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tabbycatplushy · 2 months

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Running Late

Featuring: Paprika, Liz, Bruma

2.1k words

Paprika is running late to an important appointment. When she misses the bus, she needs a transformative potion to get her there on time!

[bat furry tf, shrinking, wardrobe malfunction]

Fuck fuck fuck fuck please fucking be there fuck fuck…

Paprika was sprinting down the sidewalk, now only a block away from the bus stop. It was evening, and the streets were getting busier with people walking home from work. Amber light washed across the city from the west, stretching Paprika’s shadow dozens of feet before her.

The orange tabby weaved through packs of pedestrians, paws slapping pavement. Can’t be late, can’t be late!

Nearing the end of the block, she passed right by the entrance to her apartment building. Twenty floors up, Mocha was probably getting ready for her evening stream while Joule made dinner. Paprika wasn’t heading home, though—she had an appointment to get to.

She turned the last corner, swallowed by the skyscraper’s shadow. She kept running, blinking as her eyes adjusted, then screeched to a halt when she saw the covered bus stop.

The bus was gone. She was too late.

Godsdammit! I should have paid closer attention to the time at the café. I know I lose track of time when I’m writing!

The scent of fabric smoke breached her nose, and she realized she was burning black holes in her clothing. She tiredly tamped the singed materials out with her paws and took deep, calming breaths.

Paprika sighed. There was no point beating herself up over something she couldn’t control. Right now, she had to focus on what she could do.

Mind racing, she tried to come up with a plan. Then it hit her: Lizzie’s shop! It's got to have something!

The tabby ran back, retracing her steps. Just past the double- doored building entrance, a little windowless storefront faced the street.

“THE SHAPE SHOPPE:

ALCHEMICAL PRODUCTS & SERVICES

est. 1924”

Paprika grunted as she pushed through the heavy wooden door. “Liz, I need help!”

Inside was a small waiting room, with antique reclining chairs and light reading material. Opposite the entrance was a counter, where now reclined a silver-scaled dragon.

Well, mostly dragon. A humanoid body supported a long, sinuous neck, which curled around to rest its horned head on the counter. A mane of glossy purple hair ran all the way down the dragon's spine, culminating with a tuft at the tip of its tail. Paprika could see its length, draped across several of the shelves behind the counter.

In short, Liz looked cool as hell today.

It seemed Paprika had caught it napping; padding up to the counter, she rung the bell as gently as she could.

Nictitating lids peeled open behind a mop of purple hair, revealing slitted purple eyes. The dragon smiled its fang-lined maw as it rose up and up and up; its neck was so long that it had to curl around to keep its head from bumping the rafters.

“Ah," said Liz, "my favorite customer. What can I do for you, kitten?”

Paprika blushed at Lizzie's nickname for her. Normally, only Mocha or Joule could call her that and avoid getting socked; Liz was the exception—and it knew that, which meant Paprika got relentlessly teased whenever she came to the shop.

The tabby forgot what she had meant to say; she stuttered for a second, before pulling herself together. “Hi Liz, sorry to wake you. That dragon form looks great on you, by the way!”

The alchemist had a completely different form every time Paprika saw him; a walking advertisement for the shop. “Oh, I know, kitten. Thank you for noticing.” It preened a bit, showing off its luscious mane. Its scales shimmered in the light.

Paprika remembered why she came here in the first place. “I need to get across town in less than half an hour. The bus is gone. Could you give me a rush order? Something with wings? I really need to make it on time!”

“Hmmmm…” the dragon rumbled from its chest, a sound oddly alike to purring. “That’s a tall order. Wings, you say? But I think I have just the thing.”

Liz uncoiled its neck, slithering into the labyrinth of shelves behind the counter. The alchemist's serpentine tail drifted out from the alchemist’s robes, and the purple-tufted tip disappeared around a corner several seconds later than the rest of its body.

Paprika waited patiently, struggling not to tap her foot or check the time. After a moment, Liz’s silver head reappeared, and the rest of it followed soon after.

“Here you go. Should do the trick.” It placed a vial of violet liquid on the counter. “Instant effects. Wings to carry you wherever you need to go. The only thing is that it’s been sitting for a while, so it may not last as long as usual. I give it perhaps… three to four hours.”

Paprika wanted to kiss its scaly mouth, she was so relieved. “Thank you so much, Liz, you’re a lifesaver! How much?”

“For you? No charge. It was a custom order, but they never came to pick it up.” The dragon shrugged. “This way, I know it’s helping someone instead of going bad on the shelf.”

“Liz, you’re the best. Seriously.” Paprika uncorked the vial, tipped it toward the alchemist, and knocked it back.

Liz wasn’t kidding when it said ‘instant effects!’ she thought. Vertigo clouded her senses as she began to shrink. The floor was coming up fast on the tabby, her five-foot-three quickly diminishing. She felt the familiar bittersweet-ache of shifting bones as her skeleton compressed itself down, down and down. By the time her vision stopped swimming, she couldn’t have been more than a foot tall.

Her clothes were piled around her. She looked up, struggling out of her massive shirt. “Liz, you didn’t mention shrinking! How am I gonna go out like this?”

The dragon was leaning over the counter, watching the transformation progress with excitement in its slitted eyes. “I’ll get you some loaners. You look like a…. twenty-one-X small? Perhaps twenty-two. Don’t go anywhere!” The head disappeared as Liz went to look for some clothes.

Meanwhile, Paprika’s fur was darkening. Her orange tabby-coat was gone, faded to a gray so dark it was near black. She grimaced as her tail began shrinking, the nerve endings firing madly as vertebrae dissolved. There was no time to recover from that before a sheer ringing, keener than usual, overwhelmed her hearing as her triangular ears stretched out, growing bigger and far more sensitive.

Paprika reached up to feel her new ears, running her fingers along their edges. As she explored her changes, her snout lengthened, the pink tip of her nose growing into an angular point that stuck straight upwards.

She felt a stretching sensation in the skin of her lower back and armpits as thin, leathery skin formed into two hairless flaps. Her pinky fingers bent sideways, extending into long appendages that marked the outer boundaries of her growing wings. Luckily she still had full use of her hands, only a finger short.

The changes seemed to be mostly finished. Paprika walked to the floor-to ceiling mirror against the wall, and took herself in.

Alright, she thought, mostly the same as before, just with a pallet swap and some extra mobility. She extended her right arm, pulling the wing-flap taut, and moved her long pinky up and down. Her wing got tighter or looser at different positions.

Tabling that for now, she took a closer look at her face. It wasn’t just the nose that had changed; her eyes had gotten bigger in proportion to her head. But don’t bats have small eyes? I suppose I should be glad I’m not blind now. But I have to admit, it’s a cute look. She brought her hands up to her nose, feeling the shape of it.

Alright, let’s test out these… flappers? I’ll just stick to 'wings.'

Sticking out both arms, she fully extended her wings and brought them down as hard as she could. Air caught in the flaps, launching her upward with more force than she was expecting.

It was way too much—the air blew strongly against her wings, folding in her pinkies. She lost control, tumbling over herself mid-air.

She landed with an OOF on the counter top.

The little batgirl dizzily stood up, dusting herself off. Okay, second time’s the charm.

Paprika spent the next few minutes acclimating herself to her new body, and figuring out the mechanics of flying. By the time she heard the rumbling of Liz returning to the front, she had gotten enough of the basics to be fairly confident she could fly to her destination.

While Paprika practiced hovering in the air, the draconic alchemist reached the counter, a smile on its lips. Suddenly, Paprika was all too aware that she was entirely naked. She fell back to the counter, quickly covering herself up behind her wings.

Liz let out a rumbling chuckle. “Don’t worry, little kitten, nothing I haven’t seen before.” It placed a bundle of cloth on the countertop. “Here, this should fit you well.”

It was some kind of romper, stitched out of orange and red fabric. The stitching looked a little big to her, but it was actually tiny; Paprika had no idea how the alchemist had managed to make it so small. Blushing, she turned away from the looming dragon, pulling it on.

It fits really well—Liz knows its stuff! The sides were entirely open, allowing space for her wings. It covered all the important stuff. And, most important, it looked really cute on her.

“This is great, Liz, fits like a glove!” She was turning in front of the mirror, checking the outfit from every angle.

“I thought so. It looks good on you, little one. Long as you don’t mind going commando for the evening.”

“I think I’m small enough no one will notice. Or care.” She turned back towards the alchemist. Lizzie’s form towered over her. Paprika approached its hands, draconic claws folded over one another, and wrapped her arms around one finger. She nuzzled her cheek against a scaly knuckle. “Thank you, Liz. Really.”

Paprika looked up, seeing a toothy grin splitting silver-scaled cheeks. "Of course, kitten. Now go, before you're late!"

With one last nuzzle, she pulled away and stood up. “Yeah, I’ve really got to get going now. But I think I can do it!” She flapped her wings, hovering right over the counter. “Can you open the door for me? I could barely move it at full size!”

The dragon snaked over the counter top, then held open the heavy door. “Have fun! I’ll send your clothes up to your apartment!” it called out, as Paprika winged overhead.

***

Flying was exhausting, as it turned out. If this romper wasn’t so light, I probably would've soaked it through with sweat.

She landed panting right outside the bar. Waiting for someone else to go in, the batgirl slipped inside behind them, landing on a table by the door.

She checked the clock. 6:28! I made it! She could have jumped for joy if she weren't so tired. Scanning the room for her friend, she spotted a flash of gray fur hunched over a guitar. She fluttered over while he tuned his instrument.

“Bruma! Bru! Over here!” Pointed ears perked up, and the wolf’s head swiveled in Paprika’s direction. His head tilted in confusion. Paprika landed on the table in front of him.

Recognition dawned in his yellow eyes. “Ricky? Is that you?”

Paprika made a little curtsy, smiling at her old nickname. “In the flesh. Thought I’d change up my look!”

Bruma still wore his work clothes: patched gray jeans and a white tank with dark oil stains here and there. A flannel hung on his broad shoulders. His keys hung from a carabiner on his belt loop. He looked every bit the stereotypical butch.

He nodded, looking her up and down. “This is a great look. Look at your little nose," he said, sticking out one finger to boop it. "I love it.”

Paprika blushed; Bru always had the best compliments. "The nose is alright, but you should try flying some time!"

"No way, I'm not built for air travel. I'd just throw up everywhere. It'd be ugly." He patted her little head. “Thanks for coming, Ricky. I’m really glad you’re here for this.”

“Absolutely nothing could've stopped me from coming tonight, Bru,” Paprika smiled.

A little bleep trilled from his watch. “Aight, it’s time for me to go up. Wish me luck cat-bat!”

He held out a fist half as tall as Paprika, and she bumped it with her own tiny paw. Bru stepped onto the little stage in the corner of the bar, and began playing.

***

Paprika sat back and listened to the tunes strummed by Bruma's deft pick, coming down from the exertion of her frantic flight. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it as well, judging by their quieted voices and tapping feet.

The sound of ripping fabric broke the air, carried by the relative quiet of the taproom as Bruma abruptly stopped playing. Suddenly overcome with vertigo, vision swimming with colors and shapes, Paprika blinked her vision clear to find that she was suddenly much higher than she had been a second ago. The people at the table next to her were blushing, looking pointedly into their drinks. Her blood ran cold. Oh no, nononononono...

She looked down, and saw orange and white fur, bare to the world, her little red romper ripped in two on her lap. Two hours! You said two hours, Liz!

Bruma set down his guitar, his chair scraping the stage floor as he hurried back to Paprika's table. Pulling off his flannel, he wrapped it around her frozen form. "Always an interesting time with you around, Ricky," he whispered.

Face burning, streamers of smoke began to rise from the table where she sat, her legs burning into the wood. She gladly took the flannel, covered herself up, hunched over herself in an attempt to get small once more.

#writeblr #trans writer #furry #transfur #shrinking #fursona #paprika #liz #bruma #meow #squeak #tf #my lit #fluff #dragon

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