#cat centric…. CAR CENTRIC

[collisiondiscourse]

wanted to do a bkdk fic rec list for my recent faves, so im dropping some here 👇👇👇

always remember to read tags!

rise by titan (@/yee-boii)

a fic about love and also kinda growing up and changing as a person. fluffy and introspective and bakugou-centric if ur looking for adult bkdk learning how to be together. love this one a lot!

order up by sweetfictionaldreams

a funny fic where kacchans a cook and dekus an expo and absolutely nothing can go wrong wdym. very funny and also has some nsfw

you and i collide by ethereals

scummy frat boy kacchan hits nerdy stockholm syndrome deku with his car. need i say more? contains some nafw

the secretary by crispymika

an office romance between pro hero bkg and fem!quirkless!deku !! deku is also mtf trans in this which is a headcanon i now absolutely adore. contains some nsfw.

may contain traces of love by xplodobaby

another bkfemdk fic!!! i absolutely adore this one too. its a fluffy monster that is sweet and a little angsty in all the right places. a wonderful meet cute for anyone looking

runaway matchmaker by anoksun

deku, kacchan, and a no-good meddling cat who won't stop embarrassing him. short and sweet!

[ladykailitha]

Well By Moonlight Part 15

Sorry for this being so late, I thought I set it up last night but hasn't been kind to me the last couple of days with the move.

This week we get all our old favorites back as I work through my backlog. The final chapter of Sweet Surrender will be out on Saturday.

This is another Nancy centric chapter as she tries to track down the wisp of her memories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

Nancy’s first stop was the library. Because as much as Steve’s comments galled her, she knew in his goofy, big-hearted way was right. She needed to find out about what happened fifteen years ago. Maybe even further than that. But fifteen years was a good place to start.

She drove into town. As strange as that was to think of, most of the pack had cars of some sort. Steve just preferred to travel in wolf form when he could and now she knew why.

She had met a couple of conspiracy nut jobs in her time as a reporter for their school newspaper, but there was something about this that felt bigger than it looked on the outside.

Nancy walked into the library and flashed her pack ID to the librarian. She was going to a specific part of the library, one only available to Domini, alphas, and Wayne Munson. The records of supernatural entities.

She strolled to a secure door that librarian unlocked from a button under her desk, and waited until the door swung open. It revealed a dark and winding stairway that with her enhanced vision she was able to traverse without issue.

She reached the bottom of the stair and smiled at the sight before her. Perched on a table like a gargoyle was Eddie, who was watching his uncle read. She cleared her throat.

Both men looked up at her in surprise.

“Nancy!” Eddie cried. “What brings you to the coolest place in the library?”

She raised her eyebrow at Wayne. “Is he supposed to be here?”

“Family. It’s allowed,” he smiled.

She neared the table to peer over Wayne’s shoulder. “What are you guys looking up?”

Eddie and Wayne shared a look.

“Steve told me everything,” Nancy said primly. “About Tommy, the attack on Patrick. His past. His fears about where all this is coming from.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked at her a moment. “Wayne and I are trying to find which supe is scentless or as near to as a supe can get. Why are you here?”

Nancy thought about it for a moment and had to concede that if Steve trusted them, she had no reason to not to as well.

“I’m looking into the circumstances of Steve’s fostering and the events leading up to that,” she said, coming over to sit down across from Wayne. “There is something that I only vaguely remember about that time that sticks in my mind and I’m hoping that by going through the records I can find something that sparks that memory.”

Wayne scratched his chin. “I’m working on the angle that whatever it was that attacked Patrick was the same one that killed Steve’s parents.”

Nancy blinked at him a moment and then pulled the book over to her so she could see what they were looking at more clearly.

“I could smell it,” she murmured. “So it’s something that werewolves can scent, but harder for vampires to do the same.”

She turned the book around as Eddie and Wayne shared a glance. She went flipping through the pages.

“There are a few supernatural beings that it could be,” she continued. “We tend to forget about the ones that don’t transform in someway. We think of werewolves, sirens, gwyllgi, selkie and the like. Even vampires have a higher form that they transform into. But there are creatures like the cat sìth and djinn that don’t transform. What you see is what you get.”

“You’re thinking that whatever this beastie is, is a cryptid?” Wayne asked, watching her flip the through the pages faster than his slow, methodic research.

Nancy spun the book around. On the page there were three such creatures. The sphinx, the chimera, and the manticore.

“My bet is on one of these,” she said curtly, standing up. “Now that you know what you’re looking for, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own research to do.”

Eddie and Wayne just exchanged eye rolls before Eddie got up and pulled out books on the beasts, splitting the pile in half and handing a stack to Wayne.

Nancy pulled out this huge portfolio and it landed on the table with a horrid thud, sending up a cloud of dust.

Eddie waved the air in front of his face, not that it would make him cough or irritate his eyes since becoming a vampire, but it was annoyance nonetheless.

“Don’t they have those things on microfiche?” he asked with a glare. They were there first and she was acting like they were bothering her.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I want to see the originals.”

It took everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes back at her and just buried his head into the research he was doing. He began jotting down things about the chimera that might fit the beast they were looking for.

Wayne had only gotten through two chapters of the sphinx when he shook his head.

“Not a sphinx,” he said gruffly. “They have far too many rules to want to ally with at cat sìth for anything short of an all out war between the fae.”

Eddie nodded, he had ruled them out based on DND rules, but didn’t want to say anything in front of Miss Snooty. He handed Wayne all the books he had on the manticore, his mind on the task in front of him.

Tat, tat, tat...

His pen flicked back and forth in his fingers as read about chimeras. There were different kinds but always a serpent tail, a feline body, and a capra head. The freaky thing breathed honest to god fire.

He thought about the beast that attacked Patrick, the one that Steve had apparently fought off by himself.

Neither of the two men had any indication that they had burn marks on them. Granted it was harder to tell with Steve. The transformation healed most wounds, going either direction. From wolf to human and vice versa.

Tat, tat, tat...

He looked up to see an exchange between Nancy and Wayne. She looked murderous, but Wayne’s steely glare kept her mouth shut. His glance darted back and forth between the two of them in confusion.

“His tapping is driving me crazy,” she finally hissed.

Wayne licked his lips nice and slow and leveled her with a look that could have curdled three generations cows’ of milk.

“And we were here first,” he said coldly. “You are here on a hunch. And probably a damn good one, but if we don’t find out what is stalking the streets of Hawkins, one of the pups could be next, so you will show him the respect you would give me.”

Her jaw that had been hanging open slammed shut.

Eddie snorted and tapped again just to annoy her. Nancy glared at him.

“She doesn’t respect you is the problem, Uncle Wayne. It’s why she wouldn’t let you watch their moon night. Something that if had been allowed wouldn’t have resulted in a brand new werewolf, the ire of the coven, and rampaging beast on the loose, because you would have been there to help Steve take it out.”

Wayne’s glare turned to ice. “Is that so?”

Nancy gulped. Hard. For all Wayne Munson’s down to earth looks and speech she had forgotten that he was a centuries old being with more experience in his left pinkie than she did in all her days on this earth.

She knew she didn’t have a real leg to stand on when she threatened Steve about either of these two vampires watching over her pack, but knew that he would go along with her because he didn’t understand pack pecking order.

But she held her chin high. “I have no reason to trust any vampire, but especially not a Bitten.”

“Do you know what happens when a vampire is turned?” Wayne asked her darkly.

“I know the technical aspects of it,” she replied haughtily. “But as I am not a vampire, I can only speak metaphorically.”

Again Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re not bitten anything. You’ve got werewolf blood in you going back generations on both sides. Your privilege is showing, princess.”

“It’s not like werewolf biting either,” Wayne said ignoring them both. “Steve asked Patrick permission to bite him. It didn’t always used to be that way, but it’s so ingrained in werewolf society that they aren’t aware that they can turn a person into a wolf, provided that person is an alpha. But it’s a soft process. A healing one.”

Nancy frowned, chewing on her lip. “And vampire turning isn’t? I thought Steve asked Billy why he didn’t heal Patrick.”

Wayne nodded. “Because vampire turning requires blood to be exchanged. To just heal Patrick all it would have taken is for Billy to drink his blood. The venom in their saliva has healing properties so that their victims don’t go tattling to everyone and anyone they’d been bit.”

“So even if Billy had merely tried to heal Patrick and get his allegiance in exchange for his life, he still would have sprang the trap set for him?” she asked.

Eddie nodded. “Whoever is pulling the strings on this whole thing knows a lot about vampires, just not enough about Billy.”

Wayne hummed his agreement. “This person is wily and cunning, but their plans keep getting foiled by Steve, so unless you want your alpha dead, you’ll let us work in peace.”

Nancy looked down at the folio in front of her a moment before speaking. “What’s so different about a vampire turning over a werewolf one?”

Wayne turned to Eddie. “You’ve gone through it more recently than I have. You can tell her if you want, but I won’t make you.”

Eddie set his jaw. “It’s like a fire consuming you. Burning out your very blood, your very breath. It literally kills you. That’s why born vampires look down on us, because we’re not living. We will never live again. But unlike Wayne, I chose this willingly. Not because I was going to die anyway. Which is how it usually goes. They turn you and then turn you loose.”

She blanched and her eyes went wide. “Why would they do that?”

“Because, Miss Wheeler,” Wayne said fiercely, “because they got too careless and needed to make a quick getaway. Turn a person into a vampire, send the poor crazed bastard out on the populous, and watch the destruction from afar.”

“‘Cause, if the town’s folk are chasing a rampaging beast,” Eddie sneered, “then they won’t look too closely at the lord who left in the middle of the night.”

Nancy could barely breathe. “That’s awful. Why would anyone willing chose to go through all that pain and torment?”

“Because I would rather die,” Eddie said solemnly, “and going through the agonies of undeath than lose the one person in my life who gave a damn for longer than my use to them.”

She looked between them both and then nodded. She went back to her work without further comment or complaint.

Eddie waited a few more moments to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything else. Then he turned to Wayne. “It’s not a chimera, either. It’s got to be a manticore.”

Wayne looked down at his pile of books, his expression ashen.

“May god save us all.”

~

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts

[bamsara]

“Pet goes missing” for the SL prompt! IMAGINE THE LITTLE KITTY AW

Moon-Centric | Wordcount: 1,252 | A03 Version

(Contains some light flirting)

The kitten has been gone for about a day now.

It was an accident. Someone left the door open while bringing in groceries (that you had bought) and maybe didn't see something small and quick run out from underneath their feet (there were bags in the way) and didn't notice until a certain animatronic is filling up the kitten's food bowl before scouring the house with special eyes and very much on edge when he cannot find the little friend, no matter how you try to console him.

(Which isn't long, because you're already putting on your shoes and jacket from when you first noticed the absence of the newest addition to your home, as fast as you can manage because there's a robot with three limbs out the door ahead of you.)

Which brings you here, in the fridged cold of midnight out on the streets, rubbing your hands together and blowing visable breath clouds as your animatronic friend crawls on top of fences and light poles in his search.

Moon is clad in thrift store sweatpants and a t-shirt while you're bundled to the max, and his lack of need for warmth is something you envy right now. "She's probably where she stayed before Gramps found her and took her to us." You breathe into your hands as you walk, a audible chatter in your teeth. "We could start there?"

"No. Damp there." Moon crawls like a spider, uncaring about his form in the outside world. He misses his wire, but he has no problem getting to high vantage points; something that comes in handy when on the search for a kitten in the dead of night. "She'll be somewhere warmer. Not on concrete."

"...Like a exhaust pipe of a car, or a dumpster. Got it." You sigh. With this cold, it's worrying for the kitten, fur or not. It doesn't take a scientist to know that Moon too knew this detail. You would only hope that your searching would not end up fruitless. Or worse; tragedy.

The roads you walk are empty, save for cars that pass by every twenty minutes or so. The animatronic is probably using infared vision to find her, judging by how quick he scoured the bushes and is now crawling on all fours to look underneath the cars parked on the side of the road. Your frown deepens, worry lines sinking in. "Hey, don't stress out. She might find her way back home, too."

Moon doesn't look at you, but makes a noise of aknowledgement.

"We'll find her. If not tonight, we can put out missing pet posters in the morning." Hiking your jacket to cover your neck, you curl into the warmth and look out onto the dark street. It's wet with recent sleet, and the reflection of still lights feel warm in contrast to the air. You sigh, turning back to Moon. "Maybe if we put a shirt and food out, we can-HEY, Put the car down, Moon! Don't pick that-put it down!"

Moon has the backend of a parked car lifted upwards a foot or so off the ground, his head swivels to frown at you in disagreement, but the robot settles back tires back on the pavement quietly and crawls (yes, crawls) on all fours away from the street, onto the sidewalk and up on the fence where he stays crouched. "Just looking."

"You're already crawling. It's not hard to crouch a bit more to check under the cars." You sniff, and see a runny nose in your future. "Don't get us arrested."

Moon's gaze is red and focused, darting to and fro as you walk and briefly turning to you as you round the corner, pausing. "Cold?" He asks, and continues before you can answer. "Home. Go."

"Not a good idea to have you out here by yourself." You snort. A puff of air comes out of your nose as you do, and the animatronic's head tilts at the sight. "Don't want you lifting cars or doing...I don't know, Grand Theft Auto to find the cat."

Moon stands to his full height on the fence, survalience mode returning, scanning. "Cold's not good for you. Or her."

"I'll live-." Your response is cut off as his hand comes up, signaling to be quiet.

"Hush." He hums something quiet, coiling into someone's backward, halfway leaning down the side of the fence and calling out into the darkness. "Pssp pssp pssp pssp pssp."

You try to look over the fence and into the yard, but the space behind the wood is dark and there's nothing you can make out besides fog and some foliage. "Moon?"

"Baby." He says. You raise a brow and there's a moment of pause before he continues. He wears a comfortable grin. "Cat baby. Not you, baby."

"Stop it."

"No."

"Is the kitten over there?" You crane your neck a little further, listening. You don't hear any meowing or anything rustling, and there's a barrier in the way otherwise you'd investigate yourself. "This is someone's backyard, it's kinda trespassing-"

"Says the trespasser." Moon scoffs, and suddenly without warning, leaps from the fence into the darkness.

You wait there awkwadly on the sidewalk, curling further into your jacket and listening to the crikets. You're only alone for a few moments though, a blur shoots back into your vision and Moon reappears, crouched atop the wooden fence, gripping for balance with one hand hard enough it splinters the wood; in the other hand something is held close to his chest.

The kitten is held to his t-shirt, looking blearly eyed, a little doozy but unharmed. It's mouth opens in a tiny yawn and it's limbs stretch out in Moon's palm, and said animatronic's happy face faulters a little in a deadpan at the realization that he just woke the kitten up from sleep.

"The kitten!" You exclaim, smiling. Moon hops off the fence, careful as the kitten seems to be coming to her senses. Without asking, he pulls open the front of your jacket at the top, unzipping it a bit and putting the kitten at your collarbone. Your arms and hands come up to hold it there, keeping it close to your chest where the warmth is the strongest. She's chilly, but not bone-cold. You sigh in relief. "She must have found a little shelter back there somewhere."

"Not enough." He zips up your jacket as quick as he undone it, just where the kitten's head sticks out. She looks a bit startled, not alarmed, but a tiny mew sounds out from your neck at the realization of her holders. Moon brings a finger down to brush against her head. "Home, now."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Spinning on your heel, you start the brisk walk back towards the apartment. Moon is faster besides you than he is behind you, not following along on the fence but hunched over to your side, walking in long strides with you.

A brisk wind makes you shiver, but you're careful to protect the kitten from the cold's bite. "She needs a bath. There's muddy gunk on her legs." You sigh. "You know, a hot bath myself wouldn't sound half bad."

Moon moves to your other side, breaking the wind's gust on you and hoisting an arm around your shoulders. Judging by the way he was pacing, he wanted you out of the cold, and probably was going to force you to sleep the second you stepped through the doors. "Later."

[cod-dump]

What if Ghost found a (pregnant) calico cat during leave and keeps her? What would he name her?

Fur Baby

Ghost centric fic

___

Ghost always did prefer animals over people. Words meant nothing while actions were everything. He could respect that. Animals didn't go behind his back to hurt him. People did. Though he loved animals, he never had a pet. Mostly because he didn't trust himself to care for it properly or accidentally take his emotions out on it. He didn't want to cause harm to a creature that was there to love him. So, he never gotten a pet. Never planned to get one, either.

But then he stumbled upon Misty.

Ghost rarely enjoyed leave. He didn't have family to visit and spend time with, had a hard time keeping hobbies, and generally hated being out of work. He was bored, on edge, and honestly lonely. His flat didn't feel like home, just a place to sleep and hide away. He only ever ventured out to get food or drinks and other household necessities before hiding away again.

One stormy evening he ran out to grab some drinks when he noticed something under a car. Curiosity got the better of him and Ghost kneeled to have a look. He was surprised to see a cat, soaked from the rain. Her eyes were wide with fear and Ghost felt his heart break at the sight. He tried to reach out to touch her but the cat darted further under the car. Ghost stood and continued to the corner store. The entire time he was in the liquor isle he thought about that cat. He couldn't focus and ended up leaving the isle. Ghost wandered the store for a bit until he found the pet section.

He was very happy to find that the cat was still under that car when he came back. The rain had calmed down to a light drizzle and the chill was as fierce as it was earlier.

"Hey, little girl."

The cat was pretty far under the car, staring at him with caution. Ghost reached into his grocery bag and pulled out a can of wet food. He cracked it up and slid it as far as he could under the car before stepping back and waiting. He was kneeling by the car for a good ten minutes before the cat crawled over to the wet food, curious. Then she smelled it and started to hungerly devour it. She acted like she was starving. She had a lot of fur but the rain smoothed her down enough for him to see that she was very round.

Ghost inched closer to her as she ate, hearing a purr come from her.

"Poor girl... You wanna come with me?"

It took a bit of coaxing (and a fuck ton of treats) to get the cat to come out from under the car and let Ghost pick her up. When he finally was able to get her in his arms, he tucked her into his jacket and immediately headed back to his flat. The first thing he did was find a warm towel and dry off the cat as best he could. She was shaking as he rubbed the towel on her, trying to get all the excess moisture possible before wrapping her in another, dryer, towel.

Ghost sat in the living room, listening to this cat purr as he held her to keep her warm. The next morning he took her to the vet to have her looked at and to see if she was chipped. The vet took one look at her and told Ghost she was very pregnant. And after the vet told him she wasn't chipped, he decided he was going to keep her. It didn't take him long to find a name for her: Misty.

Within a week his house was filled with cat related items. He went out and bought the most expensive cat food with the highest reviews. He looked into cat pregnancy and set up a box with fleece blankets in his closet (as he's come to find that his new companion enjoyed hiding in there). Dove into forums to see how he could best assist Misty during labor and kitten care. Ghost tried to stay in the flat during the next couple of weeks so he could be there for Misty when she went into labor. And, of course, when he finally went out to grab something, he returned to mewling kittens.

He was so excited, he couldn't contain it and ended up spamming pictures of Misty and her four babies to Price.

Price: I love how you send me pictures with no context

A week later Price dropped by in a surprise visit. After a couple pictures sent to the group chat both Soap and Gaz were jealous beyond belief that Price and Ghost were playing with kittens while they were working.

[a41-i-finally-caved]

Outer Banks Fic List

Here's a lil glimpse at where my head's at, fic-wise. Unlinked stuff is still unposted but being worked on in some capacity. Feel free to ask questions or send suggestions/requests...I won't ever promise anything, but I won't be a jerk either! Titles, summary, and content are all subject to change :)

Marked Up Little!JJ and JB find a marker outside the principal's office

UNNAMED Post S1 into S2 AU. Topper and JJ accidentally and very reluctantly bond over losing their Most Important Person. Featuring a spiraling JJ, a John B who doesn't have his friend's phone numbers memorized, and HEAPS of unrequited love/pining. (happy ending tho)

If You Can't Say It My self-catharsis fic. READ TAGS PLEASE Epilogue is coming, just need some more time <3

The Roadtrip Fic Where Wakanda and I collab to turn JJ into the runaway bride of his dreams

No Pogue-on-Pogue Macking The origins of the phrase...aka that time JJ thought he and John B should 'practice kissing' so they'd have a shot with Kie. Like most of JJ's plans, this backfires spectacularly. (I might expand this into a series?? With other Pogue-on-Pogue ships and such, but keep 'em all loosely connected. We'll see. Honestly wanna see how things shake out with S4 before I jump in there.)

Supernatural AU Super campy, super dramatic, super fun: think Teen Wolf lmao. But Kie as a Selkie, Pope as the latest in a long line of Alchemists, Sarah's a Fae, JJ's a total Failwolf, and JB has a little bit of Black Cat luck from his dad's side... oh and that whole dragon thing. (ALSO CLEO...somewhere. Somehow. Still need to figure out how to write her :) )

Accidental Baby Acquisition AU In which Sheriff Sue Peterkin falls into this trope... only it's no accidental baby, it's two foulmouthed Pogue teenaged boys ;P

Fumbling S3E8: After the party, after Topper, after Sarah, John B and JJ make it back to the Chateau. John B decides to rebound, and JJ? Well, JJ's never been good at sayin' no to John B's stupid.

5 Times Ricky Tried to Help JJ and 1 Time He Actually Did What it says on the tin lmao

UNNAMED S1E9 missing scene. The overnight in the Carrera's car, very Js coded

Seabird Collection:

Way To Know (progress report at the end :) ) JJ-centric, canon adjacent, hella long fic that digs pretty heavy into...well, a lot of things, but mostly PTSD.

UNNAMED "He missed the year before that, John B’s fault, and he had to deal with the scraping for months. Alone, because JJ’d told John B that he never wanted to see him again." Yep it's that. The same fight the Js are healing from in Stupid Drunk Person Stuff.

Three Weddings A wedding happens for tax break reasons... JJ discovers they pay taxes.

Held JB and JJ get into a lil competition...

JJ On The Mainland The time when DCS takes JJ away from his dad, referenced in Chapter 32. Also covering the "He didn’t talk for six months, Pope!" aftermath.

The Four Times John B Got Mad At JJ On the tin lmao

Stupid Drunk Person Stuff That Time At The Beach from Chapters 26/27 JJ tries tequila and gets touchy, happy, and absolutely wasted

Way To Know Progress - Chapter 44

This one might take more like a week and a half, rather than the under one week speeds I've been doing, to give me a chance to lay the groundwork for the last 11 chapters.

[urfavslav]

dialogue is from the movie un homme qui dort, narrated in english by thee shelly duvall. I changed a few lines, bc they wouldn't fit him other wise. cw: if u squint you can see the dissociation mentions. character/kakucho centric piece

You stay in your room, not eating, not reading, hardly moving.

It's been eight days since the horrific battle between tenjiku and toman, kakucho hasn't moved since he got discharged from the hospital, currently lying on the floor watching the ceiling fan spin slowly with the breeze of his open window.

You watch the basin, the bookcase, your knees, your eyes in the cracked mirror. The cup. The light switch.

His eyes slowly drag around his small 'apartment' room until they catch on the small sink. The one that he would use after every major fight, cleaning his worse wounds and injuries.

They catch on the book case, filled with books he enjoyed and ones he traded with Izana, littered with little annotations and highlights. Scattered sheet music with small notes of wear and tear. Records and cd's he had collected over time.

His heterochromic eyes catch on his knees that wobble every so often, threatening to fall or slide down from their bent position as if he were doing sit-ups. The cracked mirror that sits above his sink, the one that you can barely call a sink, the mirror that has taken his rage and now seems to be staring back at him. One red eye and one ashen. Is he sure they belong to him?

The cup that was filled with tea, how old is it? Ran got him this for his birthday, he should probably drink that tea, lest it gets dusty or stale, alas it's already cold. right? The light switch he never uses; getting up at the crack of dawn to work out, spending most of the day with the gang, coming back when he's had his fill of sociability, ready to eat and lie down.

You listen to street sounds, to the dripping faucet on the landing, to the noises your neighbor makes, having a coughing fit, his kettle whistling.

The later in the day it gets he hears the noise increase in volume, cars trying to get home, kids getting off school, sirens, doors opening and closing, cats, life goes on. life goes on and all he can do is observe in his state.

You follow on the ceiling the winding line of a thin crack. A flies pointless wandering. The perhaps calculate progression of shadows.

Kakucho's drowsy lidded eyes follow the small crack on his wall, leading from the door frame to the ceiling, a mere 15 centimeters. His brain finding anything and everything else to focus on. The fly that wanders in, making a few circles in his room before buzzing away.

You are 14 years old. You have 32 teeth, 3 shirts and 8 socks. 77,000 yen a month to survive on. A few books you no longer read, a few records you no longer listen to. You don't want to remember anything else. You sit, and all you want is to wait. Just wait until there is nothing more to wait for.

He feels dissociated from himself, his beloved hobbies now seem distant and unattractive. Why does everything remind him of Izana? The music that sits, collecting dust on his shelf. The shirts they bought together, although a measly errand, he treasured moments like those.

You don't see your friends. You don't answer the door. You don't go down and get your mail. You don't return the books you borrowed from the library. You don't visit your parents.

He disregards the hundreds of missed calls from his friends. He ignores the knocks that come and slowly fade away when he fails to answer the door. He sees the envelopes that get stuck in the mail slot. He knows his books are overdue, the pile mocking him near the door. He misses visiting his parents. He misses living.

★ all works belong to @urfavslav , do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. thank you !

[thepoetryguyyy]

The Cat

I wonder about you at times

the same way I wonder whether that dead cat is still on the side of the road

whether anyone moved it

or if the corpse is still rotting on the freeway

the same passing glance that owes disrespect to that which you ignore

the same contempt of the stomach churning sight of roadkill

guts out, stained pavement

crushed bones, squished organs

isn't it disgusting? isn't it an eyesore?

but I won't be the one to move it, even if I was the one to hit it

I can't get my hands dirty, I can't sully a towel

not with the filth just lying there

letting itself submit to the buzzing of flies

if it didn't want to be hit, what was it doing there?

didn't it know better?

it was in the way, why should the car swerve?

it should've known the car was coming

is it that kind of contempt for life, big and small

that lends itself to this kind of thinking

that not even a beloved pet

is safe from self-centric criticism?

will I eventually be that cat

my spirit on standby as I wait for someone

to move my body

to give me a shred of dignity in death

or will I be the driver, fleeing the scene?

[chogiwow]

your memory, my love | lee minho

pairing: lee know x gn! Reader

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

wc: 8.4k

au: 25 lives au; based on poem '25 lives' by tongari.

consists of: college au, office au, hurt-comfort au, spies au, hospital au, high school au, established relationship au, unrequited love au, meet cute au, war au, tattoo artist au, forbidden love au, break-up au, strangers au etc. to name a few :’D

warnings: blood, sickness, death, car accident, guns, lack of communication, suggestiveness, lots of kissing, mentions of food, mentions of not eating, fights. pls lmk if i missed any :>

a/n: minho centric, mostly from minho’s pov. was this just an excuse to do 25 small drabbles and link them together without any cohesiveness? yes.

fun fact: poppies are flowers which are known to grow on battlefields, amongst rubble and decay. just a tiny tidbit because it holds significance in the story later.

when i saw you first, i didn’t know i already knew you.

minho doesn’t remember a lot when it comes to his childhood.

not the first day of school, not his first tooth falling out, not the first time he ever fell and learnt that some scars are permanently ingrained on your skin in dark patches even after twenty five years. not the first time he cried, laughed, walked, danced or sang.

he can’t remember most of his firsts from that phase of his life, but the later stages remain in his mind; some through a lens of grainy filters and some of them pristine. he remembers the grandma on the train from seven years ago who handed him a rosy apple with a broken smile, he remembers his student orientation in university and he remembers how he met his cat for the first time by the sidewalk, snuggled under a cardboard cover and crying.

he remembers some strangers who manage to leave a lasting impression on his mind and yet he can’t remember the people he passed by on the streets this morning while on his way to work.

yet, his gaze only briefly flickers at your figure passing by his cubicle, your face partly hidden behind the white spots that dance in front of his eyes, and he’s almost certain he knows you. or has seen you before.

he chases your figure as you disappear in the corridor, away from the IT department and he only finds out later that you didn’t even work in the same department. in fact, you had only joined a week prior and from what he can recall, he’s never seen you nor heard of you.

it’s incredibly frustrating and minho finds himself struggling to keep his balance on the thin line separating the vices of recalling and remembering.

he’s caught sight of you since then, and as much as he’s tried to place you in his memory, find a you shaped puzzle hole, it hasn’t been fruitful. occasionally, he would find you in the cafeteria – on days they would serve corn soup – and sometimes by the coffee cart at the intersection minho preferred over the office cuppa when he wanted to get away from the establishment.

it’s three months later, on the second week – minho remembers clearly, your flushed face peeks out from the thick green scarf around your neck – you’re both waiting for the bus home. it’s past seven, way beyond minho’s working hours but he was adamant on using this last week to finish up pending work so he could come back after christmas to a fresh start.

you’ve huddled yourself to a corner of the bench, pressing yourself close to the glass screen while you wait. minho can’t stop his gaze from finding you through the cold air, though nothing stands between you two. should he go up to you?

it startles him when you meet his eyes and he looks away hastily, a sudden warmth crawling up his neck on being caught.

“hello,” you call out and minho whips his head around so fast, he might as well have ended up with a broken neck.

you stare up at him shyly, waiting for a response. in fact you don’t know why you greeted him in the first place, he probably doesn’t even recognise you.

“hi,” he says, and his voice is soft. it makes your chest swell inexplicably, a certain warmth in his hidden kindness you would later find out.

“i’m (y/n), we work in the same company,” you gesture vaguely in the direction of your company. you feel more nonsensical by the moment.

“i’m minho…and i know that.” minho tries to smile and not let on the fact that he was a creep who had indeed noticed you. well, minho wouldn’t like to believe himself to be a creep, but if he had been looking for you unconsciously…that was on his wandering mind.

yet this feeling was…unfathomable. the more he observed you without trying to be a freak, the more he grew attached to the familiarity in your face. it’s when he spots the smallest mole right above your lip – so small that he would have missed it, it’s like he had been searching for it since the beginning – he finds himself suddenly comfortable in your presence.

was this what people called ‘meeting your soulmate’?

minho isn’t sure what it was, he still isn’t, but he can attest to being the happiest when he’s around you. it seemed like you were of the same opinion, kissing him on the cheek three years later before walking off to your respective departments.

the second time, i knew.

you dyed your hair red.

it was bright, almost blinding, and minho’s wash basin was stained with the same dye.

“guess what,” you smile from where you stood, cowering playfully behind the door. red drops of water drip down your short hair andonto your neck, disappearing into the white towel strung across and dissolving into a diluted pool of light pink in the fabric.

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that my partner is now a traffic signal?”

“oh come on!” you thrust your hand out, nuzzling your chin into his chest and looking up at him through wide eyes and an innocent smile. minho loves it when you do that; look up at him like he’s your entire universe. he swallows the smile threatening to burst out of his lips.

“do i look good?”

“are you going to clean up the basin?”

another drop of red slithers down your wet hair and falls on minho’s shirt.

“you don’t like it,” you pout, pushing yourself away from him but he’s quick to pull you into a hug, pressing his chin on top of your wet head. his neck is wet, but he doesn’t care.

“of course i like it.”

“you do?” 

“i do.”

“i think you are very whipped for me.”

minho can feel you smile into his chest. you were so simple, and he was so in love..

“don’t act like you don’t love it.” he seals this moment with a kiss, heart swelling when you smile and pull him closer.

“i love you.”

loving you became so easy, i didn’t realise you wouldn’t love me back every time.

he’s different, you say.

minho begs to differ because you’re always saying that only to end up like he predicted. it’s not like he likes being accurate about it, but who can blame him for not trying to stop you?

in this life, you love people. and you love them so hard, with so much passion, minho finds himself watching quietly and grieving that you would never love him like that. it’s almost cruel, he thinks, but he’s spent so much time with you in love, he never thought that he would have to live through a life where he couldn’t show it.

he watches from the sidelines, waiting to speak up but every time you end up with someone else before he could.

“come on minho, i swear you’ll like hyunjin.”

you‘ve been badgering him for a week to grab dinner with your new boyfriend. mino retorts every time with no motivation to meet someone who would probably end up breaking your heart again, but the voice in his head tells him that it wasn’t the real reason.

he knows hyunjin, they’ve met before. he also knows hyunjin is a good guy. so when he says he doesn’t want to meet him, it’s more for his sake – he wants you to be happy, but he doesn’t want to see you happy with someone who will genuinely love you back.

he’s being selfish, he knows.

“minho, please?” your voice softens, and minho knows that you’re not doing it on purpose like you do when you want him to buy you coffee or order your favourite takeout or watch the same movie for the hundredth time on movie nights. you truly want him to meet hyunjin, maybe even like him; assure you that this was certainly the one.

minho doesn’t want to do either of those but your imploring eyes plead to him silently. he gives in, because it’s so easy to love you.

dinner turns out to be a pleasant affair and hyunjin is anything but the worst of what minho had pictured and manifested. he was a decent human being, enjoyable and certainly kind. and his eyes…they followed you and mimicked your smile lovingly. he knows that look; he’s been in love with you too. he is in love with you.

“listen hyunjin,” minho starts once you’ve left the table to go to the washroom, “i think you’re a great guy.”

“am i going to get the talk now?” hyunjin lets out a nervous laugh.

“no, i’m pretty sure you’re aware of that talk. but i want you to listen to me and listen carefully,” minho breathes in shakily, fisting up his fingers under the table, “(y/n) is my best friend and i love them a lot. i want you to love them wholeheartedly too. they don’t like their coffee too bitter and hate eating peas. they are hard working but tend to neglect their health in lieu, so take care of them, okay? don’t take them to the poppy exhibition during spring, their allergies act up the most during that time, even if they tell you that they can endure it – they can't and end up sniffling all season. they have a green scarf and it’s very dear to them, but it barely does anything when it’s too cold. layer them up in another scarf because they’ll get upset if you tell them to change. never let them order the spiciest thai takeaway, it makes them sick the next day. they love watching howl’s moving castle, it’s their favourite movie – never argue against it because well, there’s a ninety nine percent chance you’ll end up watching it anyway.”

a shuddering breath escapes minho’s lips as hyunjin listens attentively.

“don’t ever hurt them, okay?”

hyunjin nods earnestly, about to reply when you slide into your chair with a smile, looping your arm around hyunjin’s and the boy instantly melts, mirroring your smile. an understanding look passes between minho and hyunjin and the former is assured that he understood.

minho watches later, standing by the restaurant as you and hyunjin walk away into the night.

maybe in his next life, minho thinks, that will be him.

but i’m happy as long as you are.

the screen crackles, freezing for a second on your smiling face and minho frowns.

“hello, minho? can you hear me?” your voice comes on, ringing out pleasantly in his dark room. the city below him glitters with lights, honking cars distorted against the glass windows.

the video unfreezes and you’re there on the other side, grinning widely. it’s infectious and minho forgets about the exhaustion creeping into his bones. the time is 3 am, he should be asleep, he has an early meeting tomorrow, but this is you. and you’re seas apart, so the least he can do is grant you the shitty video call.

“yes, i can hear you. why have you called me at the ass o’clock, you spawn of satan?”

you know you can hear the smile in his voice, if not see him clearly illuminated only by the city lights.

“love you too,” you snort, “but guess what?”

you sound excited, and he can feel himself relaxing at the sight of your big smile and jumpiness. something good must have happened.

“i’m getting married!”

you bring up your left hand and without a doubt, a silver band rests around your ring finger. it glitters when it catches the light from your bedside lamp. your smile is infectious, minho reminds himself as he forces his lips to remain curled up.

“chan proposed this evening and oh my gosh minho, you won’t believe what he did–”

minho doesn’t quite remember much of what you said, only that you looked like you were on the top of the world, you were marrying the love of your life and that minho was invited and you wanted him to officiate the wedding.

minho doesn’t even consider this cruel anymore. the universe could hardly be called that when it treated you so kindly and with so much love.

he officiates the wedding in a field of poppies – a spring wedding – a small number of people gathered to celebrate the occasion and as he watches you walk down the aisle while your cousin plays a beautiful piece on the piano.

hand in hand with your husband, beautiful and glowing and so happy that he feels like he’s drowning in soft puffs of cloud at the look of joy on your face, he sends a silent thanks to the universe.

because i’m glad you’re here, by my side, through thick and thin.

"minho," you groan, dragging yourself across the rubble to where he lay on the ground, sprawled across rocks and ashes with his head resting against a decapitated shield.

"minho," you're barely able to keep yourself alive as you call out to the man, "wake up, love."

your whisper falls like the ashes you were sparales across, clothes singed and tattered, face bleeding and limbs tired.

the grey dust carries your whisper across him, his eyes cracking open to a white sky and your beautiful face.

your lips crack and bleed when you smile at him, eyes tearing up when they find his.

"are you okay?" minho croaks through the dust in his throat.

you nod weakly, breath faltering when the pain in your chest pricks you like needles.

"you did a great job." you say quietly.

around you, people started waking up, the ones that were left behind at least, by mercy or by luck or sheer willpower. the war was over. the will to cheer out is quietened by silent mourning.

minho feels you quiver by his side and pulls you closer weakly. your head rests against his arm, dreary and tired.

your hands are rough across his cheeks, colder by the second but comforting all the same.

"i'm so glad," he whispers. he doesn't mention your bleeding head or your heaving chest. he lets your warm tears fall on his skin, washing away the dust and grime and missing with your blood that drips down your head. your breath falters again, his weak limbs clutch you with his leftover strength.

you press your chapped lips against his neck.

"i love you."

minho's gentle confession receives no response.

i appreciate it a bit more, your quiet presence and comforting hands.

"minho, relax, i'm almost at your apartment so open the door for me, yeah?"

minho woke up in the middle of the night gasping for air. he had a terrible dream and you died in it. he scrambles across his bed, cursing the low battery in his phone and calling you first thing, the 8% of his battery be damned.

now you're saying that you're almost at his apartment. which means you crossed a whole two blocks in the middle of the night just because he called you in a frenzied panic. it’s too late to slip on his shoes and rush out of his house, because he’s extremely scared something bad might happen to you – he knows it’s his past life, and yet he cannot ignore the way it feels like a premonition – because you’re already ringing his doorbell.

the door opens with such abruptness, it makes you jump out of your skin but you don’t waste time in pulling minho into a hug when he stares at you with teary eyes. he’s never been this vulnerable before and you’ve never seen him so distraught.

he melts into your arms the second you hold him, as if checking to ensure that you were legit. that you were here, alive.

and if he tells you that he loves you late into the night while you sit by his side, running your fingers through his hair to help him fall asleep, he’s not lying and he means it from the very bottom of his heart.

“i feel like this was a ruse to get me here,” you chuckle sleepily, eyes fluttering and fingers slowing their pace against his hair.

minho simply gazes at you quietly in the dark, his throat seizing up when your fingers trace against his cheeks and rest there. your hands are warm, not cold. you were here.

“you’re being serious.” you remark, “is it because of the nightmare? you know i won’t leave you right?”

it wasn’t a nightmare, it was real. but how does minho tell you that? so he nods, because he does love you.

you kiss the corner of his mouth. his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids and his head.

“i love you too, minho. a lot.”

your lips on his lips, your warm hands across his tear stained cheeks. your heart beating against his chest.

but i hold you still, close to my heart, even when you’re not here.

minho looks for a familiar face through the blur of faces.

he searches for you for years till his last breath. but he accepts this time, that you would only reside in the deep crevices of his heart where he would etch your memories and learn to live without your presence.

he’ll learn to live without you.

and sometimes we’ll miss each other by a year.

high school, the most important time in a student’s life.

minho did not expect much to change from last year, he’s always been on the grind and stuck to his college preparations religiously. but something about the way all his relatives and friends kept reminding him of the importance of doing it right or losing in life, had him worrying in anxiety.

“if i don’t get into a university in seoul, my parents are gonna kill me,” jisung sighs beside him, doodling on his maths workbook.

minho hums, solving the equations unlike his deskmate who seemed least concerned about his self proclaimed threats.

“dude, are you seriously studying on the first day of school? lame…”

minho doesn’t pay attention, not now when he’s adamant on ignoring the label of being a nerd for the sake of a better future. he’ll find out later, when him and jisung get into the same university in seoul, that he didn’t need to try so hard all the time and that he deserved a break too.

jisung leaves during lunch, skipping to the cafeteria, complaining about how chemistry seemingly sucked the soul out of him. minho hangs back to go through his notes one last time and pack away his belongings.

he notices the scratchy lines on the wooden desk, it’s previous owner’s initials carved into it.

‘L/N Y/N, you can do it!’

minho runs a finger over the name, his heart suddenly hollow.

jisung hollers from the hallway and minho leaves for lunch.

later, he’ll have scratched his name under yours and added:

“hope you made it”.

there will be times i need to watch you from afar, but knowing you’re here makes me feel safe.

you play so beautifully, stringing your bow with such emotion, minho feels himself tear up.

the auditorium is quiet, holding their collective breaths as you reach the final part and remain still till the last tunes of the strings fades away.

minho claps along with everyone as you wave to the audience. the bouquet of flowers in your hands, you bow thankfully, retrieving your violin and leaving the stage. the smattering applause doesn’t cease till the announcer comes up.

minho follows you along the stage, gracefully making your way behind the wings before disappearing. you’re so far away. minho was but a simple commoner, lost in a faceless crowd for you.

he takes his time walking through the crowd that dissipates after the performance,the last one to hang back and read the brochures for next week’s performances. he’s so engrossed in reading the brochure, sitting on one of the benches in the lobby, he doesn’t notice you until a multiple bouquets of flowers quite literally drops onto his lap.

startled, his eyes flick up and you’re right there, standing in front of him, apologising as you make to retrieve the flowers.

“i’m so sorry,” you say, clearly struggling to hold your bag and violin case and balance the bouquet in your arms all at the same time. your black outfit glitters like diamonds up close, and if that doesn’t put minho in a daze, your tired smile turned upon him does.

“oh that’s a good performance,” you state, pointing at the brochure in his hands as you bend to pick up your flowers. as if only coming to senses when you’re on the ground, does minho scramble to help you out, his cheeks flushing.

you’ve always been pretty, but it’s been so long since he’s seen you so up close. you smile and he’s suddenly awestruck.

“you should watch the show on thursday,” you state, finally collecting everything in your hands in a bundle. minho hands you the last flower and your fingers brush.

“i will,” he promises, “and…i loved your performance tonight.”

you chuckle abashedly, hiding a shy grin behind your hand.

“thank you,” you mumble and minho bites his lips, swallowing the smile of adoration.

you pick out a rose from the bouquet with some difficulty, handing it out to him.

“thank you for coming tonight,” your shy smile is endearing itself, but so are your cheeks flushing when he accepts the rose. your fingers brush again, and maybe minho lingers for a second longer than he should. than he could.

minho keeps the dried petals of the rose inside an old journal.

but it’s always better when we’re together, because with you i'm fearless.

“left wing’s armed, take the third right straight down the hall and go into the utility room.”

the earpiece crackles inside minho’s ears, your instructions clear and brisk, a last moment unfortunate encounter you were saving his ass from. for better measure, he cocks his guns and keeps it ready just in case as he hurries down the hall and promptly shuts himself inside the utility room.

digging through a pile of janitor’s clothes, minho strips down and starts changin, your voice clear in his ear when you speak again.

“wait there, there’s three men with guns headed down all three halls. do not expose yourself,” you warn, predictably accurate as minho scoffs.

“min,” you growl into your mic, assessing the situation through the hacked cctvs, “don’t you dare come out of that damn room until i tell you to.”

“i’ve got a flight to catch babe, can’t have three nutjobs delaying me.”

“i’m catching the same flight as you!” your retort is an angry outburst. you’re honestly sick of him disobeying your instructions and doing whatever he likes. you’re both supposed to be a team, but he’s more intent on being a brat.

“you can’t get delayed either then,” he says, and the last he allows you to say on that matter, because next thing you know, he’s out of the room in some janitor clothes and a huge trolley. the man with the gun is suspicious, you can tell, approaching minho doubtfully and you hold your breath as you watch quietly, almost as if he would be caught if you inhaled too loudly.

as if on cue, yells break out and minho charges towards the man, ramming his trolley into him and sending him flying. the gun misfires and almost misses minho.

“fuck!” you hiss loudly, on the edge of your seat. there’s nothing you can do from here.

“have i ever told you,” minho struggles with a faltering breath as he tackles another man onto the ground, “how hot you sound when you curse like that?”

the third man doesn’t take too long to go down, giving minho a bit of a hard time too as he does, and you’re secretly happy that he did. serves him right, that brat.

fifteen minutes later, you’re both speeding towards the airport, minho changing in the back of the rundown van which you were going to abandon before leaving while you drove, stubborn on ignoring minho’s attempts at apologising.

“come on, don’t be mad. here, i got you a present,” he says.

you ignore him yet again, but find it hard to turn a blind eye at whatever it was he was shoving right under your nose. glancing briefly, you find a sparkling ring in the palm of his hand.

you silently contemplate whether you should accept it.

“come on,” minho whines again, pulling your left hand away from the steering wheel at the next red light and promptly slipping on the ring on your ring finger. it sits snugly around your skin, a small ruby carved like a rose glittering when it catches light.

before the light can turn green again, minho holds your palm up to his mouth and kisses it gently. his lips burn on your skin like a searing scar and you struggle to keep the heat from crawling up your neck.

“that looks nice on you,” he says and you quietly accept it.

i know loving you is easy, but it still scares me sometimes.

minho knows you can find someone better than him.

he knows you can drop him whenever you want. his love comes easily, but he’s had his share of losing and letting go. it’s tamed the ferocity of his affection, his quiet longing is like a suffering under his hidden vulnerability.

he hates it when you’re upset at him. and you’re upset at him now, shutting yourself in your room to work; not eating, not talking, not even responding to him.

“(y/n), please talk to me.”

you’ve finally come out of your room after hours and minho has been waiting patiently but anxiously, pondering and rehearsing on what to say. except, when he sees you, all his words disappear like ashes in the wind, leaving him remorseful and regretting what had transpired.

“i’m sorry,” he croaks out, head bowing down shamefully, “i shouldn’t have made you feel that way.”

your forgiveness is, if anything, like fuel to the fire burning inside him. you shouldn't forgive him so easily! but you do, and minho is certain that his fear will engulf him in its flames.

except, he hears your voice, clear and calming through the inferno, a cool balm across his searing chest.

“i’m sorry too,” you whisper, hands cradling his face as you pull him close, “i know it’s hard for you, i promise, i love you. no matter what.”

your words are like a soft breeze, pleasant and tranquil. your lips mold against his and he finds himself giving in to you – to your bodies melting into each other and breaths tangling like butterflies swirling around in a whirlwind.

minho learns yet again, to love and to let it burn him. he didn’t mind the flames licking his cheeks or singing his skin, you would be there at the end of the day to hold him close and heal his wounds.

with you the pain of trying was worth it.

because there are times that love can hurt.

minho points his gun at your head.

you’re tired, watching him through your hood but you’re smiling through your bloodied lips.

“are you really doing to do that?”

no. minho won’t, he can’t.

‘you already know,” he seethes through gritted teeth, tightening his hold around the gun.

“your answer, or you?”

you set flame through his body and it seeps through his veins like melting lava. loving you can sometimes really hurt, especially when he’s holding your life in his hands. he wonders whether it was worth the trouble of remembering all his past lives.

the clouds rumble and the skies start crying. he burns brighter, hotter; engulfed in your eyes, torn between a past lover and present murderer. your eyes…they’re always the same. the mole on above your lip, you have it this time. he tries searching for the coy person inside you, but you’re broke. battered and cold, you don’t have love for him in you.

not in this lifetime, at least. maybe that will make it easier.

the gun shoots with a bang.

and i’m reminded of my mistakes once more.

the tattoo parlour is quiet in the summer afternoon.

changbin is resting in the back, getting a good hour’s nap while minho waits for his next client who’s due any moment now. the table fan whirs noisily.

the door opens with a small creak and before minho can even turn around, he knows. his gut twists. sure enough, you’re standing there with uncertainty plastered over your face, as if you were having second thoughts about this.

minho doesn’t remember as much this time around, but he knows, there’s an inkling of recollection. of a rainy day and cold eyes.

“hi, you must be (l/n) (y/n),” he states with a comfortable smile, the one that is supposed to ease first timers who stand there in doubt, “i’m lee minho, we talked on the phone.”

he stretches his hand forward and you take it shyly. your fingers are nimble, fitting in his so well, he almost doesn’t want to let go. he can’t remember.

“hi, i’m here for my appointment?” you squeak out and minho does his best not to smile. he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.

“of course, i have a few designs according to your choice, why don’t we sit and discuss?”

talking to you was easy. you knew what you wanted and had worked out all the tiny details to some extent as you could. but then again, talking to you had always been easy.

“where do you want to get it?” minho asks, finalising a few sketches and stacking them away in a separate pile.

chewing your lips, you slightly lift your shirt. the faintest blue - almost greyish - birthmark right above your abdomen peeks out. minho’s eyes scan your skin, to where you point right below it over the side of your waist.

he nods, fingers shaking as he collects the designs and walks over to the counter. the fan whirs loudly.

minho remembers. 

but you always forgive me. you say it’s because you love me.

“(y/n)....i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

the car reeks of oil and gas. minho’s cheek stings with millions of shattered glass pressing against his skin like tiny kisses. your eyes are closed, head rolled forward.

“(y/n) please,” minho’s voice cracks and he’s not sure whether he’s crying because of the pain or because you won’t answer him, “look at me.”

his plea falls on unconscious ears. you don’t even stir, laying with your eyes shut tight and glass in your hair.

the world goes black and then it returns, sirens and wails piercing through his ears like an incessant buzz. where are you?

you’re lying beside him, your eyes cracked open while you stare at him. the oxygen mask on your face fogs up slowly, your lips mouthing at him.

“It’s okay…i love you.”

minho tries reaching out but his hands refuse to move. he’s on the ground, he’s hurt, he’s bleeding. he’s crying, but not because it hurts, not because the scars and wounds across his body threaten to tear him apart.

“don’t leave, please.”

your oxygen mask stops fogging up.

as if you sense i’m being too hard on myself.

“minho, just ten more minutes,” you pout at him, folding your hands in a plea.

“no, your father wants you home back by–”

“oh boo hoo, my father doesn’t even care what i do,” you scowl, crossing your arms across your chest now. the low cut of your outfit reveals a spot of skin and minho has to look away. he’s better this time, concealing his feelings and emotions.

“you know i can’t disobey–”

“i just want to have fun, it’s like i have any friends to spend time with.”

minho sighs, straightening his crisp black suit and regarding you with indifferent eyes, but deep down, minho understands that all you craved in this life was companionship. he doesn’t like your father anyway, but he like you. he cares for you, and he doesn’t want to see you upset. but he also doesn’t want you to get hurt.

“ten more minutes,” he says, putting his palm up when your lips morph into a wide grin, “but no drinking.”

he’s stern but you nod eagerly anyway, looping your arm through his and pulling him inside the club. he will probably let you drink anyway, or you’ll sneak some when he’s momentarily distracted (he’s not, he just lets you have your way sometimes under the pretence of not noticing.) and he’ll have to carry you back to your room and maybe get an earful tomorrow morning for your drunk state.

whatever, as long as you’re happy.

“you know, minho?” you slur through the ride back home, nuzzling into his side drowsily, “you should take it easy sometimes. life’s too short to not have fun.”

you have no idea.

“and besides, i like you more this way.”

minho doesn’t answer, calming the thudding against his ribcage as he hold you close and covers you up with his blazer.

it’s all worth it when you kiss his cheek lazily, a murmured goodnight falling off your soft lips and onto his skin like a tiny part of your heart.

and even though i know i’ll find you each time, i still wonder if you’ll find me first this time.

“mr. lee minho sir!”

the voice gets carried away the large lobby, people turning to stare at you as you stand behind the automated entrance barrier, waving your arms at the said man to gain his attention.

minho looks back in shock, momentarily forgetting about the call he was on as he regards you through wide eyes.

you’re grinning and calling out his name, the zip of your handbag open and your contents falling out, but you stumble to grab them messily before stuffing them inside unceremoniously, much more important stuff at hand.

“mr. lee, please, give me ten minutes, i promise i’ve got an amazing proposition,” you say, dodging the security guards who try to pull you away. people stare and murmur in shock, you were making quite a scene.

you look a bit clumsy, but you’re light on your feet. and you definitely don’t seem to care about what people thought of you.

“what’s going on?” he asks his secretary by his side, both walking towards you.

“that’s (l/n) (y/n), they’ve been trying to get an appointment with the PR team for ages now. apparently they're the founder of some small company looking for finances.”

“and why have they not gotten an appointment yet?”

his secretary doesn’t know how to answer, blinking at him in confusion. why would a million dollar company like his waste their time on a nobody like you?

minho disregards the obviousness on his secretary’s face, approaching you with a warm smile.

“i believe you called me?” he asks warmly. the silent whispering thickens.

“i did, sir….lee minho sir. i mean–”

“why don’t we take this to my office?”

you squawk in surprise and minho offers you another smile. it’s familiar to you, his warmth and kindness, and you immediately feel guilty for causing a ruckus. but minho doesn’t treat you any differently, doesn’t mock your business nor finances. he doesn’t look down on you, and yet, there’s something underneath all that kindness that feels like he owes it you, so much so, that he may as well have been in debt to you and was now paying you back however he could and you wanted.

months later, you’d be lying on your bed, your legs tangled together and faces close and he would tell you the reason.

“it’s because you found me first.”

if you’ll be happy without me.

the train windows are foggy, the city lights a distorted kaleidoscope of red and yellow blending into each other.

minho blows warm air into his scarf, tucked right up to his chin and rubs his hands together before stuffing them inside his woollen coat. the train rattles on through the cold night, the gentle to and fro almost lulling him into sleep.

his body shifts to his left when the train stops at the third to the last station and minho lets out a sign between the satisfaction of knowing that he’ll soon be home and the disgruntled realisation that he would have to walk for ten minutes to do that. at least, he’s closer to the warmth of his home now.

the doors open with a swish, cold air blowing in and minho huddles against the corner seat, pulling his legs closer and almost doubling on himself. twenty minutes more, and he’ll be in the comfort of his home and his cats.

from his peripheral, he notices someone taking a seat beside him. the end of their long scarf gently touches minho’s arm under his thick coat. they cough into their hand and sniffle, clearly shivering from what he could tell by the way they draw into themselves, shuddering.

the train moves again, overhead lights dim enough that they were easy on the eyes but not too dark either. a long stretch of tunnel comes into view and the lights outside disappear, a black canvas staring minho back in his face. he catches sight of his neighbour, breath hitching in his throat when the warmth of their presence suddenly seems to heat him up.

he feels like a high schooler again, flustered when his crush sits beside him.

your face is gaunt in the black mirror, eyes drooping like you were fighting sleep and head gently lolling about. it doesn’t even take long before he feels your head on his shoulder. he stiffens, holding his breath in case you wake up, fingers curling inside his pocket and heart beating steadily against his chest.

even now, he thinks, even now, you make him feel this way. and you were simply a stranger to him in this life.

the train jolts again, the lights outside merging out of the black fog and staining the misty glass. your head on his shoulder, the fragrance of your shampoo lingering under his nose and the tingling sensation on his arm where your scarf lay gently. when the cold wind blows in, you move closer to him, soft snores tumbling through your lips and falling on his coat like a memento of your existence.

only one stop left, he gets to spend five more minutes with you. the warmth of his home is alluring but so is your sleeping figure next to him.

he wishes this train would go on forever. 

but i always end up wishing that we would be together this time around too. 

“i love you!”

“minho, we can’t!”

“what does status matter in front of love?”

“you know well enough exactly how much it matters,” you sigh, sliping your hands through his placatingly, softening your tone, “it won’t work. you’re from a noble family, and i’m just…plain old me.”

“you know i don’t care about that stuff.” he brings your hands up to his mouth and kisses your knuckles gently, his pillowy lips searing your skin like fire.

“they won’t care about banishing you from the court either if they find out.”

minho is so close to you, he can feel your breath on his lips. he’s kissed you so many times now, felt those lips against his and across his skin countless times, but every moment he spends with you, it’s like he cannot get enough of you.

“what if we run away? from these people, these…expectations and restrictions.”

“min…”

his name on your tongue, it sits there like it was always supposed to.

“you can’t help who you fall in love with.”

sometimes you can, but minho always chooses to fall in love with you. he doesn’t have to try hard; he’s never fallen out of it in the first place.

call me selfish, but there’s so much i need to tell you. show you. so many ways to love you.

the soft tunes of the jazz band floats in the air, men and women in silk and satin, dancing with each other through the cheerful night.

minho holds you in his arms, pressing quiet kisses in the crook of your neck and you giggle, swaying along with him on the dance floor. the night is still young for the two lovers and music quite a ways before it stops.

“wouldn’t have taken you to be the romantic type,” you say, looping your hands around his neck.

“wouldn’t have expected to be dragged to the dance floor so early,” minho teases back, pulling you just a little closer.

but minho would be willing to do so much for you. he would read it all in your eyes and from its depths, draw out his heart and carve it whichever way you wanted him to.

“i thought you wanted to dance!” you hit him  lightly on his shoulder, pouting at his smirk.

“i only accepted because the bartender was eyeing you,” he gestured behind him, tilting his head slightly so you could see. and sure enough, the bartender was indeed looking in your direction.

“oh, do i sense some jealousy?”

“don’t i have the right to feel that way?”

he twirls you to a lazy tune from the saxophone, only to pull you close when he realised that even the miniscule absence of your presence did not suit him. maybe he was drunk, he could definitely feel the burn in his throat and the liquid courage pulsing through his brain and you were so very beautiful.

the fabric of your dress under his fingers was soft, your rose painted lips puckering up ever so slightly and your tinted cheeks glowing warm under the dim golden lights. and your eyes; it’s always your eyes.

minho always searches your eyes everytime, to gauge whether much had changed but save for a few unfortunate lives, they remain pristine and eternal. yet, they seem to speak to him with a teasing lilt in somes life and in others, they’re like stars twinkling back his reflection.

minho doesn’t want to believe he is the romantic type, but he admits, he would always be willing to lose himself in your eyes.

even with all my lives combined, i wouldn’t be able to do it all.

undoubtedly, minho has learnt various ways of loving you throughout all his lives, and unsuspectingly, he expects to learn many more.

but his favorites persist to be the little undocumented moments only shared between you two; hidden in a small room where nobody is privy to it.

when you amble into the kitchen wearing nothing but his hoodie – which was too big on himself too – your thighs exposed and your fingers rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, his world stops for a whole minute.

you don’t take notice of his naer breathlessness, trodding up to him and planting your face in his chest. in this life, minho is a bit distant. his ability to express himself hidden in small acts of services. in this life minho worships you differently, and your reciprocal puts his anxiousness to rest.

“i cooked your favourite,” he mumbles on the top of your head and you nod into his chest, slowly backing him into a corner.

“you’re my favourite,” you smile slyly, revelling in the way his cheeks heat up and his gaze averts. you press a finger under his chin and turn his head towards you. your eyes…oh.

he feels your lips against his, your nibbling teeth and your wandering hands.

in this life, your love is passionate, a little fervent. you love so shamelessly and its fire consumes him whole till he’s right in the middle of a burning pyre. you burn brighter than him now and his love shines brighter under your flames, but minho merely considers himself the moon, silently borrowing the light from the faraway stars you carefully sew into his heart.

it’s like the universe is always balancing you both out, apologising for the times it messes up your time together.

all i know, is that i’ll surrender to you. everytime, unrestrained, with all my sincerity – because there’s no one else but you.

there’s a soft knock at the door.

“minho,” your voice is veiled and hesitant, “it’s me. can i come in?”

minho can’t bring himself to answer, but he hears the handle being twisted and seconds later a sliver of light slithers down the dark floor of his room. you find him sitting on his bead, with his head between his arms, knees tucked and unmoving.

“he’s been like this all day,” chan whispers beside you, the look of concern on his face breaking your heart, “please, help him.”

shutting the door behind you, you slowly manoeuvre your way to the bed, reaching out with your hands to feel for the soft sheets. eyes growing accustomed to the dark, you can vaguely make out his figure, scooching closer to his side.

“want a hug?” you whisper, scared to break the tranquillity and scare him away.

his response is throwing himself in your arms and clutching your waist like a child. soft sniffles get buried in your shirt and his shuddering shoulders send a wave of tears through you. the silence is broken by his sobs that shatter you and make your chest twist into knots. 

you fall asleep with his head buried in your chest and your warmth around his body.

even in a thousand lives. i’ll always be yours.

minho has assured you a hundred times in a hundred ways, that you’ll never be a burden to him.

not even when you spend half your life in a hospital bed, barely capable of doing anything by yourself. even when you cry and pretend to be mad at him, even when you yell at him to leave you and get his own life. even if he has to dedicate himself to take care of you.

you will never be a burden, not when minho was persistent on being by your side willingly.

“how long will you stay here?”

“for as long as it takes you to fall asleep,” he says, wiping your hands with a wet towel. your fingers twitch in his palm, weak and frail but so comforting in his gentle hold. you wish you could ask him to stay, but how can you chain him down to your crippled self? and for how long before he realises that this was a lost cause; that you were a lost cause and all his time and efforts were going to waste cooped up in this tiny hospital room where nothing ever happened.

“you know what i mean…”

your voice is soft in the night, eyes teary as they gaze at his face illuminated by the bed lamp he gifted you for your birthday.

minho doesn’t answer, concentrating at the task at hand. he knows you’re crying, and while any other time he would gather you in his arms and wipe your tears, he can’t right now. he can’t see you cry right now, because he’s scared he’ll really leave if you ask him to looking like that.

“we don’t know what the future holds,” his fingers close upon your smaller hands, squeezing them gently, “i want to stay here for as long as i can.”

his eyes glaze over and you slowly lose the fight in you, letting him cradle your soul and carry it with him. if that’s what he wants, 

months later you’ll walk out of the hospital, the staff congratulating you and handing you flowers and you’ll smile at them, but you’ll smile the brightest when you spot minho waiting for you at the end of the hall, cheeks shining with his tears but his lips curled up, mirroring your smile.

you’ll take your first steps all by yourself in years, it will tire you but minho will be waiting. he’ll always be waiting and when you reach out to him, he’ll reach back and let you fall into his arms.

i’ll chase your memory from dawn till dusk.

a block of light plasters the wall and falls on the table.

the last rays of the waning sun trying its best to peek at your beauty one last time before setting – that’s what minho thinks it is.

you say something, smiling through your words and sipping on your drink through puckered lips and then laugh at what you say. minho realises he’s not even listening, but he can hear your voice. he somehow feels like this may be the last time he remembers.

he drinks in your face, but there’s no hurry. you’re sitting right there, munching on your food and talking animatedly, face painted with sliced sunlight, orange and warm on your skin, eyes glowing when it catches the light.

the ketchup stain above your lip doesn’t bother you, but minho smiles fondly as you continue, laughing uncontrollably now over some lame joke he assumes would be funny if he actually listened.

leaning forward, he wipes your mouth, your eyes widening at the act, but they immediately soften and lean towards him too.

then it’s quiet, only the silenced chatter of the people around you. it’s like you’re both trying to etch this moment in your memories, like this was going to be your last time together.

and when there’s nothing left to be done anymore, i’ll sleep with you under the stars. 

the band of silver glimmers on his finger when minho stretches his hand out toward the sun.

the grass is dry and tickles his ears whenever he shifts about, the wind ruffles his clothes like butterflies. minho basks in the late afternoon sun, shutting his eyes and breathing in the sweetness of the honeysuckle air.

beside him, the arrangement of flowers lay carefully over the smoothened stone.

the first few stars appear like newborn dots of light, shining weakly in the orange sky slowly bleeding into purple and blue.

he smiles happily, the tears long appeased by your memories in his heart. the scent of poppies lingers somewhere in the back of his mind, your smile like a ray of hope on days he can’t find you, a piece of your soul in the crevices of his bone like a single entity of his own self.

minho searches for you now and sure enough, you’re there beside him, in the gentle caress of the wind and the playful tickling of the grass and the twinkling smile of the stars above.

[spnfanficpond]

November/December 2023 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

Five-Finger Discount by @talltalesandbedtimestories

This story is so smartly written - so many fantastic descriptions and lines of dialogue and it flows so beautifully. I didn’t want it to end. If you don't already have an obsession with Dean's hands, you will by the end of this fic.

~*~*~

Nominated by @annahmiraculousmillenium

A New Form by Kenophobia (AO3)

I'm nominating this story because it introduced me to a new tag I really like now: "Shapeshifter Dean" Sam is bossy (and Dean actually obeys!) Bobby is in there! John dies! And other cool things I don't want to spoil. Also, it's gen.

~*~*~

Nominated by @glygriffe

Said the Salmon to the Sea by @bendingsignpost

A mesmerizing (or mermaid-rising?) Dean-centric story about change, about the fact that it comes whether we want it to or not, and how the heck we deal with it. “If this is as far as we can go, it’s as far as we can go,” Dean says with a heavy shrug. Slowly, Sam says, “It’s as far as I can go.” “Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

The Angel of Emetgis V by Kayliemanlinza (AO3)

I read this as part of the Dean/Cas Reversebang 2022 (with beautiful art by @missaceriee) and the concept of true-form Castiel as an alien meeting "grease-monkey" Dean in deep space is compelling as much as how love is expressed between species. (Here is the original DCRB post that made me discover the story)

~*~*~

Nominated by @heavenssexiestangel

Unlikely by @apocalypseornaw

This story was written for me for the Secret Santa hosted on the Pond. It's a lovely fic with Ketch/GN!Reader, something there kind of is a lack of (both with GN and Male reader inserts). And like, also with Ketch lol it was a really nice pick-me-up as I'm not having the best of times right now, and it made me read an author I didn't know before, so it's a win-win Situation!

Follow That Car! by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD (AO3)

A really nice, short Ketch/Dean story with a side of murder. "I wish to fuck you, Dean" is forever embedded in my brain.

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Spotless by @stusbunker

This is a Dean x reader AU with SO MUCH DELICIOUS PINING!!!! And now Bela's involved! And the reader gets to watch Dean and Bela make heart eyes at each other!! SO MUCH YUMMY ANGST!!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @salt-n-burn-em-all

Care and Feeding by foolishgames (AO3)

Sam is somehow turned into a cat. The best stories are the first and last ones if you are not an S/D reader, then can be read as mostly Gen.

Dissecting the Bird by nigeltde (AO3)

♥♥♥ Just right.

The Witch and the Wolfen by meus_venator (AO3)

I love everything about this story- meus has an amazing talent and this is one I reread often- plus, it just got a second story!

Sounds Like Truth Feels Like Courage by Sprinkle888 (AO3)

Well-written SPN story. Gen, no pairing, but it doesn’t need one. Sam binds them together with some MoL magic rings and finding out how they work is a riot. Some angst, temp character death, but ends happily. 10/10 recommend. Also posted on my Tumblr.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Slither by Tiamatv (AO3)

I absolutely love this story! The show of cultural differences between Dean and Castiel that even the reader will miss the cues. Lol! The conversation about sex was hilarious especially since Dean doesn’t ask. 😂 Wait until you read the word “clasp”. Poor Dean. Look up the word: hemipene. This stems all the hilarity in the fic. Just wait. Just wait. It’s hilarious!! SPOILER: Castiel is a naga refugee that is half human and half beautiful snake, and Sam basically “adopted” him as a charity project that turns into Dean’s charity project that ends up making him very happy very quickly.

Rubber Duckie Boots by Hexentaenzerin (AO3)

This such an adorable meet-cute. I love it! I also love that Dean wears rubber duckie boots while videoing carpet cleaning videos for his business, which Castiel absolutely loves to watch. Just can’t get enough of seeing Dean in those boots. Castiel even buys a rug to try to get Dean to notice him. **squee** It’s great! The ending is so Dean and Castiel. ❤️❤️❤️

Weighted by Tiamatv and amireal (AO3)

I absolutely love this fic because I actually sleep with a weighted blanket and when my kids are sick, they love their own. I even have one in the car. It’s light but enough to feel it. This is just so fluffy and romantic all thanks to our favorite redhead introducing weighted blankets which helps so much. It’s been shown to even help babies but blankets aren’t great for them. Anyway, they’re so cute and that scene where Dean opens his eyes all slow and gentle with “hey”, just broke me. My husband and I do that periodically and it just means more snuggles and sleep. lol. Poor Castiel thinking he couldn’t have Dean which I understand since Dean has said so much he is straight or implied it rather often. Ugh. This was done so well. I admit I wish there was more especially with Dean exploring this new aspect of himself and with Castiel. Curious to see what their bumps in the road are and how they handle it.

Close Encounter of the Fourth Kind by Fathersalmon (AO3)

First, this is smut. Second. It is fucking hilarious! I rarely find crack in smut. You have to read this hilarity. Dean’s sassy mouth is just amazing in this while Castiel just ignores him. 🤣 If you want to laugh, read this!

Firelight Glow by bleuzombie (AO3)

I just love how it progresses and the ending is great though. It’s so sweet and fluffy. Their connection is so tangible the reader can feel it like the characters do. It also has Trans Dean Winchester, which I always love to read, especially by @bleuzombie who knows how to write them so authentically and truthfully.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spencereliotwinchester

Stray Hearts by blujay44 (AO3)

It's definitely a weird one, but I really like how fluffy it is. Really, though, it's weird... but it's a feel-good one, especially when Jensen comforts Jared.

Pastiche (orphaned work on AO3)

This is literally one of my favorite SPN fics ever. I reread it a lot. Features Autistic!Jensen and loveable goldenretriever Jared who just wants to get to know his neighbor.

Flash by ellia (AO3)

Short, sweet, almost possessive... Also features my two favorite boys: Jensen and Christian.

For the Taking by veronamay (AO3)

Steamy, sexy, bdsm, Jared and Jensen. What more could you ask for??

~*~*~

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

House of the Rising Son by @kittenofdoomage

I really love the idea of Sam and Dean being the bad guys! The story as a whole is so goood!

Blood and Honey by @kittenofdoomage

Dark!Winchesters are my favorite kind of tropes! This is such a great story, very well written!

Baklavas For Your Birthday by @cloverhighfive

This is very cute!!!

Muddy Soul by @impala-dreamer

This is so good! Its very dark at times and you absolutely need to mind the tags! But this is such a great series!

Strangers by @smellingofpoetry

Very cute story!! I liked it!!!

I am my beloved’s and my beloved’s mine by @heavenssexiestangel

Very cute! Very fluffy!!!! I liked it!!!!

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester, and @heavenssexiestangel!

[knightpetrichor]

I'm Craving Open Air and Solid Ground

atsushi & kunikida centric (platonic), canon divergent

sneak peek of the current fic i'm writing!! inspired by a post i just made (the brainworms took over😔) it's an AU where atsushi managed to leave the orphanage earlier and ends up being taken in by kunikida, a 16-year-old runaway. this is the first fic ive written that's going to be 1k+ words (though this little snippet is around 800) & will probably have a sequel :D i'm posting the full thing next week! also, if anyone guesses what book nana is a reference to, u get a cookie

When Kunikida turns sixteen, despite his situation, he has a few things going for him.

He's found a place to stay, for one. The man who owns it is always wreathed in cigarette smoke, but he hadn't asked for any identification; just gave Kunikida the room and asked him to keep the noise down. It was why he'd come to the sketchier part of Yokohama—here, no one bothered to check his identity. No one wondered why he was all alone. He was free.

And wasn't that a thought?

When he'd first ran away, a year back, Kunikida hadn't been nervous about them finding him. Hell, his parents had kicked him out of their house. They wouldn't look for him—nobody would. Surviving on the streets hadn't fazed him much either.

(Everyone around him had wondered why he'd gotten into so many fights, why someone as smart and obedient as him was beating bullies into the dirt, and he didn't know how to explain that liking authority and liking order were different things, and protecting people was more important than any symbol of power.)

He was good at surviving on his own. His scabbed-over knuckles and torn jacket were proof of that. It was why, when he walked down the dirty back alleys, he wasn't worried about getting jumped.

Kunikida wasn't an idiot. He knew this part of Yokohama was notorious for its gangs, and the Port Mafia's shadow loomed above them all, from the weakest child to the most hardened criminal. These passages, built from crumbled brick and cardboard, were prime spots to be targeted. But it was mid-afternoon, and the Port Mafia usually left him alone, so he continued walking. Besides, the cats would want to see him.

Shards of glass crunched under tall combat boots as he walked, and the scent of mold filled the air as he walked under tall buildings, awnings blocking the sun, but he didn't mind; he's walked this path so many times he could do it in the dead of night, with only the light of a cigarette flickering against brick walls to illuminate the way, and only the squeaking of rats to keep him company.

Something moved in the dimness to his right. Kunikida glanced in that direction, but didn't change his posture. It was one of the cats: Nana. There were many cats that lived in this alley, shielded from the elements, but Nana was his favorite. He was the first to approach Kunikida, those few months back. It had been injured by a car and crawled its way into a cardboard box in this very alleyway. Kunikida had cleaned it up, and just like that, he'd had a new friend. It was named Nana, nine in Japanese, after the shape of its tail, which was bent at the top, like the Japanese kanji. Checking in on the alley cats had quickly become a new part of his schedule, something that he followed religiously. (Kunikida doesn't like obeying, doesn't like obedience, but this isn't the result of some authority figure pushing their judgment onto him; he trusts himself more than he does one of those, anyway.)

It crept out of its box, slinking closer.

Kunikida holds out a piece of tuna—the remnants of his last dinner, two days before. "Hello, there."

The alleyway was silent save for the quiet sounds of a tail swishing. 

He reaches out a hand and waits. Nana inches forward—tentative, like a rat crawling out of a hole. It presses its face into his hand.

Kunikida smiles faintly. "You're a strange one, aren't you?"

The cat peers up at him—

And something moves out of the corner of his eye. Nana jumps up and leaves quickly, dashing for the exit.

Kunikida spins around, suddenly anxious, hands raised. It wasn't the first time he'd needed to fight someone in an alleyway—and then he pauses.

There was someone in the box behind him. A child, to be specific.

Its eyes remind him of the cat he had just been petting. Eyes that currently stare up at him from a hollowed face, painted with terror.

Kunikida frowns down at him—he has a clear enough view to assume that it's a him. "Hello? What are you doing here? A bit too young to be out on your own, don't you think?"

That was probably a little hypocritical. But, this child was even younger than he was, and obviously didn't know how to fend for himself. If Kunikida had to guess, he'd say he was around 10 or so.

Still, it is a child. A clearly starving child who might need his help. So he crouches down at eye level, softening his voice—as much as he knows how to—and says, "I don't have any real food with me, just raw tuna, but there's a restaurant near here. Would you like something to eat?"

Again, the kid doesn't speak, just stares up at Kunikida with those large, unblinking eyes. He suppresses a sigh.

And then—slowly, like someone might hurt him if he moved too fast—the kid gives a silent nod.

Kunikida gets up with a huff. "Well then? Follow me."

He does.

[minecraftrelatedrandomness]

Life is a Railway (I'm Gonna Rob It All Night Long)

Rating: T

Archive Warnings: Choose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Pirates SMP

Category: Gen

Written for @mcytblraufest 2024 in collaboration with @philzas-early-gang-society

Primary content warnings: Alcohol, drugging, violence

"So… uh… Anyone down to rob another train?" Bek had asked it on a whim. Perhaps the alcohol had finally started to kick in, or perhaps it was that weird, bubbly feeling from the kvass that made them feel like they could take on the world if they kept drinking. But they didn't expect everyone else to respond with such enthusiasm to the suggestion. On the rooftop of a passenger train bound west, Bekyamon was met with a stranger with a fancy hat. He might be in her way to the baggage car, but perhaps with some timely intervention from some bounty hunters and a safe place to lay low, the lone wolf might not have to roam the Ecclesian borderlands alone again. Alternatively, the Kite faction-centric Fantasy/Sci-Fi Western AU, written by popular demand.

Main fanfic

Chapter 1: A Thief in the Night (Out of Sight)

Chapter 2: Crosswalks and Crossed Hearts (and Hope to Die)

Chapter 3: It Makes You Fearless (Nothing to Lose)

Chapter 4: The Antidote to Everything (Except for Me)

Official artwork for Chapters 1 and 2 by @philzas-early-gang-society

Additional works

Writer's cut: The extended author's notes and behind the scenes of writing.

Catamount Calls: Nightingale-centric short one-shot; Graecie POV, ft. a guest appearance from Will's real-life cat Oz.

Other works TBA

[aserene]

Aserene's Master Fic List

Last updated 1 September 2024; the newest works are in red. Anything posted on AO3 or FF can be found in this list, fragments and WIPs will be listed at the bottom of each section. My AO3 works are largely locked to registered users only due to AI scraping. If you need an account, please feel free to hit me up for an invite code while I have them to spare.

Fate: the Winx Saga

Why "Did it break your skin" or "Hello Bloom" has such an impact is a question I can't answer. Sorry, Not Sorry.

Regin of Dragon Series

The Smoking Incident (Silrah, pre-canon, Keggar Explanation) 

Are you my fairy Godmother? (Silrah, Ficlets, Bloom & Farah Prequel to main story) 

The Heir of Dragons (WIP, Silrah, HOTD cross over, Farah meets Rhaenys, Bloom & Farah found family) 

Sparrow, Spider this is how it had to be

Sparrow, Sparrow on the hill (Silrah, Farah-centric time travel fix it) 

Spider, spider in the tree - Tell me how it ends (Silrah, Saul-Centric time travel fix it) 

Echantix and More 

Snow (Silrah, Bloom & Farah bonding) 

Across the Sea, Soar Above (Silrah, Make Mermaids cross over) 

Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust (Silrah, Winx power swap) 

Downpour (Silrah, Power Reveal, Bloom & Farah Bonding) 

Lighting (Silrah, Skloom, Protective Farah & Saul) 

Farah and the Caturday 

Tell Tail Heart (Silrah, transformation accidents) 

Let me tell you a tail (Silrah, Bloom & Farah, transformation accidents, Bloom’s in trouble) 

Other Works 

State of Mind (Farah has trouble with her powers)

Down an unknown road to embrace my fate (Meet the family, Silrah, lost child, Selkie)

Made You Look (Silrah, fluffy)

All the Stars in Your Hair (Silrah hair braiding, slight Star Wars cross)

A Solo Guardian (Silrah, Farah & Bloom bonding, Direwolf)

A road so rough, this I know (Road trips, Silrah, Episode tag)

Prompt Fills:

HEX Gifts 

tis the damn season (meet the family/kind of, snowball fights)

And the sky is a hazy shade of winter  (Winter whump, snowball fights)

soft snow falling in a winter serenade (winter party disaster)

Reverse Big Bang 

Ferns are what it must mean to love without yearning (Farah the Fern) 

WIPS:

The Geas of It (Silrah, Skloom, accidents, Like father–like son)

The Best Days (AU Fix it, Rosalind picked the wrong parents, Silrah & Bloom)

Exile (High Court Fae take an interest in Bloom)

The Heiress (Winx reflections on how they got their magic)

Farah the Cat (WIP for Farah and the Caturday) 

Pawlp Fiction (WIP for Farah and the Caturday)

Car Crash (Silrah, baby bloom)

Saul asks Luna for a favor (silrah, Luna, protective Saul)

NCIS 

Let me save you the trouble. They’re all jibbs. 

Long Live the Queen. 

Ex Files Take Two (episode re write)

A Christmas Fairy-Tale (Episode tag, team as family)

I’ve Read all the books beside your bed (domestic fluff, secret relationship)

Bella Noche (vampires)  

One in a Billion (Halloween) 

I talked to your dad, It’s a love story, just say “yes” (meet the family, Judgement Day fix it) 

Coffeeshop Chatter (Batman won’t like this prompt, Jenny overhears the wrong thing) 

In absentia lucis, Tenebrae vincunt, Coram amore lux valet (accidental love confessions)

The Director’s Fool (April fool’s prank) 

The Cure for Hangovers and Other Aliments (Gibbs to the rescue) 

Noli timere malum, sed time heroa (Jibbslet, Kidnapping, Angst with happy ending) 

Truth in the Lies (fake marriage) 

Ask Her (tag to Knockout) 

Say Goodbye 007 (Mentions of JAG, fluff)

The Twelve Days of Christmas (Christmas fluff)

Twist of the Mind (WIP, Secret Relationship, memory alteration) 

Off the Clock (Girl talk) 

He Knocked (Episode tag) 

Haunting (Halloween Fluff)

Muscle Spasm (Gibbs whump, Jenny gives TLC)

Paris Rose (fluff & crack, lipstick) 

Only With You (undercover as married)

The Missing High Heels (Slight sequel to Only with you)

Jen, Jenny, and the Director (fuff & angst, crack treated seriously) 

The Manual (Gibbs’ Rules, Fluff, Team Dynamics) 

History Lessons (Fluffy collection of ficlets) 

Carols in the Night Series

Carols in the Night (Holiday Found Family)

February Ills (Fluffbruary Sequel to Carols in the Night)

The Easter Bunny (Easter theme)

Mother's First (Mother's day)

He didn't have to (Father's day)

Judgement Day Rewritten Series

Second Chances (Gibbs wakes up in a world where Jenny isn’t dead, yet)

From Now On (Jenny gets a second chance and learns what honesty can change) 

The Reality of Acceptance  (Gibbs follows Jenny to LA)

Expressing the Inexpressible Series 

That’s not her style (Tabloids report on Jenny) 

Goodbye Earl (Gibbs finds an interesting person in the middle of an investigation) 

Home (letters, fluff and angst)

Our Song (tooth-rotting fluff) 

Do you Remember? (orchids, hidden relationship) 

24 (WIP) 

It’s beginning to get to me (WIP) 

Anything you can do (WIP)

A little fall of rain (WIP)

Something in Red (WIP)

So Close (WIP)

Ever, Ever, After (WIP)

She’s in Love (WIP)

That’s How You Know (WIP)

One Step Closer (WIP)

WIP 

Watering Your Plants (Post Hiatus) 

The Deal (deal to have a baby) 

Now I lay me down to sleep (secret relationship) 

Xena: Warrior Princess 

So you’re saying there is a chance… 

All Fics are Xena/Ares 

Eventually, these will be rewritten and posted on AO3 

As Long as You’re Mine (post Looking Death in the Eyes) 

Reckoning the Thoughts (takes place during “The Reckoning) 

The Pendant (Aphrodite fixes Looking Death in the Eye) 

WIP 

Wrapped Around Your Finger (Post Xena coming back from Callisto) 

Black Roses Red (Hercules bashing) 

An Affair to Remember (Looking Death in the Eyes Fix It) 

House of the Dragon

WIP

Rhaenys Intervenes (Time Travel Fix-it)

Daemon and Rhaenys work together to save the House of the Dragon (Time Travel Fix-it)

Go All the Way Back (Rhaenyra and Rhaenys Time Travel)

Rhaenys Overhears (Rhaenys will make sure she is the only one with the title of the Queen Who Never Was) 

Cross Overs 

Call my name and save me from the dark (Fate, Wednesday, NCIS, I have issues okay?)

 Wishes come True, Not Free (Fate/Labyrinth) 

A Demon and A Fairy Sat Drinking (Fate/Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)

Grave Digger Redux (Bones/NCIS)

My Perfect Romance (NCIS/My Perfect Romance) 

Captain Bennett’s Christmas Catch (Christmas Catch/NCIS)

The Man with the Blue Eyes (NCIS/ CSI Miami) 

[shrugemojiidk]

My favorite Jason centric kidfic AUs are the ones where Jason fucks off the face of the earth to have a baby. Whether it be by adoption or by birth I can absolutely see him disappearing to have a kid like the neighborhood stray cat disappearing to give birth under someone’s car. The Bats don’t hear from him in several months and assume he’s at the bottom of the harbor or something. When they finally find him he’s in the suburbs under an alias raising a kid

[starconchess]

every time i see someone claim its "american centric" to say "keep your cat indoors" i want to laugh. how is it american centric to want 1) your cat to stay alive 2) other animals to stay alive 3) FOR YOUR CAT TO STAY ALIVE??? people are assholes sometimes and they like to hurt cats. cars exist. diseases exist. it is scientifically proven that cats live longer and happier lives indoors. it is not american centric to be worried about your cat's life and the lives of other animals.

[yunaffie]

The Good Old Days

Happy Ghost Swap Day! For @fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap event, I have a Yomiel & Sissel centric fic for my dear recipient, @puzzling-angel. This was a delight to write and I hope you enjoy!

Yomiel's ears filled with the sound of rushing blood, arms pumping and feet thudding sharply upon the asphalt as he raced along the pavement, his skin slick and glistening with sweat. When he reached the gate, he came to a halt and bent over, supporting himself with hands on his knees as he gasped. Once he'd managed to catch his breath, he straightened, reaching up to wipe an arm across his brow.

"Ahh." Stepping through the gate, Yomiel traversed along the path, reveling in the feel of the cool breeze that swept past, caressing his hot and sticky skin. He drew in a deep breath, pausing for a moment just to let it all soak in, the tranquility of an early morning, birds still singing from the treetops as the pale sun beat down, how soothing the fresh air of spring felt after a long run.

Once inside, Yomiel made a beeline for the fridge and took out a bottle of water, gulping down the contents. It was so cold and refreshing as it coursed down his throat. Just then, he heard the quick pace of footsteps. Turning around, he saw Sissel bustle into the kitchen. A smile lit up her face as she saw him.

"Oh, you're back, sweetie." Sissel came up to him and planted a kiss on his lips. "Did you have a good run?"

"Mm. Why don't you join me sometime?"

"Sure, when I have time. Maybe at the weekend?" Sissel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I'd better get off. Going to have an early start today. Hmm, maybe I'll do some shopping after work, get something for dinner. Does spaghetti sound alright?"

"Sure, sounds great. Have a good day at work." Yomiel leaned in to give her a swift kiss on the cheek. Sissel snatched up her purse, waving her hand at him before walking out the door. He continued to sip at the water, watching her as she hurried away toward her car.

As the sound of the car's engine faded into the distance, he was left feeling conscious of the fact he was now the only one in the house. With a long exhale, Yomiel set down the bottle. Well then, he supposed, it was time for a shower.

Inside the cubicle, standing beneath the cascade of scorching water, Yomiel began to feel a bit better and even started humming, lathering himself with a smile of contentment. It was so easy to just while away the time in here, letting the minutes pass by as he reveled in the sensation of the droplets hitting his skin, running along his bare, smooth skin in rivulets. It was the little things like this he had really come to treasure. Although, he wasn't sure Sissel would see it his way when it came to extra long showers. Oh well. Allowing himself a few more minutes, he finally stepped out and grabbed a towel, rubbing himself dry, passing by the cat sitting by the door and going to sit on the bed. Wait a minute...

Yomiel blinked. Yes, there was indeed a little black kitten with a red scarf sitting there by the door, watching him. As he continued to stare, the kitten mewed then came over to rub against his leg. In a flash, Yomiel found himself pulled into the familiar world of swirling black and red, face to face with the cat.

Sissel's ghost form nodded imperceptibly, tail waving behind him. "Good morning, Yomiel."

"Oh, uh. Yes, good morning," Yomiel responded. "So I guess you just let yourself in then?"

"I certainly did. You were in the shower, so I went right ahead. Popped open the window and squeezed through." Sissel tilted his head. "I hope that isn't a problem?"

"Of course not. You just took me by surprise, that's all. You know you're always welcome here." Yomiel knelt down to scratch Sissel behind the ears. Sissel started purring and butting his head against Yomiel's hand, eliciting a fond smile. "Anyway, I'm just gonna get ready. Won't be long."

While Sissel entertained himself by wandering around the house and playing with various things that were capable of being manipulated, Yomiel got dressed and grabbed himself some toast and coffee. He sat down in front of the computer and booted it up while starting on his breakfast. Sissel hopped up onto the desk, glancing at the screen.

"What are you up to now?"

"I'm just gonna check my email quickly. Don't worry, I've got plenty of time for you." Yomiel took a bite of toast, washing it down with a mouthful of coffee, clicking the way to his email in the meantime. "Oh."

"Hm?" Sissel's ears pricked up. 

"It's a response to one of my job applications." Yomiel took a breath before clicking.

Sissel watched Yomiel's face as he read the email, seeing his face slowly fall. His worst fears were confirmed when Yomiel's head dropped and his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Yomiel. Hopefully you'll have better luck next time."

"Yeah." Yomiel released a long sigh. "Shockingly enough, not a lot of people are willing to hire someone who recently got out of prison after taking a child hostage. At this rate, it just feels like I'm never going to get a job because nobody wants an ex-con working for them." He placed his elbows on the desk, resting his forehead in his hands.

"Hey." Sissel came closer, rubbing his head against Yomiel's cheek. "I'm sure you'll find something soon. Maybe I can ask Detective Jowd, see if there's anything he could do?"

"Any help would be nice, I suppose. Just thought I'd try to get out there on my own, but it's not easy." Yomiel raised his head, giving the screen a rueful look. "Honestly, it's pretty frustrating. I keep trying and trying, but... ugh. I'm just so tired of this." A stinging sensation swept over the back of his eyeballs, prompting him to rub his eyes.

Sissel gazed at Yomiel, feeling a pang of sympathy. "I wish there was something I could do."

"All I can do is keep trying, I guess. But... honestly?" Yomiel slumped back in the chair, turning his gaze up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I feel like I just want to break down and cry. I won't do it when Sissel's around, though. I can't make her worry."

"You can cry now. I'm not going to tell anyone."

Yomiel let out a short laugh. "Yeah. Alright. Seriously though, I'm alright, just feeling kinda bummed. Wishing I could get a break already, you know? But I get it. I did a terrible thing, and I have to pay the price for it. I can't expect to have everything served to me on a platter."

"You know, I'm always up for hugs if it makes you feel any better."

"Well, alright then. You know, I'm really glad that you came to visit me on this particular morning." Scooping Sissel up, Yomiel carried him over to the couch and lay down with the kitten resting on his belly. Sissel stretched himself out and began to purr loudly while Yomiel ran his hand along his body. Yomiel was well aware that Sissel couldn't feel a thing and yet the little kitten still did his best to act as if he was truly experiencing these sensations and expressing his pleasure as would be expected from a living creature. Truly, he was a natural at this, but Yomiel supposed he would have to be. 

Sissel arched his back and stuck his legs out, flashing his paw pads. Yomiel couldn't resist the urge to grab hold of one of those little paws and poke at the pads, rubbing his thumb over them. "You used to be so ticklish. Whenever I did this before, you would always pull away."

"Well, I suppose I am willing to indulge you now. I take it you find my paw pads quite fascinating?"

"Heh. Kitty beans."

(Uh, that really doesn't explain anything, but okay...)

Yomiel continued to play with SIssel's paws, while Sissel lay still, slowly thumping his tail as he stared at Yomiel. It really was so comforting. His thoughts drifted back to the past, when he used to just lie there with Sissel, stroking and playing with him, listening to him purr continuously. Even if he couldn't feel the soft touch of his fur, or the heat radiating from his body, it had still brought him considerable comfort. Sissel had always been there, ready to listen to him, let him hold him in his arms, content to lie on his lap while the hours passed by. 

If he thought further back, he could remember what a playful kitten Sissel had been. The cat had mellowed in his later years, but when he was younger, he certainly hadn't failed to keep Yomiel entertained. Sissel used to just race around, pouncing on invisible things and chasing the toys Yomiel bought for him. His antics had rarely failed to bring a smile to Yomiel's face, just like right now.

"What are you thinking about now?" Sissel peered at him.

"Ahh. I was just reminiscing." Yomiel paused. "Thinking about the time we spent together, way back when you were still just a kitten. You used to run around, jumping on shadows, and you loved playing with toys. Even when you got older, you still liked to play. Do you still enjoy it?"

"Heh. Well, the little lady certainly does her best to keep me entertained and I do my best in return. Maybe it does get a bit old sometimes, but I'm not about to disappoint a lady. Anyway, if I've really had enough, I can always feign tiredness and pretend to fall asleep. Works every time."

"Heh." Yomiel's lips twitch. "You really were a handful as a kitten. But I appreciated it. It was a nice distraction from the dull monotony of my existence." He fell silent, staring into the distance. "I really appreciated it, you know. Every moment. Whether you were being absolutely bonkers, or during the quiet moments when you'd let me put you in my lap and just stroke you while you napped."

"Yes. I too felt the same." Sissel stretched his legs out. "It was always such a comfort, being in your lap, held in your arms. I was truly content, being by your side." He closed his eyes. "No matter what, you were always willing to pay attention to me, petting me, playing with me, whatever I wanted, and I really was... truly happy to be with you."

"We had a lot of good memories together, didn't we? Doing all sorts of things, like fishing. I bet you remember the fish."

"Oh yes. It was delicious."

"I had never even fished before in my life, but I learned to do it, for your sake. Turned out I wasn't so bad at it. It was a nice activity to pass the time too, which was just as well because I had way too much of that."

"You were always trying to find something to do, weren't you?"

"Mmm. Yeah. Even just going for walks, wandering around, carrying you around with me wherever I went. Remember when I first put you on a leash? You weren't so keen on that thing in the beginning but eventually you got somewhat used to it."

"Hmm. Yes, I do recall that. Though you'd mostly just carry me in your bag anyway. You took me to all sorts of places. I got to see all sorts of things with you. Honestly, it didn't mean much to me, seeing all those views and different places, but it was nice to just be by your side."

"Right. I used to take you everywhere, didn't I? Used to get odd looks for it sometimes even. You were the one constant presence in my life." Yomiel gazed at Sissel, a smile lingering on his lips.

"So." Sissel sat up. "Are you feeling any better now?"

"Yeah." Yomiel picked Sissel up and brought him closer to his face, looking into the kitten's eyes for a second before placing him against his cheek in a soft embrace. "Thank you, Sissel. I really appreciated it."

"You're welcome." Sissel rubbed his head against Yomiel's. "I know it must be hard for you at times, but hang in there, okay? Things are bound to get better."

"Mmm." Yomiel nodded, his expression turning serious. "Of course, this is nothing compared to, you know. Being unemployed and alive far beats the alternative." He looked up at the ceiling. "It just gets me down sometimes. Back then, I really thought I had it made, engaged to the love of my life with a decent job and being on a project that was getting me a good salary. Seemed like it was my big break. Then, on that day, my whole life was changed and I was plunged into a nightmare."

"Yomiel..."

"But at least you were there. What I went through was hell. Still, I had you by my side, and I have so many wonderful memories of you. Those were the good times and I'll never, ever forget any of that."

"Yes. Those were truly good times."

Yomiel sat up, placing Sissel in his lap and running a hand down his back. "I got my life back. I got her back as well. I am deeply grateful for that, and I know I shouldn't be complaining. It just kinda gets me down sometimes."

"It's okay. I understand." Sissel reared up, resting his paws on Yomiel's chest as he butted softly against his chin. "I'm sure you'll get back there one day. Whenever you're down, I'm always happy to come to you. I'll cheer you up if you need me to. Just like the good old days."

"Yeah. Thanks." Yomiel scratched Sissel behind the ears. "Hmm."

"What's up?"

"Oh, I was just thinking, what if I was to get some cat toys?" Yomiel smirked. "Relive those days of your kittenhood. If you're happy to do it for Kamila, you'll do it for me too, right?"

(Oh, brother...) "Sure, Yomiel, if you really want to, then I don't mind. Just remember that catnip doesn't work on me anymore."

"You can't even pretend?" Yomiel's face fell.

"No way, that's too much work. I barely even remember how I used to act on that stuff." 

"Heh. Well, I do. You would be totally out of it. It was a delight to watch. You rarely failed to entertain me, Sissel."

"Well, uh. I guess I'm glad I was able to entertain you. But, you know, I'm more about using my powers of the dead these days, pushing buttons, flipping levers, poking anything that moves. Have you bought any new appliances lately?"

"Appliances are off limits!" Yomiel gave him a stern look. 

"Geez." Sissel lowered his head, his ears flattening. "Okay."

Yomiel chuckled, then lowered Sissel to the floor. "Right then." He went to pick up the mug and plate, carrying them into the kitchen. "Time to face the rest of the day."

Sissel followed, watching him as he stood at the sink, running the tap. "Have you got anything planned for today, then?"

"Hmm." Yomiel rinsed off the plate and wiped it clean, gazing out the window to the street beyond. "Nothing in particular, really. I suppose I could type up some more job applications. Watch some television, pass the time until Sissel comes back home. Maybe I should do some chores as well. She'd surely appreciate that." Setting the plate down, he glanced in Sissel's direction. "How about you? Though I suppose you don't really have much to do, being a ghost cat and all."

"Well, Lynne and Detective Jowd do call on me now and then. Sometimes I like to just go along with them for the ride. But, today, I think I'm just going to relax. I might just explore a bit, watch people as they go about their day, find some new places over the phone lines, who knows."

"I hope you don't go scaring too many people out there," Yomiel said with a smirk.

Sissel sat perfectly upright, wrapping his tail around his legs as he gave Yomiel an innocent look. "I have no idea what you could possibly mean."

Yomiel made an amused noise, shaking his head. "Honestly. If you're not careful, you might give somebody a heart attack one of these days."

"Oh, that's okay. If they die, I can just bring them back to life."

"Sissel." Yomiel said his name in a somewhat firmer tone, though he was still smiling.

"Seriously though, I do prefer not having to go through the trouble of reviving them." Sissel stretched his body out then rubbed against Yomiel's legs. "Anyway, you'll be okay now, won't you?"

"Yeah, no worries. I just got to keep myself occupied. Perhaps I should pick up a hobby or something." Yomiel turned around to rest against the counter while looking down at the little kitten. "Say, I might pop over to the pet shop at some point. Would you like to come with me when I do?"

"Hmm?" Sissel cocked his head. "You mean so I can choose the toys, is that it? Heh, alright. Of course, anything I could manipulate is fair game. Maybe you could find something really interesting for me."

"Something really interesting, huh?" Yomiel crossed his arms, gazing into space. "Well, I wonder. I'm sure you've discovered all sorts of things to play with by now, but sure, I'll try and think of something. Anyway, it would be nice to just hang out and do some stuff together sometime, don't you think?"

"Sure, why not. I'd like that."

"Alright, it's settled then." Yomiel nodded. "A man and his cat hanging out together, just like the good old days."

"Right. Just like the good old days." Sissel met Yomiel's gaze. "Well then, I think I'll go off and do some wandering now. I'll be seeing you around, Yomiel."

"Yeah, sure." Yomiel walked with him to the front door and opened it. "See you later." He watched Sissel walk off down the path, with a fond smile on his face all the while.

[locamotivednp]

OK re your tags about the regional breakdown of catcalling: you are so right and I wish I'd noted that! I grew up, went to school and have since lived in much smaller towns than Atlanta for example.

Also, the few times I have been catcalled, it was usually that I was out walking and someone in a car whistled as they drove by. So the interaction was over pretty quick, and the car-centric nature of the towns in question kept me pretty segregated from these people, whoever they were.

Thanks for your nuance, it keeps me honest!

Thank you for re-blogging that post also! It really was super fascinating. Cat-calling is one of those things that is assumed to be universal because so much of the conversation is driven by people in large cities. It was really interesting to see how much that isnt true! 40 percent never or rarely experiencing it is not what i would have expected even after moving to a smaller city and talking to friends from all over!

Cat-calling was one of those things were we told to expect and get used to. But seeing that poll made it clear that its really not something that happens everywhere (which means it shouldn't happen anywhere yk).