#this is a mile long but it's only a fraction <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[tainted-liquor]

'Tiny hands; Little Baby ...ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡ ft. 42Miles

...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

✩ingredients: Sugar, kisses, and baby powder!

˙⟡TWs: Cussing, Miles speaks mostly Spanish, so ready ur spanishDict

✩A/N: Miles is soft when it comes to his children. Its not ooc, he was based off of MY sisters father. parents usually 'calm down' after having babies. pls don't start complaining

When you think of the ideal father, you usually would think of two types of people. The happy-go-lucky super kind and outgoing person, or someone who balances both fun and order. You never in your life expected to be a mother, or even wanted kids as a matter of fact. But everything changed when you met him. Miles.

Admittedly, when you met in high school shit was rocky. Typical 'anti-social social' kid. Everybody knew him, but nobody was ever able to say they talked to him. But things slowly began to change as the school year passed, and you seemed to pop up more and more in each other's lives. Art projects, a shared interest in graffiti, seating charts in chem, and ending up at the same bodega during the wee hours of the night.

You waltzed into the small store, grabbing a tube of Pringles and a bottle of cherry Faygo. You had a project to get done within the next 5 hours and spent 3 days working nonstop so you wouldn't fail this semester. Your eyes were low and sleepy, your movement was slower than average and it looked like you had been crying. A lot. What is a girl supposed to do when she feels like her life is being drowned out by constant numbers and big words?

You waited by the counter, tapping away on your phone as you waited for the man behind the glass to finish making your chop cheese, slowly raising your head to see who just swung open the door. You made eye contact with Miles for a brief moment, nodding upward as a form of greeting before suddenly being startled. Miles's eyes widened for a moment, taking a tiny step back as he took in how sleepy you looked. Your hoodie wasn't even on properly, one arm completely off your shoulder and exposing a fraction of your black tank top to the world around you. "Well damn, nigga. I know I look like shit but don't make it obvious" you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dropped your head back to your phone screen.

"Oh, my bad. Just not used to seeing you outside of school" he shrugged, making his way to the counter to order his food and standing next to you in silence. You both tapped away on your phones, scrolling through your Instagram while you waited for your sandwich. There was nothing else to it, really. You both waved bye to each other as you left the store, silently building a smidge of a relationship compared to being just strangers. For the most part, it was like that at school too.

There was no real reason to talk to him, outside of a small hallway talk and a nod or a wave. And it stayed like that for a long time, until a random day in the school's library. Miles came strutting through the oak wood doors, seemingly pissed off as he slammed his supplies on a nearby table and started working silently. You side-eyed him, continuing to blast the music in your headphones until you felt a presence begin getting closer to you. You grabbed one of your AirPods, removing it from your ear as Miles stood over you.

"Hmm?" You hummed, looking up at him as you paused your music. He said nothing, only showing you a piece of paper with honors calculus work. "Do you need help?" you asked, scanning over the paper briefly before putting your AirPods in your case. He nodded, letting you take the paper from him as he leaned against the table. "Aight, sit down. I'm only doing one problem though" you muttered, scooting your chair over to make room for Miles.

When Miles left that table, you were closer than normal. You spent the rest of the afternoon helping him 'study' (talking to each other while he finished his work) and exchanging numbers and Instagram. "Good luck with your test!" You smiled, waving from across the room as he left the library. He gave you a nod before swiftly exiting, leaving people asking you left and right "What's Miles like?" You didn't think anything of it, at all.

You never would have imagined that that same boy would be the father of your child almost ten years later.

“MILES!” You shouted as loud as humanly possible. “SÍ? QUÉ HICE??” He shouted back from the kitchen. “MY FUCKING WATER BROKE START THE CAR!” You yelled as you stared down in absolute shock. And it was absolute chaos from there. Miles was practically stumbling out of the house as he ran to start the car, muttering curses as he ran up to get you out of your shared room.

Unfortunately for Miles, he had no idea what was happening. He was terrified but tried to be as supportive as possible through the entire situation. He was out cold for most of the delivery, having fainted 10 minutes in from anxiety. "Sir? SIR-!"

BOOM

But other than that, everything went amazing! He cried for 20 whole minutes when he got to hold his beautiful baby girl. "W-what...sniffle... are you going to...sob...name h-her, love?" he asked between a puddle of tears. You took a good look at your baby through soaked eyes, realizing she was born...quiet. She had one green eye, and one dark brown eye that was taken right from her father's face, a cute little button nose, and a head full of placenta-permed hair. She cried once the entire birth and remained silent the rest of the way, just like her nonchalant-ass daddy. "I'm thinkin' about...Asomi" you replied before bursting out in tears, causing Miles to burst even further into tears.

You attempted to reach for your baby, earning a watery glare from your boyfriend. "Nigga I JUST PUSHED HER OUT! GIMME MY BABY!" you giggled as you attempted to grab your daughter. "nuh-uh. I'm not done holding her" he retorted, flashing you a middle finger as he held Asomi even closer. "Miles Gonzalo Morales."

"Lo siento. Te amo mucho. Tú eres muy bonita y inteligente" he quickly replied as he handed your daughter over.

And from that moment forward, everything in Miles's life revolved around his beautiful family. He spent hours rambling on and on to 'Omi', as he calls her, about anything under the sun. "Entonces," Miles began as he attempted to give 'Omi a sink bath. "Tú mami me dijo que necesito hablar más inglés a ti. I won't though, cuz you're my lil princess" he whispered as he curved Omi's hair into a bubbly mohawk and giggled like a child. He played with the bubbly water, pretending to be one of the countless tiny rubber duckies she had floating around in the water.

"Alright, c'mon. Necesito vestir tú antes consigue frío" he giggled as he put the kid in a prowler onesie you told him not to buy. He blew raspberries on Asomi's little belly, earning adorable giggles from his daughter as he carried the tiny baby with one arm. He cleaned up some of the toys on the floor, briefly pushing them inside the toy bin before grabbing the tiny purple pacifier and soft wooly lamb-lamb plush. Omi clung to his shirt, laying her head on his shoulder as she held the tiny lamb-lamb plushie. Miles kissed her on the forehead, sat down on the couch, and fell asleep with Omi dozing off right beside him.

You came home to two of your two favorite people in the world snuggled up on the couch. Omi's tiny hand gripped Miles's shirt as Miles held her like an inmate protecting his tray. You giggled to yourself, snapping a quick pic for the memories before joining their 'nap circle'.

"G'night, pretty babies" you whispered, pressing kisses on both of their cheeks.

"Mmh...noches."

...‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Taglist:

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @kxllanxtdoor

Taglist form on my profile !! pls fill that out to be added <3

[umadosedepascal]

P E D R O P A S C A L

O N L Y

__ FIC REQUEST OPEN __

SERIES

(Banners are here)

NEW MEXICO(PART IX)- Pedro asks you to spend his birthday together with you. You just go.

W I N N E R(PART VIII) - You couldn’t attend SAG awards but Pedro meets you late in the night to celebrate.

O U C H (PART VII) - You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

B O A T (PART VI) - Today is your last day in Malta. Pedro will be back to work, and you also need to return to your routine. Pedro wants your last day to be wonderful, nothing like a surprise with a perfect end. The three most intense days of your life.

COME FIND ME (PART V) - Pedro promised you a weekend, but an unforeseen event changes everything. Maybe he's a fan of surprises, maybe he can find you.

72 HOURS WITH HIM (PART IV) - The shooting in Malta keeps going, all Pedro needs is a weekend off, well…he got it. Would you go meet him for only three days? Hmmm yes!

PEDRO SOLO (PART III) - The days are long and exhausting, Pedro has a huge hotel room, hot tub ... But he is missing something, could you help him?

LOSING GAME (PART II) - You meet Pedro again not just to take back your panties. He wants to play a game, who’s going to lose?

HIGH MILES CLUB (PART I) - After partying hard at Met Gala making out with you in the bathroom and later taking you to his hotel room in NY, he finds something inside his red overcoat pocket in the middle of the airport. But it doesn’t stop, more unexpected and hot things happens during his flight back home.

ONE SHOT

(Banners are here)

🔥DIRTY HOLIDAY - You go with friends spend the holidays in Mexico, such a coincidence to be at the same resort as Pedro. What a world, so small huh?

MEET ME AT THE SET - Pedro is THE GENERAL, babe!

CORONA, MEXICO - You got invited by Corona to be an extra on the new “La vida mas fina” campaign at the beach. Even if was only one single scene, maybe just 10 seconds of screen you would be more than happy because the main reason was him…Pedro.

MASTERCHEF FAIL - With a busy schedule, Pedro finds some time to spend with you. You promised him to cook his favorite food. Maybe things get out of hand and dessert comes before dinner.

PURPLE IS THE HOTTEST COLOR - After having a difficult day, Pedro meets you, no patience, no time for conversations.Pedro only has one desire in mind: you here and now, no matter if anyone will see you.

————————————————

PEDRO I M A G I N E

It’s 3 in the morning…

Hey, I’m looking at you…

What a smile…

You wearing his purple shirt…

Pedro eat pussy drawing

Pedro eat pussy part II

————————————————

Who are Santa Trindade

Gringa is on her late 30’s totally addicted to Pascal for the latest years (she doesn’t know what happened) although she’s following his work since 2019 because she is a Star Wars nerd and fell in love with a mandalorian 🤷🏻‍♀️. Her favorite Pedro boy is Javi Gutierrez because he is chubby and funny (Pedro vibes almost 100%).

What makes her wet is when Pedro: slide his finger on his lips while giggling.

Good vibes: if she had a date with Pedro she thinks she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day 🥲

——

@missyorkswhore is on her late 20’s and noticed Pedro when her uncle was watching Narcos, she saw Javier and asked him “wow, who’s that stach guy?”. A couple years later she finally got into Narcos and you know…she still want to marry Peña.

She loves when Pedro raises his eyebrow, and when he speaks Spanish [she thinks she can get wet in a fraction of seconds if he speaks like that to her in bed] ah and of course when he screams WHAT TOWN!!! as Joel.

Fave character obviously: DAVE FUCKING YORK (killer king)

[voltaspistol]

Summary of this week's insanity in the USA

Connie Willis 2/1/2025

"Dear Everybody:

Two horror stories today from the Trump administration. The first is that Trump, who has been promising to "turn on the big faucet" and get California plenty of water to fight the fires (and turn tumbleweeds green) did just that. Sort of. He ordered the Army Corps of Engineers to completely

empty two reservoirs in California’s Central Valley, a completely insane act:

--Trump ordered the release of massive amounts of water from Kaweah and Success lakes. The water from the reservoirs do not drain into rivers that go to Los Angeles. The water would have to be pumped at great expense across the valley to the California Aqueduct and then many, many more miles to get to Southern California.

--Trump tweeted a photo of "beautiful water flow that I just opened in California. Today 1.6 billion gallons and in 3 days it will be 5.2 billionh gallons. Everybody should be happy about this long-fought Victory! I only wish they’d listened to me 6 years ago--there would have been no fire."

--The only problem is Trump has NO idea what he’s talking about. The release will do nothing to help the fires or release fire danger, and it will result in "channel capacity" in all the rivers in the area (water right up to the brims of all of them) and major flooding downstream. The last time "channel capacity" was seen (during the 2023 floods, when they had no choice but to release the water) the water destroyed dozens of homes and businesses and caused significant damage to infrastructure.

--Safety managers were not notified. Even worse, Trump didn’t give farmers any notice that he was doing this. They only heard it through the grapevine, and it caused them to scramble to move machinery and animals out of the resultant flooded areas.

--River Water Master Victor Hernandez: "In 25 years I’ve never seen anything like this. I was given no explanation at all."

--There are agreements about how releases should be made and how affected populations should be notified, none of which were observed here.

--And worst of all, the water in the reservoirs is there to provide water for irrigation during the dry summer months. Releasing it now means there won’t be any left when it’s needed for crops. Farmers are scrambling to preserve fresh water resources.

--And the water doesn’t belong to the federal government. The reservoirs do, but the water belongs to the farmers and others through an incredibly complex system of water laws.

--Tulare City Water Manager Dan Vink: "This decision was clearly made by someone with no understanding of the system or the impacts that come fromn knne-jerk political actions."

--The Army Corps of Engineers eventually convinced Trump to release only a fraction of the water (one-sixth) but even so it caused major problems downstream. And was insane. Which means if you’re counting on various government entities like, say, the military, to refuse to do what he orders them to do even if it’s crazy, you can forget that.

--The irony here is that the Central Valley is Republican (which I’m sure Trump doesn’t know--he thinks the entire state is "leftist") and all these farmers who are now screwed voted for Trump. Talk about FAFO.

In other FAFO news:

--Liley Gaines, a pro-deportation conservative activist, is melting down because her immigrant husband is facing deportation.

--Florida Republican Rep Maria Salazar is very upset that Cubans are being deported.

--The chair of the Arab election campaign for Trump blasted the President’s "wild" call to relocate Palestinians.

--The head of Gays for Trump is upset about Trump’s remark about there being only two genders. "He’s talking to the wrong people," he said, and added that Trump needs to get away from social conservatives.

--A Latina tweeted: "This is so crazy that we voted for Trump. We trusted in the word that he promised, as Latinos. This is crazy, that starting next week multiple cities will be hit be immigration raids...I hate that I voted for him, now I am so scared for my family."

--(You’ll notice that none of these people are screaming at Trump. They’re just unhappy about his policies, all of which he said he would implement MULTIPLE TIMES during his campaign. Many of them think he’s being influenced by bad advisers or that he doesn’t know what is happening.)

--In another kind of FAFO, Kansas City is reporting 70 cases of tuberculosis.

The second horror story of the day is that Trump has launched his global trade war:

--Trump announced yesterday that he is imposing tariffs on Canada, Mexico, the EU, and China starting today. The U.S. is now in a massive trade war.

--The stock market promptly dropped 338 points before the stock market closed (with more to come.)

--All of these countries are going to have 25% tariffs put on them except China, which will get 10%. This is a perfect example of the corruption of this administration--they were supposed to get 25% tariffs but Elon Musk has big companies in China, so Trump dropped the tariff. Ron Filipkowski: "Trump promised much higher tariffs than this on China repeatedly during the campaign, but it appears Elon Musk was successful in negotiating those down for his largest business partner--the Chinese Communist Party.

--Trump is also threatening 100% tariffs against Brazil, India, South Africa, Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE for no discernable reason except I guess he thinks it will make us even richer.

--The problem is Trump has NO idea how tariffs work. He thinks the tariffs are paid by the countries he imposes them on when really they’re paid by the Americans who buy stuff, which drives prices up. Trump said yesterday,: "Tariffs don’t cause inflation. Tariffs cause success. There could be some temporary short term disruption. And people understand that." He also said nothing anyone could do at this point would stop the tariffs.

--This will no doubt "concern" Susan Collins, who’s from Maine, which will take a huge hit from the Canadian tariffs. She wrote a long tweet today, explaining that 95% of Maine’s heating oil comes from Canada and so does the jet fuel and diesel oil the Air National Guard Base in Bangor depends on completely. "From fisheries to potato farmers to paper mills, these tariffs will have a significant impact on Maine’s economy and risk increasing costs for our residents." She said she was working with the Trump administration trying to convince them not to do it, but Trump is obviously not listening.

--Even some Republicans are alarmed. Rand Paul: "Taxing trade will mean less trade and higher prices."

--Hedge funds are betting the stock market is going to suffer a devastaing crash due to Trump’s tariffs. Goldman Sachs data reveals a dramatic surge in "shorting." (Remember the last big crash?) The bond market is indicating an economic disaster ahead and expects rising inflation.

--ByTor: "What the Trumpists are doing to the economy is like if a nuclear power plant operator said, ‘Let’s pull out all the control rods and see what happens. It won’t melt down immediately, but it will shortly. And at some point you can’t just put those rods back in."

In good news:

--The Mexican president is sending a letter of protest to Google over their renaming of the Gulf of Mexico.

--Elon Musk is really mad that his cars are being called "Swasticars" and he is being called "Muskolini."

--The LA school police will not comply with ICE raids on the schools.

--The Quakers are suing over ICE raids in churches on the grounds that it is a violation of the free exercise of religion.

--All of the Latin Anerican heads of state are holding an emergency summit to discuss immigration, the environment, and regional unity.

In really interesting news:

--Trump’s new press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, has ties to convicted fraudster Guo Wengui.

Best insight of the day, from David Michigan: "Trump is a historically weak president. He was elected with less than majority support and by a threadbare margin. His party ‘controls’ Congress only by a hair. He issues blustery executive ‘orders’ because he can’t get anything substantive passed through the legislature, and most of those ‘orders’ collapse under he most cursory scrutiny. When Democrats unite to oppose him--and I hope and pray they finally will come out of their foolish defensive crouch and do so (looking at you, Michigan delegation)--they will be able to stop almost his entire program. All is NOT lost. There will be elections this year, and next year, and the year after that, each one a means for throwing the bums out, and the sooner the better."

Most ironic and un-self-aware line of the day, from Trump’s "I’d rather be pretty than smart" lawyer, Alina Habba: "We cannot have sloppy, lazy, and inappropriate hires because American people are going to suffer and die."

Best line of the day, from alally: "If the deaths of almost 70 people due to a plane crash makes you joke sarcastically, you might be a psychopath."

Keep calm and carry on,

Connie Willis"

[bakerstreethound]

🍓Sherlock doing this to reader 😩❤️🦋

1. whispering ''kiss me'' to your lover

2. wrapping your arms around your lover's neck

3. kisses traveling from your lover's nose to their lips

Hello my dear @lady-harvey you sent this months ago but I hope you enjoy what I came up with. I don't even remember where this prompt list resides anymore haha. Anyways I hope you enjoy the soft boy and hi everyone, I live! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Berry Kisses

Summary: Sherlock's kisses are one thing you cannot live without anymore. He can't resist you anymore than when he's on the trail of a killer. You live for the quiet moments where you can be at peace with each other, if even for a short while.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT copy, repost, claim, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

You live for these moments when Sherlock allows himself to rest, a short reprieve from the demands of his day. He won’t admit it outside the doors of 221B, but when you crawl up on the bed to straddle him, he can’t look away. This is one of the best parts of his day, these quiet moments with you.

You offer a small smile in return, watching him, as his gaze meets yours his hands resting along your back, stroking and rubbing circles as you inhale deep, burying your face in his neck. It doesn’t take long before he groans while you not so subtly suck marks along his neck. 

“You’re not going to get away with that so easily," he huffs, rolling on top of you, his lips a fraction from yours, teasing you so close but he feels miles away in the moment and all you want to do is run to him and drown in his kisses.

He pins you deeper into the mattress, piercing gaze roaming along your body, causing you to shiver. It always did in his presence, your body responsive in every way, each touch and caress of his awakening the sleeping siren within. 

His lips still linger over yours, heat cascading along his body, setting fire to yours as if you are kindling ready to burst into flame. 

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” you let out the barest whisper, tongue teasing along your lips. 

“If that’s what you wish, yes” 

“Really I thought it’d take more convincing than that, my love.”

“Kiss me then,” he quips, it’s almost a challenge but a deeper request, He wants more oh how he aches for more of you. You’re already driving him mad being here with him this way and he wants to devour you until dawn breaks, but he lets you take your time. How willing you are to take your time, breaking him down bit by bit, his fingers digging into your shoulders with every desperate kiss, sigh, and plea you draw from his lips.

It’s an addiction you’ll never recover from but will gladly drown in tenfold if you can see this vision each and every day, of him bathed in the light soon succumbing to the shadows. 

Your arms immediately wrap around him once more, straddling his waist and peppering his face with more kisses. He savors it, letting you do as you wish despite the protests of his mind. He wants you, yearns for you terribly but he wants, oh how he wants more. 

He finds himself fixated on your nose, and so he caresses your jaw, cupping his face in your hand to stop you from your conquest on his neck. He barely pecks your nose, grinning at the amused laugh that follows, but his lips remain along your body trailing from your cheek, fluttering along to the corner of your lips before finally kissing you properly. You groan at the contact, somehow pulling him impossibly closer, falling into his adoration and warmth. 

“I need you,” you sigh softly, your heart aching. You’d feel so empty without him, but his lips are your salvation dragging you into the light, saving you from drowning in the depths of your mind. 

He obliges, turning to press you into the mattress, pulling you under him not intent on letting go. “So good for me,” he murmurs, words muffled by the sounds falling from you, your mind comprehending nothing but him and the love he bestowed upon you. 

“You taste,” he kisses your lips engulfing you before brushing against them again, “you taste like strawberries.” 

“I see you’re catching on, how observant of you, my love.” 

His lips press against your neck, savoring the smell of you and strawberries intermingled-, and a few moments pass, his lips find yours once more, fingers carding roughly through your hair, and you groan. You want, how you want more and you let him take as much as you give, his hands falling to your waist gripping tight, worshiping you in nothing but adoration. 

You make a reality what you imagine in your dreams. You find yourself falling into him consumed by him, wanting and feeling nothing but his skin against yours, relishing the sounds falling from his lips, the weight of him on top of you filling your every need. When his hand strokes your sides a shiver follows in its wake, his hand caressing the apex of your thigh, his sapphire gaze staring into your eyes, shimmering. 

“May I?” his gaze doesn’t part from yours not when you whisper a yes against his lips, a long, elegant finger stroking you and the fire consuming you from the inside out. It’s wonderful and all-consuming like him and when he adds another, working you slow, always eager and desperate to memorize this, memorize you for he knows your body, some of the darkest parts of your souls as well and you gladly fall bringing your lips to his in a searing kiss the feeling of him and his adoration pulling the last bits of pleasure from you. There you remain, basking in the bliss, his chest rising and falling curls brushing along his brow encompassed by you in your own universe.

****** 

[rainbowolfe]

Bishop Relics I

Chemach describes the process of making a Relic as finding the last of a God's power and drawing it out. Therefore, the Bishop's Relic abilities are not only powers they had, but a fraction of that power. Not to mention the fact that the abilities might represent what they "lost" in a metaphorical—maybe even ironic—sense.

Heket also makes a comment about having to borrow power that was once hers.

So let's talk about that. Because that? That addresses the issue I had with the Bishops not having a place in this world. The ritual circles and the powers they wielded are about to add a whole lot of much-needed ~context~.

I'll condense each Bishop into their own post so this doesn't turn into a mile long wall, but before you go, check out the explanation of how I'm interpreting the ritual circles for this analysis :3

Leshy | Heket | Kallamar | Shamura | Narinder

[About Ritual Circles]

Using the most prominent example of a ritual circle in action (the Bishop's transformations) as a reference, we can get the gist of how to interpret these sigils.

What's in the middle is where the power's going; The Receiver. In these cases, that would be the Relic/the Relic Owner. The circles (if any) represent The Sacrifice; i.e. what is being given to receive the power. And what's surrounding the circle is The Source of the power. They could also be considered as the ones performing the ritual.

In the case of the Bishop's transformations, the one's performing the ritual are also consumed at the end, but that's not necessarily the case for every ritual circle. Lamb's followers aren't consumed when powering up the Crown statue or praying at the altar.

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Magnolia - Chapter Five

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing(s): Geto Suguru x Original Female Character, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru x Gojo Satoru x Original Female Character Additional tags: Vampire AU, Dark Themes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Depression, Loneliness, Eventual Smut, Polyamory, Slow Burn

A/N: More tags will be added as chapters are updated. Please be mindful of the tags and warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as they will tell you what you need to know about the content within.

Minors, DNI.

Summary:

When she hears him coming, she looks up at him. “Oh,” she says softly. “Were you looking for me?”

“Kind of but not really,” he answers, settling himself cross-legged beside her. “You okay?”

“I guess,” she murmurs with a shrug, looking down at her lap. Her wrists are still bandaged, the soft white fabric covering the cuts that are still healing. “I don’t know.”

Suguru knows that trying to force her to talk won’t do him any good, and so he aims to let her know that he is a safe space if she wants to talk. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” he grins at her. “And whatever secrets you have are safe with me.”

“You won’t tell Satoru?” She peers over at him.

“Why would I?” He looks away from her. “He barely talks to me these days anyway.”

Chapter Navigation 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: Suggestive (implied/referenced phone sex), Gojo Satoru is his own warning

Chapter Five: Would I Be Whole?

I could suffice for Him, I knew-- He-- could suffice for Me Yet Hesitating Fractions - Both Surveyed Infinity “Would I be Whole” He sudden broached My syllable rebelled-- ‘Twas face to face with Nature - forced ‘Twas face to face with God -Emily Dickinson, I could suffice for him, I knew (excerpt)

--

“When are you coming back?” 

It’s a little absurd, he knows, to ask the question right now. At Satoru’s coaxing he’s made a mess of himself, his chest and abdomen covered in a thin sheen of sweat and sticky little rivulets of his own cum. Thousands of miles away, Satoru lounges in a similar disheveled state, modern technology connecting them through a seven-inch screen.

“Dunno,” Satoru replies noncommittally with a shrug. “Is this you asking me to?”

“This is me telling you that I miss you, and that it would be nice to see you in person instead of through a screen,” he sighs. “I thought that would mean something, but I guess it doesn’t.”

“But modern technology is amazing though, right?” Satoru grins at him. “Even though we’re on opposite sides of the world, it feels like we’re in the same room.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Suguru murmurs, reaching for his discarded t-shirt. He uses it to wipe the mess off of his chest and belly. “It feels like I’m video chatting with you because we’re thousands of miles apart. Which is exactly what we’re doing. It feels like you’re not here, so I’m jerking myself off and trying to pretend it feels like your hand. Which is exactly what I’m doing.”

“Ok, ok, don’t whine,” Satoru complains, sounding more like he’s the one whining. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve never made a fuss about me being gone before.”

“You’ve never been gone this long before,” Suguru points out. He pauses. “And you never used to stay there that long.” 

“Hmm… I see your point,” Satoru concedes. “But it’s wintertime already where you are, and you know I hate how cold it gets up there.” Even through the small screen, Suguru can see that he’s pouting. “Can I at least wait until summer?”

Where you are, Satoru has said, as though the house isn’t his home, too. 

This conversation is only a variation of a conversation they’ve had dozens of times before. Suguru is suddenly weary of it and all the feelings that come with it, and he doesn’t feel like arguing with Satoru anymore. ��Do what you want,” he mutters finally, looking away from the screen.

“C’mon… don’t be like that.” 

Suguru ignores him. 

“Suguruuuuuu.” 

“What.”

“How’s your pet?” Sensing he’s already on thin ice, Satoru clears his throat and amends his question. “Err… I mean, how’s your human?”

“Why are you asking? It’s not like you care.”

“But I do,” Satoru protests. “Just because I’m not fond of humans in general, it doesn’t mean I don’t care about this one. She was interesting enough to catch your eye… That must mean she’s special.”

He can hear what’s not being said just as clearly as what is: Even with your well-known soft spot for humans, you’ve only ever taken in two others. What makes this one different?

“Special?” He repeats thoughtfully. “Maybe.” He pauses. “To be honest, I do feel a connection with her that I haven’t felt with anybody in a long time. It’s more than just wanting to protect her or take care of her. I wonder if it’s because she and I are alike in a lot of ways.”

“Oh?” Satoru’s eyes aren’t on the phone; he’s moved into the bathroom of his apartment and is cleaning himself off. Suguru is treated to the sight of the light fixture on the ceiling of said bathroom. “How so?”

“Go take a shower,” he answers, sidestepping the question. “I’ll call you back later.”

“Hai, hai.”

He disconnects the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand and wandering into his bathroom to pursue his own shower. 

--

He finds her exactly where he’s expecting to find her: under the magnolia tree in the backyard. She’d asked him about the magnolias in the vase the night he’d brought her to the house, and she’d seemed pleased when he’d taken her out back so she could see for herself where the blossoms are born. She has since claimed that spot for her own, often bundling up in one of his hoodies to keep the winter chill at bay, spending hours beneath the branches reading or journaling.

She’s currently sitting cross-legged on a blanket with her back against the tree’s massive trunk, a tray of tea and snacks next to her and one of his books lying beside it. She isn’t reading. She’s simply staring off at something in the distance that he can’t see.

When she hears him coming, she looks up at him. “Oh,” she says softly. “Were you looking for me?”

“Kind of but not really,” he answers, settling himself cross-legged beside her. “You okay?”

“I guess,” she murmurs with a shrug, looking down at her lap. Her wrists are still bandaged, the soft white fabric covering the cuts that are still healing. “I don’t know.”

Suguru knows that trying to force her to talk won’t do him any good, and so he aims to let her know that he is a safe space if she wants to talk. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” he grins at her. “And whatever secrets you have are safe with me.”

“You won’t tell Satoru?” She peers over at him. 

“Why would I?” He looks away from her. “He barely talks to me these days anyway.”

She feels bad for having brought it up. She knows that there is some rift between Suguru and the husband who lives on the other side of the world. She doesn’t know what the source of the rift is, but she can see how it deeply affects this man who has taken her in. “I’m sor---”

“Remember what I said? There’s no need to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

Instinctively, she opens her mouth to apologize again. She bites it back quickly and says instead, “Okay.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. 

“I don’t really know what to do,” she confesses quietly, breaking the silence. “I… I guess I spent so much time planning for when I was dead that I… I never considered what my life would look like if I didn’t die the way I’d planned to.” She reaches out, plucking a few blades of grass and letting them flutter back to the ground. “I’d quit my job. The place I’d been living in for the past five years was a fully-furnished, month-to-month rental. I didn’t own much. I’ve still got a car,” she says, as if suddenly remembering its existence. “That is, if it hasn’t been stolen from where I left it.”

“What about the people in your life?” He asks. “Wouldn’t someone be looking for you by now?” 

“I don’t really have close friends anymore,” she admits. “It’s not that there weren’t people in my life. I just… Well, I guess I let myself lose touch with the ones I’d been close to in the past, and I kept any new people I’d meet at arms’ length. It felt better that way, you know? You can’t disappoint people if they don’t have expectations for you.”

He senses them again, those feelings that had been radiating off of her when he’d found her that first day: loneliness, sadness, regret. “What about your family?”

She visibly flinches at the word family. “I’ve been estranged from my family for years now,” she tells him. “They don’t even know where I live. No one’s cared to track me down, so I’m assuming they’re fine with the distance.”

Suguru wants to inquire further about it, but he senses that to do so would be a little like sticking a hot poker into an open wound. After all, they are two of a kind, and though it’s been decades since he became estranged from the people he once called family, the wounds are still there. 

“Well,” he says, “you can stay here as long as you like, you know.”

“Without a job?” She shakes her head. “No way would I feel comfortable mooching off of you without contributing something.”

“You aren’t mooching,” Suguru shrugs. “If you want a job, get one. If you don’t, don’t.”

It puzzles her, his laid-back attitude about it. “Yeah, but… groceries cost money. So do water and electricity. Once upon a time, I owned a home. I know those things aren’t free. Plus, these clothes---” She motions to what she’s wearing - another one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants. “I should have my own clothes so I can stop stealing yours.”

“I like you in my clothes,” he teases her. “It’s cute, how you’re drowning in them.”

She isn’t sure why it makes her face go hot, but she likes the fluttery feeling his words evoke in the pit of her stomach. “Don’t tell me that,” she mumbles. “You might never get these back.” 

“You say that like it’s a problem.” Suguru shrugs again, resting his back against the trunk of the magnolia tree and closing his eyes. “Lia, I’ve been alive for a long time. I wasn’t born into wealth the way Satoru was, but I’ve been exceptionally smart with what I’ve made. It’s one of the benefits of having a long life - you’ve got the time to see returns on all kinds of investments.”

He cracks an eye open to look at her. “I don’t need money. If you stay here, neither will you. If working gives you a sense of fulfillment, I won’t stop you… but I think it would be nice - at least for a while - if you could enjoy your life without needing to.” 

She doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Besides,” he goes on, remembering Satoru’s words to him, “Your company is worth more to me than any amount of money you could ever give me.”

There it is again: the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. Butterflies, she remembers. 

When was the last time someone gave me butterflies? 

Chapter Navigation 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Chapter Six: Coming Soon

[fishmech]

It's just like, damn man communication and getting info cost so much around 2000.

You wanna look up some information on the phone so you can call someone that isn't in your phone book? That's like $4 in modern money.

You wanna call your aunt who lives a couple of states away and you're not paying the extra monthly landline cost for unlimited long distance? $15 in modern money for a 10 minute call in daytime hours, still like $3 nights and weekends, and these are both like "you got a pretty good deal" cases. Worse for most people.

OK so you just want to call your buddy who moved like 25 miles away? Maybe it's free cuz you lucked into still being in the same local call zone, but maybe you're still paying $3 in modern money for a 10 minute conversation because you managed to hit through two long distance zones. Especially if you're on opposite sides of a metro area or something. And if he had a cell phone you were calling, it might mean you paid even more because it registered as a further call.

But that's landline, let's say you were going cell. You might be paying the equivalent of $50 a month in modern money for 120 minutes of call time and no included texting. This service would likely charge you extra for "roaming", that is being out of your designated home calling area, as well as exceeding 120 minutes of talk time (and you would be billed a full minute minimum for any call that connected, mind), and texting once might be 75¢ in modern money on a cheaper provider, as much as $2 modern on others. Your excess call minutes might cost between 50¢ and $3 in modern money per minute and roaming calls would cost similar amounts even when you were within your plan. And on such a plan there was no cell data service so it would be an addon around $5 a month in modern money to have it at all - and prices of between 35¢ up to $5 in modern money per kilobyte transferred. Even if you were using strictly plain text that piled up quick.

You could of course move up to significantly more expensive plans per month in fixed costs to have much bigger pools of call minutes, freedom from roaming charges texts, and data. And to have significantly cheaper per-unit overage charges if you exceeded those. But that would quickly take your bill beyond $100, even $200 a month in modern money for a single line.

And of course if you wanted a couple songs from favorite singer? You ain't streaming it on a cheap monthly plan or likely even paying individually: your ass is paying nearly $38 in modern money for the whole album on CD, maybe $23 in modern money if you got a good sale price. And the artists still got a fraction of a penny off it cuz music royalties have been fucked forever. (of course you could pirate it probably... If you had internet service, if it was fast enough, if you could afford it for generally $36 a month in modern money for slow dialup, often much more if you had broadband available at all)

You wanna watch TV shows? Well like now you could watch the over the air stations for free. With tons of ads on the non-public stations ofc. But this is generally pre digital so there's much fewer stations on the air.

Or you could pay around $85 modern a month to get a pretty decent cable or satellite package and well you know, hope the time the shows you like line up with your schedule and of course it's full of ads too. Maybe you will setup a vcr or DVD recorder to catch what you couldn't be around for, and if you're not willing to wipe your old recording then you're going to need to drop serious cash to have fresh tapes and rewritable DVDs to keep that stuff around.

You want the higher end cable/satellite stuff? Well HBO alone back then was like $28 in modern money for a month on top of the rest of your bill - and most other similar no-ads premium channels were similar.

And let's not forget that this was still a time where getting official copies of shows on any kind of media often just Didn't Happen. Or they'd do it but they'd only put out random single episodes, maybe one full season on a multi season show. You might easily pay $26 in modern money for two half hour episodes or one full hour episode on a tape or DVD. Maybe you'd get lucky and instead be buying a whole season set for $75 in modern money, admittedly a much cheaper price per episode. Otherwise though, it's record it yourself in often pretty bad quality or trading and copying recordings from other people who liked that thing, if you got in touch with any.

And on-demand cable/satellite was just getting started and often required upgrading to a higher package, including paying more to rent a higher end TV box, with miniscule libraries. And the pay per view costs were often like $5 modern to watch a single movie squished to fit your TV, sometimes up to $35 modern for "new releases". Similarly, typical rental store costs were in the ball park of $7.50 to $30 in modern money per item, depending on overnight versus all week and sometimes old release vs new release. That shit added up quick! And Late fees could easily double up or triple up in just a few days.

And of course newspapers and magazines and books all cost money. We generally expect most of these to have some at least limited amount of free access on demand today, whether it's the free few articles a month before the paywall or getting free access digitally through your library. But of course back then, that's no such thing. A lot of online versions of publications were strict pay only, others only posted summaries for free, and that's if you were even online. It may not sound so bad to shell out 65¢ to $2 in modern money for a newspaper issue, or $4-$15 in modern money an issue for various magazines, but you'd be buying them pretty often if you wanted to keep up with things in more detail than they got into on TV. Even if you subscribe and get that discount for everything in a year, that's like maybe $90 a year in modern money for a major city paper, or $70 to $150 in modern money for a magazine depending on its frequency and size and content.

Shits just so fucking easy and cheap these days for real. You want to call someone you don't think about distance charges or roaming, you just fucking call. If you're calling overseas you probably use some app or program on a computer to call for free. A text message does not cost more than sending actual mail, it's nothing. Even all those stupid streaming services, which I don't use personally, you can have like 5 of those damn things, have way more to watch for less than cable back then, let alone modern cable prices, and have somewhat more reliability in what will be available next month!

Even when you're stuck on something like a strict budget, using prepaid cell service with blocks of minutes now, like some Tracfone "I only can afford $15 a month" stuff? It's like shlt at least that's 500 minutes/texts/megabytes of data. Like you're still getting screwed but it's much less so than what you got for that 10 or 20 or 25 years ago, and a lot more places have wifi you can use to stretch your data usage out.

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #31)

Chapter #31. ... Something Wicked this way comes... Or so Alexander thinks. Who is at Nat's door?

So this is by far my longest chapter yet! I guess that makes up for how long it took me to write and edit it? Maybe? Anyway thanks for continuing to read!! I love and appreciate you all!

Previous: Chapter #30

Next: Chapter #32

Word Count: 10,045 Read Time: Approx. 60+ mins

CW: adult language

Tag list: @gatlily @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien @thegodmother007 @honey-olive @bittykimmy13 @aceouttatime @imvenusasaboy @liminaldaze @windshield-patent @joxter-coded @rosella35 @narrans @rubeau-art @littlescaryinternetguy @jae-from-discord @kitn-underfoot @secretly-small @writing-forever @iinogongju @itsgothgirlthyme @make-me-giant @reborrowing @whatthisfemsheplikes @soapysoap69 @tinystrawberryshifter @thetinylittlespider @bigboicol-theflamingcol @certainwizardlady

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #31: The Pricking of Thumbs... and Eyes

[Alexander’s POV]

I strained to listen through the bedroom door, thicker than I measured shoulder to shoulder, through walls of drywall and insulation, through distance. While it was only a few dozen steps for the human who’d just told me to hide, it may as well have been the better part of a mile for me. 

Damn my little frame! 

My throat tightened as my spinal column was washed with adrenaline. What was happening out there? Was she okay? What was my best course of action? On the desktop I had the advantage of some height, sure, but I was also a sitting duck, with no chance to outrun a pair of malicious human hands if it were to come down to that. Did I risk clamoring to the floor? Or did that just guarantee my doom, underfoot? Down there, I’d have more places to hide out of sight before springing into action with this makeshift weapon I currently hefted under my arm. If push came to shove, would I be able to get to her in time to make any difference at all? Even if I crashed my way into the room with two absolutely massive beings before me, was there anything I could do to help? 

My few milliseconds for strategizing were abruptly cut short as the creak of the door opening far off in the distance hit my ears. My blood froze in my veins and I admit, I held my breath as I ground my heels into the wood of the desk, waiting to discover what was taking place far beyond where I stood. 

The door opened. I strained, wincing and wishing I wasn’t banished to this far off room, like some weak little coveted prize to be stashed away when danger called. I couldn’t be certain, but I swore I heard a gasp. 

Her gasp. 

My heart thundered ever more feverishly. That was it. I had to do something. Anything. Even if it got me killed. I would not lie down and cower in fear like some weak little waste of oxygen. If she needed my help, I’d try my damndest to give it. 

Without a second thought, I hobbled over to the edge of her desk, contemplating the cables I’d shimmied down once before. I now had the much more logistically challenging job of navigating this vertical drop with a letter opener towering a whole 3 inches above my head and mobility aid tucked under my arm. I heard a shuffling of feet as I swung my own over the cliff’s edge that was the desk’s ledge. I tried not to think about how a drop from this height could kill me as I heard her exclaim, “What the fuck? What’re you doing here?” Was this someone she knew? To my ears, it didn’t sound good.

 I needed to move, and quickly. I heard a male voice, deep and wholly unfamiliar ring in response, but I hardly had the bandwidth to pick up on his exact words. I managed to hear “Worried… Own good… Don’t freak out…” I launched myself over the edge, both hands gripping the cord as I swung precariously, trying not to drop the two objects carefully hooked under my right shoulder joint and pressed to my side with the crook of my elbow. I had to make sure to apply adequate pressure to keep them from slipping. 

 Hand under fist, I began to slowly lower myself down the length of the cord. The progress was abysmally slow. I bared my teeth, sweat forming on my brow, as a muscular burning began to blossom in my shoulders and arms. No! Not now, I’ve only just begun my descent. 

I pictured Natalie’s face in my mind. I’d no doubt she could hold her own quite well. The incident with the driver in her alley and her unapologetic shouting match with the impatient man came immediately to the forefront of my thoughts. She did not hesitate to come to her own defense, and I knew that. What she’d failed to remember when she’d commanded me to hide myself away, is that I would not hesitate to do the same. 

I was ripped back to reality by two concurrent events that occupied my full attention. First, I could feel my crutch slipping dangerously from my hold on it, threatening to fall out of my grip entirely, as my arms shook with the effort to hold myself aloft. I could hardly afford to risk letting go with one arm to catch it, let alone be able to twist around in time to stop its fall. I doubted I’d be able to support my full weight with just one fist gripping tightly to the slippery rubber casing of a wire. Yet, if it tumbled to the ground, and out of reach, I’d be royally screwed in trying to hobble even a few paces. 

As I hung in place, tightening the pressure between my elbow and ribs to try to keep the objects from falling, the second event tore me away from my current disaster unto another. There were footsteps, loud and unmistakable, thundering toward the door. This human, whoever he was, would be bursting through the threshold in only a few seconds’ time, judging by the cacophony of shoes on wood flooring. 

I was much too high off the ground to risk jumping, but too far down to have enough time to clamor back up again. This was a huge mistake. I was stuck, midair, probably about level with the average human’s thigh, swinging uselessly, and utterly exposed. Like ripe fruit ready to be plucked from its vine, I was at high risk of being snatched up.  

Steel yourself, Alexander, now’s not the time for succumbing to fear. I had a weapon after all, and a sharp one at that. 

The gigantic footfalls continued with ever growing intensity in my direction. The stranger’s voice seemed far too casual and familiar for my liking, “Aww, come on, I gotta see what’s been goin’ on… what’re you trying to hide?” Who was this man? Why was she not stopping him and what gave him any right to invade her home on such unexpected notice, no less? 

What was she trying to hide? Me. You unwelcome invader of privacy. She’s trying to hide me. So much for keeping out of plain sight and giving her peace of mind. 

“No, you really don’t! N-no I’m not hiding– I just… now’s not a good time and–” Her voice was softer than his, quieter and more distant. He was charging ahead and she was scrambling after him. What was wrong with this human? Did he not know how to listen? 

The footfalls were so close now, I could feel them as they ricocheted through the hardwood floor of the hall, and shook my makeshift climbing rope ever so slightly. 

How embarrassing. Just their steps were enough to rock me to and fro like a fragile leaf on the breeze. I swallowed hard. This was it. In the next millisecond I’d be face to face… well… make that face to body with an unknown enemy.

I gripped tighter, tucking the cable between the sole of one shoe and the toe of the other, so that I didn’t have to bear all my weight with just my arms. This muscular effort tweaked my injured leg, as my trembling hands gained some small relief. With my crutch still barely able to balance, I readied myself to use my weapon if needed. I was almost certain it would be needed. 

That’s when he crashed through the door. 

He towered over me, of course. The gusts of wind generated from his massive form erupting into the room threw my hair about my face and made me grit my teeth. Why did humans have to be so big?! 

He stopped just inside the doorway, his left thigh upsettingly close, yet maybe just an inch or so shy of being within stabbing range. Damn. Still, he was much too near for my liking. I could practically smell him. Was that fresh soap and a hint of cinnamon? I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

 He hadn’t noticed me yet: of course not, I was far below his eye line, why would he? He stood comfortably, as if he owned the place. He looked a few years older than Natalie, perhaps about my age, though it was impossible to know for sure. His bespectacled visage was bright, excitable. He seemed amused, as he cast his gaze around. His beard, dark in color, just like his neat, tightly curled hair, was cut close to his jawline. The wide-necked cable-knit sweater he wore sported a geometric pattern in black, royal blue and crisp white. His left hand relaxed inside the pocket of his corduroy slacks, as he took in the room before him. 

I hated him at first glance. 

He played the part of a perfect Nantucket dandy, clearly hailing from wealth, and with the added benefit of an Ivy League university education, he seemed out of place in Natalie’s humble living conditions. Everything about him oozed with pretension and privilege. And yet, the two of them seemed well acquainted, so there must’ve been some common ground. 

While this strange and wholly unwelcome intruder delighted in the view, my muscles were screaming for relief. Sweat poured from my brow and down the back of my neck. My arms, in spite of my best efforts, were starting to tremble and that damned cane was ever closer to tipping out of my grasp and down to the floor, a deadly distance away. I couldn’t hold on for much longer, but I’d be damned if I’d let this supercilious interloper’s first encounter with me be one of pitying condescension because I required any form of assistance.  

A moment after he’d paused in the doorway, the third party in this equation, and second human, my human, practically crashed into him in her hurried attempt to stop him in his tracks. Great job, on that front, Natalie. She managed to stop just short of colliding directly into his back by gripping to the threshold of the door and halting her momentum. Much to my surprise, I noticed she was significantly shorter than him. Was Natalie short? That seemed impossible, given just how towering she was to me. Or was this unannounced visitor just abnormally tall? From my vantage point they both may as well have been city buildings, so the difference hardly mattered. 

I watched as her eyes flitted feverishly over the desk’s surface, no doubt searching for me. She was red faced and breathless. I couldn’t tell if she was more relieved or panicked by not knowing where I was. Maybe luck was on my side and I’d go unnoticed by them both, left to gasp and tend to my sore muscles in the sanctity and peace of a humanless space. She sucked in air as if about to speak, no doubt to usher him out of the room, when he, oblivious, his back to both of us, cut her off. 

“Damn Nat, since when did you start picking up? This place always looked like a tornado blew through here but now it should be on the cover of a home decor magazine or something… What’s changed?” Me. I’m the change that made her clean up her pigsty of a home. You’re welcome. If I hadn’t been convinced already, it was painfully clear now that these two knew each other. He had this smug, easy going familiarity about him that made the bile rise in my throat. Who did this man think he was, waltzing into Natalie’s home uninvited and entirely unexpected and then parading around as if he owned the place? Was he expecting to stay for dinner? Spend the weekend on her couch? How dare he interrupt her work, our work, as if we had nothing better to do with our day than entertain him! 

I glanced over at Natalie, she didn’t seem the least bit offended or wary of his presence. So he’d been an unplanned but not altogether shocking visitor? How often did this stranger make himself comfortable in her home? They must’ve been quite close if he had unfettered access to her space and had been here frequently enough to note her change in personal organization. Why hadn't she mentioned him before?

As he spoke, he took another step into the space and went so far as to sweep a finger tip across the surface of her dresser to check for dust, his expression one of impressed intrigue (as he should be, that was my meticulous and thorough dusting he was observing). 

While he remained occupied, I suddenly felt the invasion of her gaze alighting on me. She finally spotted me, dangling there like some marionette in the world’s most boring puppet show. 

Her eyes bulged from her skull, as she set her jaw and her nostrils flared in that capricious way she always did when she was upset with me, which was infuriatingly often. 

Her gaze flitted with anxious intensity from my dangling form to the back of this other human, and then returned to me. With a frantic, utterly confounded gesture she mouthed at me with a serpent’s intensity “What the fuck are you doing?!” 

I hissed back, the heat in my face beginning to rise, “What am I doing? Why is he–” I jutted my chin in the stanger’s direction, which I immediately regretted as the force of my gesture forced me to swing in counterbalance, making the challenge of keeping my grip steady and the objects in my arms from falling all the more difficult, “--even here?” I cast my eyes down to the letter opener, and then back to her, “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m protecting you!” 

Somehow, her eyes managed to widen even farther as her gaze followed mine toward the letter opener in my grip, its blade as long as I was tall, sharp and menacing, “Don’t you dare! Alexander! No! Do NOT.” 

While she spat through gritted teeth, she made all kinds of emphatic gestures: shaking her head, swiping her hand in one fell motion across her throat, and staring daggers at me. If she hadn’t learned by now that telling me what to do would get her absolutely nowhere, then there really was no hope for her. If the man deserved to be stabbed, a stabbing he would get. Simple as that. 

She seemed to read my mind, “Alexander–” She was about to continue, her eyes narrowed to slits, even taking half a step in my direction, no doubt on the verge of expressing more disapproval for my very reasonable reaction to an invader in her home, or perhaps to simply snatch me up and disarm me, which I was prepared to fight tooth and nail over. Just as she drew another breath, however, the seemingly spatially unaware invader himself, clearly having no idea of this fiercely whispered conversation behind his back, uttered a noise of delight and intrigue which made both our heads whip in his direction. 

“Oh! This is adorable!” During the length of our heated exchange, our interloper had graduated from the dresser to the bedside table, where he was now leaning, hands on knees, marveling at the miniature wonder that was my neatly made bed, my dresser, and a few other furniture items, all to my scale: my open air bedroom of sorts. Oh give me a break! Have you never seen a bed before? What’s wrong with you?

 Defensively, Natalie stepped in his direction, still trying to keep my presence a secret; a smart move if his fascination with just my furniture was any indication of how he’d react to seeing me. A few beads of sweat traced down my spine as I grit my teeth, struggling to hold on. He continued to stare, adjusting his glasses for a better look, “What’s all this for? It’s so cute!” Come back over here and I’ll show you cute. 

Realizing with simultaneous intuition that we had about half a second before he’d turn over his shoulder to look back in her direction, we exchanged a swift, knowing glance before she turned on her heel, and planted herself firmly between him and my hiding spot, obscuring me from view.  

“Oh! All that? It’s… nothing… I thought my niece might like them, I just haven’t wrapped them up for her yet…” Ah yes, thank you Natalie, for reminding me that I and your niece’s playthings could do a furniture swap if we wanted. Excellent. At least she was giving me a chance to escape my predicament. She got points for that.

 I wasted no time in re-engaging my muscles for the upward climb. As my shoulder joints buckled, I felt my stomach drop. Did I have the strength to pull myself up? 

Now was not the time for doubt. I had to try. 

She continued to cover for me, speaking louder than was normal, as I made laughably little progress towards the lip of the desk, “Anyway, look, I really appreciate you coming to check on me. You have literally been saving my ass with the lectures and stuff, I owe you, big time…” My whole body was trembling, my breath escaping my lungs in ragged gasps, my hands, now slick with sweat, were struggling to maintain traction, as my hurt leg burned from the far too great strain I was putting on it just to keep from slipping. As I struggled against gravity, Natalie crossed the room to the other human, trying her damndest to usher him toward the door.

I was only a bit too preoccupied at the moment to clock whether her encouragement was proving successful. Hand over fist, feet wrapped tightly around the thick, rubber casing, I was getting ever closer to sweet relief. Only about two inches of distance left. I could do this. 

No sooner had I encouraged myself, than my next handhold gave way and I was left to cling fast by one arm, as I instinctively hugged the letter opener and cane to my chest with my now free hand, both objects swaying wildly along the same pendulum trajectory of my own form. My heart rate spiked and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to make a sound as I happened to peer down at the floor, seemingly a million miles below me. That was close. Taking advantage of the gravitational force that bandied me about, I managed to grab back on with my right hand. 

Okay, crisis averted, I could do this. 

 “...But, you did your check-up on me and as you can see I’m totally fine, so…”

Nevermind. I could not do this. 

No sooner had I steeled myself for the homestretch, my grip gave way again and this time I had much less luck in righting myself. My favored hand, my left, failed me, as did my foothold. I was now dangling, precariously, by one arm, legs flailing, as I swung with a violent rhythm. But that wasn’t the end of my troubles. In my scramble to right myself, my movement was enough to finally knock the crutch from my grasp.. and down, down, down it fell. 

"...Thanks for stopping by. Like I said I do have a bunch of shit to do today–” CLANG!!! 

The aluminum cane collided with the metal rim of the trash can below. My shoulders flew up to my ears as I cringed and grit my teeth. 

So much for keeping a low profile. 

The gasp of pure delight that came from the man across the room made my stomach churn, as I hung, wrapped tightly around the cable, my one line of defense still pressed between my chest and arm. The speed with which he turned on his heel, alerted by the sound I’d accidentally made, only to almost instantaneously break into a, frankly, disturbingly joyful smile made my countenance twist into a snarl. He practically bounded over to me, with so much enthusiasm that his footfalls shook me from head to toe. 

Why, oh why, did I ever delude myself into thinking the company of humans was ever worthwhile?

Much to my utter frustration and embarrassment, all my swinging and thrashing about for a steady hold left the wire above me twisted, and, therefore, I found myself being turned so that his rapidly approaching gigantic face was greeted with only my back.

This was all much too humiliating. I kicked and writhed in a minimally successful attempt to right myself. What I was greeted with made me regret the effort. 

His bespectacled gaze was a mere few inches from my body, his dark eyes, widened and glowed with patronizing fascination. 

“Awwwww…” His voice was booming, the intensity of his stare far too all-encompassing, he was close enough that I could smell him, that hint of soap and cinnamon striking my nostrils like a biochemical warning signal. He smiled, his massive eyes staring directly down into mine, “You need help, there, little buddy?” I could practically feel the steam erupting from my ears. Before I even had a chance to snap back, the pad of a finger, huge, rough and jarring, pressed into my ribs to turn me fully about.

 I writhed away from his touch, swinging to and fro and snarling, “DO NOT TOUCH ME.” Even a rattlesnake gives one fair warning before he strikes, this is mine and you’d do well to adhere to its call. 

Simultaneously with my outburst Natalie stepped forward, clearly forecasting what was to come. She knew me well enough by now to know just how I would take such condescension. As she came forward, I felt myself tensing, Don’t you dare swoop in and rob me of my moment. I don’t need your help here, I’m well armed and perfectly capable. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, hungering for the now inevitable moment of  confrontation with a being twelve times larger than myself. 

She continued to close the distance between us, and I couldn’t help noticing how her hand rested on his trapezius muscle with easy familiarity. She glared at him, an eyebrow raised “Yeah. Don’t, dude. Don’t do that…” Her eyes darted from him to me, her right hand poised to reach forward and tear me away. As much as I relished the idea of not having to hang here any longer, I craved the opportunity to give this dimwit a piece of my mind with far greater fervor.

But it seemed unnecessary for me to advocate on my own behalf, because he immediately laid the groundwork of his own demise, “Aw, come on, Nat. Don’t stress. I’ve got this. Just watch, we’re gonna be the best of friends after today, aren’t we? Aren’t we little fella?” How perfect. Keeping digging your own grave, you cable-knit clown. 

He stared expectantly, awaiting a response. His brows furrowed when he received nothing but an unrelenting glare from me, “He’s not much of a talker, huh?” His eyes darted uncomfortably away from my stone cold stare, as he looked to Natalie for an explanation.

“Quite the opposite, actually. That’s why I’m worried…” 

“Aww, don’t be! I’m not gonna hurt him!” 

“… for you, jackass. You’ve pissed him off into silent rage, that’s a level farther than even I’ve gotten.” 

The bespectacled man burst into laughter. Not only did the volume at this distance threaten to blow out my eardrums, but the boiling of my blood quickened my heart rate and I couldn’t help but snarl. The ignoramus wiped a tear from his eye and managed to speak between bouts of belly laughter, “You’re joking, right? That’s adorable! Uh oh, somebody’s grumpy! We all better be very afraid!” He threw his hands up in mock terror. His voice cascaded and echoed in a sing-songy voice reserved for the condescension of human babies or cute animals. Come just a little closer, you ignorant bastard, I dare you. 

“I’m gonna say this one more time, you’re gonna regret saying shit like that, I promise. So either move and let me disarm him, or you’ll see what happens when you piss him off!” 

Another round of incredulous laughter. Could he manage to be any louder and more obnoxious? I highly doubted it. He continued, unphased by Natalie’s apt warning,  “Look at him! He’s harmless! What’s he gonna do? That letter opener is bigger than he is. I’m actually surprised he’s even able to hold it!” You’ll be even more surprised how much force I can put behind it when its razor edge sinks into your flesh, “Yeah, you’re not gonna hurt me, are ya? I bet you’re just a sweet little guy, deep down. I just frightened you, is all. Don’t be scared…” Scared?! Who did he think he was dealing with? “Did you drop something? Here lemme help you….” 

He sank all the way to his knees now, searching the carpet fibers for my long lost cane. I waited, practically salivating in anticipation. He rose back to a neutral spine, his knees still planted in the carpet, as he held the walking aide triumphantly between finger and thumb, it looking no more durable than a twig in his massive grip. He grinned brightly, clearly pleased with himself. Alright, just a little closer… 

He waved it wildly in front of my face, like teasing a dog with a stick before playing fetch. Needless to say I was less than amused. He leaned forward, to place it on the surface of the desk behind me. Yes, you’re doing great, A+ for hitting your mark. You’re almost exactly where I want you to be. Just a tiny bit closer… His massive face was mere inches from mine, I could see every pore, every eyelash, every detail I’m sure most humans would prefer to be left to the imagination. He was so near I could feel the cascading tide of his breath stirring tendrils of my hair. He looked down at me, his dark brown eyes bright with bubbly self satisfaction, “There ya go. See? We can be friends. I’m not out to getcha…” As soon as the object clattered to the wooden surface, his hand descended from over my head, careening down, closer and closer until his fingers were right on top of me, aiming for my hair. Was this man about to try and pet me?! 

Without a second’s hesitation, I wrapped my right arm firmly around the chord, hefted the letter opener over my head, tucked it securely on my left side, and then shoved it forward with all my might. 

The trajectory of the weapon was suddenly halted when its point hit home, jarring my shoulder as it absorbed the ricochet of force. 

This four-eyed Polyphemus roared in shock and surprise, his hand flying up to the origin of sudden pain. The letter opener had glanced off the rim of his glasses, and the blade hit its mark just an inch or so shy of his right ocular organ. He whipped away, batting the letter opener as he went with such force that he very nearly pulled the weapon and me right along with him, but, somehow, in spite of our significant disparity in strength, I managed to hold fast. 

His initial exclamation, loud enough to deafen me, was not one of articulate words, but rather garbled shouting. He’d flung himself backwards, crumpled in a heap on the floor. 

And thus, Saint George slayed the dragon. 

Did I feel a swell of pride enlarge my chest? You bet I did.  

Raising my voice over the din, I shouted at the top of my lungs, “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH ME, YOU INSUFFERABLE WRETCH!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I swung on the wire, all muscular exhaustion temporarily forgotten in the wake of this newfound excitement. 

“ALEXANDER!!!” Uh oh. 

Here came Natalie, her shadow casting a pall, literally and figuratively, over my gleeful celebration. She was pissed. I didn’t care.  

Meanwhile, her friend had scrambled across the carpet until his head crashed into the dresser behind him, “WHAT THE FUCK?!?! HE ALMOST STABBED ME IN THE EYE!” The timbre of his voice  had gone from saccharinely sweet baby talk to one of whiny disdain and flustered disbelief. He pointed at me emphatically with his free hand, looking to Natalie for some sort of recompense. 

I beat her to the punch.  

“WHAT DID I SAY? HM? WHAT DID I TELL YOU? I WARNED YOU!!!” I shouted across the cavern between myself and him, until my throat was raw. By this time, Natalie had fully crossed the few feet between her dresser and desk, settling before me on her knees, her brow furrowed and her jaw clenched. 

“Alexander! Hush! You’ve done enough damage already…” Her fingers descended around me, her thumbs pressing into my sternum and across my abdomen, her coinciding index fingers reaching under my arms and just above my hips to support my weight. Her grip was a bit harder and swifter than I’d become used to. She was trying to pluck me up quickly, and I sensed it wasn’t simply due to a desire to relieve me of holding myself up.

 Nevertheless, I was grateful for the relief, letting out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. Carefully, she untangled me from the wire and shifted me to a seated position in her right palm. As she gathered me in her hand, she paused just long enough to cast a glance over her shoulder, “He did warn you though, like, in a multitude of ways…”

“Ha! See??” I burst with pride, unable to keep a wide grin from painting my features. 

She whipped around immediately, “Oh shut up, Alexander,” She pointed her index finger at my chest, “You’re in as much trouble as he is! He was being a fucking ass, yes, but you didn’t have to shank him! Give me that!!” Her finger and thumb dove for the plastic handle of my weapon, still dutifully tucked under my arm.  

I resisted, jerking my shoulder in the opposite direction, “Me? What did I do except protect myself… and you?” 

She looked utterly incredulous, motioning with a sweeping, exaggerated gesture at the injured party, who had now managed to scramble to his feet, examining his battle wound in the vanity mirror, “You STABBED my fucking friend! That’s the TA!” 

I was baffled by this newfound information. 

“THAT’S the TA? Who’s been sending the taped lectures and keeping your attendance afloat? That pretentious imbecile? Well, he shouldn’t have been so condescending to me! And… besides, you could’ve led with that, you know! Maybe then I’d have gone for his hands instead!” I found myself escalating in volume as I spoke, getting increasingly more emphatic, until I was practically shouting. 

“You didn’t give me a chance before you went all Zorro on his ass!!!!!” 

“What’s Zorro?!?!?”

“Oh my god! Give me the sharp object Alexander, do not make me pry it out of your tiny little hands!” My face flushed hot. I knew she was keenly aware I resented that completely unnecessary addition of ‘tiny’ and ‘little’ into her request. Nothing about me was little, everything and everyone else was just huge. End of story. 

 She held out her free hand, flat, just below my chest, raising one eyebrow expectantly. I held off for a second, then another, “ALEXANDER!”  Fine!

 I trusted our intruder understood his limits now and would not be making the same mistake twice. I relented, laying the slightly bloodied object across her fingers. She pursed her lips as if to say “That’s what I thought.” I had a feeling she had a few choice words for me after this unexpected visit. No matter. I regretted nothing. 

“Uh, Nat?” It’s bleeding… like a lot…” His voice from across the room drew our attention once more. He turned over his shoulder as he spoke, revealing a rivulet of blood springing from his cheek, down the fingers he’d pressed against it to staunch the flow, and down farther still, staining his pristine, white, woolen collar. 

“Fuck!” Natalie practically groaned, before flashing me an extremely dirty look, “Here, lemme… uh, here…” she half rose, seeming to suddenly remember she was holding me. With a grimace, she set me down somewhat roughly on the desktop. She wasted no time in quickly swiping the letter opener up and away from my grasp, before securing it in the back pocket of her jeans. Taking a quick glance around, she decided to pluck up the entire metal cup of pens and other writing utensils, “Please, just stay right here.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. When she realized that was all she was going to get from me, she rolled her eyes and sighed. 

With that she rushed over to her friend who was cupping his other hand beneath the first to catch drops of crimson as they fell. She threw the pencil holder down on the vanity and ushered him hurriedly to the bathroom, turning over her shoulder and pointing both fingers at her eyes, before reversing the gesture to be aimed at me. I held my hands up, what could I possibly do now? I was unarmed, and stranded. The object of my disdain far away from my radius for harm. 

As they retreated, I heard the wounded man grumble, “Fuck! He’s a little… demon!!” I had the sense that a different word had come to mind first, but he’d chosen the latter. 

“… Yeah, believe me, I know…” Hey! Natalie, you’re supposed to be on my side! 

“Why in the hell do you keep him around, then?” 

“I don’t know how to explain it, but, believe it or not, he actually kinda grows on you after a while.” I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Should I be offended or flattered? 

“I can’t believe he actually stabbed me…” And I’d do it again without hesitation. 

After that, their voices became so muffled beyond the partially closed bathroom door that it was hardly worth straining to listen. 

I sat alone, isolated and small, feeling a burning sensation in all my exhausted muscle groups, as my heart and lungs worked to steady themselves to a more even tempo. The gift of solitude meant that I no longer had to maintain my composure. I collapsed back onto an elbow, breath coming in ragged fits and starts, no longer having to maintain a defensive stance. Air couldn’t come fast enough as I choked and sweat dripped in my eyes and down my back and neck. My arms and legs were spasming as I tried my best to come down from the excitement of all that had just transpired. Damn, my leg hurt. Everything hurt. I focused on my breathing for a few moments, eyes craned to the ceiling so far above where I lay. I was utterly exhausted. A long rest in my bed which had been the object of such condescension and ridicule just a while ago sounded utterly delightful. But what could I do? I had no means of crossing the vast room in any practical way. I was much too pathetically little for such luxuries of inhabiting two different corners of a room with ease. As if I needed any more reminders today of how small I was. What was a man in my situation to do but sit and ponder? I had no other recourse, after all. 

So, this was her friend who’d helped make all this time working from home possible? I was beginning to think Natalie had very poor taste in friends. I wrinkled my nose in disgust remembering how his eyes had lit up in fascination like I was some shiny, new, coveted object. What was wrong with humans? What was so delightfully fascinating about me anyway?  In any case, he got exactly what was coming to him. 

The muffled sound of voices honed into sharp focus as, suddenly, a voice with a male timbre could be heard whining, “Fuck! OWWW!!!”

A female voice followed with zero hesitation, “Oh don’t be such a fucking baby!” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle. You got what you deserved, you overly enthused idiot. Of course, in fairness to him, I knew firsthand how dangerous Natalie could be when armed with a cotton swab soaked in hydrogen peroxide. 

*********

If I was in the mood to be generous, which I wasn’t, all I could say is that the tension in the air between myself, leaning over the kitchen counter prepping two whiskey cokes, my friend, nursing his wounds at my kitchen table, and the positively tiny man, petulantly sulking on the opposite side of the table and somehow, even from this distance, palpably radiating with vitriol, was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. The only sound was the groan of the living room heater, as ice clattered in the glass while I poured.  

We’d shuffled from bedroom to kitchen without so much as a word between us. And now here we were, all avoiding eye contact like put out children. This was fucking stupid. They were both being wildly immature about this. Build a bridge guys. Don’t condscend and don’t be a fucking dick, it’s not that complicated. Did this whole crazy day say something about me? Was I like a drama magnet or something? 

Tired of the exhaustive pity party, I swept my hair from my eyes, and swirling them for a final time, I set the drinks down by a wool sweater covered elbow. Neither of them bothered to respond.

 I stood there for a moment before breaking the ice myself, “Alright then… Alexander? Meet Charles. He’s a teaching assistant in most of my main lectures this semester. He was just coming over to check on me since I’d kinda gone AWOL these last few weeks. That’s all. He’s not a threat to either of us, okay? He’s a good guy and he means well. He just… had a pretty major… lapse in judgment. One of the smartest people I know… Oh, don’t glare at me like that! Besides you, of course. Okay, Charles, meet Alexander. I found him in my pantry… well, actually, my roses… well, I technically found him in the trash, I just didn’t know it yet… anyway, he’s incredibly intelligent, fiercely independent, and he’s been through some fucking major shit, yet, he still manages to come back swinging every time. To be super clear, he’s here only as long as he wants to be, he’s his own man and he has my utmost respect, even though he pisses me off every five minutes for doing gremlin shit like stabbing my friends in the fucking face. Oh, and he’s almost as big a nerd as you, so I’d like to think you two can find some common ground. So, with that said, it’s time to kiss and make up.” They each bore holes into the surface of the table. I refused to take no for an answer, “Apologize to each other, now.” 

Both their heads whipped up, brows furrowed, incredulous sputters erupting from both mouths, big and small. Then, upon realizing I was serious, and almost as if on cue, both shouted, “Me?! What did I do?!” 

“Jesus Christ, do I have to do all the heavy lifting around here?” I couldn’t help but massage my temples, a stress headache no doubt on the near horizon, “Charles? Gimme your eyes…” My friend’s lips flattened into a line as he raised one eyebrow as if to say, ‘Really, Nat?’ My bad. Wrong turn of phrase, given that one of his seeing organs was nearly lost just a few minutes ago. 

I sighed, settling into the chair between the two uneasy parties, each glaring over his shoulder at the other, “Sorry, well, your one good one, then… Look…” Fuck, bad phrasing again, what was wrong with me? “…I haven’t even had a chance to properly thank you for braving this shit weather to come check on me. I know I haven’t been super responsive and you’re a good friend…” 

The tiny scoff in the vicinity of my right elbow made me, albeit briefly, change course, “Zip it, Alexander!” Instead of acquiescing quietly, he, of course, had to make a big show of his dislike of being told what to do. He threw his small weight dramatically against the ugly, chipped, ceramic salt shaker my grandma gifted me years ago. 

The object hardly even rocked as he pressed against it, rolling over his shoulder to turn away from me and obscure himself from view behind the white and blue patterned flowers,  “…Anyway, where was I?” I turned my attention back to Charles, “Yes, you’re awesome, thank you for always watering my plants when I go home on break and for making the hellscape that is lawschool slightly more bearable. However… As you can see, there’s something significantly different from last time we really talked and there’s some important things you need to know: He may look like the cutest little blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel that you’ve ever seen, he may be so adorably small that he can fit in just the palm of your hand and, yes, in theory, if you were really determined to pick him up you could do so without too much resistance, but when I tell you it is against your own self interest to fuck with this little man I am speaking from extensive experience. He deserves as much respect as anyone else, big or small. He’s fought for that all his life and at least in the confines of this apartment, he’ll get what he’s worked so hard for. Believe me, he had to train me too, in the beginning. Listen to him and everyone will be much better off for it, I promise. Do not condescend to him, do not touch him without his permission and do not, under any circumstances, treat him as anything less than the hyper intelligent, wonderful little nightmare he is.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught tiny movements on the table’s surface below, a pair of blue eyes staring up at me through blonde, curtained bangs as he listened intently. I didn’t dare flash my gaze in that direction, knowing full well once he’d been caught in the act, he’d turn away again. 

Charles was quick to respond, applying pressure with a few fingers around the banadage on his cheek, as if spot checking for blood, “Little nightmare is fuckin’ right. What did I do? I was kind. I helped him. I tried to be as gentle as I could. Look at him, he’s adorable… er, was… Can I really be blamed for that?” He shrugged defensively, “I mean, c’mon, they’re tiny, they’re cute, isn’t that, like, the whole point?” 

I was going to strangle him, “Dude, did you listen to a single thing I just said?”

“What?! I thought they liked it!” 

“You thought I… what?” No longer satisfied with lingering behind the salt shaker, Alexander rose to standing. Without his cane, which, in all the fuss, I’d stupidly left in the bedroom, he steadied himself with one hand on the painted ceramic, his chest puffed out, a defiant gleam in his eye. Oh boy, here we go. I knew better than to get in his way, but I couldn’t help taking a long swig from my glass in preparation for the tirade that was about to transpire,  “Please, repeat yourself, you thought I… what was that again?” 

Charles stuttered, flashing glances at me. His face was drawn, he instinctively leaned back, away from the little man before him who was unflinchingly glaring up in his direction. He knew he’d been caught, “W-well, I just… you know what I meant…” 

“You thought I liked being talked down to and treated with disregard? Interesting. What part of my reaction gave you that impression?” Even from this distance (perhaps a foot or so across the surface of the table) I could see his blue eyes were burning. Charles failed to respond, simply sputtering instead. I knew Alexander was just loving every second of this… smart little bastard, “No, I’m curious. You’re an aspiring attorney, aren’t you? Go on, then. Defend your case.” 

Charles looked at me and I offered no solace, instead, I  simply raised an eyebrow and downed another substantial fraction of my drink. As the little man spoke, goading the much larger recipient into a debate, he stepped away from the shaker, crossing toward Charles’ end of the table. I immediately bit my lip as he left the support behind and bore weight on his still weak leg. I did my best not to intervene, holding my breath as he made a few steps forward, a painful limp evident in his gait. Despite the pain, no doubt shooting through his body, his voice never waivered. Goddamn, I was proud of him, even if he was insulting my friend left and right. He tucked a hand into his side pocket, the other resting on his chest with a poised ease, his fingers spread from his solar plexus down the length of his sternum. This little nightmare knew precisely what he was doing, and I couldn’t help but watch, “Charles, wasn’t it? Tell me, Charles, how would you like it, if–” Just then, as he took another step forward, his knee failed to bear his weight, and he buckled. 

Gasping, my hand flew toward him, offering him support with a few fingers. He fell forward into my grasp, a snarl curling his mouth as his hands spread on my fingertips. He leaned against me until he regained his balance, gripping onto the segments of my fingers to pull himself back up. My heart was in my throat, as I searched his little face for signs of pain, noticing the rhythm of his own tiny heartbeats, though they spiked for a moment, didn’t seem to be going into overdrive. Setting his shoulders, he pushed forward, against my hand, attempting to continue on his path. I hesitated, providing the slightest resistance. His brow knit and those burning irises locked with mine again, “Natalie, I’m fine. Let go.” 

He wasn’t scared. His face was flushed and his bangs were disheveled, but his eyes were steeled and determined. I pulled my hand away without hesitation, wincing internally at each furious little limping stride he took, his fists balled at his sides. 

He regarded the man before him, whose eyeline may as well have been the summit of a sizable cliff face in their proportion to each other. The little man stood fearlessly beside a tumbler full of alcohol that he could have bathed in, sucked in a clean breath and laid into the larger man, “What you fail to understand is that there is not a single cell in my body that likes my current predicament,” As he spoke, his left pointer finger sawed and jabbed the air like some sort of rhetorical blade intent on wounding his target,  “I did not ask for you to loom over me, to touch me, to condescend or pacify me. I am not your friend, I don’t know you in any familiar way, yet you see someone like me, adorable and tiny, as I believe you put it, and you immediately assume that makes me somehow less valuable as a sentient being. You think that just because you can overpower me you have every right to do so. And I concede, in the current political landscape, you are legally allowed, no… not allowed, you are, in fact, encouraged to do so. And why shouldn’t you? I exist explicitly for your entertainment, don’t I? And, in any case, what am I going to do about it, even if I don’t like it? I couldn’t possibly, out of a desire for self-preservation, consider the idea of fighting back, could I? No! No, of course not. Because, as you put it, I’m just a ‘sweet little guy’, who ‘likes it’ when you treat me like an object. Indeed, it feels about as wonderful as a letter opener lodged in your face!” 

There was a pregnant pause between all three of us, as the gravity of his words pervaded the room. Both Charles and I couldn’t help but stare ashamedly into the inky depths of our drinks. I knew I was no saint, myself, when it came to the little man. He stood now with a rod straight spine, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as his lungs heaved with the task of receiving oxygen again, his unflinching gaze trained on the avoidant eyes of his opposite. I knew I’d fucked up hundreds of times: pissed him off, disspointed him, failed him. He was so right, and it was important we shut up and listen. 

The only sound was the heater rattling away, once again. 

“... Fuck…” Charles sighed, leaning all the way back in his chair now, his head in his hands. He was full of remorse “I’m… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t… You’re right, I just jumped to… I’m sorry, Alexander.” I watched the little man who wore his every thought on his sleeve, as he took this in. He was shocked. His head cocked to the side, his brow furrowed, his lips parting just slightly from their usual tight, pensive tension. He hadn’t expected this. Not at all. He blinked rapidly, his rigid posture softening ever so slightly as he was taken off-guard. 

Charles, taking precautions not to move too suddenly, pushed his chair out and leaned on the lip of the table, his chin resting on his forearm. As he moved, Alexander took a half step back, wary and uncertain about the whole situation, still, he never cowered and his eyes showed no fear. As the larger man settled himself, he was still a good distance from the baffled little man with whom he was now almost eye level. Slowly, he offered his index finger, “I’m sorry I insulted you. Can you forgive me?” Alexander regarded the man with suspicion, his brows knitted and his lips turned down into a sort of puzzled caution. 

Still, to my utter surprise, instead of using this moment of genuine vulnerability against his opponent, the little man stepped forward in all his five and a half inches and, albeit not all that enthusiastically, took the offered digit in the palm of his hand and shook it tersely before quickly breaking away. 

Charles didn’t linger in his space for long and soon returned to an upright position, as Alexander rubbed the center of his palm with the ball of his opposite thumb. It was clear we all needed some air. 

“Hey,” Charles met my gaze as I got his attention, “Could you do us a favor and go get his cane?” He and I exchanged a knowing glance. It was clear he understood what I was really asking for, “Just… just in case…” With a terse nod, the man in the wool sweater rose and disappeared down the hall. 

As the sound of his steps faded, I turned my full attention to the five and a half inches of a little life before me. It was just us again, after what’d felt like an eternity of drama. For the first time since that knock on the door, the air seemed to come a little more freely into my lungs. I propped my head on an elbow and looked him over. I watched his little body release pent up tension, his defensive spine melting into the everyday rigidity of his usual posture. Poor thing. Did he ever really allow himself to relax? He thrust his hands into his pockets, leaning his weight on his left side. I wondered how his leg was holding up. He hadn’t strained it this much since his surgery. I wanted desperately to offer him a hand to lean on but didn’t want to patronize. I bit my lip. 

Seeming to read my mind like a book, his keen eyes flitted in my direction, “I’m fine.” Are you, though? Or are you putting on a brave face? “I can tell you want to touch me as some form of physical comfort. So, go ahead, get it over with…” he lowered his head and spread his arms, as if surrendering. 

A pang of guilt shot through me, “No, I don’t want to make you endure it. If you want me to leave you alone, I will.” 

“You’re going to pout if I don’t allow for some form of contact. So, go on, just do what you’d like, within reason…” his head had stayed lowered to the ground until his very last few words, when his icy irises flashed up at me, and I caught a glimpse of a very different kind of glow in his eyes, one that was much softer, more vulnerable. I’d opened my mouth to rebuff him again when those eyes changed everything. 

Oh. 

This was his way of asking for it. His pride would never allow him to directly request what he wanted at this moment, especially not after chastising us both for our sins of condescension. I didn’t blame him. He’d been threatened, humiliated, laughed at, and stressed out. Maybe a minute or two to rest would do a world of good for him but, of course, he couldn’t admit to wanting something from me, that would be far too weak. We couldn’t acknowledge the reality of that truth for the sake of his ego, so I played along instead, “Just for a minute, please? You tell me when you’ve had enough torture for one day and I’ll let you go.” He nodded, eyes still fixed to the ground. Although it was almost impossible to see his face, I swear I saw more color in his cheek. 

“Yes, yes, let’s get this over with.” 

I slid my hand over to him, very gently wrapping my fingers around his legs and back, pressing the ball of my thumb into his chest and torso. Even though his face stayed neutral and he hardly moved at all, I couldn’t help but notice a release of his strained muscles as he was finally able to release all the pressure off of his injury. It’s okay to get help when you’re hurting. I couldn’t keep my brows from knitting together in concern. It pained me that he tried so very hard to be strong and independent. I completely understood where the impulse came from but I hated that he was in pain and toughing it out when I was happy to help. I sat with my hand propping him up for a few moments, wanting nothing more than a closer look,  “May I pick you up?” 

“Yes, fine.” His face was a little pinker than it had been, I was sure of it. Gently, I settled him across the platform of my fingers, his right leg placed carefully along the length of my palm with his heel balanced on my wrist. The ball of my thumb remained in his lap with a looser grip as I drew him up to the level of my eyes. 

He sat there stiffly, not allowing himself the luxury of relaxing fully into my hand. I wished he’d stop being so uptight but now was not the time to fight him on it. Still, as I looked him over, I felt an immediate swell of pride expand my chest and warm my face. I didn’t realize he’d been watching me with equal attention to detail, until he spoke, “What is it, Natalie?” His voice lacked its usual defensive edge. He was genuinely asking. 

“I just think you’re absolutely incredible. You are literally the bravest, most unhinged person I know.” Did his face get a little redder? All he could manage as a response was to roll his eyes, “No, I mean it! You looked at someone over ten times your size and without hesitation were just like, ‘Yeah I can take him’. Who does that?!” The tiniest ghost of a twinge of a smirk uplifted the corner of his crooked little smile. There you are, Alexander, the real you underneath it all. “When I really think about it, I can’t even be mad at you. You are one badass little motherfucker. Don’t ever change. Okay?” I rubbed my thumb across his chest, as he begrudgingly nodded, the smirk cracking into a half smile, while he rested a hand over the bed of my thumb nail. I admit, I felt the blood in my veins pump a little faster, “We can all stand to learn a thing or two from you on how not to take other people’s bullshit.” 

“I hope you plan to take copious notes after all this.” 

“Oh, it’s a must!” 

He cleared his throat and shifted in my hand, sitting himself up a bit straighter, his gaze took a moment to land as he settled, clearly preparing to speak in greater earnest, “I suppose… I feel at least a modicum of remorse… for staining his otherwise high quality sweater.” 

I had to slap my hand over my mouth to keep from cackling out loud, “You’re such a bastard! Of course all you care about is his fashion sense!”

Alexander was smiling too, as he pressed against my thumb, emphatically gesturing to the bedroom far off to his right, “What?! It’s the only redeemable quality about him! Did you expect me to lie for the purpose of overt flattery? Have you met me?”

Just then we heard the opening of a door down the hall, as the man in question began to re-emerge. I stroked the side of the little man’s head with my thumb, as I cocked an eyebrow at him, as if to say “Do you want to be put down?” He nodded brusquely, and I did as I was asked, gently lowering him and tipping my hand so he could find his feet before letting go entirely. 

As the footsteps approached ever nearer, I leaned down and whispered so only Alexander could hear, “You know, if you wanted a sweater like that all you had to do was ask, you didn’t have to destroy his!” 

“Says the woman who still hasn’t made good on her promise to fulfill my modest suit requests.” 

“Three piece Italian suits and silk ties are not modest. Even for someone of your size! I’m saving up, alright? Get off my back!” I prodded him playfully in the chest as he batted at my fingertip. 

In a moment, Charles would be standing before us, and there would begin a new matter as we all awkwardly tried to reset and start over, each much more aware of the others’ feelings on the whole situation. But for now, it was just the little blonde devil and me and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Was it weird that I was kinda excited to watch him lose his shit at us again? Not that I had any intention of provoking him, but it wasn’t far from feasible that we’d inevitably do something to offend him. It just made me proud to watch him unapologetically stand up for himself, even if I got caught in the crossfire. Looking down at him now, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Had his opinions towards me shifted in that direction at all? Or was I a target for spite and disdain like my friend approaching the table? I didn’t think so. At least, not to the same degree. The way his eyes had softened when we were finally alone, the way he’d asked me to hold him in the most passive aggressive roundabout way possible… I thought deep down in that little stone heart of his was a warm spot for me, even if it was microscopic in size at this point. 

Maybe, just maybe, with a lot of effort I could fan that ember into something bigger. But who knew? There was only so much room in a chest the size of my finger tip. 

[thealphavoidofficial]

For @thatweirdocryptid

Lil Cryptid OC for that thing you were making :)

Meet The ShapeShifter

A 8ft tall, genderless Cryptid, who can be described as ‘something only seen in nightmares’

It is a Fear-Eating entity capable of reading minds and turning into your deepest darkest fears or a nightmare beyond comprehension and feeds off your negative emotions, it’s favourite emotion being FEAR.

It lives in the dark part of the forest where all the bad stuff is, but at times, if your lucky, can be found in the tree lines by the Town, they are rather shy creatures but if approached it will attack you, both mentally and physically, if you are alone it will see this as a hunting opportunity and will try to feed off your fear. So the most important rule is to NEVER BE ALONE, however If there is more then one hunting you and your group it is advised to leave the area as quickly as possible.

There are often signs you are being stalked by a ShapeShifter.

1. Cold Temperatures - the presence of a ShapeShifter causes the Temperature near it (exactly 12 feet) to become colder then normal.

2. Breathing - you will often feel breathing on your neck, but you turn around and nothing is there, this is the ShapeShifter trying to spike your adrenaline levels before giving you the final scare.

3. ‘Hallucinations’ - you may see strange horrific creatures out of the corner of your eye, that means it is trying to get your guard up, if you are seeing these ‘Hallucinations’, that means it is about to attack

Once it has successfully scared you it will proceed to suck that fear out of you and feed off it, it will almost feel like a fraction of your life is being sucked out of you, and you will pass out not long after, once done it will leave you passed out where ever you are, before someody finds you, however this could leave you vulnerable to other dangerous Cryptids, and not many ShapeShifter victims are found due to this.

A way of avoiding such a fate is simple, do not show any forms of fear, ShapeShifters can sniff you out from a Mile away, if you are simply not afraid it will loose interest and leave you be.

Something you should NEVER DO Is physically attack a Shapeshifter, for it will takes this as an invitation to attack you back, a touch for a touch. NEVER PHYSICALLY TOUCH A SHAPESHIFTER.

[queen-scribbles]

8 and/or 9 for Ves/Kurt :3

Private/Public Kiss which ran way, way, WAY away with me and I'm not even a little bit sorry :3

Wonder

---

The reflection staring back at Vesper conveyed many things well, but not the grin stretching practically ear to ear. She used it to check her earrings were hanging straight, that the lace trimming the neckline of her dress wasn’t smushed. She took a calming breath--Almost time--but even the reflected grin didn’t shrink by a fraction.

Her grin was more accurately reflected on Síora’s face as her friend slipped into the room. “Oh, carants, you are lovely!” She crossed the room to take Vesper’s hands in hers. “I am honored to be included in this day.”

“Of course. You’re the closest thing I have to family,” Vesper said, squeezing her hands. “You’re one of the people I want here most.”

Síora squeezed her hands back before letting go. “I have a gift for you.” She reached in one of the small pouches on her decorative belt and pulled something out to press into Vesper’s palm.

It was a small charm on a woven cord, oblong rather than the triangular ones several of their group had dangling from their gear. The cord was long enough to be tied as a belt or sash, carefully woven with soft blue and sunny gold thread, two small soft grey feathers bound to the edge.

“It is for good fortune,” Síora explained as Vesper turned the charm over in her hands. “And for long-lasting happiness, which is what I wish for you, both of you, more than anything, my friend.”

Vesper embraced her with fiercely whispered thanks, then tied the cord at the lower edge of her bodice so the charm hung down among the folds of her skirt. “Like so?” She smiled at Síora’s affirming nod, checked her hair and earrings one last time in the mirror, running her fingers over the carved bone necklace to make sure everything was perfect. It still reflected only a pale shadow of her smile.

“I believe the time is near, carants,” Síora said, all but beaming. It made Vesper wonder how much of her own anticipation showed. “Are you ready?”

Vesper pressed her fingers to the necklace, thought briefly of each mother who had passed it along to her, and nodded. “Oh, very much so,” she confirmed with an exhilarated smile. More than I have been for anything in my life.

---

It was only a short walk to the throne room, which was a good thing. Vesper struggled enough with maintaining a decorous pace as it was; had the distance been any longer she may have broken into a sprint.

When the doors opened to admit them, Vesper made sure to survey the chamber, taking in all the gathered faces. She knew once she found one in particular, her focus would be unwavering. Best to commit what she could to memory before it all faded to the background. She tried not to dwell on the one face she wished was there but wasn’t. (Constantin would have been insufferably excited and the ghost of his enthusiasm was keenly felt.)

Her gaze traveled over familiar faces--friends, allies, Mother Cardinal Cornelia, who was officiating, and then slowed to a halt on Kurt.

She’d been right; everything else faded into mute, vague periphery when she saw him. He hadn’t shaved--which she’d been hoping would be the case--but his outfit was the nicest thing she’d seen him wear by a mile. Crisp white shirt, dark trousers, and a jacket so deep blue it made the piercing grey of his eyes stand out even more than usual. Eyes locked with hers and saying a thousand things neither of them would ever manage to put into words. It suddenly didn’t matter there was a watching crowd, or Mother Cardinal Cornelia standing ready, or anyone else. There was no one in the world save her and Kurt.

--And Síora, gently tugging Vesper back into motion, as her feet had stopped with her gaze. Vesper stumbled slightly, her grin somehow going even wider and eyes still locked with Kurt’s as she let Síora guide her forward. She wondered if his heart was pounding as hard as hers. 

The last few steps to join him seemed to take an eternity, but finally she was close enough to slip her hands in his. Síora gave her arm a final squeeze, sent them each a small smile, and stepped away. 

Vesper shifted closer to Kurt, relishing the brush of calloused fingers against her skin, gentle as he always was with her. She squeezed his hands, not even attempting to fight her grin. There was a small charm peaking out of his pocket, very much like the one Síora had given her.

“Ready?” she murmured. She knew a crowd this size wasn’t his preference--it wasn’t hers, either. But with everything the island had been through in the past year, people needed something to celebrate. Governor de Morange had been been very persuasive in her suggestion the wedding of New Sérène’s legate was just such an occasion. So even if they would both have been fine doing this in a no-name chapel with only their friends as witness, here they stood.

“More than,” Kurt returned, eyes shining and voice rough. “Vesper, you...” He cleared his throat and held his silence as Cornelia started speaking.

Vesper was blind to the audience, listening just enough to the Mother Cardinal’s words to follow the ceremony, her gaze, her heart, her focus locked with Kurt’s. The joy and anticipation cresting, building, overflowing in in her chest was too much to do otherwise. It was all she could do to keep her breathing steady, to maintain decorum and not start bouncing on her toes as they worked their way through the dictum, the blessing, the vows. And from the twinkle in Kurt’s eyes he wasn’t doing much better.

As they drew near the ending pronouncement, Vesper’s excitement overruled her sense of decorum and she did start bouncing. Just a faint rocking up on her toes, but she was sure at least some of the guests noticed. She didn’t care. Say it, say it, say it-!

The second the words “man and wife” left Cornelia’s mouth Vesper surged forward. She and Kurt released each other’s hands in the same moment, newly exchanged rings catching the sunlight as his arms wrapped around her waist and hers around his neck. They were both grinning as their mouths met in a fervent kiss. Vesper’s feet came off the ground and Kurt shifted half a step back to compensate balance for her enthusiasm, a laugh rumbling in his chest.

(She was pretty sure she heard chuckles from her friends as she found her footing, dipping briefly backwards with the continuing kiss. Let them laugh.)

They finally broke apart, foreheads resting together as they absorbed the polite cheers of their guests. Kurt’s thumb caressed her cheek, tracing her jaw, the boundary of her mark, her cheekbone. 

“You seem excited, wife,” he said softly, the gentle teasing not masking the wonder in his eyes. The moniker and the tenderness with which he uttered it sent a thrill shivering down her spine.

Vesper shifted her hand to cup the side of his face. “Can you blame me? Husband,” she murmured, emotion making her voice squeak and waver on the word.

Kurt’s smile was at least the match of hers. “No, I can’t,” he said huskily, hand sliding to the back of her head, fingers digging into her hair.

He kissed her again and and the incandescent joy made it hard to breathe. Harder still to remember they still had an audience.

---

The next few hours passed in a whirl, full of celebration, well-wishes that ranged from polite strangers to enthusiastic friends.

Vesper, of course, knew every one, even if the mere thought of remembering all those names and faces made Kurt dizzy. He didn’t know how she kept it straight. Just one more way in which she was a wonder.

It was almost enough to make him wonder if this was real. He was more than content that she loved him(for some reason), that she wanted him for whatever time they had.

That she’d brought up and carried through making that time the rest of their lives was so far beyond what he’d ever dared hope or dream for his life it left him a bit breathless. There was an ache of emotion sitting tight in his chest Kurt could neither explain nor dissipate. Not that he wanted to. He ran a look over the room, bodyguard’s instincts impossible to stem, even at his wedding. If anything, they felt sharper than usual. 

“Looking out for our-- well, your Legate?” Vasco asked, strolling over to lean against the wall near where Kurt stood.

“I did just swear an oath to defend her with my life beyond even the former contract,” he replied dryly. “And some habits can’t be laid aside.”

“No aspersions, Captain,” Vasco said with a genial laugh, half-raising his hands.  “It’s a lucky thing you can have each others’ backs in the face of any storms you may face.”

“Given her role, I think storms are inevitable,” Kurt said, watching Vesper smile as she conversed with the governor. “But those storms haven’t met her.”

Vasco chuckled. “You have indeed married a force of nature, my friend. The gentlest one I’ve encountered by far, but even a gentle stream can wear away hardened stone.”

Kurt nodded, too entranced by Vesper’s smile, the curve of her jaw, the warmth in her eyes, to look away or do more than grunt a noncommittal reply. Even to her praises being sung.

Vasco took it in stride, smile tugging his lips as he commented, ”With the way you’re looking at her, it’s a wonder you’re not joined at the hip,”  His eyes twinkled. “Though I suppose that part comes later, does it not?” He grinned at the flat look Kurt sent him, and leaned in closer, tone conspiratorial. “Much as she thrives on this, I don’t think your wife would mind if you stole her away from us.”

If that moniker ever stopped sending warmth buzzing through his veins, it would very likely mean he had perished. “You think?”

“It is all but a certainty,” Vasco said, head tipping toward Vesper, who was now watching them converse. Her grey eyes were doe-soft as they met his, and Kurt couldn’t resist temptation any longer, decorum be damned.

“I’ll take your word,” he muttered, and then was moving. In keeping with Vasco’s nudge, Vesper met him not quite halfway, her hand settling soft on his chest as his arm wrapped around her waist.

 “I’m tired of sharing,” he whispered in her ear.

She hummed a small laugh and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “So am I.”

“Well, then,” Kurt pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “I think it’s time we take our leave, sweet excellency.”

“Well past,” she agreed, and they started moving for the door.

---

It wasn’t half as hard as Kurt feared to extricate themselves from the affair. Half the guests seemed to be expecting their departure, and it was very likely the celebration would continue a good few hours yet even without them. Kurt didn’t care what the did so long as it left the palace standing, he didn’t care about anything save Vesper all but dragging him up the stairs.

“Is it wrong that I’m pleasantly surprised today went off without a hitch?” she asked with a small laugh when they reached the landing. 

“So long as it’s pleasantly,” Kurt chuckled. “Considerin’ how mishaps and excitement have dogged our heels since we stepped off the ship, I’d say no.”

“Good. I thought I might be getting cynical,” Vesper said lightly, heading for the bedroom door. “I had very high hopes for today, and they’ve been met in every respect but one.”

The twinkle in her eye made it the most obvious bait Kurt had ever seen, but he took it anyway. “And what respect would that be?” he asked, halting so close he was in her space.

She paused with her hand on the knob, mischievous smile pulling at her lips that all but undid him. “I haven’t gotten to kiss my husband nearly as much as I’d like.”

He laughed softly and tipped up her chin, thumb brushing her lower lip. “Lucky that’s easily remedied; it’s the one area I’d hope to exceed expectation.”

She opened her mouth to reply just as he kissed her, whatever she meant to say lost in a soft groan instead. Kurt’s fingers slid back toward her nape, tangling in her hair.

Vesper leaned into the kiss, one hand curving to the side of his neck, the other pressing against the doorknob until it twisted under the pressure and they stumbled into the room.

“Well, there’s our mishap for the day, I suppose,” she giggled, her hand now clutching his jacket collar for help holding her balance.

Kurt exhaled a laugh and rested his forehead to hers as she closed the door and leaned against it. “If that’s the worst we have to contend with, I’ll gladly take it,” he murmured, tracing her jaw with his thumb. A worry that had sat at the back of his mind for weeks now finally felt safe to voice. “Not to cast a dour mood over the happiest day of my life, but I am surprised your uncle didn’t try anything to delay or prevent this.” He arched a brow when she rolled her lips. “Assuming you wrote him?”

“Oh, I would never be so remiss as to not inform the Prince D’Orsay of my intentions,” Vesper said innocently, leaning her head back against the door to meet his eye. “I wrote him of my plans to wed, who I intended to marry and why. Made it abundantly clear I was declaring a planned course of action, not seeking permission or his blessing, then ensured the letter was safely aboard a ship headed for Sérène.” Her thumb traced an arc against his cheek, her eyes sparkling. “A month ago.”

In other words, the letter probably hadn’t even made it to the continent yet, let alone her uncle’s desk.

Kurt’s shoulder’s shook with laughter he couldn’t contain. “You are...” A minx. A marvel. So good at these games. “A wonder.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you so much.”

“And I you.” Vesper laced her fingers together around the back of his neck.  “Which is why I refuse to let anything, even my uncle, stand in the way of us being together. I love you and I want you, political machinations be damned.”

It still made it hard to breathe when she was so plain about it. “Someday I’ll figure what I did to deserve you,” he managed.

“And I’ll happily reel off my list until it sinks in,” she returned quietly, sliding both hands forward to cup his jaw. “You are enough, Kurt. Just you.”

“Vesper...” When she said it like that, looked at him like that, it made him want to believe it as strongly as she did. He kissed her again, hoping it would convey gratitude better than his fumbling words ever could.

She pressed into the kiss as well, hands clasping his collar to give her leverage. His hands settled on her waist to hold her close, neither wanting to break for more than quick gasps of air until the need became too great. 

Vesper stepped back first, gasping a deep breath and taking a moment to compose herself before she looked up to meet his gaze again. “Now, since we’ve established my uncle won’t be bothering us for a while... I think we’re both wearing too many clothes,” she said, twinkle in her eye.  “Though I must say, you clean up nicely, Captain.”

Kurt chuckled and brushed back wisps of her thoroughly mussed hair. “Not half so well as you, Excellency,” he countered, kissing the bridge of her nose.

“Almost a shame it has to come off,” she teased, hands trailing down the front to pick at the fastenings.

He slid one hand around her back, ran a finger up the lacing of her dress with just enough pressure to watch her bite her lip. “It doesn’t have to, if you’re enjoying it so much,” he murmured in her ear. 

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find other occasions for you to dress up,” she whispered back, nimble fingers unhooking the top few even as she spoke.

Kurt smiled and stole another kiss, shrugging out of the jacket as she undid the last fastening. Vesper’s now-free hands returned to cradling his jaw as she kissed him back. They lingered a moment before she withdrew and turned to allow him easier access for unlacing her dress.

“Which also means other occasions for this-” Her breath caught at the kiss he brushed to the curve of her neck as he started to unwork the laces. “Kurt-!”

A smile tugged his lips as his finger fingers tugged the laces. “Yes, wife?” he murmured against her skin before repeating the kiss.

Vesper’s shoulders rolled and a hum of pleasure escaped her. “....don’t dawdle.”

That was never a risk with her, even less so today, as his heart felt ready to beat out of his chest, but he couldn’t resist. “Quite the change of tune,” he whispered, even as he reached the bottom of the lacing and the dress fell loose.

Vesper pivoted, wriggled free of the soft purple gown, which she draped haphazardly over a chair near where his jacket had fallen. “As I said, there will be other occasions, husband.” She looped an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “For many things,” she murmured against his lips.

She was right and he knew it and it was the final nudge Kurt needed to sweep her up in his arms and head for the bed. While he would acquiesce and not dawdle too much, he did want to enjoy this. Even knowing she was right--there would be many more occasions, for many things.

A whole lifetime of them.

[chetsetradio]

My Impossible List

My name is Chester, and I'm sure you've seen this list of things before. Something about it being different from a bucket list (and it is different than a bucket list) -- look, I got my inspiration from Thomas Frank, who got the inspiration from Joel Runyon.

In my own words, the impossible list is a continuous list that inspires growth and documents strides in personal development. A helpful tool that can aide in motivation. Not a set and forget, but a thoughtful pondering, organized list, and an updating system, where you log when you've achieved something and what you're going to do next. Like most people, I've set my list up with different categories.

Current Focuses:

Honestly, getting my life together. I've been slacking in health overall, and I need to start taking care of myself both physical and mental health-wise. Trying to hyper focus on learning new skills, mindfulness, and fitness/health.

Last 5 Completed Goals:

*crickets* Well of course there's going to be crickets right now, this list has just come to fruition. I will update with my most recent goals as I complete them!

LIFE GOALS

-> Own a home in my hometown -> Own a place somewhere else, too -> Borderline Personality Disorder symptoms in remission -> Create and maintain a healthy relationship with a significant other -> Make enough money through passionate endeavors (video games, YouTube, writing) that I only have to "work" work part-time -> Become a published author -> Pay off my debt -> 30k Student Loans -> 15k Car -> 9k Credit Cards -> Learn about stocks and investments -> invest money

PROFESSIONAL GOALS

WORK

-> Stay at the library for as long as possible (5yrs pension starts, 10yrs student loans are forgiven, 15yrs max vacation time) -> Earn blue in 2 categories in yearly review -> Earn blue in majority of categories in yearly review -> Earn blue overall in yearly review

YOUTUBE CHETSETRADIO

-> Set up channel -> Upload 5 10 25 50 videos -> Gain 10 25 75 100 250 subscribers

CHETTERBOX TALKS

-> Set up channel -> Upload 5 10 25 50 videos -> Gain 10 25 75 100 250 subscribers

OTHER

-> create and publish a video game

FITNESS & HEALTH GOALS

-> Lose 100lbs -> Walk to work 3 days a week for 1 month 6 months 1 year -> Work out everyday for 1 month 6 months 1 year -> No take out for a month straight -> Learn how to cook -> Add more fruits and vegetables to my everyday diet -> Walk 5 miles -> Run a mile -> Run a mile in less than 9 minutes -> Participate in some sort of race (run?) -> Swim 500 free with no problem -> No soda for 1 month

CREATIVE GOALS

-> Fill up a sketchbook with art that I'm proud of -> Release an EP -> Participate in NaNoWriMo 2024 -> Self publish a novel -> Traditionally publish a novel -> Re-learn how to play the Alto Saxophone -> Learn how to play the Trumpet -> Learn how to play the Cello -> Learn how to play the Flute -> Learn how to play the French Horn -> Learn how to crochet -> Follow a short story writing prompt daily for 1 month

SKILLS & EDUCATIONAL GOALS

-> Learn how to code -> Make my own website -> Program my own video game -> Learn Music Theory -> Beginner Intermediate Advanced -> Learn Logic Pro -> Beginner Intermediate Advanced -> Learn Japanese -> Beginner Intermediate Advanced -> Learn German -> Beginner Intermediate Advanced -> Learn Korean -> Beginner Intermediate Advanced -> Learn ASL -> Beginner Intermediate Advanced -> Go back to school for my Master's -> Learn fractions, pre-algebra, and algebra

HABIT GOALS

-> Do my morning routine for 1 month 6 months 1 year -> Do my nighttime routine for 1 month 6 months 1 year -> Walk Pancake once a day for 1 month 6 months 1 year -> Meditate once a day for 1 month 6 months 1 year -> Journal daily for 1 month 6 months 1 year

TRAVEL GOALS

-> Visit every state in the US ( 3/50 ) -> Visit every state park in the US -> Camp in a different state -> Visit Greece -> Visit Japan -> Visit Korea -> Visit the UK -> Visit Ireland -> Visit Finland -> Ride a bullet train -> See the Hollywood sign up close in person -> Visit Stephen King's hometown ( Portland, Maine )

VIDEO GAME GOALS

STEAM

-> Perfect achievo 5 10 15 25 40 games -> All achievements in Hades -> All achievements in Slime Rancher

PLAYSTATION

-> Platinum 5 10 25 50 games

XBOX

-> Perfect achievo 5 10 25 50 games

NINTENDO

-> Finish Pokémon Sword -> Finish Pokémon Arceus -> All moons Super Mario Odyssey

GOAL INSANITY

-> Sky dive -> Bungee jump -> Meet a celebrity I like IRL -> Go to five different amusement parks -> Get a PHD -> Teach a class at a University -> Forever a student (so many degrees) -> Earn enough money to retire early

[deathbyseventeen]

As the World Caves In

pairing: Dino/Chan x f!reader

genre: post-apocalyptic, romance/fluff, angst | zombie!au

word count: ≅3.02k

series: To be Together

chapter warnings: lots of allusions to death and dying, makeshift weapons

summary: The world ended on a Tuesday in November, days after Halloween, when the sun was less than an hour away from setting. Chan had just left his dorm’s building, late to his History of Dance 136A lecture, when it happened. You hadn’t been as lucky on the day the world began to crumble.

a/n: hello again :) take a chance on this fic, maybe?  oh boy.. oh boy oh boy oh boy

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{intro} + {3 days since the end} + {7 days since the end} + {10 days since the end} + {20 days since the end} + {24 days since the end} + {27 days since the end} + {a month since the end} 

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3 Days Since the End

Chan doesn’t want to understand why leaving the safety of his dorm room is an option, to begin with. But then his stomach rumbles again, and he’s forced to eat the last granola bar he has (after days of saving it) as he tries not to hurl at the thought of what he has to do.

Minutes later, he’s taking a peek out of his window, moving the curtains only a fraction of an inch as if the zombies littering the fields outside were capable of looking up and noticing the living body studying them from the fifth floor, fearfully. Then he sees it, the football stadium a mile away, and he knows he has to go. 

Without letting the curtain fall shut, he twists around to look at the jar of strawberry jam on the half-wall kitchen counter. Empty. Cleaned of even the jam that usually sticks to the sides of the jar.

He looks out the window again and studies the living dead he can see surrounding the building. He starts to count and then stops. There are too many, and the more he counts, the more he feels like the granola bar is about to make its way back out the way it went in.

It only takes Chan ten minutes to tape a knife to a long, black umbrella he owns (a knifebrella, he names it without noticing), grab the football helmet that wound up in his possession after a frat party he doesn’t remember much about, and empty the duffle bag he usually took to his dance lessons. It takes him another ten minutes to take down all the furniture he had stacked against the door for protection.

He thinks about the plan the entire time. 

He’ll go down the emergency exit, prop the door open with a brick he knows other students had left there to sneak back inside after curfew and take the long way around to the football stadium. He’ll have to go towards campus first, away from the stadium, where there are probably more zombies--he forces himself to breathe at the thought-- but there'll be more places to hide than just running across the fields and parking lots he knows don’t have any places to properly hide.

Getting to the booster room would be easy. He nods to himself. That room was always open on account of the university’s teams always having the snack shop open for business--since the field is always open for students to work out there or the gym only a street away. Then he’d retrace his steps and go the long way back to his building. He’d know where to hide this time around. 

It’s when his hand is finally on the doorknob that his thoughts force him to stop. Oh, why couldn’t he have gone grocery shopping on Sunday when he always does? It’s routine. ROUTINE. Maybe he can just scavenge the other dorms, start on this floor before making his way up and then down, or maybe start below first and make his way-- 

His phone buzzes in even staccatos in his pocket.

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕 

Jeonghan  Check in when you get there [12:32pm]

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕 

Seungkwan  Don’t die, loser [12:32pm]

He stares at the texts for a minute, then another one comes in. 

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Hoshi  Stay safe, chan! [12:33pm] 

Chan’s resolve is fixed, though he still believes he’s walking into death’s arms. 

It takes him a few more seconds to open them, type out a response and send it. Then, his hand is on the doorknob again, and he’s slipping past the open door.

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Chan  Thanks. Will do. Leaving now. [12:34pm]

☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡

Sweat runs down Chan’s face as he opens one of the side doors belonging to the football stadium. It’s the only entrance he’s found that isn’t overrun by the living dead. He hopes as he pokes his head inside that the halls aren’t overrun like the other surrounding areas outside the stadium are.

He’s lucky. He doesn’t see a single one down the expanse of the hall, and he wastes no time to go inside, jamming a wad of paper into the latch port so it won’t click as he closes the door as gently as he can.

He’s only ever been to the stadium twice before, once for mandatory Freshmen orientation and another time for an extra credit assignment. Still, he manages to find the snack bar without any trouble, no wrong turns, and no living dead.

He’s surprised but doesn’t dwell on it, lest he overthink it and turn his luck sour.

There are some snacks, protein bars, and water bottles in the display case under the register and cold hotdogs in the rotisserie on another counter behind it. It takes him less than a second to decide to leave those behind and head for the booster’s storage room instead. It’s down the next hall, if he remembers correctly, and he does. He finds it unlocked and hurries to stuff as many bags of everything they have. 

Nacho chips, protein bars, peanuts, hot dog packs, buns, noodle cups, and water bottles on top of water bottles. It doesn’t take long for Chan’s bag to fill.

Soon enough, he’s pushing the door open and scrambling to raise the knife end of his umbrella.

Two zombies, the skin of their faces starting to sag like those cartoon popsicles with deformed and melting faces, greet him with clicking moans. As one lurches forward, Chan drives his knife through its forehead, then uses the heel of his foot to push it off. The other one moves forward just as he does this. But Chan manages to dive past it and run down the hall he came from.

He’s getting ready to turn down the corner and run all the way to the exit he came from when he’s forced to a stop. He hears not one or two but a jumble of clicking moans. He turns the corner slowly, holding his knifebrella up like a sword, and holds back the urge to hurl.

Down the hallways he needs to go through, as far as he can see, the living dead have now invaded. Though, they don’t seem to be aware of his presence yet.

Nodding to himself, he gives himself a moment to breathe, then takes three steps forward and stops. He checks to make sure none of the zombies have noticed him, then takes another couple of steps forward and repeats the process again.

Chan doesn’t understand. He really doesn’t. But, no matter how hard he thinks about it, he can’t come up with an explanation. It’s not like zombies could just magically appear. He didn’t want to think about the specifics of a zombie, but still, they weren’t magic. 

He’s halfway across the stadium, halfway to the door, when he freezes. It’s not the smartest move, he’ll beat himself up about it later, but he’s panicking. The sound of footsteps pounding against the stadium’s linoleum floor echoes loudly from his right, and he knows, though he doesn’t realize he’s even thinking about it, that those zombies, the ones roaming the hall behind him and those ahead of him, can hear it too.

Then, a terrified scream erupts from the same direction. Then a second one. Then a third, long and just as horrible, and he knows there’s no chance in hell these zombies are going to ignore them.

His head turns when a fourth scream turns into a fifth and becomes a constant symphony of panic. Down the hall, he can see it perfectly, a horde of zombies are cornering someone into a row of vending machines.

Chan’s breath catches in his throat. Behind him, the living dead are beginning to approach him. He can feel it. The hairs on his arms start to bristle, and he can feel the goosebumps littering them. He knows he has to go. His time is running out.

He’s already taken a step forward when his heart stops, and he realizes that he may just be the stupidest man alive. What with all the zombies around, it’s probably not much of a contest. But, still, if there was, he’d be a strong contender.

It’s fleeting, but Chan catches a quick glance of your face, and he knows he can’t leave you behind. You’re not friends. He’s never said a word to you before, nor you to him, but he’s seen you before. He knows he has. You’re in one of his courses, Art Forms in History 12B, if he remembers correctly. It’s impossible now. He’s moving before he even knows it. He can’t leave you behind. He’d never be able to forgive himself, and your face and your screams would join his cacophony of nightmares. 

“Get up!” Chan screams as he runs toward you. “Get up! Run!” He wields his umbrella like a bat and swings it against the zombies nearest to him. It’s only when he’s closest to you, and the remaining horde of zombies are tightening around you, that he opens it like it’s begun to rain, finally using it as a makeshift shield to get closer to you and shove the zombies away.

He runs up to you, ready to pull you to your feet and run, when a flash of cold runs down his body. You’re slumped against the corner of the vending machine, passed out, and unresponsive. The blade of your hockey stick has broken off and lies at your feet.

When had you stopped screaming?

He thinks back as quickly as he can--he can hear the zombies behind him regaining their footing-- and there’s no time. Chan pushes his duffle bag behind his back and picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder. He looks at the hall from which he came. There’s no going back. There are too many zombies heading in his direction from there. He turns forward instead and, using his umbrella as a shield, runs as fast as he can. The entire time hoping he'll be able to find an exit that isn’t overrun by the living dead.

☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡☡

Chan stares at your sleeping--he hopes it’s sleeping-- figure under the covers of his bed from the door of his bedroom. It’s been an hour since you passed out against a corner of a row of vending machines, zombies moments away from welcoming you into their midsts, and ten since he managed to sneak his way back into his dorm room.

His heart pounds in his chest as he catches glimpses of his kitchen table pressed against the front door from the corner of his eyes. He tries to distract himself, thinking about the others. He really needs to thank Wonwoo later for getting him that long black umbrella as his going away present Freshmen year. It had seemed weird then, a large umbrella with reinforced ribs so it wouldn’t turn inside out when the wind was too strong, but it was certainly paying off now. Mingyu, too, he realizes, for the set of knives he’d gifted him in hopes that it would encourage him to learn to cook his food instead of surviving off of takeout. 

It doesn’t work. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest as he begins to wonder how he can thank them. 

His phone buzzes on the lowest of strengths, in his pocket for the nth time in the last hour. Still, it takes him another minute to take notice of the rhythmic buzzing against his thigh. Then, as if doused with a bucket of iced water, he’s forced back into reality.

There’s a soft click as he closes the door of his bedroom, then turns and goes to settle on the couch. He throws the rag he used to clean the blood off your face and arms into the kitchen sink and pulls out his phone after, on his way there.

There’s a single notification bubble on Chan’s home screen: You have 32 unread messages from 💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕. A second later, it changes to 33, and before he can slide his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone, it changes to 36.

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Seungkwan  Chan. Seriously. Where the hell are you? [04:02pm]

Seungkwan You need to answer us now. [04:02pm]

Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]

Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]

Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]

Hoshi Chan. [04:02pm]

Seungkwan Where the fuck is Chan? [04:02pm]

They come in quick succession, one after the other, giving him no time to scroll through the other messages. Ten more come in while he continues to stare at them blankly, unable to process what he’s looking at as they blur together (even when they stop for a second). 

They go unnoticed until he remembers what he’d been doing and squeezes his eyes shut.

When he opens them again, the messages are still coming. 

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Seungkwan Chan you little shit, answer us. [4:05pm]

Seungkwan We can see you’re online. [4:05pm]

Jeonghan Chan? [4:05pm]   

Seungkwan All the messages say read by Chan [4:05pm]

Hoshi Chan, what’s going on? [4:05pm] 

He grimaces and finally types out a quick answer. 

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Chan I’m here. Got a little busy. Got home uh twenty min ago [4:06pm] 

Chan Forgot to check in [4:06pm] 

The response was practically instantaneous. 

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Seungkwan MOTHERFUCKER [4;06pm]

Seungkwan WE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD [4;06pm]

Vernon Wait. Hold up. No *we* didn’t. [4:07pm]

Jeonghan That was all you, Seungkwan. I told you he was alive [4:07pm]

Seungkwan Only because YOU would have brought him back to life just to kill him again if he wasn’t [4:07pm]

Hoshi Chanie? What happened??? You said you’d check in when you were safe [4:08pm]

Chan chews on his lips absentmindedly, thumb twitching over the screen until he sighs.

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Chan There was a little incident [4:09pm]

Jeonghan Incident? What do you mean incident? [4:09pm]

Seungkwan What did you do? [4:09pm]

Chan grimaces. He doesn’t want to tell them, but his actions are quickly catching up with him, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t tell someone.

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Chan I saved this girl from my art history class from becoming dead food [4:11pm]

Seungkwan Oh my god [4:12pm] 

Hoshi But you’re okay right? [4:12pm]

Chan Yeah yeah I’m good [4:12pm]

Seungkwan You actually did something good? I need proof. I don’t buy it. [4:13pm]

Jeonghan Well? What happened? [4:13pm]

Chan There were a shit ton of zombies when I came out of the booster room. I heard a scream from one of the hallways I was passing. Turned out to be this girl I have in class. I couldn’t just leave her guys. I could see her. I could see the zombies closing in on her I couldn’t [4:15pm] 

Cheol It’s alright, Chan. Breathe. You’re ok. You did the right thing. [4:16pm] 

Hoshi Chan the brave! Chan the hero! [4:16pm] 

Vernon Soooo… [4:17pm] 

Seungkwan So??? [4:17pm]

Vernon Well??? [4:17pm]

Seungkwan ???? [4:17pm]

Vernon What else? What’d you do? You don’t just save someone magically [4:18pm]

.

.

.

Hoshi Chan???????? [4:25pm] 

Though his screen had blacked minutes ago, his gaze still rested on it. He could feel it, the rage that would be unleashed on him if he told them the truth of what he had done. The truth of it all was beginning to dawn on him. It hadn’t before, if only because that hadn’t been a priority, though it should have been. 

He cast a look behind him at his bedroom door and wondered if he’d overlooked any sounds while he’d been speaking to the others. But when silence was the only thing that greeted him, he looked down at his phone again and thought of what he’d say. 

And how he’d say it.

 💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Chan I used the knifebrella to get rid of the zombies closest to her. By the time I got to her, she had passed out at the corner by the vending machines. I think she’d panicked so much she passed out. It’s like her body gave up. She even had this broken hockey stick with her. I don’t know. [4:31pm] 

Unlike before, minutes passed by before he got a response.

 💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Seungkwan Hold on. Did you just say she passed out???? [4:34pm]

Jeonghan She passed out?? [4:35pm]

Vernon What the fuck [4:35pm] 

Cheol Did you fight the entire hoard yourself?! How did you save her if she was passed out?? She couldn’t have helped [4:35pm]

Seungkwan Don’t tell me you ditched the food, you freaking dumbass [4:36pm]

Chan I didn’t [4:37pm] 

Seungkwan Then what the hell did you do??? [4:37pm]

Chan I slug her over my shoulder and ran [4:38pm] 

An influx of messages came then, draining him of whatever battery he had been recharging internally.

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Seungkwan SLUGGED HER OVER YOUR SHOULDER?!?!  [4:38pm] 

Hoshi You did eaht [4:38pm]

Jeonghan YOU CARRIED HER?! [4:38pm]

Cheol TELL ME YOU DIDN’T [4:38pm]

Seungkwan TELL YOU HE DIDNT WHAT?!?! [4:38pm] 

Cheol TELL ME YOU DIDNT DO IT CHAN [4:39pm] 

Seungkwan WHAT DID HE DO?! [4:39pm]

Chan I don’t know what you’re talking about [4:40pm]

Cheol WHERE IS SHE NOW [4:40pm]

Chan Still passed out on my bed [4:42pm]

There was an influx of messages again, and Chan felt like he already knew what they were saying. So, he locked his phone and placed it on the coffee table away from him.

He could still see the messages as they came in, though he didn’t really register them, glossing over them as language lost meaning. 

Then, just as his phone grouped them all together into a single notification bubble of unopened messages, a single text seared into his brain. 

💕💕hannie’s fools 💕💕

Wonwoo Oh, he’s dead isn’t he [4:44pm]

↧↧c↧↧↧↧h↧↧↧↧a↧↧↧↧p↧↧↧↧t↧↧↧↧e↧↧↧↧r↧↧↧↧s↧↧

7 Days Since the End 

[dawn-of-worlds]

A Light For Those Not Home

(3 + 3 + 2d6->5 = 11 power)

The greatest of titans strain and crack the ground with their every step, and when they walk, it is not long before the earth's protestations grow too great, and they must rest again. They must roam the world alone, slowly, and with great care.

But Haebarik, who is god, and who strains the world only when he so desires, can accompany them, and does so frequently.

One day, he was walking along the coast of Baled with an exceptionally great titan called Kerileam, whose stone skin contained veins of iron and whose green hair danced weightlessly in the wind. They spoke of distant lands, and the titans there, of thoughts and feelings and matters of philosophy, and of death and its purpose.

But suddenly, Kerileam slumped down, and punched the ground in rage, which created a small crater. "What good is this talk?" she cried. "Never will I see those lands, for my pace is slow and my legs are heavy. Already the earth tires beneath me, already I must return to stone. I will meet pale death having walked but a fraction of the world, and fail my purpose in every way."

Haebarik watched the outburst with compassion, and embraced the titan, and told her he would help, but she returned to stone doubting.

When she awakened, many years later, Haebarik was there. The deity spoke such:

"I will tell you a means by which you might draw the distant lands to you, and be found when you struggle to find others, even when asleep. But for this I demand service, and if you wish to receive this knowledge, then build my likeness out of stone, and sacrifice a great whale before it."

This puzzled Kerileam, for it was unlike the rootless god to demand such worship. But she set to work, breaking heavy chunks of Baled's black stone from the earth, carving them, fitting them together, replicating the tall and narrow shape of the god, until at last there stood a dark idol, taller than she was tall, that, if you squinted, might look kind of like Haebarik.

And she reached into the seas, and dragged out a whale, and slammed it on a rock (which made the earth tremble and groan, but it knew better than to interrupt her now), and placed its corpse before the simulacrum.

Haebarik, who was silent still, shook his mane of red hair, and frowned in disapproval at her construction, and at the bare black rock atop.

But Kerileam was no fool, and realized what to do at once. She used a boiling spring to render the corpse into oil, and carved a great vessel from the rock. And after many days of work, an oil-filled bowl stood atop the tower, and she set it alight, and the red flames shone brightly atop.

"There!" she proclaimed. "Now at last have I fashioned your likeness, and placed offerings before it, as is custom for the other gods in other lands. Fulfill your promise, then, as I fulfilled mine."

But Haebarik merely smiled enigmatically, and spoke: "I have nothing more to tell you, and nothing more to ask of you."

This angered Kerileam, who grasped a great shard of stone and lifted it high. "I am no mortal supplicant, to be denied at your pleasure, but a great titan, who honored you by choice. If you tell me not, I will tear this idol down at once."

But Haebarik kept smiling, and gestured at the tall tower and the fire burning brightly above. "Behold your creation, Kerileam. This light shall shine even as you sleep, and be seen for many miles. Ships and other titans will be drawn to it, believing it to be a strange new horizon-star, and there they will find you, asleep or awake. You have called the world to you, as I promised to teach you: what more needs to be done?"

And Kerileam realized he spoke truth, and cried tears of joy, and went to sleep calm and hopeful.

Many more titans would learn this secret in time, and construct light-towers of their own: each meant to guide ships into safe harbors. Some arise near cities, others in sheltered bays, others again on small isles.

In Viidako arises a beacon that burns with a shifting rainbow of color. In Morne, a group of curious Págar come to settle beneath a tower, and assist its titan in maintenance. And at the mouth of the Ajuna, a many-tiered building stands, and many young Windborn navigate by its light as they return home.

But three places receive special mention. In those, Haebarik's blood and flesh and sweat are part of the very stone, and the light-towers resonate with his power, drawing in wanderers in much more insubstantial ways. It is said that, remote as they may be, they are destinied to be found, and will reward any who bring about that fate. They are the Tower of Tenacity on Baled, the Tower of Hope on Laeran, and the Tower of Boldness on Haebrach, all of them holy sites kept by the titans.

(Command Race to make the titans construct and maintain major lighthouses near cities and natural harbors all over the world, which sailors quickly learn to navigate by.

In addition, Haebarik invests 2 power in each of the lighthouses located in Baled, Northern Haebrach, and Laeran. Any god can claim 2 power if they perform the action that connects one of these places to the wider world somehow.

2 power left)

[kamelopardaleis]

Outtake2 - 20-year-old drunk Viktor the arrogant jerk :))

Another long-ish outtake of the YOI age reversal AU Something to Give on Ice - Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) [Archive of Our Own]. Basically how Viktor remembered the sudden ascendance of Yuuri to the top of figure skating when they were still competing together. (i.e. POV Viktor of him being rude to Yuuri when he first won - the incidence Yuuri uses to embarrass him at the end of Chapter 3)

>>here it goes<<

When Viktor was 20, Katsuki Yuuri was a surprise to him.

He knew that name, but he had never thought much about it. When Katsuki re-emerged after almost a silence of two years, no one expected him to become the new king of figure skating; all the bets were on Viktor.

Viktor did not assume the top podium his rightful place. Even he was not so arrogant. But he lost by fractions of a point to a no-body. And then, the Olympics, the whole season.

Katsuki Yuuri was the arrogant jerk, not Viktor. Katsuki Yuuri deigned not to talk to anyone, letting no one into his secret of success.

Maybe Viktor was the arrogant one, and the jealous one, instead of Katsuki. But hey, Viktor was drunk, and drunk Viktor wanted to win. Drunk Viktor wanted to talk.

So drunk Viktor went up to the Cold and Aloof Katsuki and told him Viktor was to have all the golds next season, not him. (Now, that is something even Viktor Nikiforov wants to forget, hopefully along with the fact that Katsuki had all the gold later instead of Viktor. Unfortunately, Viktor Nikiforov is Russian, holds his liquor and does not forget.)

Katsuki was shocked into stutters at first, Viktor observed triumphantly. He acknowledged Viktor’ superiority –  the raw talent that none of them could dream of – and Viktor would surpass them all. But then something shifted in Katsuki. He drew himself to his full height (Viktor was the taller one, but Katsuki could be scary, mind you), and told Viktor:

“But I am not going to let you. Not without a fight.”

Sober Viktor was fairer in his assessment of Katsuki than drunk Viktor. 

Katsuki was polite and proper to a default, and probably not cold or arrogant (according to rumours). 

On ice, he was talented, graceful, and ultimately, legendary. Viktor loved watching him, chasing him, with exhilaration, with joy, ambition, and jealousy. With a single-mindedness the 28-year-old Viktor can only marvel at.

Through the years, Viktor saw Katsuki Yuuri, always standing above him, inches but also miles away. Katsuki Yuuri, the skater Viktor aimed to surpass.

Katsuki Yuuri, the skater Viktor did surpass.

The next moment, Katsuki Yuuri disappeared.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

A Daily Boost in Dust Height

Each year, winds carry about 200 million tons of dust from North Africa over the Atlantic Ocean. NASA satellites often capture striking images of long streams of these tiny particles blowing over Senegal and Mali, enveloping Cabo Verde, and sometimes reaching as far as South America.

The image below, captured by the EPIC (Earth Polychromatic Imaging Camera) on DSCOVR (Deep Space Climate Observatory), shows a plume stretching across the Atlantic in June 2020, during one of the largest dust transport events of the past two decades. Nicknamed the “Godzilla” plume, the event affected air quality as far away as the Caribbean and the southeastern United States.

However, natural-color images like this, while dramatic, do not reveal the dust’s height in the atmosphere. “Accurately measuring dust height is crucial for tracking plumes in three dimensions, predicting dust’s impact on weather and climate, and assessing air quality risks,” said Jun Wang, the director of the Atmospheric and Environmental Research Lab at the University of Iowa.

Multiple satellites have measured dust height. For many years, the CALIPSO (Cloud-Aerosol Lidar and Infrared Pathfinder Satellite Observation) satellite used lidar to measure dust height by emitting laser pulses that travel through the atmosphere. Using this active sensor, scientists calculated the height of atmospheric particles by measuring the time it took for light to return to the detector after reflecting off particles in clouds, dust plumes, volcanic ash trails, and haze.

A lidar system on the International Space Station, known as CATS (Cloud-Aerosol Transport System), made similar measurements between 2015 and 2017. The ATLAS (Advanced Topographic Laser Altimeter System) lidar on ICESat-2 (Ice, Cloud, and Land Elevation Satellite-2) continues to use this technology.

A challenge with lidar, however, is that these instruments can only monitor a small fraction of the atmosphere. For example, CALIPSO sampled less than 0.2 percent of the atmosphere every two days during its 17-year mission, which ended in 2023.

To fill the gap, researchers are turning to passive remote sensing technology such as EPIC, which detects naturally emitted energy from the environment. From its position 1 million miles from Earth, EPIC observes the entire Atlantic Ocean every one to two hours. Some of the sunlight reflected from Earth and detected by EPIC is used to create natural-color images like the one at the top of this page. However, the sensor also detects light at several other wavelengths, or “bands,” which can be used to observe clouds, ozone, vegetation, or other features on Earth.

“EPIC wasn’t designed to measure dust height,” explained Wang. “However, our team at the University of Iowa has developed an algorithm that derives that information using information from its oxygen A and B bands.”

Using this algorithm and four years of EPIC observations, the University of Iowa team mapped daily variations in dust height over the Atlantic. The map above shows average dust height at various times of the day during the May-to-October wet season for the years 2015-2019. During this period, daytime convection and winds pull dust to heights of about 5-7 kilometers (3-4 miles) in the late morning and early afternoon as sunlight heats the water and clouds bubble up, explained Edward Nowottnick, an atmospheric scientist at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center.

Other NASA sensors, such as MISR (Multi-angle Imaging Spectroradiometer), also measure dust height, but only once per day. “The improvement with EPIC is that we can track dust height throughout the day at one- to two-hour intervals,” said Nowottnick.

Understanding the height cycles of airborne dust could advance research on multiple fronts, according to the scientists. Meteorologists will study dust's effects on hurricanes. Biologists will study how dust fertilizes ocean phytoplankton blooms. Air pollution experts are interested in its role in air quality degradation and health risks.

“Global models, such as NASA’s Goddard Earth Observing System (GEOS), do not represent daily dust height variations well,” Wang added. “With this EPIC data, models can be updated and improved.”

NASA Earth Observatory image by Wanmei Liang and Joshua Stevens using data from Lu, Z. et al. (2023) and imagery from the Deep Space Climate Observatory (DSCOVR). Story by Adam Voiland.

[hotelsuppliesus]

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Table of Contents

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Festive Discounts You Don’t Want To Miss

To make this season even more rewarding, we offer exclusive discount codes for greater savings. Please take advantage of our limited-time offers and ensure your hotel is ready for a successful holiday season. Here are the discount codes you can enjoy 

1. DZEEJOY50: Get $50 OFF on orders over $1,500

Whether you need luxurious bedding, bathroom essentials, or kitchen supplies, this discount helps you stock up on must-haves while enjoying valuable savings.

2. DZEEWINTER75: Get $75 OFF on orders over $2,500

Planning to restock multiple hotel essentials? Use this code to enjoy even more significant savings while ensuring guests receive a top-tier experience during the festive rush.

3. DZEEC3L3BRATION: Get $120 OFF on orders over $4,000

For larger orders, maximize your budget and unlock significant savings on a wide range of premium hotel supplies, from plush towels and linens to essential toiletries and cleaning products.

These holiday discounts won’t last long. Act now and experience the DZEE Textiles difference—where quality meets exceptional savings. Transform your hotel into a winter wonderland of comfort and luxury with our premium hotel supplies.

StockUp On Premium Hotel Supplies At Unbeatable Prices

Here are the essential categories that you can stock up on

Hotel Bedding

Our premium percale and microfiber bed sheets are made to give the ultra-soft, smooth feel that guests love. These sheets are luxurious, highly durable, and wrinkle-resistant, ensuring your hotel’s rooms look immaculate day after day. Stock up on these premium sheets at a fraction of the cost and keep your hotel looking its best, even during peak seasons!

Hotel Bath Towels

Our plush, high-quality towels add a touch of luxury to your bathrooms, giving guests the perfect post-shower experience. These towels maintain their softness and absorbency, from large bath towels to hand towels and washcloths, even after multiple washes. With the holiday rush, the demand for towels skyrockets—now is the time to take advantage of our unbeatable prices and stock up to ensure your guests always feel cared for.

 Bathroom Essentials

The bathroom experience of your guests can either make or break their stay. Ensure their satisfaction with high-quality toilet paper, shampoos, conditioners, and toiletries from DZEE Textiles. Our products are designed for comfort, providing gentle, soothing options for your guests’ personal care needs. 

Housekeeping Essentials 

DZEE Textiles has everything you need to maintain cleanliness and efficiency across your property, from kitchen paper rolls to heavy-duty garbage bags and cleaning sponges. Take advantage of this opportunity to secure top-quality products at unbeatable prices, ensuring your staff has everything they need to deliver exceptional service throughout the holiday rush.

Celebrate The Season With DZEE Textile

The holiday season is all about creating those unforgettable experiences and memories. Being a hotelier, you play a big role in making those moments memorable.

This is the time to go the extra mile for your guests, ensuring they feel the warmth, comfort, and care that only a truly great hotel can provide. 

At DZEE Textiles, we understand the hard work behind delivering excellent service and are here to make the journey a little easier with our special Christmas sales. As you prepare for guests this season, let us support you with the best supplies at prices that will make your efforts even more rewarding.

Once again, we wish you a joyful and prosperous holiday season ahead!