Fridj has always been a wanderer, jumping from warehouse to cafeteria most his adult life. The mimic was always a trespasser. Even in the dead of the night, there was always a chance someone would stumble upon the monster, so Fridj rarely ever enjoyed a full night's sleep. Sometimes he'd slip or snort, but typically Fridj'd keep aware juuuust enough to keep himself completely transformed as a refrigerator.

Then happenstance delivered him to someone's home, an experience completely different from any other he'd wandered into himself. The mimic knew it'd be dangerous inside someone's home, being within close proximity of someone most of the time. He could kill them if needed, sure, but this creature typically tried to avoid confrontation if it was possible. Thankfully, Fridj's new "owner" wound up being quite a nice guy. Nice to the point where he was slowly able to reveal himself! A life of hiding in plain sight slowly crumbled away over time; never completely, but a great deal more comfortably than any other point in the mimic's life.

And part of that new lifestyle seeped into his sleeping habits. Fridj's experience hammered in a need to try and hide as his object form in order to protect himself. It was completely natural. But now that he was somewhere safe, free to relax and actually enjoy a good night's rest. So, naturally, the mimic's steadfast alertness slipped, as did his form. Bits of his monster origins bled out his body; an arm to prop himself up, a leg to keep him from slipping. Deep in dreams never yet conceived, Fridj would start to snore, pushing open his front door and revealing his half-mouth, tongue lazily lolling out onto the ground in a puddle of drool. Each low, thunderous, guttural snort encouraged food and drink to tumble out his compartment, spilling all along the kitchen floor.

Some nights, Fridj's housemate would come downstairs, woken by his roommate's snores and pulled by the warm glow of his uvula-lightbulb. Quietly and considerately, he'd return contents up inside the mimic best he could before stuffing the monster's tongue back inside his cold mouth. It was a testament to how secure the fridge mimic was when even gently closing his front door couldn't even wake him up. This was never an awful fact of life for the roommate, mind you. It served more of a reminder of the monster's humanity, for lack of a better word. He was keeping the monster safe just as much as Fridj was keeping him company. And seeing the mimic letting himself go just a little bit--showing that bit of vulnerability--meant he was doing just what he needed to.

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Art by  min

Fridj belongs to  neekokarina

Yay, finally! It's an important step in the mimic's life to finally wind up somewhere he can live rather than somewhere he has to hide. Fridj doesn't always sprawl out like in this picture, but even the least bit of form-slipping could lead to unwanted discovery before.