#this is the gist of the next page though

[oceandiagonale]

I love them, they haven't seen each other in 3/4 of a year and they're still so full of spite for each other <3

[3liza]

i said this YEARS ago when the 'vibes based literacy" discussion started because i had been reading about dyslexia to try to help my partner at the time, who was undiagnosed: the book about dyslexia that i was reading described precisely the techniques used in the "contextual guessing" reading education system, but as dysfunctional adaptations by dyslexic children. the contect guessing and memorization thing is a way of teaching entire generations of children to be functionally dyslexic, a profound and devastating disability, when they do not have dyslexia and do not need to have it. it's horrifying. it was how my partner read things, and watching him try to read something out loud was extremely demonstrative of the struggle he was having.

ken goodman probably had dyslexia and didn't know it, it's the most common learning disability in the world, an estimated 20% of all humans on earth have some degree of it.

In the paper, Goodman rejected the idea that reading is a precise process that involves exact or detailed perception of letters or words. Instead, he argued that as people read, they make predictions about the words on the page using these three cues: 1. graphic cues (what do the letters tell you about what the word might be?) 2. syntactic cues (what kind of word could it be, for example, a noun or a verb?) 3. semantic cues (what word would make sense here, based on the context?) Goodman concluded that: Skill in reading involves not greater precision, but more accurate first guesses based on better sampling techniques, greater control over language structure, broadened experiences and increased conceptual development. As the child develops reading skill and speed, he uses increasingly fewer graphic cues.

he's completely wrong, this not how fully literate people read. this is how dyslexic people read. fully literate people are using phonics and the alphabet all the time, that's how we read so fast and so easily, even texts that we're unfamiliar with or that aren't in our native language. i can scan a page of italian, french or norwegian and get the gist of it even though i don't speak the languages. i can sound out those words and pronounce them, even if im pronouncing them incorrectly, just by reading the actual letters and phonemes.

relying on context to predict which word comes next is what leads to the kind of aphasia dyslexics often exhibit not only while reading, but when speaking aloud. my partner would swap words that were contextually correct but not what he actually meant all the time. for example if he wanted me to hand him a blue comb lying nearby on a table, he would say "could you please hand me the green brush?" or if he was describing a cat he saw, he would often swap in another contextually-related word, one that sounded the same, like "bat", or one that was conceptually related but incorrect, like "dog". as a result i had to ask him to clarify or repeat himself many times to figure out what he was trying to say. it created profound problems for him and separated him from me and everyone else. the worst part is that he was barely aware of this. when he was driving it was extremely difficult for him to follow or give directions because he would swap out "left" and 'right" randomly.

you cant actually read like this.

She thinks the students who learned three cueing were actually harmed by the approach. "I did lasting damage to these kids. It was so hard to ever get them to stop looking at a picture to guess what a word would be. It was so hard to ever get them to slow down and sound a word out because they had had this experience of knowing that you predict what you read before you read it."

[bonus-links]

Ahem, if I may impose.... Directors commentary?? 😁😁

YEAHHH lots to say abt this one

i know rule number one is don't point out the flaws in ur own work but i have to confess. i forgot to add hair highlights to this entire update. i didn't realize until i had already queued up the posts and i could not bear re-exporting and color correcting every page again. so i just let it be. it only kills me a little bit. they rlly add something y'know

i haven't seen a whole lot of comments about this to the point i worry i didn't do a good job of conveying it so: Loft's dream at the beginning is about ganondorf.

Loft has, in fact, chewed his nails to bits.

i'm gonna be so real, part of the delay for this update was bc my brain got so stuck on the logistics of where that damn bookshelf would go

korok bookends :D

i like to think the story of the hero of time is actually mostly an oral tradition on Outset, or at least that's how Gran Gran first told Link and Aryll the stories when they were children.

i worry a little bit about these 'lore recap" updates, bc like. I'm assuming you've played the games, or at least know the gist. but I feel like there's a few stories it's important for us to see Loft's direct reactions to, and the conclusions he draws from them, because it'll be important to his actions later. I try to make up for it by at least making these sections visually interesting HAHA i think this is the last major one though

on that note: I hope this comes across on its own, but Loft finishes Gran Gran's story himself because he's just realized the flood was sent by the gods, and not some external force of evil. he's also realizing that this is not the first time the gods have been willing to wipe the slate clean in the absence of a hero, and that it's actually something of a pattern. it runs up against his idea of how Demise's curse is meant to work. this is one such mystery mouseketool we'll use later.

also on that note: regardless of ganondorf's actions, i find it significant that the gods chose to destroy a man whose people suffered in a droughted desert with,,,,a flood. that thought was the conceit for this update

Loft has seen this play out in his dreams, but obviously doesn't fully know the context. also I'm gonna refer to this version of zelda as Sheik. he uses he/him pronouns thank you :-)

just wanted to show some closeups of the stained glass bc. i worked hard on them HAHA + the grayscale wip

i was really hoping this chapter would be done. last year. it was meant to be a chance to slow down for a second before the plot speeds up 😅 but we're nearing the last few updates!! thank you all for bearing with me <3 life has been kind of insane and extremely discouraging irl, so getting to post these updates and seeing you all enjoy them has been a real bright spot <333 special thank you to my patreon supporters bc. seriously it has helped more than you know.

i think that's all ive got for now! see you next time, hopefully sooner than 4-5 business months

[arminsumi]

❀ 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝟓 Gojo Satoru / Geto Suguru

Falling in love despite a language barrier.

𝐂𝐡. 𝟓 | 𝐖𝐜. 𝟒𝐤 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summer with you felt fuller and brighter than any other.

Waving sparklers in the humid night air. Sore feet after walking for hours. Mesmerized by the feeling of life whirling around you. Winning a squish mallow from a claw machine and watching Satoru and Suguru rock-paper-scissor fight over who got to keep it. Listening to Satoru and Suguru’s murmured conversations, and feeling giddy when you got the gist of something they said. Feeling your heart throb and ears perk up when they mentioned your name. Laughing embarrassedly into a pillow when you tried to speak Japanese and got everything wrong — Satoru's enamored smile.

It felt like you were in a rush to enjoy everything sometimes, because your return flight date loomed in the back of your mind. Suguru was nervous to show you Japan in a light that you'd never forget, and Satoru was just oblivious to all the sight-seeing and festivals because you were far more captivating.

On the train ride deeper into the city, Satoru sat thigh-against-thigh with you. The both of you were very consciously aware of contact, the press and the warmth. At your left, Suguru leaned close, the fabric of his t-shirt grazing your arm giving you butterflies.

Heads together, all three of you took turns in Satoru's diary; writing your names, scribbling, doodling, until the page was filled from corner to corner.

They talked about Nanami, who was going to meet you for the first time.

Suguru giggled at something Satoru said, so you asked what he was laughing at.

"Satoru's scared that Nanami is going to show off his English to you." he said.

“Oh?” you smiled.

("... and!") Satoru added dramatically, interrupting Suguru, ("He better not flirt with her.”)

Suguru went completely red in the face and laughed.

("Satoru, You're acting very boyfriend-like.")

("... oh, am I?")

("Yes.")

Satoru stopped talking, went redder than Suguru, and sat back in his seat like he was contemplating himself.

"What?" you asked, looking between them.

"Nothing." Suguru feathered, covering his face to hide his smile, "Nothing at all."

*****

Even you were taken aback by Nanami's English, because he spoke more elegantly than you did — so you can just imagine what expression Suguru had when he watched the two of you interact for the first time at the festival.

"Satoru's my senior at work, even if he doesn't act like it." he said. Satoru looked at him suspiciously as he spoke.

"Ohhh, I see." you nodded, "Then, you two met at work or...?"

"No, we went to high school together.” Nanami said.

You nodded again, "Ah."

"... he talks a lot about you." Nanami said, "Talks my ear off at the water cooler about this girl who lives on the other side of the world — with the biggest stars in his eyes. It's nice that you two could finally meet."

You smiled, "Yeah... this summer has been amazing."

"Have you ticked everything off your bucket list yet?" Nanami asked.

"Yes — though, I missed Tanabata." you said. “Maybe next year.”

The two of you kept talking. When you laughed at something Nanami said, Satoru threw a jealous look at him. Then he and Suguru talked under their breaths.

(“Are they flirting?”) Satoru asked suspiciously.

(“They are not.”)

(“It feels like they are.”)

(“… you really are acting like a boyfriend, Satoru…”)

*****

A blue night sky deepened as you three walked across the street crossing, closer to where residents were gathered and some dancing around a raised stage.

"I wish I could experience December here, too." you sighed dreamily.

"Why don't you?" Nanami asked.

"... the flights are too expensive." you replied.

"... what a shame. A romantic like Satoru would be over the moon to spend December with you." Nanami said. "Maybe next year, you two can go as a couple."

You acted shyer after realizing Nanami assumed you and Satoru were dating, and it was incredibly funny because Satoru misinterpreted your shyness to be a response to Nanami's flirting — so he interrupted the conversation right there.

Suguru stifled a laugh. He didn't say anything, just watched you three like it was a sitcom.

("Nanami, you look a bit taller. Did you grow?") Satoru teased, physically comparing heights with him — which he only ever did when they were kids.

"..." Nanami stared at him. ("Why are you like this?")

Suguru was trying so hard to contain his laughter.

While Nanami and Satoru went back and forth with each other, Suguru grabbed the chance to have his own moment with you.

He talked a bit louder over the singing and drumming, right into your ear, as you watched, captivatedly, at people performing bon odori around the stage.

All you remember was feeling like Suguru’s voice was in your chest, truthfully you can't remember what he was explaining to you about the festival.

Then he went quiet and stared at you softly.

A weird, familiar feeling took residency inside his chest, and he thought;

(Oh... It's been a while since I last fell in love.)

But even if you had paid attention to him in that moment, would you have noticed the tenderness in his eyes?

Suguru got startled out of his love-struck daze by Nanami, who was leaving early.

("Satoru finally got on your nerves, huh?")

("Yes… no, not actually. I've just got sore feet.")

Satoru teased playfully, ("You just want to go home and take a bubble bath and listen to jazz like the old man you are.")

("Satoru, you're annoying. That's absolutely what I'm going to do, though.")

Nanami said goodbye for the night.

The sky blackened and the crowd thickened with more people, so Satoru took your hand in his and kept you close.

After an hour, the three of you headed out of the festival and went in search of a quieter place. Suguru observed you and Satoru holding hands. He stared and stared, then forced himself to snap out of it.

Satoru was quietly thinking, then said dramatically;

(“He was totally flirting with her!”)

And to this Suguru burst out laughing so hard, like all the laughter he held back earlier came out. A man with a laugh like that was definitely popular with boys and girls in high school, you’re certain.

(“How do you know?”)

(“… it sounded like it!”)

(“I can’t believe you’re such a jealous guy.”) Suguru shook his head, bearing a big smile, (“You even got jealous at me for flirting with her.”)

Satoru shrugged guiltlessly. 「僕は僕！」

“What is going on?” you asked laughingly.

Suguru could hardly translate or speak as he had a laughing fit on the street.

*****

When you walked out of an alleyway into a busier street and saw the neon glow of lights of a 7-Eleven, and a cyclist going by, and inhaled the night air, and heard all the city noises, and felt all the city feelings, this feeling whirled around you.

"Life feels different here." you commented, looking around you.

"... oh really?" Suguru hummed sarcastically.

You nudged his arm. "Don't be sarcastic. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Yeah, of course. That feeling... like a spark...?" he teased, just to see the look in your eyes.

He spoke to Satoru, and Satoru said something and Suguru chuckled and translated for you, " 'You'll miss that feeling when you leave for home.' "

"... I'll miss you two more."

Hearing sentence made his heart fluttery. When Suguru translated it, it just didn't feel the same as hearing it in your voice. It made him wonder just how much he was missing out on by not knowing your language. What feelings were being lost in translation?

*****

The three of you headed out further, getting a bit lost in the city for fun.

The hot night called for ice cream, so Satoru and Suguru rock-paper-scissor fought for who would go to buy some.

"... 最初ぐう... じゃん���ぽん... あいこでしょ... あいこでしょ... !"

Satoru pulled a funny face after losing that made you and Suguru laugh. He went on his way to the convenience store, navigating through a detour, stopping to pet a cat on his way back, and meanwhile... you and Suguru were left alone together, with that spark clearly fizzing between your chests.

*****

At the park, the two of you lazed in the grass, side by side, while waiting for Satoru to return from the convenience store with ice creams.

Eyes directed up at the sky, propped on his elbows, hair messy after a long evening. Suguru momentarily closed his eyes in bliss at the soft breeze fanning by.

Next to you, Suguru stretched out his long legs and stared deeply at the moon. It was blazing. The longer he stared at it in silence the more this feeling struck him.

He took a sideways glance at you, and you were obliviously enjoying the cool night breeze.

(Does she have a clue about how I feel right now?) Suguru thought softly.

"月が綺麗ですね..." he murmured romantically.

"Hm? What does that mean...?"

He turned his head to look at you, totally smitten.

"... the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Oh. Yeah, it is." you agreed. "I haven't seen a moon so bright in a while."

Suguru chuckled dreamily.

(She's a clueless angel.)

No thoughts passed through either of your heads as you leaned into each other.

His features were too fuzzy to make out in this lighting, but you saw a hint of a tender expression on his face.

He inhaled deeply and got so high on the sweet, humid night air that he leaned into a kiss without thinking his action through — but it's alright, he only grazed his still lips over yours. He only hovered. It was just a sweet, shared breath if anything. Just a ticklishly light touch of lips grazing lips.

No thoughts. Just that spark in the air and heartbeats thumping quickly in your fingertips.

Then immediate realization hit him. He pulled away and apologized like he was shocked at himself.

"I'm so sorry." Suguru stressed, "I didn't mean to — I —I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay, don't apologize." you replied softly, unable to say more.

(What does she mean, "Don't apologize"? What does she mean…?)

Suguru began to ramble, and you watched his lips move as he spoke each syllable. His lips felt tingly, wanting— desperately — for a kiss.

He wanted to kiss you, but he couldn't.

"It's just — I haven't — you know, it's been years since... um, anyways. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore." He became out of breath, talking too fast.

Suguru drew in a breath like he was going to say something more, but then stopped speaking altogether because Satoru returned — with a plastic bag of convenience store ice creams swishing at his side.

“Hey hey.” he greeted the two of you, and sat down on the grass.

Satoru didn't sit between you and Suguru, rather, he sat in front of both of you, stretching his legs out onto the soft grass like a cat.

「顔赤いよ・・・」 Satoru wiggled his brows at Suguru.

You watched Suguru as he patted his hands against his hot cheeks to cool them.

Satoru giggled naughtily.

You looked between them and watched them have a small exchange, never learning what they said to each other in that moment. But you could gather Suguru's embarrassment and Satoru's teasing and mild jealousy.

Suguru grumbled to himself on the way home.

(We could have shared a movie kiss...)

*****

You fell asleep before Satoru — almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. He looked down at you for a moment, his gaze catching onto your parted lips, his ears picking up on your soft breathing.

(I hope you're dreaming of me.) he thought hopefully.

He stared for a bit, daydreaming.

The longer he stared, the more his face reddened and his heartbeat quickened. Eventually he crawled into bed next to you, keeping a distance but wishing so badly that he could cuddle you.

He was thinking about how unfair it was to be himself; to have to contain himself when he was such a romantic and emotional man, and not just that; a man in need of touching, kissing, cuddling. He felt a need for all of that more that night than at any other point in his life.

Satoru timidly inched closer and lifted his face to plant a kiss on your cheek. Just a tiny kiss. His lips hovered over you cheek, then over your lips. But he held back.

He pulled away slowly and smiled shyly to himself.

That satisfied his heart enough, he could calm down and sleep.

But in the other room, Suguru moved around sleeplessly in his bed like a hopeless insomniac.

*****

Curled into his pillow, cheeks warm, fist to lip and knees hugged, Suguru was daydreaming of how that moment could have gone differently if he had just kissed you.

And his daydream played out like a film, one full of scripted kisses, shot from every angle, replayed over and over to satisfy his little heart — the poor thing was beating in panic at his growing feelings.

Yes, he knew he liked you, but not like that. Not until now. Now that feeling was nearly in full throttle.

*****

Suguru's daydream of kissing you went on until it got light outside.

He thought, thought, thought. But a daydream wasn't enough to satisfy his need to kiss you. With a suppressed sigh, he rolled onto his side, hugged his ribs, and blinked his stinging eyes at the room as it lit up a dawn blue.

The room became lighter and lighter.

He leaned up in bed, blinked, then reached for his phone and opened yours and his chat. And he scrolled up into the texts that gave him butterflies. He stared at the blinking cursor, then typed out;

I wanted to kiss you.

Then he stared at your profile picture, and promptly erased what he had typed.

Instead, he wrote it in his notes app, as if it was his most guilty secret.

Then he cuddled back into his fortress of pillows, begged his mind for a dream of you, and fell asleep at 7 AM, sleeping a weak 3 hours before waking up again.

*****

You and Suguru were awake earlier than Satoru, who was still softly sleeping. The roar of early morning traffic reached the 7th floor, and the sunrise teased its appearance through the buildings.

Suguru watered the balcony plants in his flip flops.

And he did it lazily, in his baggy pants, with unbrushed hair. It was quite a sight to see, so you stared. He could feel your eyes on him and his heartbeat quickened.

He watered each plant with a cup of water, complaining that he keeps forgetting to buy a watering can for his ‘lil guys’.

Names were assigned to each plant, written on paper on toothpicks.

“… you named a plant… Dave?” you questioned.

“… what? It’s funny.”

He watered ‘Dave’ and looked closer, nearly nosing into the plant.

"Oh my god... he’s wilting." he genuinely panicked. "I swear I'm doing everything I can to keep him alive, it's like he just wants to die… keep it together, Dave."

You laughed and hovered over the plants with him. Suguru was frowning at his other plants as they looked unhappier than usual.

"Suguru, you're such a plant dad." you said.

His frown lifted, he looked at you and then his sweet smile lines showed up on his cheeks.

"Thanks."

When he made eye contact, and that something sparked in the air between you two. It sparked bigger than it ever had before.

"You look tired..."

I can't believe she notices that. How sweet.

He shrugged in response.

"I was thinking about you..." he trailed off.

You widened your eyes and went silent.

"— your flight." he lied and you knew it.

"... yeah, it's gonna be a long flight home." you swallowed hard, looking so deeply into his eyes that you got dizzy.

"You know what's weird? Right now, in this moment, it feels like you'll never leave." he said softly.

The following silence heightened the tension between you and him. He felt the urge to kiss you again. He felt it bad. His self-restraint was slipping, he couldn't discipline himself.

(A kiss is just a kiss, right?)

When you licked your lips, that’s when Suguru started to lean his face in. As his gaze flitted between your lips and your eyes, his heart panged.

He hesitated, you hesitated, he stuttered, you stuttered. He kissed you like a nervous mouse.

You were shocked even though you knew it was coming.

Even if the kiss lasted just a split second, that was long enough to catch a glimpse of heaven.

Suguru pulled back and looked at you unsurely.

"えーと" his lips twitched. "I — I'm — I — uh." he forgot how to speak completely, so stunned that his mother tongue and English tongue got tangled together.

You stared into his eyes and that's what got him, he went in for another kiss, this time harder – lips smacking together like you just needed each other. And as he exhaled against your face, you could feel all his passion.

His heart fluttered when you kissed him back with almost the same intensity. The heat and softness of someone else's lips was exactly what he needed at this time in his life, just to kiss someone who he really liked.

Gasping into the kiss, Suguru held onto your cheeks like you were his baby. When he ran out of breath, he pulled away and breathed a little heavier.

"I'm so sorry, I — " he said breathlessly.

" — no, it's o—o-okay." you stammered, feeling a bit out of it.

Both of you were digesting the moment when suddenly a bleary-eyed, sleepy Satoru came out onto the balcony, holding Mint against his chest. He was squinting and blinking at the morning sun.

Suguru immediately switched to nonchalance and acting as if nothing just happened. But his shoulders were stiff.

("Mint looks especially evil this morning.") his voice quivered a little.

("... you mean fluffy?") Satoru replied, petting Mint between her fuzzy ears.

("No, evil.") Suguru joked, ("She's a devil in dis—guise.") he choked on his words.

Satoru looked at him strangely and thought;

(Huh, Suguru doesn't usually choke on his words.)

Satoru stared at Suguru, looked at you, then looked back and forth between you and Suguru.

The air was thick.

"What?"

"What...?"

("What happened?") Satoru asked.

Satoru's sixth sense was insane. Like it was some scene in a comedy movie, he forwardly asked;

("Why do I feel like I interrupted something?") he said.

Suguru raised his brows and made a funny guilty face. You looked between them with wide eyes.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee..." you said, and scrambled to your feet like you were desperate to escape this awkward tension.

"... I'm gonna tell him." Suguru said.

"You're bluffing..."

"Nah, I'm an honest guy."

You groaned funnily, "Then I'm gonna go hide behind the coffee pot..."

Satoru looked confused. Once you headed inside, it was just him and Suguru there on the balcony.

The traffic was roaring louder by now. For a while it was the only sound between them, besides your distant clanking in the kitchen.

A long silence dragged out and then Suguru's words abruptly popped into existence.

"(YN)にキスした・・・"

"は?!"

Suguru made a guilty grimace and scratched the back of his head.

("What do you mean you kissed her? When was this?") Satoru's voice got higher.

("Uh, like right now.")

They went back and forth for a while. You heard them and had no idea what was being said.

("Thief.") Satoru said, calming down after a while.

("How am I a thief?") Suguru got defensive.

("You stole her kiss from me!") Satoru pouted childishly.

("... I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.") Suguru lowered his head, ("Are you mad at me...?") he asked worriedly.

("... No, I'm not mad at you... well, a little bit.") Satoru mumbled, ("I'm more jealous than mad.")

(“So…”) Suguru looked at his best friend wearily. How could he not be furious? (“This is fine with you?”)

(“You can get away with it. If it were Nanami, I’d be throwing hands.”) he joked.

Suguru still felt like he was a puppy that did something wrong, but Satoru just didn’t seem to be taking it as seriously.

("... I've got a plan, okay.") Satoru said suddenly, ignoring Mint's silent begging for cuddles. ("I'm gonna kiss her at the airport, right before she leaves — ")

Suguru laughed, ("Are you procrastinating — ?")

Satoru cut him off and said 「やる よ！！！」 with such intensity and conviction that it made Suguru burst out laughing.

Hearing Suguru's laughter from the kitchen reassured you that everything went over fine.

*****

He stood in front of you.

(できる よ・・・) I can do it...

Satoru swallowed hard. Discretely wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Nibbled his lip. Tried to act natural in the airport, looking to Suguru for inspiration on being nonchalant.

You were testing the clock by waiting until the very last minute to get onboard.

Just like you were procrastinating to board your flight, Satoru was procrastinating to kiss you. The three of you exchanged a look.

"Oh.” Suguru realized, “Go ahead. I’m not looking. I'm a plant." Suguru joked, covering his eyes.

He gave you and Satoru space, he thought it was fair. If he had his moment with you on the balcony, then Satoru deserved to have a moment with you. Now he understood how all-consuming the desire to kiss someone was.

(It has to be now, when else? I don't know when she'll be back for her next visit, I could be waiting a whole year. The universe knows how impatient I am. I've got to have her lips right now.) Satoru thought anxiously.

His body stuttered.

You were thinking to yourself, is this the wrong moment to kiss him? Is there ever a right moment anyways?

"Satoru." you said in a tone of goodbye, and outstretched your arms to him.

He leaned down into your embrace like the awkwardly tall man he was.

You clung to each other's bodies for a while. Such a clingy hug already spoke volumes. But still, Satoru just wanted to go that bit further — to spell his love on your lips.

He wanted you to board that plane knowing what his love tasted like, to sit in your seat with lips freshly tingling.

Yes, he knew nothing in life ever played out like in movies or daydreams, so he was hoping just once it would.

Last-minute doubt filled him and he felt his mood drop.

(… maybe I shouldn’t.)

Just as he pulled out of the hug, you reached up, cupped his cheeks with conviction, and gave him the biggest kiss that he'd ever received in his life right smack there on his lips.

"...?" His knees buckled, and redness grew on his cheeks very quickly.

He blanked so hard, but only for a second or two, because he dreamily tilted his head off to the side and deepened the kiss.

(yeah, 恋している。)

You pulled back. He stammered, stuttered, totally stumbled. He was all over the place now. He couldn't form a thought now.

Even if someone would have told him that he was on planet earth, he wouldn't have believed them, because your kiss definitely sent him to heaven.

"は、はずかしいな・・・embarrassed, I'm embarrassed." He chuckled nervously.

Suguru watched as you two broke down into giggles, then he came over to you two again.

"You know, that was very cute and all," he said, spooking the life out of Satoru who was just totally in his feelings. "But even the last-minute procrastinators have boarded the flight by now."

"Oh my god!" you panicked, "Um, yeah! Okay, okay I'm gonna go... I love you two. I'll come back soon, I promise. I promise."

Hugging goodbye for the last time hurt, and seeing you get teary-eyed made it hard for them not to cry too.

You went through the gates.

Satoru felt like you tore a piece of him and took it with you, and his whole body wanted to chase after you.

You waved and gave heart hands to them as much as you could until you disappeared out of sight.

Boarding the plane felt like a dream. After stowing away your bag in the overhead cabinet, you took your seat and stared blankly, lips feeling tingly and alive with Satoru’s lingering feelings on them.

*****

It was all over too quickly. Satoru licked his lips.

Idling to the window to watch your plane take off, both of them felt like they were on the verge of crying, Satoru a little more than Suguru.

(まだ いかないで。) Satoru frowned.

*****

At home, Satoru walked into his room and when he inhaled your lingering scent, god, he burst into tears so loudly that Mint got startled. Suguru came to comfortingly rub his back as he wept like a dog.

"悟、 泣かないで。"

He didn't cry as hard ever again as he did that day, and he never even told you.

*****

It's hard to imagine that summer could have ever ended, but it faded away like a sweet taste fading on his tongue.

Satoru woke up the morning without you, and it took him a few seconds to realize that — he felt his fingers over the pillow and slowly opened his eyes.

(ああ、もう会いたい。)

Puffy eyes, dry lips, he reached for his phone.

You hadn't replied yet — still on your flight home, high up in the air. Probably staring out the window. Hopefully thinking of him.

He checked your live flight status, and laid on the pillow as he watched it, forearm concealing his frown, and he just stayed like that for half an hour. Watching that tiny plane move on the screen, over so many countries.

He zoomed out, and felt stricken, as if he just realized how far you actually were from him. And you weren't even home yet, home was still hours away.

"Wake up, princess." Suguru knocked on Satoru's door, then barged in after Satoru let out an I’m awake noise. "I could sense your damp mood through the door." He said.

Satoru groaned, "She's still in the sky..."

Suguru dove into Satoru's unmade bed. "Don't frown so much, you'll get ugly frown wrinkles when you're old."

"Mhm."

They were watching your live flight for a few minutes in silence.

"Let’s look through photos."

So, they both laid there, looking through photos, mumbling amongst themselves about little things and missing you like they've never missed someone before.

Then Satoru let out a long breath, rolled onto his back, and hummed happily to himself.

"I kissed her. I actually kissed her.” He said, thinking of you.

"... oh really? That's crazy. Me too." Suguru teased sarcastically.

"Shut up, you."

Suguru just teased further, "The only way you'll get me to shut up is if you book her a flight back to Tokyo and let her use her lips to silence me."

"She'll kiss me before she kisses you next time she visits." Satoru said confidently.

"... bet?"

"Okay, bet!" Satoru flared up, "I bet all my savings, because I know she loves me more."

"Then say goodbye to your savings."

They go back and forth, getting competitive.

"... I'll kiss her harder." Suguru said.

"No, I'll kiss her harder." Satoru said.

"I'll kiss her dumb." Suguru said.

"I'll kiss her dumber!" Satoru said.

Mint fluffed her tail and stared at her noisy, bickering owners. Then she leaped off and went on her way to the washing machine.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@miwanilla / @sukunasdirtylaugh / @coco-cat / @babydiamondblog / @mp3playerblog / @froufrousnowman / @lovesickramblingsofmine / @arminswifee / @instantmusico / @kaechannn / @sabo-has-my-heart / @yoonjinhusbands / @honey-i-will-come-back / @thirtykiwis / @satoruiloveu / @iamthedetective / @melaaaara / @xakilicious / @i-am-the-geek-overlord / @starrylibras / @beanluvsmilo / @kittytoru / @reese-is-right / @rains-mae / @c0pkiller / @baepsays / @hueanhdang / @fuck-imstillhere / @yourimaginaryfriiendd / @alwaysminhyuk / @andromidagalaxie / @vianna99 / @akumakitsune21 / @ducksdoughnuts / @itsnotmelo / @animechick555 / @hypernovaxx / @xkittiecatx / @ba-ks / @sleepy-waffle / @aphoenixnamed-angel / @polarbvnny / @satoryaa / @dedicatemyhearttoyou / @aiikuraa / @uno3 / @softnorth / @polarbvnny / @aphoenixnamed-angel / @boundedbyfate / @p1nkfluffysocks / @notahappyyoongi / @sullybrothersmate / @nissatamz / @bakugosbottombitch / @zhonglis-missing-wallet / @martothejay / @ringsofsaturnnnn / @givemeonereason / @rosariymchapter / @augustsosexy / @spicy-takimura / @li-m-ii / @strychnynegirl / @curvaliberate / @oyuki22 / @spicy-takimura / @li-m-ii / @euaphoria1 / @hexoolio / @notrlynicole / @maya-maya-56 / @elitesanjisimp

♡ 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[in-another-april]

reader and early seasons spencer are newly dating, spencer wears his glasses around them for the first time and theyre just like 😳😵literally going feral while spence is so confused

summary/prompt + genre - You see Spencer wearing his glasses for the first time, and you’re So Normal about it. | fluff

warnings - none

wc - 503

notes - i'm so ridiciously obssessed with glasses spencer, its unreal. anywayss shy!reader with shy!spencer because i love them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Spencer have been going to the library together since you first met. It's always been one of his favorite ways to spend time with you, and now, ever since you got together last month, one of his favorite dates to take you on.

You settle into your usual spot, waiting for him to finish picking out his book. You only look up when he sits down, and your eyes go wide as soon as you do.

Glasses? Glasses. He's wearing glasses. He's sitting right next to you, wearing the most insanely attractive pair of glasses, ones that frame his perfect face perfectly, and suddenly it's hard to breathe.

What's worse is that he doesn't even mention them, quickly kissing your cheek in greeting before pulling out his book. And then he's gone, flipping page after page, completely entranced. You'd miss his attention if you weren't too busy being relieved that he's now too distracted to notice how flustered he's making you.

Plus, it gives you the chance to stare at admire him.

You watch him, wide-eyed, practically gawking at his every move. His hand flexes as he reaches up to adjust his glasses, his other one gently trailing along the paper, his tongue poking out ever so slightly while he's focusing and oh, god, is it hot in here? It feels like it's hot in here.

Unfortunately for you, though, Spencer's way too, well, Spencer to let anything go unnoticed. He feels your eyes on him, looking from his book to you.

"You okay?" He asks gently, tilting his head slightly and oh my god, he looks so good, you're done for.

You scramble to act natural, but it's hard when your book sits abandoned on your lap and practically your whole body was turned to look at him.

"Yeah! Yeah, no, no I'm fine." You try to smile reassuringly, eyes darting back to your book. "I just... I didn't know you wore glasses." You swallow, heat rushing to your face. He's quick to explain, something about running out of contacts? You were too... distracted to really listen, but that sounded like the gist of it. You nod.

"Do you-" Spencer clears his throat, and you're too focused on stewing in your own embarrassment to notice his. "Do you not like them?" The worry in his voice catches your attention, finally looking at him.

"No!" You blurt it out before you can stop yourself. "No, I... I really like them. Like, really, really like them."

"Oh." His voice is soft, a bashful little smile on his face. "I'm glad you like them." He laughs, almost bordering on a giggle, and you don't think you've ever adored someone more.

"Yeah." You smile back, you can't help it. Satisfied, you both go back to your respective books in a comfortable silence.

Until he breaks it. "Guess I'll have to wear them more often, then." He mumbles, mostly to himself, and your head snaps up to look at him again.

"What was that?"

"...Nothing."

masterlist | inbox ← requests open! ♡

taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna @khxna @flow33didontsmoke (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)

[toyboy-molloy]

"Uncle Henry?" Heinrich bounded excitedly into the forge, brandishing a piece of paper, "what does this say?"

Henry removed the sword he was forging from the heat and rested it on the anvil, wiping his hands on a scrap of cloth. He took the text from his godson and read to himself. Thankfully.

My darling. My beloved. My desire. I long for you, I ache for you. It's been too long since we last crossed swords together. I yearn to hold you, touch you, fill you- Henry got the gist, trying not to laugh as he returned the page to Heinrich.

"It's just some, erm, romantic verse," he explained delicately to the curious youngster, adding, "where did you get this?"

"It was on Papa's writing desk," Heinrich replied with a roll of his eyes, shoving the letter into his pocket. He grimaced, "I suppose it's a gift for Mama."

"Aye," Henry nodded, picking up the sword to reheat so he had an excuse to look away and hide his smirk, "I'm sure."

-

"Papa?" Hans looked up from his book to find Heinrich staring at him, holding out a torn scrap of paper, "this is from Uncle Henry."

"Oh?" Hans took the tatty item from his son, smirking, "what wise words from the great wordsmith of Skalitz?"

He spent teh next several moments silently blinking at whatever was written on the page. Heinrich looked from his father to the parchment, raising on his tiptoes to better see. As if it would help him understand in some way.

"What does he say?"

Hans quickly crumpled the paper, shaking his head, "nothing important. Boring business discussions."

Heinrich didn't look as though he believed him but he knew better than to question it. The young heir shrugged and skipped out of the room, whistling one of Henry's work tunes to himself. Once he was sure he was alone, he carefully opened the paper.

Henry had scribbled various nonsense sentences riddled with spelling mistakes before crudely crossing each one out and settling on a single word:

cock?

He'd even drawn a rough sketch of a chicken, in case the meaning became lost on him. Hans decided to find the the backwards K charming.

more heinrich fics

[ravenromanova]

Please be mine

Pairings: Roommate Bucky x Female reader (Best friends to lovers)

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18. Daddy kink, Size kink, Fingering, Sex in a tub, Breeding kink. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!!!!!!!!!!

Summary: Bucky helps when youre stressed out

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!!

~

The cool autumn air hit your skin as you walked back to your apartment after finishing your last class of the day. You trudged along the way wishing that you brought a jacket today. Luckily the walk to your apartment wasnt that long so you weren’t in the cold all that long. When you made it back to your apartment your roommate and best friend Bucky was already home so you didn’t have to bother unlocking the front door.

“Hey sweets” Bucky greeted you when you walked through the door. His warm voice sent a shiver down your spine as he spoke.

“Hey Buck” Your voice was small and sounded very defeated when you spoke. Bucky stood up from his place on the couch and walked over to where you were in the kitchen. He stood in front of you and ran his hands up and down your arms in a soothing motion.

“What’s wrong sweets?” He asked causing you to bury your head in his chest and groaning. Bucky laughed a little and wrapped his strong arms around your back and started rubbing it.

“Mrs.Harkness gave us a ten page essay assignment thats due next week. So not only do i have to come up with a topic for that but i also have the paper to finish for Mr.Starks class, AND i have a test for Ms.Potts the same day the essay is due” Your words were muffled as you spoke but Bucky got the gist of it. He put his finger underneath your chin and tilted your head so you looked up at him.

“First you need to breathe before you go into a panic attack. Second i know you have a lot of work to do but you need to relax.” You were about to say something but then he put his finger against your lips. “No arguing printsessa“ He said in a little bit of a firmer tone and you didn’t have the energy to fight so you just nodded.

“Good girl now go sit on the couch and I’ll run you a bath” Bucky says walking you to the couch and then he kisses your head before he walks off to the bathroom. You sit on the couch trying not to blush and swoon from how sweet he’s being.

You and Bucky had met your junior year of high school and since then the two of you were inseparable. So naturally when you two both got accepted into NYU you asked him if he wanted to get an apartment with you. He accepted the offer telling you he’d love nothing more. And your friendship only grew stronger after that and you even started to fall for him. Your feelings grew for him each day and when he took care of you it just made then stronger.

What you didn’t know was that the reason he did all those things for you was because he was madly in love with you. Bucky loved to take care of you when you were stressed or sick. It made his heart feel all fuzzy when you would let him take care of you, the smile you would give him whenever he did melted his heart. Unfortunately you two were completely oblivious to how the other felt even though all your friends told you.

“Come on printsessa” You heard him call for you from the bathroom. You made your way to the bathroom and smiled at the setup. He lit your favorite candles, added your bath salts and bubbles, got your favorite book, snacks, hot chocolate and then laid your clothes on the counter for you when you were done.

“Thank you Jamie” The words were soft as they passed your lips making him smile. He walked up to you and wrapped you in his arms.

“You’re welcome sweets” His lips found their way to your forehead and your knees almost gave out. He kissed your head again before he started to walk out of the bathroom to give you your privacy.

You dont know what came over you but you grab his hand to stop him from leaving. He looked at you confused as you grabbed his hand and pulled him a little closer to you.

“Stay” You whispered looking up at his blue eyes. His confusion grew more as you spoke.

“What?” He asked and you wrapped your arms around his neck causing his breath to catch in his throat.

“i said stay” You repeated yourself and Bucky’s heart started racing.

“Y-You want me to stay in here while you take a bath?” He questioned making you laugh a little.

“I want you to take it with me” His eyes widened at your words and you swore he almost choked.

“I-I what?” Bucky’s voice was shaky as he spoke. It’s not that he hadn’t thought of it but he never expected you to take such a bold approach.

“You said i needed to relax…and i want to relax with you.” Your voice dropped an octave causing a shiver to run down his spine. Bucky nodded and slowly took off his shirt. You walked over to the sink with your back towards him before you slowly started taking off your clothes. He watched you undress and he swore he almost died right there. Never in a million years did he think he’d ever see you like this, naked and vulnerable. Once he undressed he walked up behind you and wrapped his hands around your bare waist.

His hands needed the soft skin making you groan in delight. He took your hands and lead you to the tub letting you get in first then he sat behind you. You laid back on his chest as his hands were around your waist again. It was in this moment the both of you knew you were no longer friends. His hands were under the water gripping and rubbing your skin with need. You rested your head on his chest and took one of his hands and moved it lower.

Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat when his fingers came into contact with your pussy. “Are you sure? Because if we do this there’s no going back. You’re mine” He said lowly against your ear causing you to shiver.

“I’m sure…I wanna be yours” You whispered looking up at him and he crashed his lips into yours taking his hands out of the water to cup your face. The kiss was everything you wished it would be with him, his lips were soft and he tasted like cherries.

Bucky turned you around and sat you over his lap so he could see your pretty face when he fucked you. His hands dipped back into the water and started to rub your pussy.

“So fucking tight” He praised sticking one of his thick fingers in you making you moan.

“Oh fuck” Your head starts to go fuzzy when Bucky curls his finger and hits your g-spot. He puts another one in making you grip onto his shoulders for dear life.

“So fucking perfect” His voice is gruff as he whispers in your ear before he starts kissing your neck. He takes his time leaving marks on your neck while fingering you with ease.

“I-I’m gonna cum-oh fuck-“ You feel your first orgasm rip through you when he hits that spot just right. Bucky smiles into your neck and continues to fuck your through your high.

“You did so good baby” Bucky praised you again giving you a sweet and gentle kiss. He then lifts you out of the tub not caring about the water all over the floor and brings you to his room. You giggle when he tosses you onto his bed and crawls to you so he’s on top.

“Are you sure you want this? We can still stop and pretend this never happened if thats what you want.” He asks rubbing his thumb over your cheek. Bucky didn’t want to stop but he also didn’t want you to do anything you’d regret and end up hating him.

“I’m sure you have no idea how bad i want this Bucky please fuck me” You beg clawing at his chest bringing him closer to you.

“Okay okay pretty girl” He chuckles moving down to your thighs. He kisses your soft skin with so much gentleness your heart melts. You buck your hips against him basically begging for him to be in you.

His strong hands grip your skin before he takes his cock in his hands giving it a few tugs. Once he’s hard he takes the tip and runs it through your dripping folds. Bucky slowly eases into you giving you a second to adjust to his size.

“S-So b-big daddy” You mewl feeling his cock hit your g-spot. He starts thrusting into you at a slow pace to ease you into it. You weren’t a virgin by any means but fuck Bucky was the biggest you’ve ever had. Your senses were filled to the brim with Bucky as he delightfully stretched you out.

“So fucking tight and warm” He praised picking up his pace. You gripped at his shoulders bringing him closer to you and bringing him in for a kiss. The two of you were fully intoxicated by each other in this salacious moment.

“Right there daddy oh fuck” You mewled throwing your head back and Bucky took advantage of your exposed neck. He sucked dark marks on your neck and smiled at his work.

“Take it baby take it like the good girl you are and let daddy fill you up” He grunted gripping your thighs with more force than before. You almost screamed at his words as they filled you will some need you didn’t know you had.

“P-Please fill me up daddy please breed me.” You begged making Bucky groan in satisfaction. He picked up his pace chasing his high.

“Such a good girl” He praised giving you another sweet kiss as you felt your orgasm building up. It didn’t take long for you both to finish with loud moans and heavy panting. Bucky filled you up with his load and fucked it into you making sure that none of it would drip out. Once he was satisfied that none would he slowly pulled out and laid next to you as you panted.

“I love you” He blurted out making you whip your heads towards him. He didn’t even realize what he said until you smiled at him and cuddled into him.

“I love you too” You said softly and he wrapped his arms around your waist and sigh happily. The two of you shared another sweet kiss before you two fell asleep in each other arms happy as ever.

~The end~

[sun-snatcher]

could you write "i know i'm a monster, but you treat me like a man." from your prompts with shay cormac/f! reader? I discovered your profile recently and been loving your writing🫶🏻

( all credits to @bankaizen for this delicious gifset! )

✠ | of monsters & men ; shay cormac

summ. Your secret is revealed. The Captain of the Morrigan doesn't seem to mind. w.count. 2k. a/n.  f!reader , but reader is pretending to be a man , james kidd who? , slow-burn , mutual pining , friends-to-lovers , just reader & Shay being love-struck idiots . (I also understand that traditional sloop-of-war’s much like the Morrigan wouldn’t’ve had a crow’s nest due to her size, but for the sake of the fic, allow me to wave a magic wand over canon!)

       ST. ANTHONY’S RECEIVES the Morrigan with loving arms. 

With the ship lain to, and half the crew offboard, the Northern squalls billowing downwind into the dank, creaky port does little to stifle the riots of songs livening taverns and inns. All this, yet—

“Birdie!” calls a voice, floating high somewhere by where the topsails have been furled secure. “Haven’t frozen y’toes off there, have you, lad? Be a shame if I lost the finest Navigator the seas have yet to offer.”

Sitting slouched in the crow’s nest, you let out a snort. “Aye, lost ‘em all to scurvy just yesterday, I fear,” you lament, voice timbre. "Go away!"

Shay’s delighted laugh fills the air—

And you quickly tamp down that flutter you feel in your chest before it could get too treacherous.

“Also,” you note, once he hauls himself from the mainmast and lands with a perfect perch at the nest’s guardrails, “I’m the finest Navigator the seas will ever offer you, Captain, thank you very much.”

“Aye, that y’are. Dare I say the finest Mariner there is—”

“Oh-ho?”

“—right after me, ofcourse—”

“Little Irish bastard,” you scowl, failing miserably at hiding your grin, and swatting childishly at him when he scoots to settle into a comfortable seat next to you. “So. St. Anthony’s women not t’your fancy? What’re you doing all the way up here, Captain?”

“Funny that. Was going to ask y’the same thing after I saw y'run off. An’ Christ, call me Shay. I’m beginning to forget my name after all these months sailin’.” 

“Well, I was drawing, Captain,” you deflect, easily. Better than confessing you don’t want to be stuck in a stuffy room brushing shoulders with rowdy drunkards, and feeling your own heart bleed out watching pretty ladies bat their lashes and sidle up freely next to Shay.

Your answer is hardly a lie, anyway. The only reason the crew had taken to calling you Birdie in the first place is because you bide your time up in the nest scratching away in your papers (or dozing off one too many times, as Gist so likes to point out). That, and the fact it proves easier with your slightly build to pull your weight in the lines or riggings up above.

“Rum?” he offers, and sets it by you. It feels alot like a peace offering, even if it's unintentional.

Shay’s gaze falls on your tattered, leatherbound journal. A curious trinket; he’s never seen you an arm’s length from it, nor the pencil you keep tucked on your ear. He’s seen you sketching away into its water-logged pages more oft than not, cheeks stained with graphite and a furrow between your brows. “S’that your woman, birdie?” he says, glimpsing the unfinished markings of a face. “Now I see why you're not tasting the local cuisine. She’s a beauty.”

You can't help but break into a knowing, private smile. “Aye… Something like that.”

"How mysterious."

"She's my sister," you lie, if only to chase him off your scent.

"Oh? Well, does she have a man?"

"Fuck off," you bite, though without heat. The chance compliment settles nicely in your cheeks. "She’ll only be a trouble t’you. She's not your type, anyway, Shay.“

"Isn't she?" he hums cannily, but doesn’t broach the topic further. He’d never dared to ask to look in the book— isn’t exactly his business, after all— but you shrug and trade it for his drink. “Y’sure, birdie? I don't pry.”

“Go on, then, 'fore I change my mind.” There isn’t anything damning written about you in there; You know better than to risk that.

“So?” you take a swig, just as Shay begins parsing hrough the pages. "What is it? Surely you didn't climb up here t'keep warm. Come t'bother me?"

“Is it a crime for a Captain to want to spend time alone with his good friend?” he muses, distracted by the drawings— nay, Masterpieces, these are masterpieces, birdie. Y’ve a future in this, y’know?— of intricate horizons, coasts, constellations and isles on the weathered pages. 

Shay recognises them all: Asian archipelagos and spits of the lesser Antilles or the Caribbean reefs you’ve both voyaged to, dated and signed; alongside notes of headings and longitudes penciled under stipplings of navigational celestials like the North Star, the Dipper. 

“If the Captain is you, Shay,” you answer, “Then any man with sense.”

“Oh, I mean the Morrigan, birdie,” he teases, only to earn a sharp smack at his knee. 

“Ha-ha. I reckon all your good friends are women, aye?”

“So it seems,” he agrees absent-mindedly, and you wonder if the sideways glance at you had been your imagination.

Shay turns to the still-lifes. Breaching humpback whales and dolphin pods arcing over whitecaps; a bird’s-eye-perspective of the crew on a sunny day aboard the Morrigan, and countless, bustling ports across the world you’ve visited. There are portraits of the crew too: of deckhands, gunners, or of Gist, and even a stern profile of Haytham Kenway looking portside in the distance. 

And in-between it all—

Him. Captain Shay Cormac. Immortalised in blink-and-you-miss-it moments: manning the steer while holding conversation, or perched at the bow afore the setting sun, or peering through his spyglass from the sail riggings. “I ought to commission’ you. These are bloody incredible.” He traces a finger over one of the more detailed portraits of him, looking serene despite the menacing scar splitting his face. “Y’ve done me a justice, lass.”

You choke on the rum.

“—Aye,” you cough, willfully ignoring his mistake. Or had you misheard? “Perhaps, ah, one day.”

(Regardless. He couldn’t possibly know, surely. You’ve been careful for this long.) 

You clear your throat. Shake your head. “You haven’t properly answered my question, Captain.” 

“Right,” he relents, and closed the journal before handing it back to you. “I was just curious—”

You steel yourself for the worst.

“—why’ve y’stuck around for so long?”

Oh. “You mean, aboard the Morrigan? With you?”

“Aye,” he nods, levelling your curious, critical look. “I’m sure y’ve heard rumors an’ chatter about me, birdie. Isn’t hard t’miss. Master Kenway, Gist, an’ I’s line’a work, that is. I’m here to confess it isn’t all hearsay, that what I do isn’t a pretty thing.”

“Didn’t fancy you the type t'care about what other people think, Shay.” No one needs to earwig that to know it’s true. It’s quite known that Captain Cormac is an unflappable creature who’s earned his place in the world both on and off-land, to toe the thin line between confidence and arrogance wherever he goes. Though you suppose he’s just a man, at the end of the day, if he’s this consumed over a little mud-slinging to his reputation. 

“I don’t,” he agrees, truthfully. “But I do care what you think.”

Something soft curls in your heart. Damn you, Shay Cormac, you curse. You handsome, quick-witted—

“I know it isn’t pretty. And fortunately for you, I’m no priest, and we’re not in a confessional, so,” you sniff. “Doesn’t change a damn thing.”

He huffs out a polite laugh. “Well said.”

“Listen,” you sigh, more serious now. “Other men may have come and gone with the tide, but I’ve voyaged with you the longest because I wanted t'stay, Captain.”

“Exactly. You’ve seen what I can do. I know I’m a monster, birdie, but y’treat me like a man, an’ noble men don’t— do what I do.”

Ah. So there’s the root to all of this banter, then. A crisis in faith, somewhere. “Shay,” you narrow. “I’ve never met someone who’s a stout heart as you; Kept every word like bond, and never traded honour for prestige. Now, most monsters are men, and it’s all the same to the likes of me—”

(To the likes of me, Shay catches the slip.)

“—but I think you need to ask yourself: do you kill without cause?”

“No,” he says, affronted. “I fight for the people.”

“Then you’re twice the noblest man any could ever dream to be.”

A beat. 

Shay drops his head back to the mast with a glittering look in his eyes you can only describe as fond. (Perhaps, if you dared to indulge, affectionate—) “You’re a bloody gem, birdie, y’know that?”

The cuff of his sleeves brush against your pinky, and you can feel the toe of his boot against your own. You try not to focus on either of it, try not to focus on the proximity. “Aye, most women call me a diamond in the rough.”

He doesn’t laugh and take the bait this time, much to your surprise. “My Da once told me, birdie: It’s not enough to give people what they need to survive, you need to give them what they need to live.”

“Aye,” you nod, after a subdued moment. “I’ve stayed because you’ve given me that, Shay: purpose. Sailing the seas on the Morrigan is the freest I’ve ever been.”

“Y’ought to sail with your true self, birdie.”

You seize. Feel your blood run ice cold. “My… truest self is by your side.”

“Is it?”

“Isn’t it?” you bristle, and you are cutting now, Shay can see, because you’re frightened. “Captain, how much have you had to drink—?”

“I’d make a poor Irishman if half a bottle’a rum is all it takes to end me. Now take it easy, lass—”

You scowl, and move to sit up. “I’m not a—”

“It isn’t a fret to me at all, birdie,” he says, firmly, the back of his hand nudging your shoulders to lean back. “At ease. I’ve known you’re a woman for ages, now.”

This time you can’t school the look on your face.

“How long’ve you known?” you swallow, after you gathered your wits.

Shay cocks his head in thought. The confirmation now only pieces together what he’d always had a sneaking suspicion of, sensed even beyond his own second sight. Your gear, your mild stature, your peculiar mannerisms; nimble-handed at the riggings, fleet-footed in every brawl. But, if he’s to put a time on it—

“Singapore. When y’knocked that Portuguese sap’s teeth right out his head an’ put the heart crossways in him after he fretted the poor barmaid. Looked right personal t’you. I gathered then.”

A pause. Careful calculation. You’re trying to piece your reality back now that it's been shattered: the moonlit hush, the whistle of the winds, the lap of the tide against the Morrigan. Finally:

“Pretty sure he was Peranakan,” you correct, uselessly. Your hackles aren’t raised anymore. Shay would’ve acknowledged the look of defeat in your eyes had he not been so captivated by hearing your voice— real voice— for the first time.

(It’s gentle. Beautiful. If he’d been any more loose-lipped he might’ve pleaded you sing for him.)

“Captain, Singapore was… a long time ago.” It’s a loaded sentence, and had he not known you well enough he might’ve missed it: Why didn't you say anything?

“Aye. Like y’said earlier,” he waves, dismissively, “Doesn’t change a damn thing. Only, what’s your real name, lass?” 

You tell him. It’s been unspoken for so long, that for a moment it sounds near foreign to your own ears when he rolls the syllables back to you in his accented tongue. “Lovely name. I’m guessin’ the woman in your journal is you, aye?”

“To be a dame in a boatful of men is a death sentence, Shay,” you laugh, distant. It isn’t pleasant. “Ill omen to have a woman onboard, you know? Or so they say.”

He knows what you really mean.

“An’ yet here we are, after all these years, alive an’ well,” he challenges, raising his and your shared rum to the pale moon. “Besides, y’know I make my own luck, lass. So don’t think of leavin’ the Morrigan now, aye? Would be a right shame if I lost a sailor fierce as you.”

Another stumble in your heart. You bite your tongue. Shay’s trying to get a laugh out of you, you realise. To lift your spirit.

“Your secret’s safe with me, birdie. The Morrigan doesn’t discriminate, an’ you’ve earned your place on this ship a long time ago. Tell y’what, if anyone lays a hand on my finest Navigator, y’have my word to unman them yourself.”

That does it. Now you do laugh. Bell-like. Bright and sunny and warm—

And it knocks the wind right out of his lungs.

Aye, you'll be trouble indeed, birdie.

[tiredandoptimistic]

My reviews of the Careful of Books novellas

The spoiler-free gist is that I really enjoyed all four novellas and definitely recommend reading them if you can. I left the majority of my thoughts below the cut in case you want to avoid spoilers, though I avoided using many specific plot details.

A Sea Change: Oh Matthew Fairchild you are so special to me. I loved getting to see him again, especially dipping into his POV. He's just as delightful as ever, and it was great getting to see a version of Matthew who's past the worst of his addiction and depression but still hasn't figured out what will come next. I also really enjoyed how his grief over Christopher was handled. Kit is one of my all-time top TSC characters so I was definitely disappointed that ChoT didn't have more mourning for him, but I 100% get that it wouldn't have fit the flow of the narrative and also these characters were dealing with a lot of crazy plot stuff so it would have taken a bit for the loss to fully sink in and the grieving process to begin in earnest. Showing Matthew affected by it in the long run felt very appropriate. Plus, every mention of fire messages was like a little memorial to him. I also loved getting little glimpses of other TLH characters in Matthew's thoughts, since he may be alone on the ocean but he'll always carry his friends with him. Plus, Oscar was there! Get me a t-shirt that says I <3 Oscar Wilde, Hero Dog. I think the plot was a lot of fun too. I was glad to see Matthew put his deductive reasoning to use, and I really like that the immediately suspicious downworlders weren't actually to blame for everything. It's always nice when TSC commits to showing that downworlders are people just like Shadowhunters or mundanes. Sidenote, but I can't help but wonder if the offer to turn Matthew into a vampire was a reference to the old fan theories that he'd become a downworlder by the end of TLH. I liked Sylvain and his relationship with Matthew well enough, but he's not a new favorite or anything. It felt a little jarring how quickly they got together, since CC usually goes for more slowburn ships, but it still fit the flow of the story. Ultimately I just wish that we got more time with them, but considering that the whole story was under 80 pages I'd definitely call it a success. I think I'll always be a little disappointed that we didn't get the full Matthew bindup (like I'll always be disappointed that we didn't get The Secret Treasons), but I trust CC's judgement and if she didn't have a full bindup worth of stories to tell then I'm glad we at least got one excellent novella.

A Scandal at Undershaw: This one was a lot of fun! Probably my favorite of the non-Matthew novellas, just on account of the vibes. It managed to keep a certain level of gravitas attached to the characters without taking itself too seriously, and the absurdity of "modern high schooler Sherlock Holmes who still acts Like That" was played into without feeling mocking. I like that the story acknowledges how Sherlock's behaviors (getting so wrapped up in his mysteries that he doesn't consider other people's boundaries) can be harmful, but it never demonizes Sherlock or acts like he's an emotionless asshole. I also like this version of John and think that he has a lot of personality while still falling into the traditional Watson role of following Holmes's zanniness. Irene was fun, and I like that she and Sherlock completely match each other's energies. I was just kind of along for the ride with the mystery, and I think it was totally serviceable. All the pieces fit together and it helped move the plot forward, but it wasn't really what I was there for. I will say, it's a little funny to me that CC published her high school AU Johnlock fic and they don't even get together. That plays into something I felt overall with this story; that it's just part one of many (though I have no idea if CC has plans to continue it). Even though the mystery is revolved by the end, all the characters clearly have a lot more to do in their personal stories. Now that they're a bit settled (and unsettled) at Undershaw, I'd love to see what they get up to next and how their arcs continue to evolve! I'd totally read more novellas (or even full novels) about this version of the Sherlock Holmes universe.

Wendy Darling: While the last story felt like part one in an anthology, this one felt like episode one of a TV show (which, to be fair, is kinda what it is). The script format was interesting, and I didn't have any issues with it though I admittedly prefer CC's prose. I like the setup of "dark academia Peter Pan" as she calls it in the introduction, and the lore of this universe is certainly intriguing. My one issue is that I don't really feel as though anything is resolved by the end. I want to read the rest of this book or watch the rest of this show, but as far as I know that isn't going to happen. Wendy, Peter, and James are all fun and engaging characters who I'd be down to spend more time with, but I don't feel especially connected to any of them. I'm mostly here for the plot and lore, which, as I've said, doesn't feel complete. It's all setup with only a couple bits of payoff. Still worth the read, but more of a vibes experience than anything else.

In Fire Foretold: This one was an interesting read because I know that CC is planning on developing it into a full series. I think the concept of a reverse portal story is a lot of fun right off the bat, though I admittedly wasn't grabbed by the worldbuilding of the fantasy portion (which might be down to my personal preferences). Once the story jumped forward in time to the real world, I quite liked Alix as a character and enjoyed the ominous impositions of fantasy on her (often grim) reality, though this is another story where the plot took precedence over the characters for me. I'm still intrigued by the cast so far though, and I'm especially glad to see a prominent F/F friendship, since CC has never been great at those. I hope that Julia will get to play a more major role in the full series (like Simon in TMI), though Bram and Corwin seem cool too. In the end it's another story where I'm left wanting more, only in this case I know that I'll get it.

So there you have it! Careful of Books is definitely my favorite Seasons of Shadowhunters book so far, and it leaves me excited to see what will come in Better in Black. Now I'm gonna go reread Nothing But Shadows, because A Sea Change has me missing the merry thieves.

[farfromstrange]

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other. 

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio. 

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you. 

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar. 

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned. 

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you. 

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown. 

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context. 

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again. 

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth. 

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off. 

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior. 

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him. 

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable. 

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to. 

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says. 

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more. 

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last. 

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur. 

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing. 

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore. 

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention. 

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours. 

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.” 

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile. 

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?” 

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him. 

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone. 

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high. 

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

[abybweisse]

Ch207 (p3), You've known me long enough

We get a vague understanding of what life was possibly like for Artie before coming to F. O. L. Orphanage...

...and we learn that Artie and Theo already knew each other before then, too.

But what does Artie mean by telling Theo to not "get scared now" after knowing Artie so long? Afraid of holding a gun... or afraid of Artie? Makes me wonder what Artie did before they both ended up in that orphanage!

Before Artie can elaborate (though he probably wasn't going to right then anyway), he and Theo realize more staff are headed their way.

Of course, that fan translation of the above page was very wrong about what Doll says. She doesn't say she will find a way to keep him/make him hers. No one calls anyone "baby". 😮‍💨 This does not, however, rule out the possibility that Doll tries to have Snake turned into a bizarre doll, if he dies. We do have to worry that bizarre doll Snake might turn against Finny and our earl simply because Finny left him to die. Same problem if Snake somehow lives (which I highly doubt); he could feel abandoned and choose Doll. Snake remaining loyal to our earl might not matter, though; Undertaker could turn him into a basic bizarre doll in order to simply show him off to our earl -- and possibly Finny, too -- later, just to make them feel worse about his death.

The fan translation of the next page isn't nearly as bad. The language here is more formal, but the gist of it was right:

I agree with @fwippysays, who said Finny might be thinking back to his master being arrested, then comparing it to now with Snake dying, because these are moments when Finny feels powerless to help those he cares about.

I hope Snake hears Finny's heartfelt apology for leaving him behind. Thankfully, the snakes are there to witness this: that Finny wanted to destroy Doll and take Snake with him. It's just that he felt he had to focus on their mission, otherwise Snake's death would be in vain.

Now what? Kill the approaching staff?

If Snake dies, I hope the snakes paralyze Doll and find the kids outside. Then they could burn the barn down. No bodies, no bizarre dolls.

[blippymilk]

Do You Have Something to Tell Me?

(Chapter 2)

Veneer x GN! Reader

Read chapter 1 here!

Summary: You’re a normal teen in Mount Rageous, and the biggest Veneer fan known to man. Everybody that knows you knows it too. Unfortunately it’s highly unlikely to date the celebrity of your dreams…unintentionally.

Warnings: Slight cursing, mentions of cheating

“Come on (____)…” Lili said as you readjusted your face in your pillow. “(____) still mad that they missed Velvet?” Romar said standing at your doorstep, bowl of cereal in hand. “What do you think?” Lili replied patting your back. Romar sat his bowl down on your desk and walked over to you. You could feel his shadow over you before he snatched the pillow from under your face. “Stopppp!” You said grabbing another pillow and putting it on top of your face now. “You don’t need to suffocate yourself though.” He said struggling to pull it off of you again.

Eventually he gave up when you weren’t budging and you all three sat in silence. “Is it true that Veneer wasn’t there?” You asked, you voice muffled through the pillow. “I promise Veneer was nowhere in sight, if he was we would’ve come to get you a long time ago.” Lili said. A couple seconds later you pulled the pillow off of you. “Besides I’m pretty sure she was only there because of her brother.” Romar said as you sat up straight. He ate from his bowl again as you shot him daggers. “What?” He said eating as your eye contact got more intense. “Oh uh yeah apparently he snuck away or something and she was trying to track him down.” “She said that?” You asked. “Well that’s what we could make out through her distressed screams.” Lili chuckled.

“She’s such a bratty diva, I bet Veneer is just the same.” Lili said but she was serious.

“Exactly that’s what makes her amazing. Aren’t all the best divas extremely talented?” Romar added on.

“It doesn’t make you anymore talented or attractive.”

“Not exactly true but ok.”

“That’s my opinion though so.”

“And that’s fine, you’re entitled to your wrong opinion.”

“Guys stop bickering,” you interrupted, “It’s a stupid argument we’re about to start here. And Veneer is definitely not a brat.” You made sure Lili heard that last comment.

________________________________________________________

After Lilli and Romar left your house the next day, you couldn’t find anything to do. I mean you had invitations to go places with some of your “friends”, but you weren’t really interested to be honest. You scrolled across the media, then Veneer’s page, then had a little dance break, then viewed Veneer’s page, then got a snack, then…you get the gist.

Finally you put your phone down and searched across your room with your eyes. There was litteraly nothing to do except maybe a couple chores. Why not? You got up an grabbed your jacket that had been laying on the floor for a day. You planned to wash, but before you did you had to check the pockets. One was empty, one contained a piece of paper. That’s when it struck you that you had Victor’s number in your possession. You quickly grabbed the note and threw your jacket back to the floor.

You dialed the number in your phone and quickly hesitated before texting him instead. You sent a simple ‘hi’ and waited for him to respond. Not even 10 seconds later the status changed from delivered to read. ‘Heyyy wsp?’ He responded.

You texted back, ‘Nothing much just a little bored yk.’

Typing… ‘Yeah I feel that. I’m surprised you actually texted me’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. But I’m happy tho :)’

That made you smile a little. Was he actually wanting your time?

The conversation with him lasted all night. You were actually quite entertained by him. You guys played mini games and asked so many questions about each other. You actually got to learn quite a lot of about Victor and that he really was cool. You guys had even moved from talking over text to talking over the phone after not too long.

“Ok ok so any celebrity crushes?” You asked him as he thought. “I mean no not really, I never really thought about having one. I prefer my relationships to be 100% real and thoughtful.” He replied. “How do you know celebrities aren’t real and thoughtful?” You asked. “Umm I don’t? It was really just a guess. Anyways who’s your celebrity crush?” He asked as you started getting excited. “Veneer 100% he’s the hottest guy in Mount Rageous. Ever!” You said. Victor’s line had went silent and after you calmed down you had asked him why he was quiet so suddenly. “Uh no reason.” You were curious now, “Oh come on, I can basically here the smile in your voice,” you stated before your smile dropped, “You better not be crushing on my man Victor! I’ll find your location right now!” He chuckled, “Nope you can keep your man.”

It went quiet for a moment before you yawned. Victor chuckled a little, “Getting tired eh?” You yawned again, “Yeah I’m about to go to sleep soon.” You replied turning off the lights in your room. “Yeah me too. Um- is there like anyway at all we could meet up tomorrow? Possibly? If not it’s fine.” He said catching you by surprise. “I mean sure why not, like to do what?” Veneer hesitated, “Well what do you like to do?” You thought before smiling a bit, “Hmm I like…trampoline parks. Annnndddd I like eating?” You said. “Great! How about I pick you up at 1:00 pm tomorrow?” You agreed and ended the call, immediately climbing into your bed and falling asleep.

________________________________________________________

The next morning you woke up and checked your phone. 11:47. You yawned and suddenly remembered you that you had planned to hang out with Victor today. You turned on some music and began to get ready for your day. You went to your bathroom and began to shower. Maybe it was the hot water that woke you up when it hit you, but you suddenly thought about how Victor had technically asked you on a date. Which wouldn’t be a problem but, you did have a boyfriend (that hasn’t called you in a week). ‘Eh he’dunderstand’ you thought as you continued bathing.

You decided to dress casual since Victor would be taking you to a trampoline park.

(You can choose one of these or choose your own)

Eventually Victor picked you up and you both were headed to the trampoline park. To your surprise Victor’s car was nice, like really really nice. It was the closest you could get to a luxury car without it actually being a luxury car. It was a black vehicle with green rims.

You were left in awe as soon as you hopped in his car. As Victor drove he smiled at you still gaping, “What?” He laughed. “This car is amazing! And so expensive! How did you even afford this? You’re litteraly a teenager!!” You said piling on questions.

“Woah woah,” Victor said interrupting you, “I guess you just have to work hard.” He shrugged. It didn’t really answer you question, and Victor almost seemed unsure but you sat back and enjoyed the ride.

About 3 minutes in and Victor was offering you the aux cord. “Wanna play something?” He asked as your eyes lit up. You quickly hooked it up to your phone and played “Watch me Work”, one of Velvet and Veneer’s hottest songs. “I should’ve known.” Victor smirked. “Shh! Veneer’s part is coming up.” Victor quickly shut his mouth as …Veneer sang his quick line. “Ugh. I swear his sister doesn’t give him enough time on the microphone. I need a song with him leading and Velvet singing, or better yet just Veneer singing.” You said. “You think so?” Victor asked as you nodded, turning up the radio. Maybe if you weren’t so into the song you would’ve noticed how incredibly red Victor’s face was.

You had fun with Victor at the trampoline park and he honestly impressed you. He was very flexible and (you were too but like this man’s insane). He knew how to all sorts of flips. You’d seen him do tricks that you’d also seen Veneer attempt and succeed at on stage before.

After a couple hours at the trampoline park, Victor took you to a pizza restaurant. You both figured it’d be a great way to sit down and get to know each other better.

“So Victor, I don’t know if you recall me asking last time but I was wondering if you’d take your shades off?” You asked before sipping your drink. “Why do you wanna see my eyes so bad huh?” He asked smiling a bit. You shrugged, “I dunno, I mean we’re getting to know each other and I don’t even know the color of your eyes yet, please?” You asked giving him fake puppy eyes. Victor took his glasses off and you were met with…brown eyes. Brown eyes that seemed so familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Almost like you’d seen them before, but something was off about them, as if the wrong color or something. “Happy now?” Victor asked. “Pleased.” You replied before opening your menu.

After going back and forth getting to know each other, you decided you really liked Victor’s company. You figured he liked you too, but in a more romantic type of way. You didn’t want to shoot him down, especially if you didn’t even know if he really liked you or not. After all you did have a…

“Jalen!” You said as you watched your boyfriend walk through the restaurant doors. “Who?” Victor asked you. “My boyfriend.” You replied as Victor cocked his eyebrow, “Your…boyfriend?” he almost sounded defeated, but your eyes were glued to your boyfriend who was standing at the door, looking around the restaurant. Was he here looking for you? Your location wasn’t even on. Was it a coincidence? Out of all the restaurants in the world and he just happened to end up here? However your fear quickly turned to confusion when a girl walked up to him and gave him a hug. The anger when she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Jalen!” You shouted loud enough for him to hear this time. You got up and walked over to your boyfriend who’s eyes widened. “Who is this woman and why is she kissing you?” You asked as he stuttered a bit. “She’s my c-cousin” he stammered. “Don’t hit me with that cousin sh*t Jalen. You’re a liar!” You pushed him a bit. That’s when Victor came up running behind you. “And who’s this?” Jalen’s worry quickly dropped and turned to almost a smug face. “A friend.” You replied crossing your arms. “How do I know you’re not lying to me.” Jalen said. “Stop trying to turn this around.” “Answer the question.”

“She’s not lying man, we’re cool. We’re literally just friends.” Victor spoked up. “No one was talking to you ‘man’” Jalen brushed past you, and met face to face with Victor. “He’s being honest.” You replied. “I don’t know that for sure or not.” Jalen said still glaring at Victor who stood his ground.

“You do this too often! You literally thought I was cheating on you with Romar!” You said. “And I still don’t know if you are or not.” He replied turning back around. “Romar is gay, stupid!” You shouted.

Jalen kept trying to bicker with you and eventually you were over it. “Victor can we just go? I don’t want to be here anymore.” You asked him. “Yeah let me unlock my car you can go wait.” Victor said as you walked out the restaurant. Jalen watched as Victor ran back to the table, and put the leftover pizza in a to-go box.

Once finished, Victor headed back over to the door of the restaurant, glaring at Jalen and the girl before leaving.

“As*holes.” And with that he was out the door.

Taglist: @cookiemunches @crowleysthings (for some reason I couldn’t tag some of you so I’ll just alert you that I posted a part 2)

(I alr have ideas for the next part 😋)

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 8 - Rain

prev - chapter 1

"Huh." Hosah stood over the dirtied, coffee-stained notebook page that sat in-front of him.

His assistant leant in uncomfortably closer, his brain left to wonder what the hell it said for far too long by now, "Well, can you make it out?"

The shifter kissed his teeth, unsure whether to tell the truth and have to read all what it said out loud, or if he should keep the team waiting until somebody else had interpreted and written it up in an email.

"No, no yeah, pretty much." To be fair, he wasn't sure of a couple of ink-smudged words, but as long as he got the gist of it, that would be enough to move the case forward.

As eyes of anticipation bore into him, Hosah realised now was probably the time to start reading. With a heavy sigh, slightly contemplating what he'd gotten himself into, he began;

"You fucking vermin. You don't know me, and frankly, I don't really know you either, but I know enough to come up with the conclusion, that you're all, fucking leeches. People worry about the rats that scurry all around the city, in the subway station, in the trash and down the dark alleyways, but the real fucking rats are right in front of us."

Eugh. Cliche. Boring. All the other adjectives Hosah couldn't quite think of right in that moment,

"But, I've found myself growing fond of you. Watching you from afar. I find myself both loving you, and hating you. The lines have blurred by now. I understand you are human, or at least, that is what you parade yourself around as, but honestly, I'm not too sure you're anything at all. Completely devoid of life. Just an empty pit of nothing hiding in a cold, flesh shell. I see you sitting alone at bars on a Friday night, and I have to really stop myself from sitting down next to you, buying you a drink, taking you home with me, keeping you forever. But I'm not that selfish. Maybe later. You make me furious, because I love you. And I shouldn't, that's what you want, after all, you act cute and helpless, vulnerable and fragile, that's what draws everyone in, you've got that ginger prick hanging on your every word, and look at you. Hot and cold, nothing that you say is what you really mean, you work people up just to run away when they start to act on feelings they thought were returned. It's cruel. But, I can be crueler. We would've made the perfect pair, if you didn't drive me so crazy. You're going to be the death of me, Hosah Seung Levi. And the death of many, many others. I don't know, see how I feel once this gets to you. Let's talk more over drinks next time, though."

Ew. Was this really the type Hosah attracted? Serial killer stalkers? I mean, sounded about right. Some of the note seemed pretty heartfelt, some downright offensive, and some offensively corny. If the whole murder aspect wasn't the main thing that put him off, it'd be the cheesy way they spoke about him.

"I've never even told anyone my middle name." The shifter's voice shook, clearly disturbed by the contents of the letter, despite not wanting to admit to being so.

Teddy leant back in his chair, hands rubbing his face in disgust, not saying a word, just groaning endlessly.

"Man." The giant pushed himself forwards again, eyes fixated on the paper, "Got ourselves a next level freak."

If you were to listen closely, a small, unsettled 'Hmm' could be heard from the tiny man sitting before the sheet. There was so much information to rack his brain on. Hosah hadn't even been to the bar in weeks, meaning this killer had been at the whole stalking game for a while now. He wondered if it was just the fifteen they were guilty of, or if years worth of unsolved homicides were all on their hands. Maybe he'd have to take up the offer to chat over drinks, just to pry all of this information out of the twisted individual with his bare hands.

He wondered about what specifically he’d done to attract this kind of attention. If anything, the shifter thought he’d been keeping his head down lately, staying out of trouble, but it seems the more he tries to avoid these kinds of people, the more attracted to him they become.

The contents of the note echoed in his head, everything else becoming white noise. Vermin he could handle, Rat he’d heard a million times before, but there was something far, far more hurtful about the brutal reality of the situation;

Whoever wrote this, was completely right.

Thinking back to how he’d previously behaved, his cold attitude towards Teddy for no other reason than he felt threatened that there was an off chance of him opening himself up to someone again. It was all true. Sure, Hosah wasn’t a serial killer of any kind, but god did he have it in him to be cruel.

Hit with an unexpected punch in the gut from a little something called shame, the shifter couldn’t help but hang his head down, letting out a troubled sigh,

"Should send this all off to the police. Let them know about the painting and shit. Report the stalking. Get a protection order of some kind. I don't know.. Anything, nothing, I.. I'm just tired to be honest." Hosah sat, cross legged, burying his face in his hands, brushing through his hair as he usually did under stress.

Teddy agreed, "God, yeah definitely, shouldn't reported the painting yesterday. Shit. Well, they'll be over later in the day, can lay down the basics then." In all honesty, nobody knew why they didn't come the day prior, it's not like Jeanne didn't try calling, unlike that useless security guard, so the reason for their no-show was seemingly a mystery.

God, as the days went by, Hosah felt more like Fred Jones rather than any Sherlock Holmes, all he needed was a talking dog and a brightly coloured mini van.

As the shrunken man lost himself in his thoughts, a finger reached over, giving him a gentle rub on the back. The touch almost made the shifter jump out of his skin, but it only took a split second for him to melt into it. Surprisingly, it did its job pretty well, easing Hosah's mind, just a little.

"I'm glad I can be of help for you. Keep you safe and stuff. Just not sure if your secret admirer is all too on board," the giant teased, although it wasn't the best of times to be cracking jokes.

Hosah didn't care to get offended, or to laugh either, instead focusing on making the most of what little physical contact he'd gotten to receive in months. He was too tired to care, really. The whole ordeal tuckered him out. Just the thought of being where he was, working for another few hours, almost lulled him straight to sleep. Sure, being stalked by someone that had a kill count possibly in the twenties was probably about as interesting as his life was ever going to get, but Hosah really didn't have any damns in him left to spare.

Thinking back to his dreams, he wished he could be at a little cabin on the lakeside. Spending his days fishing, collecting firewood for his makeshift oven and heating system, his evenings cooking his catch of the day, and his nights watching the stars, skidding rocks over the surface of the crystal water, looking at the moon in its clear reflection. Summers could be spent riding his horse companion around the forest, herding the sheep on the mountain side, making sure they weren't eaten by any wolves when the sun went down. That was the life he was destined for. Maybe he could spare a couple days of the year to paint such a scene, although it'd have to wait until he could safely return to his own apartment.

Teddy rested his head in his folded arm on the desk, much closer to the shrunken figure, with a much better view of him. He looked tired. At least, more than he usually did. The pronounced fat under his eyes always gave him that sort of sleepy look anyway. The giant felt very, very bad for him. The kind of sympathy you feel guilty just for feeling towards someone. Pity was probably a better way to put it. He was sure Hosah could carry himself as well as anybody else in the building, but his assistant just wanted to crawl inside of his brain and figure out just about everything there was to know. What secrets he kept, what he dreams about, what he thinks of everyone he meets, the songs that get stuck in his head.

Teddy seriously had no idea how anyone could miss just how blatantly human the tiny man is. Maybe the killer had gotten their names mixed up, because it was the 'ginger prick' that felt as though he were a dark, endless pit of nothing, using a human shell to disguise himself.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, this was just about as close as he could get to opening up Hosah's skull and crawling in, and he'd take what he could get.

The shifter shrugged, burying his face deeper in his knees, "This dream I keep having." , he waited for Teddy's 'Hmm?' of approval to continue, "Living by lakeside, never having to work again, spending every day fishing, or painting, reading, just thinking.. It's been my dream ever since I could remember. To do nothing."

"Fishing, painting and reading doesn't sound like nothing."

"You know what I mean, not paying my way in society, living off the grid," Hosah sighed, satisfied with the idea. "Would you come with me? Once this is all over, at least."

Yes. Of course, a thousand yes's. "Haha.. We'll see"

-~-

The rest of the day, Hosah spent on edge. Not that he wasn't constantly in some state of fear anyway, but the whole devocoale had sent him down a spiral of anxiety. In the taxi back to Teddy's place, he convinced himself the car behind them was following him, a creek in the old apartment buildings hallway must've been someone scoping the place out and preparing to break in, the people sitting out on the benches outside must be waiting for him to come out so they could grab him. In summary, Hosah was not having a fun time.

As the shrunken figure sat at the windowsill, watching out of the cracks in the blinds, his eyes squinting to make out any activity in the poorly lit streets, he wondered what kind of person had written him the letter. Obviously, he knew what they were roughly, a monster capable of causing large scale tragedy for the likeness of New York's shifter population, but on the surface, it had to be someone he himself wouldn't peg as such a threat.

He thought about everyone he'd ever interacted with, or at least, within the past month or so. Cashiers, strangers on the tube, people in cars giving him the right away to cross the street. Anywhere he could find any sort of answer, Hosah thought about intensively. The shifter felt his breath shorten as he got himself more and more panicked, he'd felt fear before, the kind of fear that the breath you'd just taken would be your last, but nothing like this. The kind of fear that comes before fight or flight, the lingering feeling that something is extremely wrong. His heart in his throat, Hosah reluctantly closed his eyes, trying to steady his readily increasing heartbeat and his uncontrolled breathing.

"Hey. All good there?"

The voice took him out completely, the shifter momentarily feeling his soul come out of his body as he frantically gasped for air, "FUCK, don't.. sneak up on me like that.." Hosah clutched his chest with one hand, the other wiping he sweat that had built up on his brow, "Scared the shit out of me."

Teddy didn't quite understand the gravity of the situation, as he laughed instead, "Sorry, sorry. You looked lost in thought," the giant leant in closer, his elbows at either side of the man before him, "Something bothering you?"

'Oh, nah, just the fact he'd learnt he was the victim of intensive, violent stalking', was what Hosah really wanted to say, but he didn't want to make any more enemies after learning such a fact.

"Just that note. Trying to remember everyone I've got bad blood with, s'all.." If that was all, he wouldn't be such a ghostly white colour right now, starkly contrasting his usual sienna-adjacent tone.

His assistant turned, lifting himself up to sit on the window sill besides the tiny man, "Never really thought you were the type to go around making enemies," Teddy commented.

"God, not now, no.. But definitely in my early twenties." Ah, the good old days, as most would put it. For Hosah however, these were probably the worst years of his life.

The shifter had tried his best to keep everything he got up to around this period a secret, but of course once he'd gotten settled at his first position when first joining the agency, Jules had to and spread exactly the kind of things he got up to around the office like wildfire. 'Just to break to ice' , as she put it.

He winced at the memory, adding, ".. You've probably heard it around work. Always resurfaces every couple of months. Everyone in that place is so fucking bored man, I mean, isn't homicide enough for them?"

"I haven't heard anything, actually. If you don't want me to know, I'm okay with that. Sucks to have your dirty laundry aired out. I know the feeling." Teddy's eyes lingered on everything else that wasn't the shifter besides him, although his hand seemed to inch closer and closer by the second.

Maybe the two were more alike than they'd initially bargained for.

Hosah shrugged, despite knowing he wasn't being looked at, "It's not that bad. I was just a bit of a.." his hand brushed through his hair, pulling on the strands just a little, as he tried to think of the best way to both vaguely and accurately put it.

"A twenty year old? Hah, we all did shit we regret back then. I'm not gonna judge you for any of that, I know I'm not the same person I was like, five years ago."

Not wanting to push the topic any further, the shrunken figure moved himself directly in front of the hand, leaning over and resting his upper body against it. All he could mutter was a quiet, almost unheard, 'I'm tired,' , his eyes instinctively closing once more. He was definitely going to struggle to get a good nights sleep after the day he had, but it was worth a try.

It turns out, going through emotional turmoil does in fact tucker oneself out, as Hosah seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness right then and there, only now awaking after a night filled with the type of dreams he could only assume to be bad omens.

The dream that awoke him however, was one he recalled clearly, although this time, there seemed to be a twist.

None of that mattered though, as Hosah was back to his full height of five foot seven. The only problem is, he must've stripped off as he was so used to doing whilst in a between state of both awake and asleep, leaving him with no size appropriate clothing.

There was only one option for the shifter, unfortunately.

"..Teddyyyyy,"

The yell was immediately met by a creak in the bedroom door, as if his assistant had been stood outside of it this whole time, waiting for the OK to enter.

Teddy covered his eyes as he walked in, making his way straight towards the wardrobe and throwing the first things he grabbed at the shifter.

"I know, I'll go over and get some of your stuff in a few minutes. Just.. put these on for now whilst I make breakfast."

Ew. Hosah didn't get it. Beautiful people should wear clothes that are of the same level as beauty as the individual, but, in all honesty, the guy dressed like shit. The tattered t-shirt only just hung on to the shifter's slender shoulders, and the pants were a complete lost cause. Instead, he opted for the classic 'My shirt will cover all it needs' look, wandering his way into the living area, where he could smell something cooking in the next room over.

The, for once, regular human sized man peaked over the hollow door frame, watching as his new found roommate flipped the final pancake onto its uncooked side, listening to the sizzling of the mixture against the hot pan rather than starting any kind of conversation. He wondered if things would be different, now that they were on equal grounds to each other.

It didn't take long for Teddy to feel the eyes boring into the back of his head, turning to greet his single audience member, "Morning," He froze for a second, looking Hosah up and down.

Teddy knew he was taller than most, but he didn't expect the shifter to still be so small even when at his regular size. Not only was he much shorter than himself, but he was also much thinner, his knobbly knees poking out from each side of his legs, and his collar bone extending all the way out and to his shoulders where it stuck out like a spike of sorts.

Still, the stark difference in his height from what Teddy had grown used to was definitely going to throw him off. He almost found himself reaching his hand out, the same hand the shifter once lounged in less than a day ago, comparing it to his current size.

"Smells good," Hosah commented after a brief moment of silence, whilst his assistant took in the change of perspective.

It took him a second to get his words out, his train of thought being halted by the sudden spark in conversation, "Yeah, thanks. Should be done by now. Then I'll go and pick up some of your clothes."

He tried his best not to look the shifter in the eye, as he felt his face become progressively redder with every word that came out of his mouth.

Hosah, more casual than ever, just propped himself up on the countertop opposite his assistant. "Cool."

As his eyes fixated on everything else in the room, Teddy couldn't help but compare the countless trinkets and decorations he kept laying around the place to the, once tiny, man.

As the day went on, he found himself seeing Hosah in all different kinds of places. A butterfly resting on a flower as he walked past the park, countless erasers lying around on his desk where the shifter sat not so long ago, without even realising it, Teddy had been staring at his hands for the last five minutes. He should really get back to work.

"Here's what I'm caught up on, how the fuck does this guy know my middle name? It's literally only on like.. My legal documents. That's it."

The shifter's words took Teddy out of his trance, "What?"

"The note." now leant against the desk, Hosah sighed, "I'm just thinking about who would even have access to any of that stuff. Jules is the only one with the skeleton key for all the filing cabinets and shit,"

"Is it on your ID, maybe?"

Eyebrows furrowing, the shifter thought about the question for a second, ".. Shit. I don't know. Maybe? Fuck, yeah, since in the note it said about the bar.. But I don't even get ID'd anymore"

"I don't want to scare you but.. Could be premeditating for longer than you'd think." Teddy instantly regretted the words as soon they left his mouth, "Maybe. It's just an idea. Might be wrong too."

He looked at his hand, then back at the shifter, and then back and forth a few times more, not really listening to whatever was being spoken at him. The clothes on Hosah's body hung loose on his frame, despite them being his own, maybe this wasn't his full height after all, or maybe he just hadn't had the chance to get more form fitting options for a while. Something about the bruises Teddy had noticed scattered across the shifters legs, and the fact he could now see his sunken features much clearer, evoked an urge to protect him.

Hosah had made it clear to him that he was in no need of protecting. Just watching him make his way around the apartment when he was a mere three inches tall solidified that fact, but that still didn't stop the assistant from wanting to help him. He could want all he wanted, despite the fact it's not what he necessarily needed, which sort of made Teddy feel better about pitying the man.

Instead of focusing on Hosah’s chatter, his assistant couldn’t help but reach for the phantom weight in his pocket. There used to be someone in here, but now he’s not, and that hurt Teddy’s heart, just a little.

".. Anyway, I'm gonna go see my doctor tomorrow. Im due a visit. I'll meet you back at your place, if... if you still think it'd be better if I stayed." The uncertainty in his last few words concerned the assistant slightly, only just know focusing back into the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah, no I don't think you should risk staying at your own place for a while. At least not alone, anyway." Teddy reached his hand out for Hosah's, trying to give a reassuring touch, but instead, he became focused again on his size change.

The hand that once held his entire form could now only wrap around his wrist, and that Teddy did. He didn't even realise it until Hosah commented,

".. What are you doing?" the shifter asked, arm raised as the hand gently grabbing it had pulled it in closer.

Noticing the fact, he let go, muttering a quiet 'Sorry' , his face now burning up.

Fortunately for the assistant, Hosah did not take offence, or get annoyed at, the action. He didn't even lower his hand, instead, he just smiled.

"It's ok. It's weird right?" the shifter spun on his heel, leaning over Teddy in his seat, placing his hand down next to his assistant's resting one, "Just yesterday, I was right here. Aha."

It's almost as if he took pleasure in seeing the seated man become progressively more and more flustered.

As Hosah's fingered inched closer to the other person's tightly closed fist, he also began to think about the shift in perspective. He also thought about telling a white lie the next morning, making it out that his shrinking had been just so unpredictable lately, forcing him back into the same hand that rest besides his own.

No, not yet, at least. He had stuff that needed to be done at this height still. Besides, he hadn't pulled that trick since he was much younger, when he wanted to spend the day home from school, or to get out of any kind of family gathering he wasn't particularly bothered to attend. Those were the days. Lounging around on his dad's shoulder, spending the day doing nothing at all productive. Just hanging out, sometimes not even speaking, and enjoying the silent presence of each other.

Ah, there's another thing he had to do, call his dad.

"Well," Hosah stood back up to his full height, his hand now moved to pat his assistant on the shoulder, "Back to work."

Right, work. The shifter still had about an hours worth of security footage to try and make out. Why Scotty wasn't doing this, he had no idea. Hosah always seemed to get saddled with the short end of the stick when it came to big investigations like this one, even if he himself was a highly regarded target to the killer.

So far, there was nothing. Almost as if the package just appeared out of thin air. The fact the computers ran at what seemed to be a frame-per-second wasn't helping either. Rewinding took a whole minute, then the footage would buffer like crazy. He should've really just brought a notebook to jot these things down in, as Hosah thought of a new objective that needed to be met; complain to Jules about the dated technology they were saddled with in the shifter specialised unit.

As he sat, staring at the forever spinning wheel that was the computer loading screen, Hosah could only think of one thing, just how badly he wished to be tiny again. The thought had never crossed his mind before, but now, being reintroduced to the feeling of being held in a single hand, the shifter found himself longing for that touch.

He knew he should’ve just kept his guard up, stuck to what he knew and kept Teddy at an arms length, but Hosah always found himself in these kinds of situations. Finding love and warmth in all the wrong places at all the wrong times.

And when you have a crazed killer out to get you, you should probably avoid becoming distracted with meaningless things like touch deprivation. After all, there are bigger things to focus on, and, despite his height, Teddy was not one of them.

[81buttons]

Can you translate the gist of those comments for us non Spanish speakers please 😅 I’m always hitting the translate button since Argentinian fans flood so many f1 pages now lol but I cbf hunting down that post if I’m being real

sorry I really thought I’d already translated it! Here’s the gist of a few comments from the previous post :

“Retirement! Let’s all cheer for little Franco next year! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!”

“Guys… It’s been an honor to be here. Sadly it didn’t work out. The fans are leaving until we meet again. Colapinto God’s clutch is coming!”

“Do we have to go?”

honestly they made me laugh 'cause their "departure" was so dramatic especially since they’d been saying for days that they were leaving, but yeah it’s pretty satirical

I get why people are annoyed by all the comments though. Honestly, I blame the media (mostly Argentine) for spreading fake info or headlines to get attention and people just get carried away...

Anyway that’s it have a great day love!

[afconfessions]

Howdy. Personal interpretation anon here (if you somehow still remember me from last Cyalm rant) with MORE unnecessarily long and nonsensical interpretations on Stratosfear this time (:D) because it’s been bugging my head for MONTHS!Q

On the subject of: How much has Cyalm broken Stratosfear?

This is all hypothetical of course so please don’t raise your pitchforks at me.

(Also, to the anon that asked for personal interps, PLEASE reveal thyself and i want to be friends with you!!! Though I have a striking suspicion ik who you are)

Stratosfear has so much potential interpretations because of the LORE that he has! (and anyone who has one, YES, I’D LOVE TO HEAR IT!) To the extent that I am staring at a 10-page long document about this interp so I’ll shorten it down as much as I can… but it’s still pretty long)

Now where do I begin…

I headcanon him having Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or C-PTSD. It is slightly different than PTSD, being instead the result of experiences of prolonged or repeated traumatic events over a very long period of time - which, this is 300 years we’re talking about. And what are those events? Trap Town, end of the line, the time loop(s), Mason’s pointification, fighting his younger, more naive self as Stratosfear, locked in the Stratosphere, being controlled like a puppet.

You get the gist.

Cyalm has, directly or not, abused Stratosfear less on the physical spectrum but more as psychological abuse, both mentally and emotionally via the events above (I’ll give you time to think about it).

For instance, we take a slice of Mason’s pointification event. The Star Savior has done almost the same thing 42 times. He has saved all 80 stars 42 times. And he watched Stratosfear betray himself. 42 times.

The prospect that Maytown is controlled by a malevolent celestial force with the strings of time merely at their fingers wherein Maytown is stuck in a perpetual time loop over and over and over and over and over again, with a destiny of madness and misery caught up in the cosmic cogs that powers another chapter in a cruel and merciless narrative - and yet despite everything all the Maytown folks just go on their day worshipping the Star Savior as if he is capable of saving them, as if he knew what the stars is he doing?

Keeping in such knowledge any longer and even the most secretive of folks would explode. So to not have that result, Star Savior told his dearest, best friend about everything. But he never should have told Mason that he was not fine; that he didn’t love saving people from the demon - the monster - they call Stratosfear, and he never should have told Mason that their fates were already written in the stars. Because what did he lose? Everything. Everything went wrong. Nothing went right. Now, Star Savior had lost everything that mattered to him.

Because then, it was Cyalm that pointified Mason and made him lie in a crumpled heap as the yellow symbol sucked the light out of his mortal life, it was Cyalm that sent Stratosfear back in time to fight himself. It was Cyalm who added Maytown to the next chapter. Worse, it was Stratosfear who was the source of all this suffering.

So that was a long example. I like to think the Stratosphere - Stratosfear’s domain - was his prison where he is trapped in the depths of his deepest, darkest thoughts. It had some cool parkour (iirc), but overall it was dark. It was very dark indeed, where his new world was painted n black and red hues. Where he was given to do nothing but think. Think about things that came from the bottom pits of the memories that played the previous events. Think about what he had done to Mason. To everyone.

For the next 300 years.

THREE. HUNDRED. FREAKING. YEARS.

That’s 109,575 days, 157,788,000 minutes and 3,155,760,000 head bonks against the wall! (i hope i got the math right or i am really cooked)

It was just practical hell for him!

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED on him getting CONTROLLED LIKE A PUPPET by Cyalm! SURE, Stratosfear had his whole life and mentality ruined, but the remains of what he treasured were the freedom of movement! This? Cyalm had intentionally (maaaaybee) robbed away every. single. piece. of freedom that Stratosfear once had.

Everyone in Maytown had hated him for the monster he secretly was. With 300 years in the Stratosphere, his own mind seemed to twist into a form of self-hatred. Now? With Cyalm in control, every part of his body - from the fringe of hair to the scratch at the end of his foot - had turned against him. There was nothing to let him scream his helplessness at. No one to talk to; Cyalm had learnt Their lesson.

And so has he.

And if you aren’t convinced that Cyalm had broken almost every single scrap of sanity and mentality he had, I don’t know what will!

(good lord, i must’ve gone off my rocket there)

On another note, I have read once or twice (a conversation from source where I forgot 💀), they were discussing on the topic of how’d Stratosfear react if he saw Cyalm again in his post-shattered form. The replies were generally anger - like, intense anger at Them, or absolute hatred. I heartedly agree, especially with the latter. But I also disagree. Personally I think that this is not his main emotion, instead it would deviate as the lesser and smaller emotion (and this is highly subjective, don’t take it personally)

A stark reminder (and in my defense): his abuser is a literal GOD. As said earlier: Cyalm was the one who turned Mason into Anshine and wiped out his memories. Cyalm created the new world for Stratosfear, something much worse. Cyalm had been the malevolent force behind Maytown. Cyalm had twisted Stratosfear’s life into something of prolonged suffering that could last indefinitely if They wanted to. Cyalm breathed the words of inevitability onto Their paper and it turned out just the way They wanted… almost. Basically, Cyalm has pure and divine control over Stratosfear’s everything and anything.

In the place of hatred, it would be the intense fear that Cyalm would whip up something brutally punishing and effective the moment Stratosfear stepped out of line - They’d done that to Mason and pointified him. It would be fear that Cyalm would gladly and without hesitation hurt the people Stratosfear loved… loves… and would force him to watch. Fear that he’d be under the supreme control of Cyalm where even his mind and soul obeys Their every command. And fear that Cyalm was the one who breathed immortality onto Stratosfear - withdrawing the beautiful luxury of death - that with such omnipotence and Godliness that Stratosfear is a mere slave standing before the creator of the world and suffering that now he lived in.

Hypothetically - and hypothetically of course - it was not anger, or even hatred that stood in place first: it would be fear. Cyalm manipulating the fear They had instilled in Stratosfear, in everything They say may, and very possibly, can be turned into reality. Mason has already died and been rebirthed. Maytown had died. Stratosfear died in his own way, brought back to the world scarred and absolutely shattered. 

Anyway, this is long enough already so I’ll end it here. But then, with all that’s being said, I haven’t quite dug deep into the psychological wounds Cyalm had done that had, quite metaphorically and literally shattered him.It brings up another question: How much will it take to fix him?

I am SO SORRY to the admin that had to read this. Anyway, good day.

DONT BE SORRY???? WHAT THE PSYCH EVALUATION??? (mouthwashing reference) HELLO? - ⁉️

[storytimewithtibby]

warnings: degradation, self stimulation, non-gendered reader, harpy word count: 1434  work - Heaven is Your Sharp Tongue a/n - harpy intro on the blog, requests are open, i'll be creating her page tomorrow but I feel like this gives the gist.

     This was going to be the last time, you weren’t going to do this again. The thin red lips glossy and cruel on her pfp made you bite your own lower lip. Just one more, ignoring the screech from your bank account. The callout post that was your inbox showing just how many videos you’d paid for already. Each of them personal as though she could use the money deposited to stare into your soul and pluck loose just the right words to break you. 

     The video calls were somehow worse. Maybe it was seeing her need no time at all to eviscerate you down to the marrow. The sickeningly sweet croon was venom, the pity in her gaze barely concealing her disgust was piercing. The way she sat there looking bored, hoping for anyone else, but it was just… you. It did a lot of things, and you didn’t want to examine the why too closely. 

     Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you hesitated before typing in your password and clicking log in. Her purr felt like velvet against your skin, Well look what the cat dragged in…, right through your earbuds as her page loaded. The way those seven words twisted like a knife in your gut, wringing a spark of pleasure from you as the tip nicked your spine. 

     Every single video was locked behind a paywall, and the bricks were high. You’d joked once that you paid her rent while others struggled with her light bill. It had been a delightful mistake, her keen eye catching sight of the comment among hundreds of others and leaving a simple lol. Maybe it was the simplicity of the cut, or the fact that she hadn’t bothered to tear into you at all. Like you weren’t worth the time. 

     She really had your number. And yet she didn’t call, a snarky voice attempted to drag you out of the mire you willingly sank yourself into. Seeing a new video, your pulse began to race, dragging your mouse slowly across the pad. Like you weren’t going to click, like you were going to manage to pull up out of the nose dive your self respect was taking just being on her site.

     Aching, you clicked the vid as anticipation gnawed at you with dull teeth. They dug in and burst vessels to bruise, burn, and ache. And you weren’t disappointed, captured by the green eyes that held a halo of molten gold that flickered as she sneered into the camera. Fuck. 

“You didn’t even hesitate to click, did you? Saw I posted something new and cracked your poor mouse slamming your finger down on it so hard.’ 

     There’d been a moment, brief as it may have been. You hadn’t hurt your wrist sliding it across well worn felt. That’d only happened the once because a video had been titled, just for you. Your other hand slid into your pants, feeling yourself cringe even as the lust swirled lazily against the pit that had settled in your stomach. 

“Already have a hand down your pants just anticipating what I might say next.’ Shit. “Go on, someone may as well make use of that disgusting thing between your legs. Now one else is going to.’ 

     You’d lie later and say that you’d already begun lightly stroking yourself, fingers wet before she’d told you to. That was part of the game, watching as her gaze flicked downwards as if she could see what you were doing through the screen. A brief wrinkle of her nose as if she was disappointed, oh god.

“A little faster, I have other places to be. You think I have time to sit here and wait for you to try and be impressive? We both know it ain’t happening, sweetie.’ You tasted copper, your lower lip throbbing as blood welled out of the indents. “Unless you can’t even manage that on your own and I have to talk you through it like the waste of space that you are. Zeus help me, why do I bother with you mortals at all. Each of you are just one more fetid piece of shit on Gaia’s gracious gift.’

     Each word felt like a small lash, the tips barbed and sticking in your skin to pull at nerves that sparked and burned. Her head turned away from the camera, pulling out a tube of lipstick and carefully applying it. A clawed fingertip carefully cleared away a bit of crimson that was out of place, not that you could tell, aching as your hand put in the work. She looked amazing, the sharp cheekbones enhanced by the subtle make up. 

     If she’d just look at you, you could finish, honest. But she very deliberately took her time in recapping the lipstick, before reaching for the eyeliner. You knew her make up routine by heart, watching as she leaned close, her breath soft as it passed over the sensitive mic. You’d kill to kiss her, just the once, if she didn’t tear your heart out and drop it on the ground before you managed it. 

“I was going to stay in and check my inbox, I know you’ve got something in there waiting.’ She sounded exhausted at the thought, and you felt a pulse of raw need. “But something worth my time came up, so you’ll just have to wait. I’m sure the riveting request will still be just as fucking basic when I get back to it. So I might as well find someone actually fun to do.’ 

     It was right there, hovering just out of grasp. You felt raw, going too hard, too fast, gaze flicking down to the bar at the bottom that showed there was only a minute of video left. No, no, please… Finally pleased with her makeup, her head turned, and damned if you didn’t perk like the begging dog you were. Only to have her completely by pass the camera and grab something off screen. The rich bronze brown of her feathers gleamed in the light as they hid her from view, the muffled sound of something clattering tickling your anxiety. 

“Did you know there were actual interesting people out there? Maybe you should go out tonight too.’ 

     When the wing moved, you could see her again. There was a small crystal vial in her hand, watching her pull out the stopper and lightly dab the opposite wrist, the elbow, and then skim it along the line of her throat to behind her ear. You’d tried to find the bottle so you could buy it, just so you could smell her when you were in bed masturbating to the audios that you’d saved. But it must be custom, and there were not letters anywhere on the bottle. 

“Not that you’d find anybody that would want to take you home, but it would mean you’d stop ogling me like the pathetic creature you are.’ 

     The stopper switched hands, slowly slid back into the vial as she sighed. Pleasure thrummed through you, your breath little more than gasps as you chased the release that refused to come when called. Not like you didn’t know how, you’d been doing it long enough. But it just stayed just out of reach, feeling the heat in your cheeks, the trickle of sweat along your skin. 

“I don’t have any more time, I’m going to go get fucked properly. You can finish what you’re doing and then rewatch the vid like we both know what you’re going to do. Don’t forget to tip.’

     Her eyes flicked towards the camera over her wing as she put the vial back, and the orgasm slammed into you with all the forgiveness of a bullet train. Your hand was covered, slick, and you kept going, whining as your hips rocked into the stimulation, the hand that held your mouse clenched into a fist. 

“Got you, didn’t I?’ Your fingers went too hard, seeing stars, wheezing as another orgasm struck you. “Of course I did. Zeus you’re pathetic... Say thank you.’

     “Thank you…’ you whispered to the blank screen, still seeing the way her face had screwed up at the end as though she’d seen the mess you’d made of yourself. 

     You left your tip, and logged out. The absolute last time, you weren’t doing that again. Tomorrow you were going to get one of those positive affirmation calendars or something. You were better than this, really you were. … You almost believed that lie, pulling your hand from your pants to see the evidence to the contrary, shivering in the aftershocks.