take a different path altogether when they noticed what was going on. Okie’s huge toyish paws came in next, just in time for one last big press of their tummy to force enough air into their head for their snout to balloon outwards, new decaled face appearing shocked just long enough to stick.

Jono wobbled, their tummy beginning to swell to match the toyish proportions their upper body had gained – and, with a loud squeak, they fell over.

This, naturally, only forced air into their bottom half – their tail swelling outwards with a squeak so loud the dog back at the cart heard it over the wind and birdsong.

Still, though, the changes weren’t quite finished – Okie and Jono both tried to wobble, plastic joints and round tummies finally reaching their properly inflated pressures, and… maybe even a little extra, if the almost teasing one last hiss was anything to go by.

Both waited for a moment, half expecting it to start back up as the hissing dwindled away into nothing… but it never came.

There was the sound of footsteps, and, after a moment, the curly-tailed cart-puppy peeked into their fields of view.

“I, uh, see you didn’t follow my instructions,” The dog sheepishly offered, brushing their hair out of their eyes.

“It’ll wear off in a day or two, but in the meantime…” The dog’s voice got quieter, conspiratorially.

“Wanna hit the lake?”

universal, huh (c)

for Ringo

Callister’s Curios.

It’d been a store as long as Ringo could remember – some wooden, shadowed, tightly-shuttered maze of cluttered shelves and dusty windows, a domain of retirees and bored teenagers to pick through forgotten TV sets and VHS tapes from the late 80s even Blockbuster hadn’t stocked.

Still, as Ringo stopped on the sidewalk, peering inside, they couldn’t help but be enticed. Secondhand stores always had something interesting to look at, and… well. Why not, right?

Not like there was much else going on, today.

His first instinct, upon ducking through the small, dusty door, was to sneeze. This place was buried in antiquity, a few sporadic cobwebs strung between old hanging lights – but had a homey charm all to itself, reminding the coyote of a wood cabin, almost. The shelves were stacked, various knickknacks and household decorations spilled this way and that, and as he began to wind his way deeper, the collections seemed to grow more… eclectic.

Mirrors shaped like novelty cartoon characters. An entire section that was, as far as he could tell, just made up of beach towels. A carved table made to look like a mermaid holding up a big clam shell.

That was when he saw it.

Perched atop one of the shelves, oddly pristine despite laying in a pile of old doilies and mothballs, was… a remote. A very early 90s looking “universal” style remote, with more buttons than he’d ever seen on one like it – and, as far as he could tell, it was only a dollar?

The remote at the apartment did need replacing… what the hell. Sure.

Up to the front he trudged, dodging a few stray cobwebs as he did so – only to find this place didn’t seem to have a cashier? Or… a register, merely a cash box with “pay inside” written on the side in marker.

O…kay. 

Fishing a dollar out, he stuffed it inside – and was off, heading home to show his roommate the weird new remote he’d found.

“…So it’s… a remote?” Charlie repeated, scratching his temple with a finger. “Didn’t we have a remote already?”

“Not one like this! And for a dollar? C’mon, dude. A steal.”

The skunk shrugged, picking it up – but, suddenly, squinted at something. 

One of the buttons, in very faded text, read “Change.”

Change… what? The station? Resolution? Some function of the remote?

Charlie pointed the remote vaguely in the direction of the TV, and pressed the button – and instantly, Ringo was struck by the strangest sensation he’d ever felt. 

…It was almost as if he’d come… apart…?

The skunk dropped the remote in surprise, just as Ringo clattered to the floor – the bodysuit his midsection had become laying flat, paws and head rolling away. Ringo was still trying to say something, but the words had been completely cut off, their vision staring roughly at the ceiling. Um. What happened?

“F-Fuck! What the hell did this thing do?!

Grabbing the remote from the floor, Charlie scanned the buttons in a panic trying to find an undo, or a rewind, or a– a-ha!

The two arrows together had to be go back, right? What else could it do?

Pointing at the fursuit that was his roommate just a few moments earlier, the skunk clicked the rewind button in – and watched in bewilderment as the suit began to, before his very eyes, rewind – stitching un-stitching, stuffing vanishing, detailing disappearing! Ringo was quickly turning into just piles of Ringo-colored felt, thread, and sewing needles, and before long, that’s… that’s all there was!

“U-Uh!” Charlie stammered, trying to hit fast forward to fix the suit and accidentally hitting the button a few times in rapid succession – which, to his immense relief, it seemed to work, more or less. Soon enough, the suit had stitched itself back together, re-stuffing and cutely staring back at him in a way that only barely implied the coyote inside was paying attention… but the fast-forward continued. It almost seemed to be speeding up, the cumulative effect from so many accidental presses ending up almost quadrupling the time spent fast forwarding!

The suit began to age – fur growing clumped, design seeming a little less modern, more retro. It was almost as if the fast forward was adding years to the suit sitting here, aging it backwards in time instead of forward! Before his very eyes, Ringo was going back through the different design eras of fursuits, one at a time!

“S-Stop!” The skunk half shouted, reaching out to try and grab the aging fursuit – but, finally, it seemed to slow.

Ringo sat there, a pile of late 90s-style cartoon coyote felt and fabric, as Charlie stared on in mute disbelief.

The purple skunk didn’t quite know what to make of the entire thing – but, as they looked down at the remote, the dozens of buttons seemed to almost… entice them, even further.

…Well. It couldn’t get worse than it already was, could it…?

Picking one at random and closing their eyes, Charlie held the remote up and clicked it…

…forgetting about the mirror on the other side of the room. The signal reflected almost directly back at Charlie, who, for the briefest of moments, felt the summer sun, and the cool caress of pool water. With a loud SQRK, he vanished, and the remote clattered to the ground, well within sight of Ringo but definitely not reachable.

S-Surely it wears off?

The fursuit sat there, staring.

Right?

no barking! (c)

for Toya

As far as Toya was concerned, today couldn’t be going worse.

It had started, as every bad day does, with traffic – eight lanes and barely a single space between for what felt like an hour, running him well into an hour late – which, in its own special way, led to more problems. His entire routine had been thrown off, his coworkers had been a little frustrated with his lateness and a client had arrived for a meeting he hadn’t been there for…

…in other words, it’d been one Monday of a Monday. Still, as he put his car in park and peered out through the pouring rain at the bright lights of the grocery store, he was at least relieved the day was almost over. Just a few things to pick up to throw together a quiet dinner, and a better start tomorrow.

Throwing his jacket’s hood up, Toya hurried through the rain, getting soaked in the process – and, slowly, began to gather the list he’d thought up on the way over. A few eggs, assorted greens, broth for soup…

…until, as he arrived at the most important ingredient, a nice beef roast for the oven, currently being lifted from the cooler by a little old gray tabby cat, black raincoat and wide-brimmed hat strikingly forgettable.

Toya, instantly, sighed – loud enough that the old woman looked up, eyes narrowing.

“Somethin’ I can help you with, laddie?”

Toya frowned. “I don’t suppose I could ask to have that.”

The woman blinked. “You’re asking an old woman for her groceries?”

“W-Well, no, I’m… look, it’s been a long day, and I really need that to complete my list.”

“That’s an awfully rude way to go about it.” She countered, clearly annoyed. Toya normally would’ve backed down, but the frustration and exhaustion clearly was boiling over – he snapped.

“I’m surprised someone your age needs that much,” He grumbled under his breath – and, in an instant, the old woman’s demeanour changed.

“I believe it’s high time you learn your manners!” She spat, placing the roast in her cart – and as both paws came up, they crackled like sparks in open air, causing the dog to step back in surprise. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?

Instantly, Toya felt himself being wrapped like a blanket in some sort of fuzzy magical sensation – and began to dwindle into his clothes, the witch’s magic peeling years away like the rind of an orange! For an instant, his outfit was too big – then snapped back as if catching up, business suit and tie first turning into his usual jeans and shirt from college, then his high school outfit… then younger still, back through his school age wardrobe and younger – until, after a few moments (and a lot of smoke!), the witch was left with a teary eyed toddler holding a big basket of heavy groceries! 

“W-Waddaya mean th’ beginnin’!” Toya protested, words unfamiliar and a bit harder than he’d ever remembered them being – but the witch merely laughed, not cackling, but certainly not holding back what she thought, either.

“Oh, you’ll find out, my dear puppy! Learn not to be so barky, next time!”

With that, there was an enormous poof of smoke, and Toya expected her to be gone… but there she was, slowly walking away grumbling to herself about the uppity youth these days and how in her day they’d have been turned into a newt or something.

Toya, for his part, couldn’t believe what happened – and as he tried to take a few steps after her, he realized two things at once.

The first, naturally, being the poofy, cushiony sensation between his legs – one he knew well enough, but certainly h-hadn’t needed in quite a while?

The second, and much more pressing now that his knees had crossed, was that he definitely wasn’t potty trained, and by the look other customers (and an employee or two) were giving him, he was definitely looking the part of little pee-pants toddler.

Toya waddled forward, basket forgotten – he had to find a bathroom, or… or something! He couldn’t wet himself in public like this, that witch had definitely cursed him, or… or something?!

“Oh! Oh, honey, are you lost? Where’s your mommy?”

An employee had come up behind the waddling puppy, grabbing one of his paws and starting to lead him away, up an aisle towards the front – and definitely not towards the hallway labeled “bathroom” – and just at the worst possible time, too!

“B-Bafroom!” Toya half shouted, eyes welling up – but the employee didn’t understand. 

The lynx smiled, nodding understandingly. “Oh, she’s in the bathroom? Come on, I’ll take you to the front, we can wait for her there.”

Toya strained, trying to hold it as they walked up the aisle – but it was too much. The stress, the curse… embarrassment washed across his face as his diaper began to grow heavy, saggy, a few of the little stars and moons printed on it disappearing to indicate to anyone who saw it that it was wet – and the employee, still, tugged him onwards.

Through a giggling, staring crowd of customers – of whom the witch wasn’t a member of – to the front, where the employee asked over the intercom if anyone was missing a child.

Flumping down with a particularly noticeable crinkle, Toya crossed his arms – and, wishing as hard as he can, hoped the witch hadn’t been serious about leaving him to it. He’d just… he’d snapped! It was an accident! 

It was just then, that there was a small tap on his shoulder – and he looked up into the grinning face of an old gray cat, wide brimmed hat tilted back.

“Lessons learned the hard way are less easily forgotten!” She laughed, giving him a wink. “Chin up, lad. It’s just for the day. Or three. Can’t quite remember, been a long while since I last cast it.”

Toya gulped.

“I-I’m sowwy!”

“Aye, that you are! Think before you bark next time, will you?”

With that, she turned and left – just as the employee returned with a brand new pack of diapers, and… baby… powder…?

Uh-oh.

dreams (c)

for Maddie

It was the first time they’d met.

They were sure of it.

Naturally, as Maddie’s waking world gave way to the world of dreams, it had once again dug deep into their memory in pursuit of a topic – dragging something forth that they hadn’t considered particularly notable, nor fascinating.

As royalty, the Prince had met many fellow royals from across the myriad principalities and kingdoms of the vast demesnes that comprised posthuman space – but, for some reason, tonight one stood out aboard all others.

At a palatial estate on some forgotten alpine world of mountains and forests, in their dream Maddie was entertaining guests; when and where this was, specifically, they couldn’t say. Faceless courtesans and merchants drifted past, offering platitudinous conversation and weightless chatter – much of their waking life reflected in their sleep, it seemed.

One face, however, stood out.

It was a dog, or at least one of the many canid-adjacent posthuman morphemes that dotted the stars. Their long brown hair was tied back in a tight bun, bangs obscuring one eye, and tailored finely in a very fascinating flowing beige robe-esque suit… yet, despite clearly looking the part, they seemed bored.

A kindred spirit in that, at least.

Maddie stood, brushing by the empty courtesans and their vague protests, and caught the dog as they turned away to head for some other part of the busy room.

“…Pardon me,” The Prince said gently, trying to hide their relief in finding someone else to talk to. Dream logic dictated that they truly didn’t notice that the dog seemed a little more real than most, here – themselves excluded, of course.

“Yes?” Their voice was light, and gentle – warm, and bright.

“I cannot help but notice you seemed… less than enthused,” Maddie began, tail drooping ever so slightly. “Was the gathering not to your liking?”

“Ah.” The dog chuckled, curled tail wagging a little as they sheepishly raised their paws in a placating gesture, palms out. “I meant nothing of the sort! I simply don’t feel as though I fit in, is all. Nothing more.”

“I see,” Maddie offered, trying to figure out when and where they’d met this dog, in particular. The guest lists at these parties had been exclusive, they recalled, hazy through the dream – to be here at all was a sign of some connection or another. 

“And who might you be, if you excuse my questions? You seem familiar, but I cannot place the face.”

“None of note, I’m afraid,” The dog bowed their head slightly, bright green eyes mirthful. “I am known as Argyle, of Restria. Arlie to friends. Hardly a prince or a duke, but I am an heir to a small seaside estate?”

“Indeed?”

Maddie smiled, despite themself. Conversation came easily with the stranger – it was as if they’d known each other for years, though this was almost certainly the first time they’d ever set eyes upon one another.

“How was it that you find yourself at this gathering, anyway?” Maddie finally asked after a few more minutes of conversation, tilting their head slightly in a way that implied curiosity.

“A long story, but not an interesting one,” Arlie shrugged, taking a sip from their drink and swishing the remaining liquid around with a swirl. “A mutual acquaintance of ours, it seems, has… shall we say, taken a back seat, for the time being.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t quite follow.”

“Are you, perhaps, familiar with the House Kellen?”

Maddie blinked. The name sounded familiar, but beyond that… 

“…Not as such, as far as I’m aware?”

Arlie laughed, giving the slightest of shrugs. There was an earnest sincerity there, a warmth that laid the slight confusion of the response to rest.

“Then I suppose there’s little else I can say, apart from that I am here in another’s stead. They send their warm regards, and wish you well.”

With that, the dog offered their quiet goodbyes, and vanished into the crowd – and, soon after, Maddie awoke.

It was far too early for their usual morning ruminations, still dark outside as it was – but as they rose, gently parting the curtains to gaze out over the rolling forests and distant mountains of their home, they couldn’t stop thinking about the dream.

In another’s place, and they wish you well.

Maddie stood there for a long while, willing memory to come – but it never quite did.

cooper’s pool day (c)

for Cooper

It was a warm, sunny Spring day – and as far as Cooper was concerned, that suited him just fine.

Winter had been rough, after all – lasting all the way until April, with the occasional snow flurry or downpour-for-days still happening even now! It was well into the time warm weather would’ve been preferable, and, as he stood a little straighter, adjusting the towel over his right shoulder and listening to the birdsong, he’d made his mind up right then and there.

Today was a pool day.

Luckily, with the advent of the warmer season (and spring break!), the local pools had opened their doors for the first time since last fall, all manner of critters looking to beat the heat splashing about in the cerulean depths of the pool.

Eagerly, the ferret hurried up his steps, unlatching the pool gate and stepping inside. A familiar sound-and-smellscape struck him immediately; laughing, splashing, the scent of sunscreen and chlorinated pool water… the smells of summer, washing over him with such intensity that if he closed his eyes he’d have assumed it was August. Still, a nice day was a nice day – and he certainly wasn’t going to squander it by standing around thinking about the pool. He was getting in!

Letting the gate shut behind him, Cooper wandered along the empty chairs and picked a particularly sunny spot to lay out, umbrella casting just enough shade to cool it off. He laid out his towel, tugged off his shirt, and had just started to lay down when something poked into the small of his back.

A… bottle?

A squeeze tube, of some kind? The ferret blinked, shifting a little and reaching underneath with a paw. Sure enough, a little toothpaste-reminiscent tube of something was laying on top of the chair, freshly retrieved. Some sort of sunscreen for fur?

Barely used…?

Cooper glanced around, wondering if he’d laid down in a chair already claimed. No towel, no bag, no goggles or anything indicating someone was coming back for their errant ointment… huh. Probably fine?

With a mental shrug, he popped the cap free, squirting a little into an open paw. When in Rome, right?

The scent that hit his nose was completely unexpected, as if concentrated pool water had suddenly washed by. An odd mix of chlorinated water, and a strangely plastic smell?

Bleh. Probably why they left this stuff behind. Still, free sunscreen was still sunscreen…

Well. Generally.

Cooper squeezed a little more, rubbing it on his nose and his tummy, trying his best to cover the parts he knew he’d burned on the last time he’d laid out by a pool for a while. It felt nice and cool, almost like aloe, oddly enough. Maybe it had something to do with…

His line of thought, naturally, was interrupted as his paw brushed back over a spot he’d already rubbed the sunscreen into. It was smooth, his pads gliding over it as if he’d run his hand over plastic… and when he looked, he had.

Already, spreading slowly out from the patches he’d applied, his fur had begun to mat down and smooth over, carefully decaling itself into simplified versions of the patterns it was replacing. A chunky seam had begun to work its way up his tummy, the barest first hints of a cute little “do not overinflate” labeled valve beginning to poke out of where his belly button had been just a few minutes earlier.

Cooper, for his part, was beyond bemused. He was looking for a nice day at the pool, and… well, floating in it all day wasn’t a bad way to spend it, he supposed.

Figuring the change might finish a little faster if he rubbed a little more in, Cooper started to squeeze a little more out of the little tube… only for his paws, before his very eyes, to begin to swell, doubling in size as they softened. 

Well. He supposed that was just as well.

With a loud sqrk the ferret’s tail began to inflate, swelling from base to tip like an inflating balloon – and as it did so, Cooper realized just how light he was getting. The pressure from the tail literally lifted him slightly from the chair, and, as he wobbled for a moment in place, he tipped forward!

His paws flew up to catch him, tumbling towards the concrete sides of the pool deck… but he merely lightly bumped against the ground, tight trunks around inflated thighs groaning a little in protest.

His cheeks and face began to swell, softening as their shapes began to simplify from those of a real ferret to a toy one. For a moment, his vision went blurry – but, as it finally corrected a few moments later, Cooper realized the changes had… stopped?

The ferret stood there for a moment, looking himself over – the sunscreen… sure had turned him into an inflatable. Something seemed a little cliche about that.

Oh, well. No better way to spend the day at the pool, right?