Yall I think I may have been cursed by a very muscular cat that lives outside
???
Okay I’m gonna tell yall the Legend of Buff Cat™
So we take care of a family of cats that live on our back porch basically. There’s Cat Stevens the mom, her four kittens, and Joe, a grey kitty that hangs out with them. We put food and water out every day and they come out and hang around and lounge and play and shit.
There’s a few other stray kitties that come in and bully them to get to the food. Big Head Cat, Tiger Kitty and Buff Cat. Buff Cat is the most RIPPED cat I have EVER seen. He’s all black and he has like a tiny white patch of fur on his chest. I only ever saw him ONCE until the other night when I heard cats fighting outside. Thinking it was my cat being a dick, I went to break it up, but he was upstairs and no where near the other cats. So I went downstairs and Buff Cat was there, by himself, sitting on top of the wooden fence and staring me down. It was creepy as SHIT. Like this cat has an ENERGY about him.
A few days after this incident my dad tells me he has a dream about my cat getting outside and then he looks out there and FUCKING SEES BUFF CAT STARING AT HIM. He has only seen this cat ONCE.
Anyways I go downstairs to get ready to walk to work at 7AM and I see him, again, just STARING at me, and manage to get a picture:
I swear to god I took this picture, BLINKED and he was gone. Like, looking at this picture makes me feel super wrong. I showed it to a friend and they told me I shouldn’t take pictures of Eldritch Beings.
So I JUST get finished telling this story to my good friends @maris-solstice and @foxcoloredcat and I decide I want to get a snack, so I walk downstairs and
THERE HE IS AGAIN IN THE SAME POSITION, STARING RIGHT AT ME. YOU’D THINK IT’S THE SAME PICTURE BUT THESE WERE, IN FACT, TAKEN 11 HOURS APART.
So there’s the story of how I am now cursed by a cat that is probably a demon or was probably at one time a person that was turned into a cat.
Oh my god thats so weird!
That reminds me of a cat i called Atilla the Hun who was a big mf and would linger by the pool during winter. He had like a mane of beige fluff around his neck
OP it sounds like you have a fairy.
The Cat Sìth (Scottish Gaelic: [kʰaht̪ ˈʃiː]) or Cat Sidhe (Irish: [kat̪ˠ ˈʃiː], Cat Sí in new orthography) is a fairy creature from Celtic mythology, said to resemble a large black cat with a white spot on its chest.
Cafés don’t have clocks because they are timeless places
there’s a cafe in my town called time and it has clocks all over the walls, but none of them are the same or the right time, so like, #confirmed
That café is the entry to the faery world sorry I don’t make the rules
“Do not eat or drink fairy food.”
“I know… but have you tried their lattes?”
okay but the whole thing about not accepting fairy food or drink is that they give it to you and you then owe them something for it
so like, if it’s a normal cafe and you pay for your coffee & muffin you’d technically be okay since you paid them
so what I’m saying is, fairies starting coffee shops because it’s actually pretty profitable and more interesting than just waiting for humans to stumble into fairy circles
Some Fair Folk Cafe’s are fine, you go in, pay for your food, and if you leave wanting to go back that’s normal. These guys want you returning, they like humans, want to watch them and interact with them and learn about them.
Some, less so. You feel an urge, an itch under your skin to take more than you paid for. “We can upgrade you for free, if you’d like!” The cashier says. There’s something a little off in her smile. Sharp teeth are uncanny at this angle, you think. You shake your head, refusing politely.
“Samples, take one!” The person stocking the cabinet says, holding out a plate of small pieces of cake. They don’t say free, they don’t say what they cost. You know better than to take them at the implied meaning. Fair Folk don’t do ‘implied’.
“I just ate, but thank you,” you reply gracefully. The smile fades, sharp teeth hidden, before it widens again.
“Next time then,” they say, and you feel the promise brushing over your skin.
“Maybe,” you reply, still smiling. You know better than to agree with one of the Fair Folk. Words have weight after all, and none more than the echo of a promise to one of The People.
I’d be screwed. I love free samples.
But that’s where they get you – they never say it’s free.
When I was a very small child, my mom used to bury coins in my sandbox, leave huge boot prints in the sand, and tell me pirates had come in the night and buried treasure. I would be out there happily for hours, with my little sieve, and my mom got a quiet morning to herself for the price of a handful of pennies.
I was always kind of skeptical about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy, because visiting every kid in the world did not seem reasonable. But the pirates only visited me, so they were probably real.
So that’s the story of how I ended up being an archaeologist. How about you?
about aged 5&7, my sister and i received a book about garden fairies and proceeded to spend the entire summer season writing little notes to the fairies and then tromping out into the garden to hide them in the garden.
after we’d gone to bed, my mom would tromp outside to figure out where her two daughters has hidden those letters (and, let me tell you, we were creative, because what if someone other than the fairies found them????). then, on fancy, very tiny stationary would pen marvellous responses about what the fairies had been up to, and would go back outside to switch out our letter for her own.
all said, we probably wrote over 20 letters, and mom answered every single one.
Steel Phoenix Studios 