#meow shut up challenge

[meowloudly15]

I would bet actual money that they deliberately designed the frogs so you couldn't play Megalovania on them

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

i think about this often what did this mean

[archive-cat]

Frequency that burns straight through your brain killing you instantly

[vaxyl]

SOON

Can't wait to force Vax through another traumatic story full of love, betrayal, magic, bloodshed, overcoming evil, and repeated agonising death & eventual resurrection because I really suck at videogames.

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Good Morning, Mr Reid... - Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

Summary / Prompt - When you wake up sweet Spencer with your wet dream, he can’t help but need to make your dreams a reality.

Warnings / Content - smutty smut smut lmao, being woken up by sexy times but that’s about it I think? (Nope also piv unprotected and nutting inside, I'm shit at proofreading the first time >_<)

Word Count - 900-ish

Author’s Note(s) - Bit shorter than my usual but this idea popped into my head and I wanted to try writing from Spence’s pov so here this is! Hopefully my fellow Horny-For-Reid girlies enjoy~

Additional Tags - Spencer is needy for you, smart boy is dumb for the meow-meow, consent is STILL IMPORTANT BABES

Spencer Reid was no stranger to being woken up by a myriad of things - his job was usually the top culprit. But this morning, it was you that pulled his focus into being. At first, he thought something might be wrong from the noises you were making. But after a moment of watching you, clearing his sleep-bleary eyes, he realized that was hardly the case.

“Spence…” It was a breathy sigh, almost tricking him into thinking you were awake. Were you? No, he decided; Apart from the fact that your breathing was more suited for someone in the throes of unconsciousness, your eyes were shut and you didn’t respond when he softly murmured your name. Dreaming, then.

About him, from the continued speaking of his name. It was a crime, really, to look that pretty when you weren’t even aware of it. Spencer was just enthralled with watching the way your face scrunched, he almost missed the way your hands were moving down to- oh. It was that kind of dream, then.

His eyes widened, already feeling the familiar tension of his cock straining against his boxers as you touched yourself, so unaware and still so pretty. Your voice a whine, begging him, please Spence please - he could think of nothing he wanted more than to give you whatever you wanted. You’d talked before about this sort of thing - it had never come about, until now. Waking you up with his touch, his cock to fill you up as the first thing you felt during the day.

He’d been cautious, as consent was a serious subject - but you’d assured him that, if ever there were a time that it called to him, he was more than welcome to do so. He was grateful for his eidetic memory, the echoing of those words in his mind now to settle where this was going.

But he wanted to watch a little longer, whether that was selfish or not, he didn’t know- and didn’t really care. Seeing your chest rise and fall while you messed with your bundle of nerves, still quietly begging him for something, anything, was enough to spur him into reaching for himself. The slow pumping of his fist and the sight before him pulled a low groan from Spencer; he tried to keep quiet, but it was a challenge. With you in front of him, doing that…really, could you blame him?

“Baby…” He sighed, eyes darting between your face and your hands, to the thin fabrics that kept you from him, for now. “Wanna be inside you. Can I be inside you?”

Your eyes fluttered a bit, but nothing more in response. Spencer was almost desperate, he needed to feel you wrap around him, so tight and warm-

“Baby,” He tried again, more of a whine than anything else. His free hand pulled you closer, nuzzling his face into the soft skin of your neck. “I need you, need you so bad-“

“Mmm…Spence…”

He rutted up against you; the brushing of your wetness against him, coupled with the way your arms instinctively moved to wrap around him, just made him need it even more. His hands slid your panties to the side, far too dire of a need to even bother with removing them completely. He took a moment to line himself up and pushed into you, letting out a deep moan that lilted into your name at the end.

“Fuck, so tight, baby,” He groaned, kissing your neck. He felt you rustle beneath him, a little groan escaping you.

“Morning to you, too,” You murmured back, a small laugh caught up in the way he felt pressing against your walls. “Thought I was dreaming there for second.”

“For a second, you were.” He amended, pulling back to give you a kiss. “I thought this could be a perfect time to test out that idea you had.”

“I’m certainly not complaining,” You gripped his shoulders as he thrusted deeper, earning noises from the both of you. “Couldn’t even wait long enough to get me naked, huh?”

Your teasing made him flush. “I- well, I just-“

“IQ of 187, and it all folds and disappears for me.” You smirked, and were quickly distracted again once he pushed further inside of you. “Fuck, Spence-“

“Not just me, huh?” He huffed, lifting your leg up to hit further back. “Not my fault you’re so pretty, I just wanna fill you up.”

“Please, do.”

“Say it for me.”

“Please, Spence, fill me up,” You cried out as he hit the spongy spot in tandem with rubbing against your clit, just how he knew you liked. “Fuck, I want you to cum in me, please-“

“Wanna see you cum first,” He groaned, rolling you over so he could lift both your legs to his shoulders. His own orgasm was impending, threatening to spill over, but he needed it to be you first.

“Don’t stop, Spence-“ Your nails dug crescents into his back before falling to the sheets, white knuckled as you told him, “Just a few more- I’m so close, I’m so-oh!”

Your release triggered Spencer’s own, no more willpower to hold back from it once he felt you shake and tighten around him. “Fuck,” he whimpered, “Me too, baby, me too,” and with your gentle praises he spilled over into you with a deeply pleasured moan.

You laid there together for a bit, not bothering to detach from one another until Spencer mentioned the need for cleaning you up.

“Well, are we going to shower, or are we going to fuck in the shower?” You smirked.

He was already getting hard again at the thought.

[tomieafterdark]

Catboy Eren drabble

cw: afab!reader, dom!eren, 18+ dni if u are a minor

I am gonna be honest, this is so unserious I don't know what possessed me to actually write it and hit poster prob should have stayed in the drafts. Anyways, it is inspired by the same person that inspired this fic because he has a catlike aura.

not proofread also click here for more content

You always thought Eren had this "grumpy cat" aura to him, and you never stopped reminding him about it. In fact, you had tried to make him say "meow" or use a catboy image as his profile picture several times, but all you were met with was him ignoring it or telling you it will never happen.

Everything he said seemed to go in one ear and out of the other, because one day when hanging out with him you decided it would be a good idea to bring cat ears and try to put them on him.

And you did. Eventually.

As if his death glare had not been enough, you just had to blurt out that he looks like a submissive catboy. 

And that is how you ended up in this lovely situation.

"E-eren slow down!" You whined.

"Shut the fuck up." he hissed in irritation, pushing your head further down into the pillow. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eren was stretching you open more and more with every thrust, as if the position he had you in wasn’t painful enough he went in with almost no prep. Adjusting to his size was quite the challenge.

He loved watching your hole swallow his cock whole, but what he loved even more was the way you reacted to how deep he went inside of you. He could tell that none of your previous sexual partners had ever touched your cervix with their tip, nor had they stretched you so good that it feels like your first time all over again. 

He kept his eyes locked on you as he fastened his pace. Your whimpering grew louder and clearer even though your face was buried in the pillow, your cries were actual music to his ears. He needed to hear them more clearly. 

He suddenly slips it out, you are too fucked out to notice it at first, still arching. But next thing you know he is sitting next to you on the bed and leaning against the headboard. 

“Get up y/n, I want you on top.” He commands coldly, his intimidating gaze not leaving you for a second.

You get up slowly, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure between your legs. You suddenly notice he forgot to take off the cat ears you had put on him earlier, it is very hard to not giggle but you manage to somehow muster up enough self control to keep quiet. You slowly move over to him, it is impossible to not stare at his face because of the cat ears. He looks so good with them on, and surprisingly not submissive. However the “grumpy cat” energy remains, and he looks even more annoyed now because you are taking way too long getting on top of him. Somehow he comes to the conclusion that you are being nervous because of his size but you are just in awe of how good he looks with cat ears on, you haven’t even glanced at his dick yet. 

“Y/n, if you are scared of the size just say that. I can assist.” He mutters, seeming less annoyed and almost concerned now. 

“Huh?” You look at him in confusion, but the dots soon connect. You are about to protest, but the way he suddenly became all attentive and kind of careful made you feel some type of way and you don't mind this going on for a bit longer. 

He starts fingering you and the sudden intrusion makes you hiss but he quickly shuts you up with a kiss. You manage to take a quick glance at his cock amidst all the kissing and moaning and you feel the knot in your stomach. It is a strange mix of fear, excitement and doom. How would all that fit inside you? 

All the mixed emotions and his skilled fingers bring you closer and closer to climax, he is aware of it by the way you are squeezing around his fingers and moaning louder and louder into the kiss. He stops right before you cum, you feel so close and you are so desperate that without even thinking, you quickly bring your left hand between your legs. 

“Not so fast.” Your wrist is suddenly burning from the iron grip he has on it and the more you pull away the harder he grips. You whine and pout in frustration, not even looking at him directly and still looking for a way to reach your high. You are really starting to lose patience. 

He grabs your lower face, making you look up at him. “If you want to cum, you will do it on my cock. Got it?” His stern voice and cold stare anchor you back to reality, and all you can do is nod. 

He doesn't waste another second, grabbing you by the waist making you straddle him. You instinctively hold on to him, and he does the same to you, just he does it for a completely different reason. You held on to his shoulders because a part of you feels safe around him, while he grabbed your hips out of impatience and to teach you a lesson for putting cat ears on him. 

You try to wriggle yourself out of his tight grip a bit, usually when you are on top like this you are the one controlling the pace and taking on a more dominant role but this is nothing like that. Instead, he slowly lowers you down on it and you gasp hard even though only the tip is in. 

Truth be told, he is resisting the urge to slam you down on it and teach you a very hard lesson, but ever since he noticed you have not had anyone his size before he has been taking his time with you. No, not because he cares, he just thinks your reactions are hilarious. You went from “annoying and cocky asking him to meow for you” to “crying little mess that does not know what to do with herself every time he thrusts” very quickly.  

He watches you intensely, you avoid looking into his eyes, it makes you feel like prey and as if his darkness is about to eat you alive even though he still has the cat ears on. The more he lowers you down on his cock, the more you are starting to believe you will feel it in your guts. He lowers you down very slowly and it gives a whole new meaning to “feeling every inch of him”. 

Your mind is going a bit blank, all you can repeat is “it is so big” and “I feel so full” inside your head. On the outside you are just biting your cheek trying to not burst out in tears like you did earlier. It feels different when your face is not in the pillow, hiding from his cold sharp gaze. This has you feeling new depths of submissiveness and being vulnerable. Though he can kind of notice you are trying your hardest to keep it cool but that is nothing but a challenge to him. This makes him want to break you more. 

You let out a yelp, because he suddenly slams you down on it with no warning and does not stop thrusting even for a second. You are not looking at him directly but you can tell he is smirking at the way you are struggling to keep it together. 

“You were doing a good job trying to keep it together, but you have to try harder to fool me.” He whispers into your ear as one of his hands starts to caress hair. The contrast of his soft demeanor while caressing your hair and his rough thrusts that have your legs almost shaking has your mind going hazy. “I will break you either way, you might as well give in to make this easier for yourself..” he continues in his dark husky voice as his hand leaves your hair now, traveling further down caressing your clit instead. 

It does not take a lot of movement to make you come undone. All that pent up energy from earlier was just waiting to be released, hanging on by a thread. The higher you feel the lower you will come down, and right now you are not just seeing stars you are seeing other galaxies. He grins as he watches you come. Your beautiful eyes are finally letting those tears out, and this time he can look into them since there is no pillow to shove your head in. 

You feel so drained from that one orgasm, you end up just laying down for what feels like several long minutes. This low really matched the high. 

Suddenly he climbs on top of you, his eyes even more dark and playful now. Before you can even react he, flips you on your stomach.

“Wha-” you blurt out. 

“Who said I was done teaching you a lesson? I was going easy on you earlier..” He snickered as he spreads your cheeks apart. 

 © 2024 tomieafterdark | All rights reserved

[happy74827]

Pst! Might be a fun lil challenge if you ever want to work on something like this....

Mike Schmidt adopts a stray cat but it's from the cats point of view.

Okay this one got me LMFAO. I won’t necessarily call this a “oneshot,” but I had to write something with this iconic request. Thank you so much for this anon, it made my day.

『••✎••』

You were a small thing, grey and white, with long fur and eyes that were almost unnaturally large. You sat there quietly, watching the people in the shelter walk past and occasionally licking your paw and brushing it against your face. You were not like the other cats, who were loud and energetic and climbed on everything. You were reserved and seemed almost disinterested.

That is until your eye caught Mike.

Then you sat up and watched him, not making a noise but staring at him. And when Mike stared back, you looked away, and then you looked back, and the look of pure joy spread across your little face...

"She likes you," the girl said.

"Yeah, sure," he replied, looking at the girl, who was beaming. "I'm not taking her.”

He took you home that night.

Mike set down the cat bed, the toys, and the food and then stared at the cat carrier for a moment before opening it. He heard you sniffing and meowing, and then your face poked out, and you looked around curiously.

Soon, you were out of the cage, walking around his apartment. Abby had grown a fondness for you and was currently chasing you around the living room, trying to get you to play. She had already caught you several times and was just playing with you now.

Mike wasn’t special enough to get that treatment. You were an asshole, a menace, and a demon. You peed in his shoes, stole his food, and once bit his arm for no reason.

He hated you.

You were curled up on his chest, purring as he read the newspaper. He was ignoring you and trying to get his mind off the fact that you were on him when you decided that he was going to pay attention to you.

Your paw found his cheek, smacking it lightly.

"What?" he said, lowering the paper.

"Mraow," You said, only looking up at him for a moment.

"What?"

Your paw hit his face again. When he ignored you for the second time, you decided to go in with claws. You didn’t scratch his face, but his paper now had holes in it, and a few lines of ink were smudged.

"Hey! Bad cat!"

He moved to set you on the couch, but you didn’t let go. He ended up holding you as you screamed in his face, clawing at his shirt.

"You little asshole," he grumbled, setting you down and getting up. You followed him, crying loudly. He didn't have any intention of feeding you, but he wanted you to shut up.

"Meow meow!" you shouted.

"Yes, yes, I'm getting it," he said, filling your food bowl. "Now eat it."

You did not eat it. Instead, you looked up at him and cried louder.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want to starve? Because that can be arranged."

He went back to reading his paper, trying his hardest to ignore you.

It didn't work. You sat by his foot, screaming until he picked you up and put you on his lap. He was going to keep his hands busy by petting you, but that didn't work because as soon as he stopped, you would start screaming again.

He had no idea that cats were so demanding. But then again, he'd never owned a cat. He had no idea what to expect.

He wondered why he had ever adopted you.

He didn't have to wonder long.

As soon as he was done giving you attention, you got off him and sat down next to him. Mike looked down, and you looked up, and then you put your paw on his leg and started kneading his pants, making small noises.

You were so happy and content, and it was obvious.

"You are an asshole," he said. "But at least you're an adorable asshole."

You have a content little purr and laid down next to him. Sure, Abby might be the one who appreciated you more and the one who wanted to play, but Mike was the one you had chosen.

And you were never going to leave him. No matter how many times he seriously considered sending you back to the shelter,

You were never letting him go. And, despite what he says, he was never letting you go, either.

[vaguesxrrow]

edwin x alive reader where the reader is like the opposite of edwin sort of? they’re very outgoing and pretty naive and very nice to everyone? they also don’t really have a filter. (established relationship pls) and like edwin is constantly like about to have a ghost heart attack from keeping them out of trouble but he loves them anyway

again, thanks for your patience and thanks for the request !!

edwin / alive!reader - polar opposites

a/n: i hope this is what you had in mind! it was definitely a challenge writing this type of character but i hope i did your idea justice :))

wc: 802

tags: gender neutral reader, alive reader

"aww, a dog!" you cooed, moving to go pet the dog you saw laying on the floor. its eyes shone as it looked up at you, practically begging to be pet.

wordlessly, edwin yanked you by the arm back into his side. at this point, it was second nature to him to tighten his hold on you whenever you drifted from his side for even a second.

"hey!" you protested, pouting.

"do not tell me you do not remember the last time you tried to pet a stray,” he said. “because it was not exactly a forgettable experience.”

you smiled guiltily as you recalled the event.

⌦ --

you and edwin had been in the woods on an investigation for a case - the ghost of a very talkative squirrel had brought it to your attention that there was something, or someone, stealing away the inhabitants of the forest.

suddenly, there was a 'meow', and you immediately looked around trying to find the source of the noise. edwin was nose-deep in his notebook, furiously scribbling away. you had no doubt he was conjuring up some brilliant idea or solution - edwin was just a genius like that.

your face split into a grin when you located the cat. "pspsps," you called. "here, kitty kitty."

it meandered towards you, eyes glowing with innocence.

"edwin!" you called. "come here, there's a kitty cat!"

his head whipped in your direction and his eyes widened. "[name], do not pet that thing-"

"but why not?" you said, reaching out to scritch it behind the ear. "it's so cute- OH MY GOD-"

the cat yawned adorably - or at least that wad what it looked like at first. it's jaw kept expanding, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth and allowing a foul smell to waft out. you scrambled backwards, falling into edwin. from his pocket, he pulled out another volume you recognised as the spell book. in quick successesion, he muttered a spell at the cat and reduced it to ashes. panting, you tried to catch your breath and calm your speeding heart (which had sped up much quicker at observing edwin's efficiency as he protected you).

edwin looked at you accusingly, a wordless reprimand in the way his eyebrows were raised.

you grimaced. "it was a kitty cat?" you tried.

he snapped the spellbook shut. "after the fiasco with the cat king, i thought you'd be more wary."

"well, i'm sorry that the cats i've encountered aren't usually magical!" you exclaimed. “and besides, we solved the mystery - go team!” you cheered and lifted a hand for a high five.

he rolled his eyes, tugging you along by your raised hand. leaning in to his side, you smiled at him. "thanks for saving me, edwin."

"yes, yes," he said nonchalantly, even as he bit back a smile.

you kissed him. "my knight in shining armour," you cooed.

⌦ --

"it's not my fault i don't have as much experience with the spooky industry as you do," you pointed out, shrugging. "and besides, it's hot when you protect me."

a blush rose to edwin's face as he spluttered. "you cannot just say things like that!"

oblivious to edwin's state of embarrassment, you diverted your attention to a baby passing by in a stroller and waved at it excitedmy. "you two made such a cute kid!" you told the parents. if they looked at you a bit strangely at your choice of wording, you didn't notice.

edwin put his arm around your shoulder, guiding you forward again, before you found another animal to pet or another infant to befriend.

⌦ --

the bell to the butcher shop jingled as you burst through the door, edwin trailing after you. you were balancing a cardboard tray of four coffee cups in your hand, having generously offered to go on a drink run for jenny, crystal, and niko.

"hi, jenny!" you called. "i'm back with my ghost boyfriend!"

jenny slammed her cleaver down on the chopping board, an exasperated expression on her face, as the customer at the counter turned to you questioningly.

"oops." you winced apologetically. "uhh. no ghost boyfriend here! he's, uh definitely not real.. and not hissing at me about subtlety..." you inched closer to the counter, setting down jenny's black coffee cup. "okay, it was nice meeting you, stranger! i like your jacket, and i totally don't have a ghost boyfriend! bye!" you waved to the stranger as you disappeared up the stairs. "see you later jenny!"

edwin followed you into your room, looking at you in half bemusement, half disbelief. "while i am a ghost and cannot suffer from such conditions," he began. "it does feel like i go into cardiac arrest every time i have to keep you out of trouble."

"yeahh, but you looove me," you sing-songed.

he smiled. "i do.”

[amongdestiny-qu33n]

Welcome to the crew!!

Hey! This is Prime! This is a little get-to-know for me, the characters, and the AU itself!!

My other ask-blog AU: @ask-the-amongus-retrieve-au

My best friends: @indigoblu2, @trippin-chippin, @meow-and-ink-demon, @thedrsteven

We are SO excited!! Here it is, read the whole thing so you know what and what not to do and who the characters are!!

Story: The Crewmates and Imposters go onto Skeld, looking for a new planet to call home due to the fact Earth is dying because of pollution, earthquakes, etc. And when the crew boards, the scanners pick up Alien DNA, but the announcement shuts off before they can say who’s an imposter. So you as the readers and interactors have to help them find the imposters and vote them off before they get to the new planet; where there will be 8 more characters waiting. You as the interactors will also decide challenges in polls and can help do tasks by telling certain characters they’re tasks they need to fulfill. You also can help them by giving them hints towards imposters, can’t be too obvious though or you’ll be voted off!!

Characters:

Frost (Crewmate) and Flower (Imposter) belong to: @meow-artist-cat (on break)

Yellow Fever (Crewmate) and Dani (Imposter) belong to: @trippin-chippin

Bronze (Crewmate) and Wine (Imposter) belong to: @cutecrewmates (Me)

Flik and Maple are by: @indigoblu2

Joe & Millie are by: @thedrsteven

REMEMBER: THIS IS FOR FUN!!!

Rules: No bullying, harassment, telling who the imposters are, or any kind of sexual or harmful activity on this blog. Or you’ll be blocked, including your side blogs.

People in it: @thedrsteven, @trippin-chippin, @meow70-marsmalow, @indigoblu2 and @cutecrewmates (Me)

ASK AWAY! INBOX IS OPEN FOR QUESTIONS TOWARDS THE CHARACTERS!!!

Edit: To see the entire thing, type in the search bar in our profile, “Rip Crewmates” and you’ll find all the asks and comics! I’ll (Prime) be posting non-AU related content as well, BUT, I won’t tag it as “Rip Crewmates”!! So you can see the real stuff.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Curtis and Honey Autumn This Or That 🍂

Week One: Dried Leaves or Lots of Candles

Summary- 1.2k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. Curtis spoils you after a long day at school.

Warnings- Reader uses past coping mechanisms from when she was dating her ex.

THIS IS AN 18+ Only Blog

A/N- Happy Autumn Season! Thank you all for helping make this possible with all the shares and votes on the poll. If you enjoyed, please comment and give a share. Remember every Friday I will be posting a poll to help decide which fall-themed story gets posted next, a This or That. All the love!

Curtis and Honey This or That Masterlist

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

“I’m sure the store thought I was crazy.” Curtis muttered into the phone while Tanya on the other end scoffed. 

“I’m sure your romantic gesture just wooed half the ladies in that store while you were purchasing every candle in the place.” 

Curtis wrestled his door open while having the phone tucked in his shoulder, several bags in his hold were groaning at how heavy they were, threatening to burst if he didn’t hurry up getting them set down. “Maybe the guy who checked me out thought so? He also questioned if I was impressing someone or doing a satanic ritual. ” Curtis glanced around to see the house was empty, short of Binx who meowed at him from one of the kitchen stools, blinking at him lazily like Curtis was disturbing him. The black cat purred when Curtis set his multiple bags down to run a hand over his ear and gave a scritch along his jawline.

Tanya laughed hard into the phone. “What did you say?” 

“Told him it wasn’t his business and handed him the cash. Let him wonder what the fuck I’m up to.” Curtis shut the door with a bump of his foot. 

“Well yes, now everyone working at that store really will think you're crazy.” 

“As if I care. Alright, I gotta go, Honey is gonna be here soon and I still need to clean up a bit.” 

“Okay, she is going to love it Curtis, see you in the office Monday.” 

“Yup, bye.” He hung up the phone quickly to slip it into his pocket. Upstairs he had a lot to do and not a lot of time to get it done. 

The week seemed to never end and honestly, your nerves and tolerance for anything was at the end. The kids had been wild, and restless after their summer away. Getting them back on track with the nice weather outside and stuffy classroom inside was proving to be a challenge. Not to mention the constant reminders from the school board that they were underfunded, understaffed, and expected to give more with limited supplies. You had already dipped into your banking account to get what your room minimally deserved and to have to be told that you were expected to do better was like a physical jab. 

You were just ready to tell all of them to fuck off. 

But now it was the weekend, for a few hours at least you could unwind and maybe forget the school's issues. You had the newest Katee Roberts book on your kindle and you were sure that after Curtis’s week as well, the two of you weren’t going anywhere but the living room couch to decompress. 

It was really all you could hope for and wanted at this point. Going up the steps, you started to mentally discuss with Curtis how a night in was all you could handle for today at least. 

It was easier to expect every scenario with him, be prepared for anything, because people could be unpredictable. Jake taught you that early in the relationship. His reactions could be wildly out of control, often getting mad and upset when you didn’t want to go along with whatever he wanted to do. 

Those times you would stand your ground with him, you had to be ready for kind of accusation thrown your way. 

And old habits die hard still. 

So now you were mentally thinking about Curtis getting angry at your suggestion, that he wanted to go out, hang with you and his friends, and how you would respond. The door swung open to a dim house. “Curtis?” You called out as you set your school bag on the floor to shrug out of your jacket. 

He popped around the corner from the livingroom, his gaze swiftly going up and down you while you pulled your shoes off. “Hey Honey, how was your day? It sounded rough from your message this afternoon.” Reaching you, he grasped your coat from you to hang it up. 

“Still long, didn’t really get any better. Um, did you want me to go out tonight with you?” 

Curtis paused from hanging up your jacket, seeming to try to find how he wanted to answer your question. “I mean… Did you want to Honey? I was planning on staying home, I already called Paulie and told him I wasn’t tending the bar tonight.” 

“Actually that's perfect for me too. I just want to stay here, crash on the couch and unwind. You know, forget this week in the laziest way possible.” 

Curtis nodded as he listened, holding out his hand to you and when you took it, stepping into him, he hugged you loosely, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “I might have something that would work for you Honey.” 

“I don’t know how it can be any better than crashing on the couch though?” You questioned with an arch of your brows and Curtis pressed a kiss to your forehead, tugging you with him. 

“Come upstairs with me and I will show you?” He easily eased you towards the stairs, pausing to let you decide if you wanted to follow.

“I’m always up for your show and tells.” You continued up the stairs, catching his huff of a laugh at your lame school term. When you two reached the upper hallway and to the master bedroom, you caught sight of all the candles, glimmering to fill the dark bedroom in the softest of light. “Oh…” You sighed softly in appreciation at it all. 

“Mmh, I thought maybe…” Curtis eased open the bathroom door to show even more glowing candles around the tub, your favorite bubbles and a glass of wine sitting on the sinks edge, a book resting on the closed toilet seat. “This would help you feel better after this past week.” 

It was hard not to be moved by the gift he gave you, the offering of relaxation among hot bubble bath and flickering candles making an atmosphere that you just wanted to get lost in. “This is wonderful Curtis.” You turned in his hold to look up at him, pressing kisses to his jawline and hugging around him. “But that tub isn’t big enough for us both.” You frowned a bit, your forehead wrinkling at him having to miss out on enjoying this relaxation with you. 

“Yeah, one day I plan on fixing that.” He rubbed at your back. “But how about you go ahead and soak, I can read to you?” He plucked up the book he brought in.

You really didn’t know how to react the gesture, immediately going to say he did enough already, he shook his head at you to silence you. “I’m offering Honey because I want to do this with you, not because I feel like I have to.”

All you could do was smile up at him. “I would really appreciate that.” You eased from his hold, breathing in a deep calming breath to let all your earlier worries start to drift away. Curtis let his hands slide down your sides to grasp your shirt. “Thank you for taking care of me Curtis, for loving me.” 

“You make it easy to do Honey.” Was his response as you lifted your arms and he eased your shirt off you to land back into the bedroom beyond.

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 7

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 7

His human came home that evening slightly late, but absolutely elated. Loki felt his heart swell to nearly bursting when he saw your smile. You breezed in and immediately lifted him and kissed him on the nose, then snuggled him close and kissed his velvety head.

“Oh, Loki. I've had such an amazing day!” you said flitting around, putting groceries away and kicking off your heels, nearly dancing with joy. “Mr. Mullen called me to his office and he's giving me a chance! He even apologized for being such an ass before.”

Good, Loki thought with a devious smirk. I guess he does value being in one piece.

He watched as you stroked the lovely purple cardigan then reluctantly took it off, placed it on a hanger, and smoothed out the delicate fabric with care.

Sweet mortal! Loki thought, You needn't be so careful with it. It's not some great treasure...just a token. I would get you hundreds of them, one for every day of the year, in every color. I would see that you never feel cold again.

But then he remembered the kind of creature you are, grateful for everything, expecting nothing, treating every good thing, person, and gift as something precious. He watched as you took a professional outfit out of a Mullen's Department Store bag and laid it out on the sofa. The crisp new fabric of the pencil skirt was a sharp contrast to the threadbare upholstery.

“Well Loki, what do you think? I've never had to buy office clothes before. I'm not sure about it but Tammy helped me pick it out.”

“Meow”. I approve! Very classy...but you'd look so much lovelier in an Asgardian court gown with a crown upon your head. That would be more befitting your beauty.

His human chuckled, and seemed to only understand his affirmation. “Thank you. I'm so glad you like it. I have a feeling you have great taste,” you said as you massaged between his ears until he purred with satisfaction. Sitting, you gathered him more closely into your arms, meeting his lovely, rare eyes and said, “You know...ever since I found you, everything has gotten better. I mean...not just the good luck of a promotion and meeting Henry. Just...you make every day better. I was so alone before. Thank you, little kitten. You're so important to me.”

You stroked his back and all he could do was purr as he floated on your praise. He had never felt such sheer pleasure from bringing joy to another being. Loki had also rarely ever been praised for anything either...mostly told to shut up or stop. He was ecstatic, bursting at the seams. He longed to reveal himself to you and finally ask you to spend your lives together on a grand adventure, but how could he? How would you believe him? How would you take it?

Come on, Loki ,he encouraged himself, you're the god of mischief. Scheming is what you do. Do it for a glorious purpose this time.

Patience was never his favorite thing, but he was determined to try it for his sweet human. The younger prince of Asgard felt an unusual pang of anxiety. Loki rarely faced anything in his long life that presented a true challenge or obstacle; but here it was before him. You were worth it, he decided. For you, and only you, he would find a way.

----

That weekend you didn't receive a call from Henry. You did, however receive a letter in your mailbox in that same lovely handwriting on green and gold paper.

Darling,

I know there is Fall Carnival is this weekend at that lovely orchard outside of town, and I have never attended such an event before. Would you be my date for the day? Meet me in front of your building at 3 pm on Saturday and we'll have a splendid day together.

Sincerely,

Henry

Reading the note, you couldn't help smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. What an odd man! Sending courtly letters instead of calling like a normal person. It was incredibly charming, though; idiosyncratic in a way that inclined you to trust him. You guessed he wasn't so perfectly confident after all, if phone calls scared him. You couldn't blame him though. They scared you too.

So on Saturday, just before 3 pm, you kissed the little cat goodbye, then swung out the door in the one nice pair of jeans you owned and a sturdy raincoat, excitement and anticipation crackling through your bloodstream.

----

Loki's irrepressible Cheshire cat grin unfurled across his face as he turned to see you hurrying toward your front door. You couldn't believe how handsome 'Henry' he looked; like an English country gentlemen, with his perfectly coordinated leather boots and coat. Evaluating your own ratty hiking boots and dated parka you felt like slinking away in embarrassment, but it was far too late for that.

Still, he kissed your hand like a princess and said, “Darling! Thank you for joining me today. You look absolutely lovely!”

“Henry...I look like I'm going hiking...and possibly like I'm living in a tent. I feel terribly under-dressed next to you.”

He looked genuinely concerned for a moment. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious. I'm sure we'll be equally muddy by the end of the day, in any case,” he paused, looking deeply into your eyes, “and I'm sure you look lovely in anything at all.”

“You, sir, are dangerously charming,” you quipped, scrunching your nose in that adorable way you often did. You couldn't know how the little habit always made him fall to pieces.

---

At the orchard the carnival rides were in full frenzied swing. The hundreds of multi-color bulbs painted swaths of pulsing color around the makeshift amusement park and further into the fields beyond. The rusty omnipresent hue of old machinery blended into the natural coppery-colored remainders of autumn foliage. You walked through the crowd, each holding cups of warm cider and talking between languid steps and steamy sips.

“You know, in all the years I've lived here,” you said, “I've never come to this carnival. Thank you for giving me a nudge to do it.”

“My absolute pleasure,” he assured you. “I've never been here either.”

You just observed his lovely patrician face for a moment until he finally noticed and said, “What is it?”

You grinned and stopped in your tracks, “Uh...nothing...it's nothing...just. You seem like some kind of incredibly fairytale prince...the way you talk, and your fine clothes and gifts and...and leaving letters instead of calling. How did you know my address, by the way?”

“Ah...well...Janet helped me out with that one. She said it was very romantic and was happy to be in on it,” he said with a shy grin.

You chuckled knowingly, “Well it is, and you are incredibly disarming, but you already know that. And she's still so young. Her whole world revolves around romance. Life hasn't taken that from her yet. I hope it doesn't.”

You both continued walking but he tilted his head to observe you. Some unspoken sadness flickered across your face; some history of aching rejection he had yet to discern. It was a scar, and he wanted to kiss it.

“What? Don't you think romance makes life worth living?”

You scoffed at him, assuming he was being sarcastic, but his eyes were completely innocent and sincere. “Well...I don't know. I never counted on it or looked for it. There were always more practical concerns. I figured if I told myself I didn't want or need it, it wouldn't hurt so much to never have it.” You shrugged. “It just always seemed like something meant for other people, not me. So I looked for joy and meaning in everything else,” you said looking around thoughtfully, “...in kindness, in the things I get excited about learning, in the small beautiful parts of life. Even on the bad days I try not to take anything for granted.”

“Wow,” he said, “are you some kind of saint?”

You raised and eyebrow at him and said, “I assure you. I'm far from it.” And I'd like to show you personally how far from it I could be, you thought and then pushed it away just as quickly.

“I have sad and weak and angry days. I have days where I want to scream and jump out of my fucking window. I often feel alone and...different. I wonder what's wrong with me that I don't let anyone get too close.”

He considered this. “ You are different, and it's wonderful.” He realize he was staring. It was making you uncomfortable, so he changed tact slightly, reorganizing his thoughts. “Well, it's no great mystery, right? You've dealt with being hurt and disregarded by the people who were supposed to love you. That's a deep wound, and now your impulse is to survive...but maybe...just maybe, you could thrive while you're at it?”

You gave him a cautious grin, “That's a lovely thought...here's to hoping. I haven't felt hope for awhile, but it's making an appearance lately,” you said, toasting his your little paper cup with his and downing the last sips of your hot cider. When you both drained your cups, you were surprised to see Henry suddenly crumple his cup, throw it to the ground, and shout “Another!”. He quickly realized from the startled faces around him that his Asgardian gesture of appreciation must not be a universal one. “Oh,” he said with a chuckle, picking up the little cup; throwing it and yours into the garbage can. “I'm terribly sorry! Force of habit...it's a Scandinavian thing.”

You giggled a musical irrepressible laugh, and he felt himself go weak under its spell. He wanted to hear you laugh like that as often as possible. You pointed a finger against his firm chest stepped slightly closer, so the icy clouds of your breath mingled in the crisp air, “You are a delightfully odd man, Henry. I like you. I...I really like you,” you said, making eye contact. He met your gaze so intensely that you forgot to breathe. His hand curled around yours resting it against the soft leather of his coat. “I like you too, darling. So...so much. I know it's cliché and makes me sound utterly insane but I feel so comfortable with you...like I was meant to know you my whole life.”

You were stunned for a moment; partially because you felt entirely the same way, and partially because that did sound utterly insane. While your mind struggled to wrap around what he had just said, he massaged your hand gently and exclaimed, “My god! Darling, you're absolutely frozen. I should get you some gloves next time.” He untied his large wine-red scarf from his own neck and wrapped it around yours, then bundled your hands carefully in the draping ends.

Loki longed to kiss you in that moment. He wanted to kiss you so badly it ached within him every moment he didn't, but he found he couldn't, which puzzled him. He had never had any hesitation with kissing anyone before. Loki had never known the experience of nervousness or self-consciousness in romance...until now.

Why! He shouted within his mind You idiot, why aren't you kissing her right now?

Then a smaller voice within his mind piped up; an uncertain voice of his younger more insecure self, Because, what if I don't deserve her?

You were disappointed. He could see it clearly in your eyes. You wanted it just as much as he did, and the liminal silent tension was wearing on your both.

You couldn't bring yourself to initiate a kiss he might not want, so instead you wrapped your arms around his lanky waist and snuggled into his chest affectionately, whispering a simple “thank you”. Loki paused for a moment, stunned by the gesture, amazed to have you in his arms. Suddenly he gripped you very tightly, as if afraid you might drift away like a perfect dream upon waking. He felt a tear roll down his cheek in the icy air, first warm and then cool against his skin as he enjoyed the weight of you against him, close to him.

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger

[meowloudly15]

I have next to no knowledge of Japanese but I think a better English translation of "Mercurian Miss" would be "Milady Mercury". Might be less textually accurate but I think it sounds far better

[eventinelysplayground]

Entry three for @lorei-writes and @wordycheeseblob Wish Upon an Aide challenge. I have been having too much fun with these and have two more that are half done that I may or may not get done in time. This was inspired by the events at the end of Comtes chapter 9 and I used the red prompt love and the yellow one friendship. Language note for this fic: near the end Cat(Lumière) says Mais sacrifice which it's literal translation is but sacrifice however in Canadian french this is a swear with emphasis. The closest in English would be like oh FFS or uggh stupid SOB. Basically used when something/someone dumb and or annoying has aggrevated/pissed us off lol. Time consults his friends on what to do about Comte. Pure fun, WC approx 1045.

A Plan

It was a quiet afternoon as three friends sat talking in a dusty cellar.

I wish he would just tell her already.

Uh huh.

I mean he’s clearly in love with her and he's doing nothing about it at all! If he doesn't do something about it soon he's going to miss his chance.

Uh huh.

I mean there are ten other men in this house right? And between the Italian and the other two. Especially what's his name, the more obnoxious one!

Uh huh.

Arthur.

Arthur, that's it! I mean Arthur has no self control and is just a disaster waiting to happen.

Uh huh.

I don't understand why humans-

Vampires.

Ugh I don't understand why vampires have to be so guarded and flippant.

Uh huh.

Time turned to look at Harry who given the way he was replying was clearly off in his own little world again.

And the mansion is on fire.

Uh huh.

Oh for the love of, HARRY!

Time tossed a cork at Harry hitting him on the nose and startling him.

Oh Time, I'm sorry but ummm what were we talking about? I was thinking about-

Apples?

Eeep!

Harry let out a small sound of distress. He tilted his head up towards the voice and saw Cat sprawled out along a shelf.

Don't scare me like that! How long have you been up there anyways Cat?

Since before you both came in. I've even spoken before now, and also that's not my name.

Right, sorry about that.

Why apologize to him, Cat is what the Italian calls him so that's what his new name is. Not exactly a creative name or anything bu-

Ya because Time is sooo unique et spécial.

Écote toi-

That's enough!

Harry let out a loud chatter stepping into Time and Cat’s line of sight of each other.

Let's focus on the problem of ummm….

Cat rolled his eyes and Time sighed.

The problem of Comte being in love with that girl and doing nothing about it!

Right, okay well then umm…

Time sat patiently waiting for Harry to pull his thoughts together.

Well what's been done so far?

Well they spend an awful lot of time together, and the girl has made some small efforts but she seems confused, like she can't make up her mind.

She's perfect for him then!

Arrête ça.

Harry gave Cat a stern look. Cat let out a tiny meow and stretched out his front paws plopping his head down onto them before Harry turned his attention back to time.

Now then if they're already spending a lot of time together that's a good start. Let's see…

Does Comte even realize he loves this woman?

Well of course he does he's not…

Both Harry and Cat were giving Time a look and he stopped talking. He hated to admit it but perhaps they had a point.

I mean he has to know, doesn't he?

Not necessarily, he may be mistaking his feelings for something else..

That's a nice way of saying he's lying to himself.

Time tilted his head to the side in thought.

Why didn't I think of that before?

Harry shot Cat a look that clearly told him to keep his mouth shut.

Never mind about that right now, what we need to do in that case is make it clear to him what he's feeling.

Cat & Time both looked at Harry incredulously.

What? It's the truth.

Just how am I supposed to do that?

Well I…ummm…maybe you….I don't know. Surely the three of us can think of something though.

I don't remember volunteering to help.

You're here so you're helping, now think.

Time and Harry wore serious expressions on their faces while they tried to come up with any sort of idea. The three sat for a long time together, Time and Harry occasionally beginning a thought but then trailing off after apparently internally deciding it wouldn't work.

Sorry Time I really can't think of anything.

It's okay Harry I appreciate you trying to help me, maybe I'll just sneak out to the kennels later and ask Vic or King if they have any ideas.

Oh yes, asking those mutts will be soo helpful! All they care about is chasing their own.. Mais c'est ça!

Cat stretched and then jumped down from the shelf, coming to sit in front of a confused looking Time and Harry.

It’s almost too simple. All you need to do is get Comte to ‘chase’ her.

What?

Time and Harry spoke in unison and Cat tapped his paw on the ground in front of them.

You get him to ‘chase’ her. Put them in a situation together where lying to himself or not he realizes he could lose something valuable to him and so he can't help but go after it. In this place that should be simple enough non?

Oh I see! Thanks Cat I think I know just what to do now.

Ummm Time…

Harry started calling out to Time but it was too late as he had already scurried away.

I have a bad feeling about this.

Pour quois?

Didn't it seem like Time caught on to that way too quickly?

You worry too much.

Three days had passed since the conversation in the cellar and Cat was sleeping peacefully under a table in the hallway when he heard a sudden commotion.

“Squeak squeak!”

“Over there!”

“Time!”

“Squeak!”

“Ah no! I almost had him!”

Cat stretched out his paws and peered out from under the table.

Qu'est que passe?

Oh nothing really, just Time doing what you told him to do.

Cat startled slightly at Harry's unexpected presence.

What do you mean what-

At that moment Cat saw Time scurry past him with a pocket watch in his mouth.

“Time!”

“Squeak!”

“No matter how much you run, we will catch you eventually.”

Time, followed by Comte and Mitsuki disappeared around a corner.

Mais sacrifice!

I told you he caught on to that way too quickly.

I know…but maybe this could still work.

Harry tilted his head in thought for a moment then turned to look at Cat.

Hey, wanna follow them and see who wins?

Cat’s lips turned up in a smile.

Allons-y mon ami!

Harry smiled back at Cat before they both took off in a mad dash to see if Time could really make Comte realize just how deeply in love he had fallen.

[artificial-sleep]

Denki and Hitoshi that share an apartment and try to collect all of the stray cats nearby.

They have a system down pat: putting fresh food and water out for them every evening and trying to sweetly lure them in with "pspsps"s and light pats to slowly gain their trust.

They've been trying overtime recently to catch a particularly skiddish orange tabby. But Hitoshi  hasn't even managed to get close enough to pet it yet. But he sees its cute lil eyes from behind a bush or beneath a car and continues his relentless pursuit nonetheless.

"Did you see Pumpkin this morning?" Denki asks that night as they both settle in after their shifts. Hitoshi laughs.

"Really? You're going to the name the orange cat we found in October Pumpkin? How very original of you, baby," he teases, and Denki pouts.

"Shut up. I think it's cute!" he whines, crossing his arms in mock distress.

"Yeah, saw him lingering around the dumpster. Went under the fence before I could get close enough. I had to skip my run so I wouldn't be late," he says with a sigh. Denki looks sympathetic.

"It's starting to get colder out," Hitoshi says quietly, and Denki nods in understanding.

"It's okay, Tosh. We'll get him," he reassures with a small smile.

They continue setting food out each night and find it gone by morning, so at least they can hope Pumpkin has been fed.

But still no luck in luring her inside, bathing her, making sure she isn't sick, and is well-watered, fed, and nurtured.

After a few weeks, the entire community is in on the hunt. Hitoshi had a reputation for being the apartment complex's "crazy cat lady" even before Denki moved in and became his accomplice. Everyone sends strays his way and asks him questions about their cats and kittens since he probably has the answer. He's always eager to help.

But no one has been able to catch Pumpkin.

Days of this turn into weeks, and Hitoshi starts to lose hope.

But then one night, Hitoshi getting home a little later than usual having been tied up with a particularly challenging villian with a quirk that gave his opponents something like hives when making contact, something changes.

Hitoshi is sore, itchy all over, and tired, but that doesn't stop him from sweeping the parameter with the hope of finding Pumpkin. The cat is nowhere to be seen.

He sighs, feeling defeated as he makes it up to his doorstep.

He is taken aback when Denki squeals as the door opens, startling Hitoshi a bit, but Denki hardly notices, coursing with excitement.

"Tosh! You're home! Guess what?! I have the most amazing surprise!!" he beams, and Hitoshi can't help but smile. "You're not gonna believe it."

Hitoshi is about to say something like, 'Aww baby... What? You didn't have to do anything special" when he hears a very distinct "meow" that has him tilting his head and squinting his eyes, trying to listen closer.

That doesn't sound like any of his cats. "Who was that?" he asks Denki, confused, looking around him to see what new friend Denki had brought home.

And as soon as he sees it, Denki nearly bounces off of his feet, shaking with enthusiasm as he exclaims, "IT'S PUMPKIN! TOSHI, I GOT PUMPKIN!!" Hitoshi's mouth drops in surprise, and for a moment, he can't speak until the sweet cat meows again and an automatic "aw" falls from his lips as he drops to his knees and extends his hand to the cat.

"She's still a little stand-offish, but..." 

"She?" Hitoshi asks, looking up at Denki with watery eyes like he's just seen their daughter for the first time. Pumpkin very hesitantly bumps the tip of her nose against the ends of Hitoshi’s fingers, smelling and getting a feel for if she wants to get any closer.

And then she does, nestling her head under his hand, and Hitoshi nearly sobs. She's so darn sweet.

"Yeah, she's a girl! And she's wild for wet food. I laid some out this morning, the real fishy smelling one since Princess doesn't like that kind, and I thought maybe we could just get rid if it, and within the hour, I caught her on the porch."

Hitoshi is just beaming with joy.

Denki and Hitoshi spend the night playing with their cats, sprawled out on the floor together, watching Princess and Bonbon, their two domestic, in-door cats, swatting at toys and showing Pumpkin the ropes as she watches hesitantly.

Within a few days, Pumpkin is happily adapted, and they allow her to go in and out freely as they do most of their foster kitties once they're sure she's clean, but Pumpkin prefers to stay inside, close to her new family.

She even gets along with Princess and Bonbon and she stays plenty warm all winter long under the pumpkin-print throw blanket Denki insisted on buying for her. Oh, and she of course gets ALL the pets and tuna-flavored wet food her heart contends.

- E N D -

Bonus: Just imagine when it gets really cold out and Hitoshi lets ALL of the feral strays come in, and it's just him and Denki in a one bedroom apartment holed up with like 12 cats. 🤣 I LOVE them ugh (also Denki is responsible for naming all of their cats)

~meow~

[shuxiii]

Everyday pt.4

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13

a/n I know some idols have no siblings but pretend they have in this one because I am lazy, still all credits to ''every day'' by David Levithan meow

Day 5999

My mind is thoroughly wrung out, but I can tell Haruto Watanabe has gotten a good night’s sleep.

Haruto is a good guy. Everything in his room is in order. Even though it’s only Saturday morning, he’s already done his homework for the weekend. He’s set his alarm for eight o’clock, not wanting the day to go to waste. He was probably in bed by ten.

I go on his computer and check my email, making sure to write myself some notes about the last few days, so I can remember them. Then I log in to Minji’s email and find out there’s a party tonight at Huh Yunjin’s house. Yunjin’s address is only a Google search away. When I map out the distance between Haruto’s house and Yunjin’s, I find it’s only a ninety-minute drive.

It looks like Haruto might be going to a party tonight.

First, I must convince his parents.

His mother interrupts me when I’m back on my own email, rereading what I wrote about the day with Hanni. I very quickly shut the window, and oblige when she tells me that today is not a computer day, and that I am to come down for breakfast.

I very quickly discover that Haruto’s parents are a very nice couple who make it very clear that their niceness shouldn’t be challenged or pressed.

“Can I borrow the car?” I ask. “The school musical is tonight, and I would like to go see it.”

“Have you done your homework?”

I nod.

“Your chores?”

“I will.”

“And you’ll be back by midnight?”

I nod. I decide not to mention to them that if I’m not back by midnight, I’ll be ripped from my current body. I don’t think they’d find that reassuring.

It’s clear to me that they won’t need the car tonight. They are the type of parents who don’t believe in having a social life. They have television instead.

I spend most of the day doing chores. After I’m done with them and have had a family dinner, I’m good to go.

The party’s supposed to start at seven, so I know I have to wait until nine to show up, so there will be enough people there to hide my presence. If I get there and it ends up being open to only a dozen kids, I’ll have to turn back around. But that doesn’t strike me as Minji’s kind of party.

Haruto’s kind of party, I’m guessing, involves board games and Dr Pepper. As I drive back to Hanni’s town, I access some of his memories. I am a firm believer that every person, young or old, has at least one good story to tell. Haruto’s, however, is pretty hard to find. The only tremor of emotion I can find in his life is when he was nine and his dog April died. Ever since then, nothing seems to have disturbed him too much. Most of his memories involve homework. He has friends, but they don’t do very much outside of school. When Little League was over, he gave up sports. He has never, from what I can tell, sipped anything stronger than a beer, and even that was during a Father’s Day barbecue, at his uncle’s prodding.

Normally, I would take these as parameters. Normally, I would stay within Haruto’s safe zone.

But not today. Not with a chance of seeing Hanni again.

I remember yesterday, and how the trail that got me through the darkness seemed to be attached in some way to her. It’s as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I’ve gotten it backward, maybe it’s just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don’t think that’s it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn’t happened to meet her.

Now I’m letting my life hijack these other lives for a day. I am not staying within their parameters. Even if that’s dangerous.

I’m at Huh Yunjin’s house by eight, but Minji’s car is nowhere in sight. In fact, there aren’t that many cars out in front. So I wait and watch. After a while, people start arriving. Even though I’ve just spent a day and a half at their school, I don’t recognize any of them. They were all peripheral.

Finally, just after nine-thirty, Minji’s car pulls up. Hanni is with her, as I’d hoped she’d be. As they head in, she walks a little bit in front, with her a little behind. I get out of my car and follow them inside.

I’m worried there will be someone at the door, but the party’s already spiraled into its own form of chaos. The early guests are well past the point of drunkenness, and everyone else is quickly catching up. I know I look out of place—Haruto’s wardrobe is more suited to a debate tournament than a Saturday night house party. But nobody really cares; they’re too caught up in each other or themselves to notice a random geek in their midst.

The lights are dim, the music is loud, and Hanni is hard to find. But just the fact that I am in the same place as her has me nervously exhilarated.

Minji is in the kitchen, talking with some guys. She looks at ease, in her element. She finishes one beer and immediately goes for another.

I push past her, push through the living room and find myself in the den. The instant I step in the room, I know she’s here. Even though the music’s blaring from a laptop connected to some speakers, she’s over by the CD collection, thumbing through cases. Two girls are talking nearby, and I have a sense that at one point she was a part of their conversation, then decided to drop out.

I walk over and see that one of the CDs she’s looking at has a song we listened to on our car ride.

“I really like them,” I say, gesturing to the CD. “Do you?”

She startles, as if this is a quiet room and I am a sudden noise. I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.

“Yeah,” she says. “I like them, too.”

I start to sing the song, the one from the car. Then I say, “I like that one in particular.”

“Do I know you?” she asks.

“I’m Haruto,” I say, which isn’t a no or a yes.

“I’m Hanni,” she says.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks. I used to hate it, but I don’t so much anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a pain to spell.” She looks at me closely. “Do you go to Octavian?”

“No. I’m just here for the weekend. Visiting my cousin.”

“Who’s your cousin?”

“Yunjin.”

This is a dangerous lie, since I have no idea which of the person is Yunjin, and I have no way of accessing the information.

“Oh, that explains it.”

She is starting to drift away from me, just as I imagine she drifted away from the girls talking next to us.

“I hate my cousin,” I say.

This gets her attention.

“I hate the way she treats girls. I hate the way she thinks she can buy all her friends by throwing parties like this. I hate the way that she only talks to you when she needs something. I hate the way she doesn’t seem capable of love.”

I realize I’m now talking about Minji, not Yunjin.

“Then why are you here?” Hanni asks.

“Because I want to see it fall apart. Because when this party gets busted—and if it stays this loud, it will get busted—I want to be a witness. From a safe distance away, of course.”

“And you’re saying she’s incapable of loving Kazuha? They’ve been going out for over a year.”

With a silent apology to Kazuha and Yunjin, I say, “That doesn’t mean anything, does it? I mean, being with someone for over a year can mean that you love them… but it can also mean you’re trapped.”

At first, I think I’ve gone too far. I can feel Hanni taking in my words, but I don’t know what she’s doing with them. The sound of words as they’re said is always different from the sound they make when they’re heard because the speaker hears some of the sounds from the inside.

Finally, she says, “Speaking from experience?”

It’s laughable to think that Haruto—who, from what I can tell, hasn’t gone on a date since eighth grade—would be speaking from experience. But she doesn’t know him, which means I can be more like me. Not that I’m speaking from experience, either. Just the experience of observing.

“There are many things that can keep you in a relationship,” I say. “Fear of being alone. Fear of disrupting the arrangement of your life. A decision to settle for something that’s okay, because you don’t know if you can get any better. Or maybe there’s the irrational belief that it will get better, even if you know he won’t change.”

“He’?”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

At first I don’t understand what she sees—clearly, I was talking about her. Then I get where the pronoun has led her.

“That cool?” I ask, figuring it will make Haruto even less threatening if he’s gay.

“Completely.”

“How about you?” I ask. “Seeing anyone?”

“Yeah,” she says. Then, deadpan, “For over a year.”

“And why are you still together? Fear of being alone? A decision to settle? An irrational belief that he’ll change?”

“Yes. Yes. And yes.”

“So…”

“But he can also be incredibly sweet. And I know that, deep down, I mean the world to him.”

“Deep down? That sounds like settling to me. You shouldn’t have to venture deep down in order to get to love.”

“Let’s switch the topic, okay? This isn’t a good party topic. I liked it more when you were singing to me.”

I’m about to make reference to another song we heard on our car ride—hoping that maybe it’ll bring her back in some way—when Minji’s voice comes from over my shoulder, asking, “So who’s this?” If she was relaxed when I saw her in the kitchen, now she’s annoyed.

“Don’t worry, Minji,” Hanni says. “He’s gay.”

“Yeah, I can tell from the way he’s dressed. What are you doing here?”

“Haruto, this is Minji, my girlfriend. Minji, this is Haruto.”

I say hi. She doesn’t respond.

“You seen Kazuha?” she asks Hanni. “Yunjin’s looking for her. I think they’re at it again.”

“Maybe she went to the basement.”

“Nah. They’re dancing in the basement.”

Hanni likes this news, I can tell.

“Want to go down there and dance?” she asks Minji.

“Hell no! I didn’t come here to dance. I came here to drink.”

“Charming,” Hanni says, more (I think) for my benefit than her. “Do you mind if I go dance with Haruto?”

“You sure he’s gay?”

“I’ll sing you show tunes if you want me to prove it,” I volunteer.

Minji slaps me on the back. “No, bro, don’t do that, okay? Go dance.”

So that’s how it comes to pass that Hanni is leading me to Huh Yunjin’s basement. As we hit the stairs, we can feel the bass under our feet. It’s a different soundtrack here—a tide of pulse and beat. Only a few red lights are on, so all we can see are the outlines of bodies as they meld together.

“Hey, Yunjin!” Hanni calls out. “I like your cousin!”

A girl who must be Yunjin looks at her and nods. Whether she can’t hear what she’s said or whether she’s trashed, I can’t tell.

“Have you seen Kazuha?” she yells.

“No!” Hanni yells back.

Then we’re in with the dancers. The sad truth is that I have about as much experience on a dance floor as Haruto does. I try to lose myself in the music, but that doesn’t work. Instead, I need to lose myself in Hanni. I have to give myself over entirely to her—I must be her shadow, her complement, the other half of this conversation of bodies. As she moves, I move with her. I touch her back, her waist. She comes in closer.

By losing myself to her, I gain her. The conversation is working. We have found our rhythm and we are riding it. I find myself singing along, singing to her, and she loves it. She transforms once again into someone carefree, and I transform into someone whose only care is her.

“You’re not bad!” she shouts over the music.

“You’re amazing!” I shout back.

I know that Minji is not coming down here. She is safe with Huh Yunjin’s gay cousin, and I am safe knowing that nobody else will interfere with this moment. The songs collide into one long song—as if one singer is taking over when the previous one stops, all of them taking turns to give us this. The sound waves push us into each other, wrap around us like colors. We are paying attention to each other and we are paying attention to the enormity. The room has no ceiling; the room has no walls. There is only the open field of our excitement, and we run across it in small movements, sometimes without our feet leaving the ground. We go for what feels like hours and also feels like no time at all. We go until the music stops, until someone turns on the lights and says the party is ending, that the neighbors have complained and the police are probably coming.

Hanni looks as disappointed as I feel.

“I have to find Minji,” she says. “Are you going to be okay?”

No, I want to tell her. I won’t be okay until you can come with me to wherever it is that I’m going next.

I ask her for her email address, and when she raises an eyebrow, I tell her again not to worry, that I’m still gay.

“That’s too bad,” she says. I want her to say more, but then she’s giving me her email address, and in response I’m giving her a fake email address that I’ll have to set up as soon as I get home.

People are starting to run from the house. Sirens can be heard in the distance, probably waking up as many people as the party has. Hanni leaves me to find Minji, promising me that she’ll be the one to drive. I don’t see them as I run to my car. I know it’s late, but I don’t know how late it is until I turn on the car and look at the clock.

11:15.

There’s no way I’ll get there in time.

Seventy miles an hour.

Eighty miles an hour.

Eighty-five.

I drive as fast as I can, but it’s not fast enough.

At 11:50, I pull over to the side of the road. If I close my eyes, I should be able to fall asleep before midnight. That is the blessing of what I have to go through—I am able to fall asleep in minutes.

Poor Haruto Watanabe. He is going to wake up on the side of an interstate, an hour away from his home. I can only imagine how terrified he’ll be.

I am a monster for doing this to him.

But I have my reason.

Day 6000

It’s time for Yoon Kee Ho to go to church.

I quickly dress myself in his Sunday best, which either he or his mother conveniently left out the night before. Then I go downstairs and have breakfast with his mother and his three sisters. There’s no father in sight. It doesn’t take much accessing to know he left just after the youngest daughter was born, and it’s been a struggle for their mom ever since.

There’s only one computer in the house, and I have to wait until Keeho’s mother is getting the girls ready to go before I can quickly boot it up and create the email address I gave Hanni last night. I can only hope that she hasn’t tried to get in touch with me already.

Keeho's name is being called—it’s church time. I sign off, clear the history, and join my sisters in the car. It takes me a few minutes to get their names straight—Pam is eleven, Lacey is ten, and Jenny is eight. Only Jenny seems excited about going to church.

When we get there, the girls head off to Sunday school while I join Keeho’s mother in the main congregation. I prepare myself for a Baptist service and try to remember what makes it different from the other church services I’ve been to.

I have been to many religious services over the years. Each one I go to only reinforces my general impression that religions have much, much more in common than they like to admit. The beliefs are almost always the same; it’s just that the histories are different. Everybody wants to believe in a higher power. Everybody wants to belong to something bigger than themselves, and everybody wants company in doing that. They want there to be a force of good on earth, and they want an incentive to be a part of that force. They want to be able to prove their belief and their belonging, through rituals and devotion. They want to touch the enormity.

It’s only in the finer points that it gets complicated and contentious, the inability to realize that no matter what our religion or gender or race or geographic background, we all have about 98 percent in common with each other. Yes, the differences between male and female are biological, but if you look at the biology as a matter of percentage, there aren’t a whole lot of things that are different. Race is different purely as a social construction, not as an inherent difference. And religion—whether you believe in God or Yahweh or Allah or something else, odds are that at heart you want the same things. For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that’s different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that.

The only way I can navigate through my life is because of the 98 percent that every life has in common.

I think of this as I go through the rituals of a Sunday morning at church. I keep looking at Keeho’s mother, who is so tired, so taxed. I feel as much belief in her as I do in God—I find faith in human perseverance, even as the universe throws challenge after challenge our way. This might be one of the things I saw in Hanni, too—her desire to persevere.

After church, we head to Keeho’s grandmother’s house for Sunday dinner. There’s no computer, and even if it weren’t a three-hour drive away, there wouldn’t be any way for me to get to Hanni. So I take it as a day of rest. I play games with my sisters and make a ring of hands with the rest of my family when it’s time to say grace.

The only discord comes when we’re driving home and a fight breaks out in the backseat. As sisters, they probably have closer to 99 percent in common, but they’re not about to recognize that. They’d rather fight over what kind of pet they’re going to get … even though I’m not sensing any indication from their mother that a pet is in their near future. It’s an argument for its own sake.

When we get home, I bide my time before asking if I can use the computer. It’s in a very public place, and I will need everyone to be in another room in order to check my email. While the three girls run around, I retire to Keeho’s room and do his weekend homework the best that I can. I am banking on the fact that Keeho has a later bedtime than his sisters, and in this I am correct. After Sunday supper, the girls get an hour of television in the same room as the computer. Then Keeho’s mother tells them it’s time to get ready for bed. There’s much protest, but it falls on deaf ears. This is its own kind of ritual, and Mom always wins.

While Keeho’s mother is getting the girls into their pajamas and getting out their clothes for tomorrow, I have a few minutes on my own. I quickly check the email I set up in the morning, and there’s no message from Hanni yet. I decide it can’t hurt to be proactive here, so I type in her address and start an email before I can stop myself.

Hi Hanni,

I just wanted to say that it was lovely meeting you and dancing with you last night. I’m sorry the police came and separated us. Even though you’re not my type, gender-wise, you’re certainly my type, person-wise. Please keep in touch.

H

That seems safe enough to me. Clever, but not self-congratulatorially so. Sincere, but not overbearing. It’s only a few lines, but I reread it at least a dozen times before I hit send. I let go of the words and wonder what words will come back. If any.

Bedtime seems to be taking a while—it sounds like there’s some argument about which chapter their read-aloud left off on—so I load up my personal email.

Such an ordinary gesture. One click, and the instant appearance of the inbox, in all its familiar rows.

But this time it’s like walking into a room and finding a bomb right in the middle of it.

There, under a bookstore newsletter, is an incoming message from none other than Haruto Watanabe.

The subject line is WARNING.

I read:

I don’t know who you are or what you are or what you did to me yesterday, but I want you to know you won’t get away with it. I will not let you possess me or destroy my life. I will not remain quiet. I know what happened and I know you must be in some way responsible. Leave me alone. I am not your host.

“Are you okay?”

I turn and find Keeho’s mother in the doorway.

“I’m fine,” I say, positioning myself in front of the screen.

“Alright, then. You have ten minutes more, then I want you to help me unload the dishwasher and head to bed. We have a long week ahead of us.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I turn back to the email. I don’t know how to respond, or if I should respond. I have a vague recollection of Haruto’s mother interrupting me while I was on the computer—I must have closed the window without clearing the history. So when Haruto loaded up his email, it must have been my address that popped up. But he doesn’t know my password, so the account itself should be safe. Just in case, though, I know I need to change my password and move all my old emails, quick.

I will not remain quiet.

I wonder what this means.

I can’t forward all my old emails in the ten minutes that I have, but I start to make a dent in them.

“Keeho!”

Keeho’s mother calls me and I know I have to go. But clearing the history and turning off the computer can’t stop my thoughts. I think about Haruto waking up on the side of the road. I try to imagine what he must have felt. But the truth is, I don’t know. Did he feel like it was something he had gotten himself into? Or did he immediately know that something was wrong, that someone else had been in control? Was he sure of this when he went to his computer and saw my email address?

Who does he think I am?

What does he think I am?

I head into the kitchen and Keeho’s mother gives me another look of concern. She and Keeho are close, I can tell. She knows how to read her son. Over the years, they’ve been there for each other. He’s helped raise his sisters. And she’s raised him.

If I really were Keeho, I could tell her everything. If I really were Keeho, no matter how hard it was to understand, she would be on my side. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

But I am not really her son, or anyone’s son. I can’t disclose what’s bothering Keeho today, because it doesn’t have much bearing on who he’ll be tomorrow. So I brush off his mother’s concern, tell her it’s no big deal, then help her take the dishes out of the dishwasher. We work in quiet camaraderie until the task is done, and sleep calls.

For a while, though, I can’t go to sleep. I lie in bed, stare at the ceiling. This is the irony: Even though I wake up in a different body every morning, I’ve always felt in some way that I am in control.

But now I don’t feel in control at all.

Now there are other people involved.

[leiascully]

I'd love to hear your continued thoughts about S8 because, having read your thoughts, I have the exact opposite read on his character (which fascinates me to no end.) I'll put together a more cohesive post in future with detailed screenshots about what I'm talking about, but:

Mulder didn't shut Scully out, I believe, in a "get out of my life way": he softened every time she spoke to him, he sought her out; and when he neglected her or wasn't there for her, DD played Mulder with tons of regret for his actions. Mulder from Je Souhaite/Requiem was still there; but the writing cut all those important moments out, leaving DD/GA to make the best of what they could with the material (because CC spent so much time on Doggett-- unnecessarily-- to get the audience to REALLY like him, as I believe you said.)

Truly, I'm curious where the ideological split is on Mulder. Where do you think it comes from? My guess... hm... I think it's because Scully knew his patterns since episode one: he challenged her in the basement, making her "prove" herself; and when she stood her ground, he beamed. And when the conversation concluded, she beamed. Because I truly believe Scully LIKES to be challenged, likes to "earn" Mulder's full attention and debunk/debate his ideas. It's their singular love language-- that and silent touches and meaningful gazes-- and she's just as charmed in Chinga whenever he calls as he is in calling her.

You mentioned how Never Again Mulder was still putting the work over her, making her prove herself; and I do agree. That was his lesson. BUT that wasn't what he meant to do, because he's so small and shrunken by the end of the episode that Scully didn't see that her life is also his, dropping his sentence because that would mean their dynamic would have to shift. And he wasn't ready for it, yet. Scully needs the reassurance that Mulder gives her in FTF; but she has to wait for a bit to get there.

Those are just my thoughts-- feel free to checkmate the ludicrous ones~. ;))))

This is going to sound flip, but I honestly try NOT to think about S8 as much as possible, because I get so frustrated, but thoughts under the cut to save all our dashes.

First, I get very grumpy about how much time was wasted in S8 on trying to convince us that John Doggett, former Marine and NYPD detective, was the world's littlest meow meow who had never done anything wrong, despite being a cog in the same imperialist machine that the Syndicate is part of - they just pledge allegiance to a different flag (aliens?). Not only do I have to endure the lack of Mulder and Doggett trying to make himself important to Scully, I have to deal with this piss-fight of Mulder and Doggett both being territorial about Scully and the X-Files when Mulder comes back, as if Doggett has earned the right in however many months versus however many years to be protective of either.

Anyway, I do think Mulder shut her out in S8. The first thing he says to her when he wakes up in "DeadAlive" is a joke. That's also what he does when she comes back to the office in "Never Again". He keeps her at arm's length. Mulder's impulsivity is framed by the narrative as one of his valuable traits - those associopoetic leaps and literal leaps into danger are part of what make him a successful field agent with a high solve rate. He literally flung himself onto a train, you know? But Scully's foray into impulsivity in "Never Again" - sleeping with Jerse, which is arguably less bad than punching a suspect, which Mulder has done multiple times, and on equal footing with sleeping with Kristin - is immediately and harshly punished by the narrative in a way that Mulder's actions aren't. (Sure, Kristin doesn't have a great fate, but Mulder doesn't experience bodily harm or slutshaming about it.) And while Scully presumably never finds out about Kristin, Mulder obviously knows about Jerse and has Opinions about it all.

Instead of understanding Scully's desire to feel like a valued member of the team, on equal footing, with her own desk, he (willfully?) misinterprets her, says it would be difficult to accommodate her request, and then decides that her choices are all about him and the work, as if Scully's desire can only be understood in the context of it being an attempt to rebel against or punish Mulder. He has conceptualized himself as the embodiment of The Work, in essence, where as Scully's body is Worked On, even though she tries over and over to prove herself and put herself on equal footing. Everything that happens to Scully is about him; everything that happens to him is also about him. We know that he cares about her and he's worried that she was hurt, but he doesn't show that to her in "Never Again". We also don't really see him allowing her to show she cares about him much in S8, except to tend to the minor bodily harm he gets with that scratch (even then, he tells her she has "manos de piedra").

Mulder's trauma in S8 is real and it's definitely earned. The things he went through are hard things. It's understandable that he's shellshocked when he comes back and everything is different. When Scully was abducted, he tried his best to keep everything pretty much the same in anticipation of her return, the way Samantha is still a child in his mind. He refused to have a partner, etc. Scully made an effort, but it isn't as if she could put her pregnancy on pause or get rid of Doggett. Both of them are at fault for not having conversations about that, but he does deflect her few half-hearted efforts with humor and sarcasm. He's a little more open in "Empedocles" after he's feeling more reintegrated into his life, but we don't see much indication of him seeking any kind of help with that reintegration, either from Scully or a qualified professional, whereas Scully went to therapy multiple times and seemed to have an established relationship with her therapist. He holes up in his apartment and decides she's shut him out despite the ways she keeps trying to invite him back into her life. This is in pretty sharp contrast with Scully after her abduction/cancer immediately trying to get back to work and be his partner again (not healthy either, but a very different approach). Mulder, who feels left out of the decisions she made when he was gone, leaves her out of the majority of his decisions in S8. He tries to convince himself she was better off without him, but that's not what she's telling him. He's in so much pain that he doesn't know how to make room for her hurt. That ends up causing both of them more pain. But she still makes space for him: inviting him over, asking him to be involved in the baby's life, giving him the desk back in the office, etc. Every now and again, he's able to step into that space, but it seems to take effort. He's so willing to sacrifice himself/what they have without ever asking her if that's what she wants.

The moment in the Pilot is lovely. But anyone will tell you that the thrill of proving yourself for the first time doesn't last through having to prove yourself for the hundredth time. Scully never betrays him, but he still only lets her in so much. Yes, he tells her about Samantha, but he doesn't tell her about Diana. And sure, he tells other people that he values her skepticism, or at least, her willingness to put in the work to come up with an explanation that isn't just based on Vibes™ and crystals, but he doesn't tell her until FTF, at which point he's making a hard choice harder for her. Even then, it's framed as about what she's done for him (saved him, made him a whole person), not who she is to him (a true partner, a soulmate). He's a dick to her in WotC despite her being willing to help him, they're dicks to each other in "Syzygy", and I would argue she's not as charmed as you say in "Chinga", because he tries to talk about Supernatural Explanation 101 as if she doesn't have a Doctorate in Weird Shit by now. He's charmed by her, but it's like she's a dog with a new trick, not like she's the person who's been right beside him for five years researching all of this. Scully has been shown to accept the strange as long as she can explain it and he's talking to her like she's fresh out of X-Files Orientation. Yes, he sometimes tells her to trust herself and that her intuition is good, but those are usually the moments when her intuition and her training are telling her two different things ("Beyond The Sea", "Emily", "Memento Mori", etc.).

This is not to say that Scully always does the right thing with respect to either the work or their relationship, but those are my reads on those threads. I honestly don't care if Mulder feels small at the end of "Never Again". It's literally not about him. It's about Scully wondering what she should do with her life if she isn't getting what she needs, and finding out immediately there are repercussions that Mulder will never face. When Mulder goes through a sort of similar crisis of faith in "The Red And The Black", Scully teases him a little, but she's ultimately there for him in a way he's not there for her at this moment, and he never really understands the way that she is disrespected and undervalued by the patriarchal system of the FBI.

(Reading the wiki, I found out Doggett is supposed to have a J.D. and a Master's and that just makes me angrier tbh. Has no one in that writer's room ever actually gotten an advanced degree?)