FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

It has been a while since I have wrote, I know that. But... you can't blame me, right? You know what I go through. All the issues towering around me in everyday life. I mean, I can't subject myself to writing to you everyday. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy writing and hearing from you... but... it's hard."

Pen and paper was an easier approach to long distance relationships and much more romantic, or so Maki thought. The otter was more than capable of texting his significant other or even messaging him on one of the many social medias that they both use. However, he kept finding himself writing random words and numbers, maybe the occasional squiggle outside the margins, in hopes something would come to him.

Maki knew he wasn't the Picasso with words, but he liked to think he could add some romantic flair with his crude sense of humor in his writing. Also, he liked the chance to practice his penmanship. For years he had been told that his writing was so bad they were surprised that he wasn't born a chicken... because chickens apparently have terrible handwriting. The otter didn't understand those choice of words, he had never seen a chicken's handwriting and wasn't quite sure he ever would.

With lower lip bit and pen hitting his desk, the otter thought of what he should say next. A teeny chip of wood stain seemed to be rubbing off from the pen tapping with how long the otter spent reading those first few lines over and over again, sometimes verbally and sometimes it would turn into him pacing around the room letting his arms out in the air for some poetic spiritualism... but nothing came to him. He growled lowly as he tugged at his headfur, thinking... just thinking. His mind was racing but his heart seemed to be the chill roommate that reminded him to not get too worked up. After all, he was still in recovery.

He barely listened to the doctor as he sat in the hospital bed. Maki could only focus on two words: Heart and Disease. The doctors weren't sure what caused it because from their view the otter seemed to be in prime condition... except for a few misguided genes that remained hidden from his father's side. His dad might have let the information of heart conditions being a common root of problems in his family slip, he just happened to be lucky that it skipped him. Yeah, lucky him, Maki thought at the time, and still thought.

Regardless of the bad stroke of genes, the young fur couldn't stay mad at his father forever could he? Of course not. But he sure as shit could be sour about the disability of having to keep calm and not do any strenuous activity for the rest of his life. Maki could easily strike Olympic-Anything off his list of potential job careers, and any other things he felt might cause him to have another heart attack and end back up in the hospital.

The doctors even recommend he quit his current part-time job of being a neighborhood lawn mower and yard work. Of course, those white coats said those words with such casual of a tone that they might have just rolled their hands to add that lasting bit of snideness. Maki preferred to call it manual labor... it made it sound cooler and like he had an actual job versus controlling a push-mower that seemed to die on him all the time and chug gas like a frat boy would with beer.

Nevertheless, the remincision of his newly found problem helped him not in finding the next few words he needed to complete his letter. If anything it just aggravated him further to the point he was ready to throw the pen down and go to bed, even if it was only four in the afternoon.

Maki had never met George in real life or even seen what he looked like. Even though the "stud-muffin" wolf was on all sorts of social medias, he never had a single picture of what he looked like or helped elaborate what his real name was. The otter refused to believe his boyfriend's name was Main Weeks... There was no way that was what his parents had named him. So, Maki called him George.

Occasionally the otter would ask for a picture of him in hopes to solidify the image in his head. However, the romanticizing-spiritual ass would always respond with how beauty is only skin deep and that the otter should trust his "stud-muffin" more or else he will get punished. The wolf always had that kind of attitude of a guy who tries too hard to be sexy and is in all actuality making up for his lacking looks with "sexual retorts", as the otter called them. Maki wasn't too sure why he kept this one-sided relationship with him, one-sided because the wolf seemed to only like him because he knew what the otter looked like and knew he would be the bottom bitch when it came to sexual roleplays.

The otter guessed he dated the wolf because he asked and he kindly enjoyed the roleplays they shared. Also, when the wolf wasn't too busy bragging about himself or wanting the otter to metaphorically raise tail, he seemed to be very educated and capable of holding a steady conversation. This double-edged sword wasn't healthy for the otter, but he had no better offers or even chances for that matter. When George asked, he, nonchalantly, agreed to it and began writing letters to an address that was two hours away according to the map on his phone.

The thought of driving there one day was a definite possibility in hopes of finally meeting his long-winded pen pal/virtual lover. Then there was the significant lack of a car in his possession. The sorrows of a senior in highschool...

Letting out another frustrated sigh, the otter leaned back in his chair and swiveled idly in the same spot in such slow rotation it felt like he was watching a poorly done frame by frame motion-picture movie. "Can I come in?" Asked a feminine voice with the subtle double knock that wasn't so subtle but meek.

"Sure." Maki answered, still slowly turning towards the door. His mother walked in on the most glorious moment as her son somehow perfectly timed this most unplanned event in which his chair stopped turning just at the right angle that he was facing his mother. This most odd happenstance seemed to unphase the female otter, but it might have been half apathy and half because she had something else she wanted to bring up.

"Mrs. Waters wanted me to tell you that she hopes you feel better and is wondering when you might, just so happen, retrieve the push mower in her yard."

"Mrs. Waters... the arch-enemy of all neighborhood boys who mow their neighbor's yard for the measly cost of 'Might As Well Be Free Because Gas Is Too Damn High' because of her insociable nature and being incapable of coming into contact with anything the coyote deemed filthy. She was always hanging by a thread between the line dividing rarely and never when it came to giving free water, let alone lemonade and free cake like most other middle-aged women." Maki's mini-rant inside his head caused him to roll his eyes. But, at the same time, he couldn't help but grow an evil curl around the corner of his lip at the thought of her screaming in horror at the otter nearly killing over in her front yard and being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

"Well, mother-dearest, I would much like to retrieve said push mower off Mrs. Waters' yard but the doctor explicitly told me to do no activity that could be considered strenuous. And, I have this sinking feeling in my gut-"

"Cut the smartass routine, are you going to get it or not?" Maki always knew better than to play the sarcastic route with his mother, but he couldn't help that her way of holding her paws on her hips and letting her face scream out all of her frustration with pure facial control amused the recently hospitalized otter.

"I'll be sure to get it right after I finish this letter, okay mom?" His mother once more showed off her extreme facial control abilities by having the most impeccable look of curiosity at the mention of letter. She had caught him putting them into the mailbox every now and again but whenever she asked him about them, Maki always gave the same response: It's for a penpal. And this was her ultimate chance to finally see what her son was writing to said "penpal"!

"Hmm, okay sweetie." And her chance was lost. Maki was sure she would ask him what he was writing about, but apparently she lacked enough interest to pique a question. This left Maki looking at his, now closing, door with mouth ajar and wondering what happened to his mother. But, she had been a rollercoaster of interests lately: One day picking up tennis, another giving up tennis to pursue knitting, only to give that up for something else, and etcetera.

"Um, where was I?" Maki looked back at the letter, reading those first few lines again while he clicked his tongue in hopes it would light a bulb in his head; but, instead, all the clicking did was short-circuit his attention and he decided he would just go get the mower now.

Shuffling through the house and down the stairs, to the front door and ready to make his official appearance to the outside world since he was released from the hospital, Maki turned the doorknob. But, his mom pinched his ears with the words: Don't forget your shoes. Of course, those dastardly bastards always seemed to get in the way with his webbed feet and make them smell ten times worse once freed from their leather, well, at least Maki thought they were some kind of leather, prison. Then again, there was always the plus they prevented his sensitive feet from getting blistered. He visibly weighed the pros and cons in his head, hissing slightly, but as if by clockwork he took the shoes. His mother's wrath was not something to be trifled with, even more so with blistered feet.

Mrs. Waters' residence was three houses down and it was unique in the sense it was the only home up towards the corner of the street that had a half-mown yard... However, Maki's home was the fourth one down the road so she didn't exactly have competition with neighbor's with yards not cut and the fact she lived on the corner didn't help her case. She openly got to show off the unfinished job to anyone driving by that cared enough to look.

Mimicking his movement in the halls of his home, Maki shuffled onwards toward the yard of the awaiting Mrs. Waters. No one knew if there was a Mr. Waters. But it was assumed so because of her son that was the same age as the otter. Then again, there had been a lot of talk that she killed him but others would counter with how it would have been too dirty a job for her to do. Everyone knew she was a neat freak, which made some assume she just offed him quick and clean. Like, cutting brake wires or something. Maki heard a lot of gossip over the sound of the tiny motor in the mower he slaved many days behind in sweltering heat... which did little to help his feet stink!

"Honestly, forget the alleged Mr. Waters, this poor otter mowing your lawns needs help with the pestilent reek of sweat and grime, more so in the feet area, but still!" That thought always seemed to run through the otter's head at the mere mention of Mrs. Waters and marriage crisis.

Before he could think of that plead for help once more, he was already toe-to-toe with his push mower. He let out a low whistle that resembled the music that played when two cowboys faced each other with squinted eyes, itching to pull the trigger. Placing his paw to his hip, he wiggled his fingers in the motion of reaching for a handcannon, ready to blow a hole in the enemy before him only to have a shrill voice break the tune just before it ended.

"Here to get your machine, I see!" There was a southern drawl in that speech somewhere, but the otter couldn't pinpoint it with supreme accuracy. His ears just burned at the sound of it, telling him that Mrs. Waters had to be southern, she just had to. His ears told him so!

"Yeah, here's to me making it home without another heart attack!" Maki chuckled but the coyote grimaced and shook her head in the way that told him it wasn't funny. Still, the otter was amused and waved good-bye to the suspected husband killer as he left her yard in its half-mown state. Just like the trip there, the trip back was short and sweet. Maki still didn't half enough time to finish humming a song before he got home. He couldn't remember the song's name but could swear the lyrics were about kissing a girl and liking it. The irony of a gay otter humming such a song did not escape him, it still tickled his inner bits.

With a few quick jerks and shoves, Maki got the lawn mower to settle down inside the garage where it was suppose to. He had never understood why it needed to be placed where it was, but it was something his father always told him whenever he didn't put it there... so he just got used to putting the contraption in the agonizing spot.

"I'm back!" Maki called out to his home. Kicking off his shoes, the otter flinched suddenly. He wasn't quite prepared for the smell, or lack of. He flexed his toes, giving a huh? in surprise, before making a b-line to his bedroom and back two his swiveling chair. The otter knew he was a bit childish when it came to his chair and its swivel-ness, but he didn't care.

Maki swayed side to side as he booted up his desktop. His peripheral vision could not help but catch wind of a piece of paper and pen lying nearby. Grunting in discomfort, as if his heart kicked playfully as to tease him about its condition; but, rather, the discomfort was from remembering the letter to George. He still had not the foggiest idea of what to say next. I love you? No, that was a tad childish and irrational. He couldn't follow up those words of how hard it was to write someone and then tell them you love them... could you? Maki kind of thought those words might come off wrong if read a certain way but would those few words actually help? If anything, it might make him seem guilty.

"Gah!!!" Screamed the otter, pulling at his headfur once more. This seemed to become his set route for solving his "romantic-letter-writing" problem. Write a few lines, wonder what to write next, do something else, and then scream in frustration with the result of his mom checking in on him.

However, this time, his mother did not come knocking on his door before abruptly coming in or calling out to make sure he was okay. There was silence after the cry. Maybe there really was something wrong with his mother, but he casually brushed those thoughts off his shoulder. After all, he needed his full attention for the job at hand: Getting George's letter finished!

Tap tap tap went the keyboard as the young otter found himself mindlessly browsing the internet for slightly amusing photos and snips of videos that made him grin. Perhaps a chuckle would escape here and there, but such mindless entertainment would not get such a huge rise from Maki. He was much too mature for that.

Maki continued reading captions on photos and watching the wild videos for a while longer, still idly swiveling in his chair, when a sudden beeping-blooping sound aroused his attention. The highlighted and bold letters MW appeared on the bottom corner of his screen with the number one accompanying them. The instant messenger was quite the noise maker. Just before he could click the message open another bleep and bloop filled his ears. The number one changed to two and Maki opened it only to be rewarded with a toothy grin on his face.

MW: yo

MW: dtf?

* * *

It has been quite a while since I have posted anything. I was in the mood to write yesterday and planned to make this a one shot story... but then I got the feeling if I wrote it all in one go I would be unable to take it at a reasonable pace. Therefore, this will probably just be four or five chapters following this story-line. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it and look forward to the next post. (Also, SF seems to like messing around with my submissions every time I try to edit them so they don't look all wonky... only to get more wonky-ness. Maybe I'm missing some super secret trick.)