the adventures of these fuckos is rife with sadness and happiness
Each pov is written by a diffrent person
made in collaboration with the Arthurs Roundest Table discord
hope you enjoy
summary: Tiffany Serena Lavarie goes about her average day with Pixie, her Fennekin. It's just a normal day, filled with hope and coffee. All a girl needs, really.
AN: My chapter now bitches enjoy my super happy character while she lasts
I sit up in bed and stretch, my hand reaching for the cardigan next to my bed before my eyes even open. As usual, I'm met with a fair bit of resistance, and I pretty much fall out of bed. With a heavy sigh, I open my eyes properly.
"Good morning, Pixie," I whisper to the Fennekin curled up on my favorite purple cardigan - the one with the mushrooms on it. She trills in response, and I reach up to scratch her ears. She instantly plops her entire head into my head, really leaning into the scritches. I may have made an ill-advised move with the fire starter, what with the pyrophobia and all, but boy do I not regret it.
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After a solid minute of ear scritches, I pat her on the head twice.
"Come on, honey, I gotta get up and get ready for the day," I murmur. Pixie makes what I can only assume is an irritated noise in response, but at least she gets off my cardigan. And it only smells slightly burnt! That's a win in my book. I quickly change into something presentable (and very, very fluffy), throw my cardigan on, and grab my hairbrush so I can brush my hair as I walk.
"Alright, Pixie, we're going to go get me a coffee, and then I'll take you somewhere to let out some of that energy, okay?" I ask, running my brush through my waist-length purple hair (and nearly breaking my arm in the process).
Pixie trills and jumps onto the arm not holding a hairbrush in a smooth, practiced motion. Of course, years of contest training will make every motion smooth and graceful, even tripping. Which was definitely something I did, and often. But with Pixie and our buttload of training, I had learned to turn even the most inelegant of trips into a flawless save.
"Morning, Tiffany," the shopkeep at the coffee shop beams as I approach.
"Good morning, Meli," I reply. "My usual please."
"And for little Pixie there?" they ask.
"Fenne, fennekin," Pixie trills, getting on her hind legs and wagging her tail. They laugh.
"Alright then, one black coffee and one everything bagel sandwich for Tiffany, and one Lava Cookie for Pixie." The shopkeep holds my bag out to me and the cookie out to Pixie, who places her paws on my head, reaches across, and grabs the cookie from their hands. As Pixie loudly munches on her cookie, I grab my wallet and pay as quickly as possible, mouthing my thanks despite the Pokemon on my head eating her morning treat.
Chugging my coffee in a desperate and ultimately misguided attempt to actually finish it in a reasonable time frame, I jog to the park where Pixie and I spend the most time practicing. As usual, I scald my throat on the coffee and end up with Pixie guarding me as I cough violently into the nearest bush.
