#actually seems like a genuinely cool piece of kit if you are into that sort of thing i have to say

[randlrecs]

One of bigger products mentioned in eb315 and that they've mentioned a few times now, was Oura Ring. They've even invested in this compwny so they must like it!

This lightweight and water resistant wearable tech will measure your temp and heart rate, track your sleep, steps and calories burnt etc. It links to an app, is both Apple Health and Google Fit compatible and comes in a few finishes.

It's also got some new features coming in 2022 that include measuring your blood oxygen levels, period tracking/prediction and linking to guided audio sessions such as meditation.

It does only come in one width and thickness style but you can order different ring sizes so you don't need to worry about it not fitting.

It's pretty pricy, with the newest version being $299 and the Oura app being another $6.99 a month (first six months free) but frankly plenty of smart health tech is around the same price. You can only order it only via the official site. (Unless you live in Finland where they have a physical store, but as we all know Finland doesn't exist 😉).

[aswallowssong]

I’m Fine

In which Spencer is once again hiding the fact that he doesn’t feel well. The Big Kid Squad conspires to play a sneaky game from James’s “nerd-camp” to get their youngest to cooperate, but as most things do when you’re seventeen, it blows up in their faces. It’s okay though. James Blake is the dad no one expected him to be.

This drabble is based in @themetaphorgirl‘s Patron Saints AU (Patron Saint of Lost Causes), which is AMAZING and YOU SHOULD READ.

Read on AO3

------

In retrospect, they all should have seen it coming. It tended to start the same way. The eye rubbing always came first, as if the nine year old was trying to physically remove the discomfort sprouting there. Then there was the lack of chatter; the quiet that was so unlike their youngest member that even Emily and Dave started to get uneasy, instead of enjoying the fleeing silence.

By the time he hit the stage of general grumpiness and irritability, everyone knew exactly what was going on.

Spencer got sick all the time. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t surprising.

It was, however, really starting to bother the Big Kids that he would vehemently deny, deny, deny until he was melting down, and someone was physically scraping him off the floor.

And that was how they found themselves having a pre-movie night “Big Kids” meeting in the lounge while Derek, Penelope, and JJ kept Spencer distracted. Their youngest had almost thrown a fit when Hotch had said that no, he couldn’t stay with them, and no, they couldn’t just pretend he wasn’t there. He’d been assured that Penelope needed him for a very special craft, and while he’d pouted and grumbled, he hadn’t melted down. Not yet.

“I can’t do this,” Emily said, toying with the bracelets on her arms. “I can’t tiptoe like this all the time.”

“It’s not all the time,” Hotch said defensively from his spot on the floor, “It’s just when he’s being… you know.”  He gestured vaguely, making it very apparent he didn’t quite know himself.

“When he doesn’t feel well,” Alex said gently, shifting her position on the couch to press closer to James. She hated when Spencer struggled, and judging by the way he’d become more and more irritable over the last two days, the weekend would be a struggle in and of itself.

“He’s literally sick all the time!” Emily shot back. “I love him, you guys know I do, but really? He could say something before he’s a ticking time bomb of grumpy, crying illness.”

“I don't know,” Dave said from his place in the armchair, “He’s made it pretty clear he just wants to be left alone.”

“Yeah, and we see how well that goes,” she countered.

Hotch sighed loudly, running a hand down his face. Spencer had ended up in his bed the night before, sometime around three in the morning, and he’d been too tired to confront the issue then. He’d have done it once he woke up, but by that time the child was gone.

It was made very clear at breakfast when Spencer denied that it had even happened that they were really in for it.

There was quiet between the five of them for a minute before James said thoughtfully, “Well. We could have him play.”

“Absolutely not,” Alex said as Dave quickly shook his head and said, “Not a chance.”

Hotch and Emily exchanged a look before Hotch looked to James.

“I’m lost. Play what?”

“There’s this game the three of us play called I’m Fine-”

“Spencer is way too smart for I’m Fine, Jamie.” Alex said, shifting away from him to look him full in the face.

James raised an eyebrow.

“You and Dave and I play I’m Fine. We have for years. He might be a genius, but no one is too smart for I’m Fine.”

“What the fuck are you all going on about?” Emily asked, arms crossing over her chest.

Dave chuckled quietly. “I’m Fine is a game James made us start playing Sophomore year that he learned from some girl at his nerd summer camp.”

“Hey!” James said, though he didn’t look offended. He was grinning. “Going to HOSA camp was cool! Kit taught it to our whole camp crew, and you guys like I’m Fine, so don’t bash.”

“Please,” Hotch said, just a bit loudly. “Will someone explain this game? And how you think it’s going to help with the Spencer issue?”

The three seniors looked at each other for a moment before Alex gestured, sighing quietly.

“Go ahead, Jamie, but I don’t think it’s going to work.”

James already had a grin on his face.

“Okay! When I was at HOSA camp between Freshman and Sophomore year - shut up, Dave! - I was on a crew with the girl named Kit from Vermont. She was in the healthcare pathways track at her high school, and none of that is really all that important, but she taught us this game they play in her cadre.”

“Which,” Dave said, one finger held in the air to cut off James mid-thought, “Is objectively not actually a game.”

“It is a game!” James defended. “There is a winner and there’s a loser. And there’s rules. How is it not a game?”

“I don’t care!” Emily said, hands gesturing wildly in the air as she grew more agitated. “Just keep going. We aren’t going to have them distracted very much longer.”

“Okay, okay,” James said, “so basically here’s what you do.”

It took a few minutes, but once James had laid out the rules, Alex shook her head gently.

“It only works for the three of us because we all agree to play. We’ve all agreed to play for years now. It’s more of a pleasantry anyway. Spencer’s too smart, he’ll see right through us.”

“I don’t know,” Hotch said, “Spencer is really competitive. And, he’s nine. He’ll probably miss the part where it’s only sort-of a game-”

“Hey!”

“And he’ll think he can trick us.”

“Or he’ll think he’s smarter than us,” Emily said, “He already does most of my homework. There’s no way he’ll be willing to admit we can outsmart him. And he’s been saying he’s fine for days, it’ll be easy to get him to say it again.”

They all looked to Alex, and after a moment she nodded, fiddling with the bow that had started to slip out of her hair.

“Okay. We can try, but if this doesn’t work, you all need to figure out another way to get him to admit he feels terrible. I don’t want this to end with a meltdown.”

James grinned, squeezing her upper arm gently, victory already in his eyes.

“Oh, this is going to work. You’ll see.”

-----

“I don’t wanna watch Toy Story,” Spencer whined. His voice was raspy, as if it physically pained him to grumble about the offending Disney movie.

They’d only gotten the Baby Squad back ten minutes before, and Spencer was in full-grump mode. He had pouted when Alex suggested he cuddle with her on the couch, insisting that he “wasn’t a baby” and “I want to sit on the floor!”

That’s exactly where he was, back pressed against Dave's armchair. His blanket had been retrieved by Alex and was on the couch, but when Hotch had offered it to him he’d nearly taken the older boy’s head off.

“It’s JJ’s turn to pick, and she wants to watch Toy Story,” Alex said patiently, frowning while looking at how pale he was under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the seventh floor lounge.

“But we watched Toy Story twenty three days ago!” He whined, louder than before. Dave noticeably winced at the sound.

A piece of popcorn flew across the room and hit Spencer just above his left eye. “Then when it’s your turn after JJ, don’t pick Toy Story,” Derek said, smirking just slightly at his own joke.

“But I don’t want to watch it at all!”

JJ rolled her eyes, but otherwise seemed unbothered by what was happening. She knew Spencer was sick. She knew the Big Kids would fix it. And she knew that Buzz and Woody didn’t really care about the grumbling nine year old behind her.

Hotch, however, raised an eyebrow, watching Spencer with new intensity.

He did genuinely look terrible. It wasn’t them being overprotective, or Emily being agitated. Spencer had been avoiding them all day, and now that they had a good look at him, it was easy to see why.

The baby of their group was as white as a sheet, save for the fever red flush across his cheeks. He was shaking too, though it was unsure if that was from the grumpy rage he was sending towards the TV, or because he was trembling as fever chills snaked up his spine.  How the shadows under his eyes were so dark, considering he was out like a light when Hotch had found them sharing the older boy’s mattress, could be anyone’s guess.

There were probably things the others didn’t notice that James would, what with him so desperately and intentionally trying to become a doctor someday. That’s why James was the cornerstone of their plan. They just had to get all the right conditions.

“Spencer,” Hotch warned gently as the younger boy whined about Toy Story for probably the seventeenth time, “You’re being rude. JJ is allowed to pick whatever she wants.”

“I’m not! Toy Story is a stupid pick! She picked it last time!”

Hotch sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. He turned to make eye contact with Alex, and when he nodded, she got up from her spot on the couch.

She quietly knelt next to Spencer, right at the foot of Dave’s chair, and spoke just a bit louder than she normally would when she was trying to calm him down.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to come sit on the couch?”

“I’m not a baby, Alex!” Spencer whined, like a baby. “I wanna sit here on the floor! Like everyone else! You aren’t bothering anyone else!”

She worried at her lip for a second before sighing, turning to face James, and finally nodding.

“Spencer…” She said even more gently, pressing further when James nodded back, and moving to push his bangs off of his forehead, “are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine!” He shrieked, trying to swat her hand away.

Bingo.

Alex backed off as James leaned forward from his position on the couch.

“Hey, Spence,” he said gently.

James had a totally different approach to Spencer than the rest of the Big Kids. Alex had agitated him, but when he turned to look at James, his body language softened. James was goofy and usually didn’t treat Spencer like a baby, so he was the perfect candidate for their pseudo-intervention.

“What?” Spencer asked, though his tone was still harsh. It wasn’t as aggressive as it had been with Alex, though, so James pressed on.

“Do you want to play a game?”

There was a moment in which Spencer was quiet before his nose scrunched, squinting up at James with suspicion.

“I… I don’t…” He started, resolve almost cracking before any plan needed to be enacted at all. Then, there was a loud yell from the offending movie. Spencer sighed angrily, rubbing at his eyes fervently. “Anything is better than Toy Story.”

“Great,” James said evenly, “so you’ll play?”

“What game?”

The Big Kids seemed to collectively hold their breath, waiting for James to explain and hoping it wouldn’t all blow up in their faces.

Penelope and Derek had lost interest in the television, much more interested in what was going to happen now between Spencer and the Big Kids. JJ didn't seem to mind that no one else was watching, shoving handfuls of popcorn in her face and minding her own business as Woody and Buzz bantered back and forth.

"It's called I'm Fine,” James said simply.

Spencer squinted further, as if the glasses were doing nothing for him.

"That sounds stupid,” came his raspy whine, and Hotch audibly sighed.

Emily's eyes widened a bit, glancing to where Dave was sitting, and then to Penelope, who was swatting at JJ’s arm in an attempt to pry her attention away from the movie and onto the battle that was clearly unfolding right in their very lounge.

Alex's arms were crossed, lips pursed. She wore an expression that showed exactly how happy she was about the whole situation, and she was only going to be satisfied once it was all over and Spencer was cuddled in her arms.

"You haven't heard the rules yet. It's... a brain game," James offered, not at all affected by Spencer's tone and demeanor. If anything, he seemed to soften more to it.

Spencer shifted on the floor, clearly uncomfortable but not willing to move from his defiant choice.

"It is?"

"Sure. I'll tell you the rules and you can decide if you want to play me."

Now Spencer sat forward on his haunches.

"I'm gonna play you? In a brain game?" He sounded unimpressed as he rasped his skepticism.

Dave snorted from behind Spencer, not trying very hard to mask his amusement, but James still sat, unphased, and simply nodded at the grumpy nine year old in front of him.

"Yeah, you're gonna play me in a brain game."

"Okay, I like winning. Tell me the rules."

James sat back a little, biding his time. He knew the longer he waited Spencer out, the more tired he would get, and the easier the game would be.

"Well, the game usually starts when someone says "I'm fine," after someone else asks if they're feeling okay."

Spencer's eyes flashed with suspicion again.

"But I am fine."

"Right. That's what you said. So now, the game starts. Normally the person who asks if you're sick get's to play with you, and that's Alex, but I figured you'd maybe want to play with me instead. Is that what you want?"

Spencer looked up at Alex for a moment, seemingly weighing their intelligence against one another in his mushy, grumpy fever brain.

"I'd rather play you."

"You wanna play me?"

Spencer's eyebrows tugged together.

"I just said that."

"You have to say it officially. No take-backsies."

Spencer stared at him for a moment with the sort of incredible distaste that can only come from an ill child.

"That's stupid."

"Spencer. Rude," Hotch reprimanded gently, but James held a hand up.

"No, it's fine. Those are the rules, Spence, stupid or not."

Spencer rolled his eyes and sighed in a huff.

"Fine, yes, James , I want to play you and not Alex."

James grinned, nodding and humming quietly.

"Great. So here's how we play. I get to guess up to five symptoms you might be having, you know, because I think you're feeling pretty crummy."

"I'm-"

"I know, you're fine. That's what you said, anyway. So I get to guess, and if I get three right, you have to give in, and let mama over there in on how you're really feeling."

Spencer seemed to deflate, arms crossing around his midsection, paling further if possible.

"But I'm... fine." He frowned, seeming to not quite understand what was going on.

"Right. So that's the other part. If I get three or more wrong, we'll all leave you alone. You're fine. We'll let you be."

James sat back fully on the couch now, done with his part. Now it was up to Spencer to take the bait.

All eyes were on the nine year old, even JJ's, as he fidgeted and rubbed at his eyes roughly. He finally looked up at James and said, "You have to get three?"

"Yep. More than half."

"And if I win... you'll all leave me alone?"

The question was clearly more directed at Alex and Hotch, his eyes even darting up to the older girl nervously.

Alex nodded, head dipping towards James.

"If you win, we'll all leave you alone. But if Jamie wins, you have to let go, baby," she said gently, words feather light on the top of the thick, tense air that now blanketed the room.

Spencer now narrowed his eyes not at James, but Alex.

"I'm not a baby," he said with an air of finality that would have been intimidating if it wasn't obvious now that he was most certainly trembling.

"Great," James said, "ready to start?"

"Start?"

"Well, ready for me to guess, I guess."

James tilted his head in a way that was searching, but not confrontational. It took a minute, but Spencer gave the smallest nod.

Hotch, was quite frankly, amazed that Spencer was so competitive that he was about to let himself be called out. He also took a small moment to be thankful that Spencer was nine years old, and not fourteen, and that even though he was a genius, he really only had the processing power a nine year old's brain development could offer.

"Okay, so I'm going to guess that you have a fever, based on flush and shaking alone. If you don't, I’ll be more concerned, actually.”

When Spencer frowned and curled into himself slightly, eyes downcast, James offered a small smile. He shifted on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “You can come up here if you want.”

Spencer shook his head quickly, and then stopped with just as much force. Everything was too bright and the carpet was too scratchy on his fever-sensitive skin. He was cold, too, even though he was already wearing a sweater of Hotch's that absolutely dwarfed him. His stomach hurt and his head hurt and everything hurt and he just wanted to be held.

But he wasn't a baby. They always treated him like a baby and he could handle himself just fine. He was fine.

He shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before he spoke in a weak voice.

“No. I want… I want to be on the floor. I’m not a baby.”

“I’m not a baby, and I’m not on the floor,” Emily offered, and Spencer didn’t even open his eyes to respond.

“Emily, you can’t solve basic trigonometric functions, you are a baby.”

Derek masked his laughter by clearing his throat, and Penelope by shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth, but Dave laughed at Emily’s annoyed glare openly.

James didn't break stride for a second. "I'd also guess you've got a headache. You're rubbing at your eyes."

"I can't see well. I always rub at my eyes," Spencer whined defensively, though it was obvious some of his resolve was starting to crumble.

"Not like that, you don't," James said softly, "How am I doing?"

"I don't want to play anymore," the younger mumbled, tightening the arms he had wrapped around his midsection. It was an obvious attempt to self-soothe, and James shook his head gently.

"I'm going to say my first two guesses were right then."

There was quiet for a moment, everyone trying to decide what the next ten seconds would bring.

What happened was not what they expected.

James got off the couch, moving so that he could sit down cross legged on the floor across from Spencer. He kept his posture open, mouth tugging into a gentle smile.

"Can I have my next guess?" He asked, gently tipping his finger under Spencer’s chin to bring his head up.

Spencer took a shaky breath and looked up to meet James's eyes. Slowly he nodded, eyes already beginning to well with tears.

James gestured to Spencer's arms tightly clasped around his midsection, eyes kind and voice gentle, as if he was apologizing.

"Your stomach’s sick, isn’t it?"

That did it. The tears in Spencer's eyes absolutely poured down his cheeks, a loud wail bubbling up from his chest as he let all the walls he'd tried to keep up crumble around him.

He flung himself not at Alex or Hotch, who were both now standing, ready to move. Instead, he flung himself into James. His thin arms latched around James's neck, face burying in his shoulder as his body was wracked with sobs.

James heard Alex hum behind him, surely wanting to comfort Spencer herself, but holding back. Spencer’s wails were choppy and gasping, those of a much younger child than even he was, and there was nothing the group of teenagers could do as they watched him fall to pieces in James’s arms.

James appeared to be unphased. He simply gathered their youngest more securely against himself and stood up, careful to keep a defensive hold on the hysterical, and very warm child

"Shh, shh," he shushed quietly, falling to a slow rock-bounce he'd seen Alex perform before, one hand gently rubbing across Spencer's bony back. "It's okay, bud. I know.”

There was a moment in which no one moved or made a sound but James and Spencer. JJ had long since turned off her movie, and the fear of agitating Spencer’s meltdown was far too high for anyone to intervene. Alex, who was visibly upset as she watched her baby sob into someone else’s arms, moved to step in, but Hotch’s arm came up across her chest, his head shaking just slightly in order to dissuade her.

“You’re okay,” James was saying quietly, his voice barely audible under Spencer’s shuddering sobs.

He shifted his arms tighter around the child, glancing over to where Alex and Hotch were positioned. Hotch took a step closer.

“Do you want me to-” he started, but James shook his head, giving a weak smile.

“No, no it’s alright. We’re just going to go calm down.”

There was a beat in which he raised an eyebrow, clearly asking a kind of permission of Spencer’s surrogate parents. They both nodded quickly, watching with surprised expressions as James took even steps out of the lounge, Spencer wrapped around him tightly.

The silence continued for almost a minute before Derek said bluntly, “What the fuck was that?”

“I have no idea,” Penelope said, eyes still locked on the door.

“I do,” Emily said, flopping back on the couch and reaching for the popcorn bowl. “Spencer got his meltdown, and I’m Fine just became my favorite game. Give it, Jayje.”

-----

James walked Spencer up and down the hallway for a while, letting him cry and wail himself hoarse while James held him close to his chest. He’d known Spencer hadn’t felt well for a few days, but Emily was right in saying that Spencer was sick all the time. He easily had the worst immune system of anyone James knew. If he’d known the meltdown coming was going to be this catastrophic, he might have made an attempt to intervene sooner.

A few doors in the hallway opened, confused or annoyed faces glancing at James as Spencer cried on. They shut as soon as James set a laser-like glare on them, daring them to say something to either him, or his tiny charge.

“Okay, Spence, okay,” he said gently as soon as the crying lost its angry quality, only left sounding sick and sad and desperate. “Shh, okay kiddo. You’re okay.”

It took a moment for the cries to quiet, not dying entirely, but no longer rupturing his eardrums.

“There you go,” James cooed softly, hand still rubbing along Spencer’s back. He felt the shuttering turn back into trembling as his breathing evened back out. “Good, good job. Good job, Spence. Let’s get you in bed, okay?”

Spencer sluggishly nodded against James’s collarbone, the death grip around his neck slackening. James walked them down to Hotch’s room, knowing that the RA had his own bathroom. Spencer ended up in there a lot of nights anyway, he figured, so Hotch wouldn’t be mad. Hotch couldn’t be mad at Spencer if he tried.

James only let go of Spencer once he set him down on Hotch’s bathroom counter, flicking on the light and taking a small step back to take in the boy in front of him.

There were tear tracks still running down Spencer’s face, which was a color between stark white and pale gray, save for the deepening flush across his cheeks, ears, and crawling down his neck. His eyes were swollen and red from the tears that still fell, even though they had slowed. He was shaking as chills overwhelmed his tiny frame, causing him to gasp quietly every so often.

James frowned with empathy. He hadn’t been that sick since the flu season before, but it was a hard feeling to forget. Plus, he didn’t know if he’d seen Spencer look that awful in a while, either, and the shaking child in front of him was breaking his heart.

“Okay,” he said gently, “what do you say we get you out of your uniform and into… I can go get your pajamas, or, uh,” he thought for a moment, glancing out the door of the small bathroom and into the bedroom, still dark as he hadn’t thought to turn on the light. “I can find you one of Hotch’s shirts?”

Spencer’s hands palmed his eyes and he shook his head slowly.

“D’n le’ve,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper, eyes half-lidded.

“Okay, then we’ll do that. Here, stop rubbing at your eyes. Let’s…”

He trailed off, never having been in Hotch’s bathroom, and not knowing what he was going to have to work with. He didn’t think about if Hotch would be upset with him rifling through the tiny medicine cabinet, or taking the washcloth on the counter to wet under the tap.

“Come here, kiddo,” he said gently, pulling Spencer towards him a bit as he gently wiped off the boy’s face, cleaning the tear tracks and hoping to do something immediate for the fever he felt climbing steadily just by being in close proximity again.

In time he got Spencer out of his uniform, into one of Hotch’s large cotton tee shirts, and nestled under the covers of the RA’s dark bedroom. James sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing a palm against Spencer’s forehead.

“So, can we talk about it?” He finally asked. Spencer curled into himself, pressed against James’s side.

“Do we ‘ave to?” he rasped, looking up with glassy eyes.

James nodded a bit, giving Spencer a gentle look. “Yeah, we do. I won, remember?”

Spencer cast his eyes down at the blankets, one hand twisting weakly at the fabric. He sighed before he said weakly, “I d’n feel good.”

James let out one small chuckle. “Yeah, I can see that. Can you be more specific for me?”

He squirmed. “D’n feel good at all .” Little hands twisted in fabric, big tears creating dark spots on the already dark pillowcase. “Since We’sday, I guess.”

James opened his mouth to prod again, but Spencer kept going, voice going in and out and squeaks and rasps in a way that would have been comical if it didn’t sound painful.

“M’ head ‘urts. ‘N my throat ‘n my stomach.”

“Sinuses?” James offered. Spencer was perpetually sniffling.

“No. S’a habit.”

“I know, just checking.”

“I…” he sighed, a sharp tremor shooting through his body and cutting him off in a whimper. “I feel… wrong. ”

James nodded, running his hand gently through Spencer’s short curls. It was the moments that Spencer let himself be vulnerable that James remembered just how young he was. Just how little, and fragile. How much help he really needed.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” He adjusted the washcloth that he’d laid on Spencer’s forehead, not missing the way Spencer leaned into the touch. He took the moment of vulnerability while he had it. “Can we make a deal?”

Spencer’s eyes had flitted closed, but he nodded gently.

“Mhm.”

“I don’t really care if you tell Alex and Hotch when you don’t feel good. Really. I know how they can be, I get it. But I want you to tell me, okay? Maybe if it comes from me, it’ll soften the blow from them, huh?”

For a second, James thought Spencer had fallen asleep. He thought about getting out his phone and calling Alex. She was no doubt pacing the floor until she could gather Spencer in her arms. He reached for his pocket, but found his wrist being grabbed by weak, spindly fingers.

“‘Kay.” Spencer mumbled quietly, shifting so that he was closer to James, nearly in his lap. “Can… not yet.”

James read between the lines, moving his hand from his pocket and shifting back so that Spencer could lay between his legs, his tiny body curled in on itself, head resting just below James’s heart.

It was at least an hour later when the door cracked open, two figures stood in the doorway: one tall and lanky, the other small and dainty.

Hotch and Alex.

Spencer was sleeping, body twitching and shivering ever so slightly as the fever worked its way through his system. James had been counting breaths, wondering when he should find a thermometer or call someone or shift from under the kid. He just hadn’t been able to bring himself to move him at all, even when one of his legs had been asleep at least twenty minutes.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Alex moved quickly, perched on the edge of the bed in a moment.

“Hey.” She matched his level, eyes wide and worried as she looked at her sleeping boy. “I, um. Can I… I have Blankie.” She held up the blanket that was normally life or death. “I’m surprised he’s sleeping without it.”

“So was I, but you should have heard him in the hallway. Basically screamed himself to exhaustion.”

She shifted, looking down at her lap.

“Trust me,” she said, “I did.”

“Cry?” He asked, knowing her far too well.

“Course I did. Can I have him?”

James nodded quickly, the two of them moving in perfect sync to get Spencer off of James and into the arms of Alex. Spencer seemed to relax further in the arms of his assumed mother, then further still when James draped Blankie over the top of him.

With Alex wrapped in her own world, a hand gently trailing through Spencer’s hair, eyes locked on his small frame, James found himself taking a step away. Letting them have their space.

He turned to look at Hotch, who looked stressed in his own right.

“Sorry I invaded your space,” James said quietly to the other boy, “I just thought, well, this is where he comes at night when something isn’t right.”

“No,” Hotch said, “I’m glad you did. I’ll keep him here tonight so I can watch him. He looks rough.”

“Yeah. I um, I found that washcloth in your bathroom, but I had no idea where anything else might be.”

Hotch shrugged.

“Thermometer’s in the bedside table. We use it enough, you know, so I keep it close…” He tilted his head slightly while peering over at Spencer, a confused look passing over his face. “Is that my shirt?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Hotch said quietly. His eyes didn’t move from Spencer. “I should be sorry. You didn’t have to do that. I… thank you for doing that. You were really good with him.”

James looked at Hotch a little closer, really seeing how tired the junior looked. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and in the dark of the bedroom, it showed.

“Hotch, really? Of course. We’re all trying to keep this kid alive. You don’t have to carry it all.”

Hotch hummed, rubbing lightly at his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… yeah right.”

James clapped him on the shoulder gently, taking a deep breath of his own. His own eyes turned to watch the way Spencer seemed peaceful now. Sick, but peaceful. He would be alright. They’d take care of him.

“You okay?” Hotch asked.

James gave a humorless chuckle, nodding and glancing at Hotch with a very small smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes looking less worried as they flicked back to Spencer. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

[teddylupines]

[ PLOT ARC 4, PROPHECY 6, THE CHAMELEON ] ❝ Oh, I’ve been waitin’ for something to change but I can’t escape this waterfall of doubt. Oh, my blood, sweat, and tears for twenty-some years, all bottled up and broken. ❞ TEDDY LUPIN looks a lot like that muggle, TOMMY MARTINEZ/MARIA GABRIELA DE FARIA, right? Only 27 years old, that HUFFLEPUFF alumnus works as a WANDMAKER and is sided with the ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. THEY identify as GENDERFLUID and is a HALFBLOOD (METAMORPHAGUS). [ JAY, HE/HIM, 24, EST ]

howdy hey i’m jay, and no i didn’t mean for that to rhyme but here we are. this is teddy! my child! my heart! they’re soft. very good. mean well. a little chaotic. a little messy. they have a lot of feelings. below the cut is info about teddy!

i definitely want to plot with everyone. i have ideas for people who are in the order and for people who are wraiths (listen........ plotting their relationship with valentina nott, the wraith teddy is impersonating......... and having teddy try to figure out how to interact with everyone? *chef’s kiss* the drama. i’m here for it) and just everyone please.

Teddy Lupin is my trash son (read: absolute darling love of my life 10/10 would die for him without hesitation they’re perfect and I disparage them with fondness)  and I’m playing them a bit differently than I usually do so I’m still learning about them, so please bear with me. I’ve played them a hundred times before but I’m still figuring out the nuances and details.

Teddy Lupin, in a mess of words: Strange and unusual. Turquoise. The smell of something faintly burning. Crooked grins. Bubblegum pink. An old piece of parchment (maybe it’s a map). Messy hair. Nails painted the muggle way, dried with a quick charm. Heart bursting. Odd splinters of wood. Righteousness. Rich yellows. Bleeding heart. A collection of records first started by the first Ted. Coming alive after dark. Ever changing. Grief-stricken. Scribbles on scraps of paper. An eyebrow piercing that made Andromeda cry. Cereal at midnight, no milk. Plinking keys on a piano. Blood doesn’t make family. Too many words to say. A former troublemaker. Dedicated.

To begin, as we all know, Edward Teddy Lupin was the only child born to Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. One was a Gryffindor, one was a Hufflepuff. Both were brave beyond compare, dedicated to their beliefs and to their friends -- at least, that’s what Teddy was always told growing up, and they had no reason to believe otherwise. They grew up with their grandmother, Andromeda, and they’d lay on the floor in her living room as she told stories of them both. They’d stare at the ceiling, their mind flitting with thought as they replayed story over and over until there was no way they could forget it forget it.

Andromeda, the only blood relative that Teddy grew up around, was not Teddy’s only family. And they thank Merlin for that every day. Teddy had the privilege of growing up around their godfather, the one and only Harry Potter. By extension, he also grew up around the Potter-Weasley family and their relatives. There was never any question that the lot of them were their family. Older than most of them, they saw most of the lot as younger siblings, friends unquestionably (of course, this included everyone but Victoire, but she’s another story entirely).

Going to Hogwarts, Teddy walked up to the sorting hat, their hair their signature turquoise, and they placed it on their own head and waited. And waited some more. The hat talked to Teddy, about their parents, about where they would do well. Much to the hat’s chagrin, Teddy had no preference whatsoever, so they served as no help. They wanted to go where they’d fit best (a strange thought, considering how prone to change they were). Finally, after what seemed like ages, the hat called Hufflepuff. Pleased, Teddy’s hair turned a rich yellow, and they walked to their table -- to their new family and home.

With a marauder as a parent, and a marauder’s son as a godparent, there was never ever doubting that Teddy was going to be a little troublesome, and perhaps, on some days, a little was an understatement. They were never malicious or filled with bad intent, they just craved fun and excitement. There were times they couldn’t get either of those things without a little rule-breaking. Teddy always saw it as this: as long as no one got hurt, there was no harm done. Whether they were right about that was and will always be up for debate. Despite their disposition for a little trouble, they were named prefect their fifth year, then headboy their seventh year. Their headboy badge was then charmed to say, “Head Ted”. It was much more fitting, if you asked them.

Post-Hogwarts, Teddy faltered. The plan had been to follow in Harry’s footsteps, to become an auror. They had the grades, their NEWTs were nearly impeccable, but when it came time to apply? They didn’t. They couldn’t. Everyone knew that Teddy had always been more of a lover than a fighter anyways. So, for the summer after finishing their schooling at Hogwarts, they did a little bit of everything. They shadowed mediwitches at St. Mungos, they worked at a few different shops in Diagon Alley (including a very brief stint at WWW -- it ended when they realized they had not one, not two, but three different puffles to take care of, and they couldn’t be confident in their own abilities to say no to bringing home a fourth).

Everything changed when Teddy noticed a brief advertisement in the Daily Prophet. It was written by none other than Garrick Ollivander and Teddy’s attention had been caught. It said they were looking for someone strange and unusual for a strange and unusual job. How could they have said no to that? They couldn’t. So, instead, they wrote to Ollivander, inquiring about the position, and soon enough -- Teddy was the elderly wandmaker’s apprentice. It was never where they imagined themself ending up, but they quickly realized they loved working with wands and with the renowned wandmaker.

 When Harry restarted the Order in 2023, there was no doubting that Teddy would be a part of it. Though their godfather wasn’t keen on them putting themself at any risk ,there was no stopping Teddy. Their mother had been a part of it, their father had been a part of it -- wouldn’t they have wanted them to do what was right? Teddy, though slightly morally ambiguous in school (rules were broken, fights were had -- they were genuinely good-spirited, but they weren’t always nice), not quite brave enough to become an auror, couldn’t deny that the Order stood for what was right. The idea of anyone disagreeing was blasphemous, and what the Death Eaters had done? What the Wraiths were stirring up again? Teddy had never been too keen on fighting, almost too soft, almost too hesitant, but they wouldn’t sit idle. They’d play the fight where they could. If that was offense, so be it. If it was intelligence, so be it. They couldn’t stand around being useless. Tonks and Remus’ child was not going to stand around, letting the world fight for what was right around them. ( Quick addition: Teddy’s Order Code Name is Kit -- their patronus is a fox!)

{ DEATH MENTION } When someone first told Teddy that Harry had been killed, they couldn’t believe it -- they didn’t want to believe. Harry was the Boy Who Lived -- he wasn’t meant to die. And yet, Harry, their godfather, the closest thing to an actual father they had, was dead. It was devastating. Suddenly, Teddy had to do more. They watched people give up their day jobs to dedicate themselves to the order, maybe they should do that, too. They just needed an opportunity, a chance to prove themself.

That chance came when Valentina Nott died. The Wraiths believed that she was missing, no proof otherwise or body found. The idea came to Teddy quickly, and they approached both Ron and Hermione with trepidation. They didn’t want to be seen as the kid that grew up around them, so they raised their chin, they spoke without a wobble in their voice. They would pretend to be Valentina, having been injured badly, too severely to immediately return. They knew that her rune was seen on her hand -- like her, they’d wear a pair of gloves. So long as they didn’t remove it, no one would know. It could be crucial to getting information, Teddy urged. Eventually, Ron and Hermione. Teddy would be given a chance to do this.

Teddy is getting used to the Wraiths, hiding their disgust in meetings and discussions. They’ve learned to talk like Valentina, they’ve learned to be Valentina. It’s hard, spending so much time away from the order, but this is what’s right, isn’t it? They’ve only ever wanted to do that.

Regarding Harry Potter returning, Teddy is conflicted. On one hand, they know how much pain Harry went through -- they were alike in so many ways, orphaned by a war started long before their birth, and Harry had dealt with so much more. To spare him reliving it would be merciful.  But to let him know nothing, to be naively blind? That seemed just as cruel.

For the prophecy, Teddy wholeheartedly thinks it means they will die. Whether as Teddy or Valentina, they’re willing to take the risk. Their parents died for what was right, Harry died for what was right. Maybe they will, too.

Quick and Dirty about for Valentina Nott, the Wraith Teddy is impersonating

25 years old, a former Slytherin

Betrothed to ??? someone. Honestly I’m a sucker for a cool plot idea & I had the idea that maybe Valentina was betrothed to another Wraith & now Teddy not only has to deal with the struggle of pretending to be Valentina and the Wraith ideology, but now this person who Valentina was supposedly in love with or was in love with her (more details to come later, I’m just a fool)

ANYWAYS. The eldest daughter to Camila and Theodore Nott. She has an older brother and another younger sibling. Theodore Nott had not gotten the dark mark before the end of the war but was close to it. He always had poor things to say about muggles and muggle borns as she grew up.

Pretty. Loves the idea of being more than someone else.

Talented with charms, begun developing her own spells when she was alive. Her rune was meant to enhance her power of spell-casting. Her rune was on the palm of her hand and was typically covered by silk gloves.

Her Wraith Code Name was Coruscatio, meaning a glittering, a flash

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Olly Olly Oxenfree (part four)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

TW: Victim blaming, mentions of drowning, another weed brownie

———————

all the outs in free

The mud sloshes loudly as Cathy and Joan trudge away from Fort Milner. They try not to look at the stew of muck beneath their feet, for they fear that they may see tints of red glistening in the slop.

Neither of them spoke as they walked across the field. Cathy was lost in thought, coming up with entire spider webs of theories in her head, while Joan was just in a state of shock. Her face was pale, aside from her eyes, which are still puffy and rimmed with red from crying. She had tried to wipe away the tears, but scrubbing her face with her sleeve only inflamed the skin further. She gave up after a while.

Dark mist rolled in the distance, near Main Street. Cathy watched the black fog. Sometimes she thought she could hear other footsteps stamping in the mud somewhere off in the distance. Other times it’s right behind her. She can’t be too sure.

She and Joan get to the fence that wrapped around the Comm Tower. When they looked at the metal chainlink, they didn’t feel safe, rather trapped.

It was there to keep them in.

“Hey! Hey!” Anne is running down from the ladder. “I saw you coming up from the tower!”

“How are you doing?” Joan asked.

“Umm- better.” Anne said. “No luck with the radio. It’s been what my therapist would call a ‘negative reinforcer.’ I’m just glad I took that second brownie.”

“What?” Cathy snapped.

“When did you take a second one?” Joan asked.

“Just before you came. Don’t worry about it!” Anne said as she climbs back up the ladder. If she sees the way Cathy is fuming, she ignores it.

“If that’s what you need- fine.” Joan said. It was clear she didn’t want anyone fighting at the moment.

The three of them climb up to the top of the tower where Kitty is waiting. The girl looks slightly better from when Joan and Cathy last saw her, but definitely still wry and jittery.

“Hey, Kit,” Joan waved halfheartedly. “Night’s still goin’, huh?”

“Yeah.” Kitty replied dryly. “I couldn’t get anything to work beside the speaker.”

“More than we could do,” Cathy said.

They all went into the tower cabin to get out of the cold. The wind was a lot crueler all the way up there, like it was adamant on knocking one of the teenagers off with its powerful gales. Joan shoved her next-to-numb hands into her jacket pocket, which didn’t help much since the coat was still wet from the rain at Fort Milner.

“Oh!” Anne suddenly said. “I got it! It’s Maggie Lee?”

“Maggie Lee?” Kitty echoes curiously.

“Yeah! She has a boat!” Anne went on. “Something good finally hatred loose from all this hysteria, eh? Anyway, my sister, Mary, used to work at the Park’s office. She had to deliver mail to that lady almost every day. I know there’s a key down there.”

“So, we’re gonna—”

“No!” Cathy barked. Kitty snaps her mouth shut with a small lurch of her shoulders. “No no no! We are not going to go with the first plan from the group’s resident burnout.” She wheeled around to glare at Anne when she said that.

Anne narrows her eyes and ruffled herself up. With her brown hair frizzing from her unruly, half-undone spacebuns and smaller stature than the dark-skinned girl, she looked about as intimidating as a raccoon trying to defend its piece of garbage it just stole from the rubbish bin. Her voice, however, was biting, like the chilled gales just outside the cabin.

“I am not a burnout!” She snapped.

“What other plan do we have, Cathy?” Joan said, trying to step in again.

“Oh, I don’t know! Fix the radio, find Catalina, set fire to the mug shop!” Cathy began to rattle off, “And those are just at the top of my head!”

“Those won’t do us any good.”

Cathy clenched her jaw and began stalking up to Anne. She easily towered over to paler girl, riling herself up like a smoking volcano about to blow or a mother owl who just had one of her chicks threatened- her talons are open and primed for blood.

“Anne,” She laughed harshly. Her voice is as cold and hard as a glacier. “don’t forget that this is entirely your fault to begin with.”

She seemed to forget about Joan taking all the blame at the cable car. Or, perhaps, she just didn’t want to throw her step-sister under the bus like that.

“Excuse me?”

“And now,” Cathy went on, overpowering Anne with her barbed tone. The gritting of her teeth quickly replaced the image of an owl with a timber wolf. “now you want us to trust you when things are really bad? YOU made Joan bring the radio- over twenty messages in all caps if I remember being told correctly. YOU brought us here!”

“Come on, guys, calm down!” Joan attempted to step in. “This is nobody’s fault! And if it is going to be someone’s fault, let it be mine. I already owned up to it! So...there! Blame is on me! Blood is on my hands!” Saying that last part made a sick feeling of fear coil deep in her stomach.

“Yeah, this isn’t very, uh,” Kitty tries to help cool things down, too. “Productive.”

But their efforts were in vain. Anne was pissed off, now. And Joan knew better than anyone that her anger was a deep, dark, long-running thing. The blonde steps back and pulled Kitty with her, as if she thought her friend may actually explode.

“It should be obvious that you’re the only weirdo here,” She said, going after Cathy with words laced in sickly green venom. “You are throwing all of this out of whack! We,” She gestures for her, Kitty, and Joan, “all grew up together!”

“Guys, please calm down.” Joan spoke up again. Her presence is finally reminded to the fuming pair, but not in the way she had wanted.

“Joan, I am not putting my life in this freak’s hands!” Cathy spat. She wasn’t going after Joan, in fact her eyes softened when she began talking to her step-sister, but her voice remained spiky and wrapped in shards of glass. “This entire night has been nothing but a joke to her! I mean, did you hear the first thing she said to us back up at that way station?” She does a terrible impressions of Anne’s voice, “‘I thought you were a werewolf’- like, what the fuck is up with that?! How are you even defending this bimbo?”

“Cathy!” Kitty yelped. Her eyes are wide in alarm and she glances nervously over at her cousin. She took another step back, this time being to one to pull Joan with her. It was as if she saw smoke wreathing out of Anne’s nostrils or something.

“I know you said Anne was ‘harmless’ or whatever, but the bitch ate two fucking weed brownies! In a crisis situation!” Cathy was working herself up to a proper temper. Her face was flaming red with rage, which was impressive given her darken skin color. “I’m done giving her passes. And you should, too.”

“I don’t need a pass from you.” Anne growled. “Joan is my best friend.”

That comment cut Joan deep in the heart. She had been mentally siding with Cathy, the girl did have a point, plus she was her new sister and she feared not going along with her would completely shatter their relationship, but Anne was right. They were best friends. They had been together since Joan was fostered by her mum and moved to the girl’s city.

God, she wished she didn’t have to be there right now. The ghosts were one thing, but this? She did not sign up for her relationships breaking into pieces right before her eyes.

“Oh yeah? Well, Joan is MY best friend!” Cathy barked back.

“Guys, please!” Joan shouted. “Stop it! Stop fighting!”

“Yes. Please.” Kitty agreed softly.

“Listen, I don’t care what Cavewoman Cathy says—”

“What is that?!”

“—there is a boat at Maggie Lee’s house. And the key is back on Main Street.” Anne went on, ignoring Cathy’s stupid, flabbergasted expression.

“And when your plan fails spectacularly, two of us are going to have to stay here with the semi-functioning walkie talkie.” Cathy said, crossing her arms.

“Well, Joan has the radio.” Anne also crossed her arms. If she was trying to make herself seem more mature or maybe was just trying to mimic and mock Cathy, neither Joan nor Kitty knew. “Are you okay to go to town?” She looks around Cathy’s hulking figure to look at her friend.

“Yeah,” Joan said. Sure, her throat sort of stung from yelling and the start of a panic attack was boiling up in her chest a welting sore, and there was also the whole being-wet-in-the-freezing-cold-night and persistent, never ending headache thing, but she chose to keep that to herself. “I’m fine. Ready whenever.”

“She shouldn’t go alone.” Kitty jumped back in. “Three of us don’t need to stay up here.”

“Right. I’ll go!” Anne volunteered quickly. “It was my brilliant idea in the first place.”

“Are you serious? Your food is going to kick in at any second and then you really will be a completely unreliable bimbo.” Cathy said.

“I am not a bimbo!” Anne snarled.

“Aaaagh! Stop it!” Joan growled. Her own anger was starting to bubble inside of her.

After her plea, Cathy rounds on her.

“Keeping in mind who has been with you this entire night—”

“Keeping in mind who you’re tired of!” Anne cut in.

“Keeping in mind who’s taller!” Cathy said louder. “Who do you want going with you?”

It was all so overwhelming. Joan wished they could all just go as a group, surely that was safer, anyway, but it was also just wishful thinking. If Cathy and Anne tried to get down from the tower together, Joan was sure somebody was gonna get pushed off.

She feels that coil in her stomach tighten and tighten and tighten. It becomes a painful sensation in her gut that she has no other choice but to-

“Cathy, let’s go.”

Cathy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“What?!” Anne cried. It was clear she hadn’t been planning for Joan to not pick her. “Why?! Why her?”

“We’re still doing your plan,” Joan said gently, hoping to cool her friend down. “Who cares about who’s on the Home and Away team?”

“But I wanna be on the Joan team.” Anne said. Her eyes looked genuinely hurt. Joan’s heart pinches painfully in her chest. “I wanna feel like— like— needed.”

The pinch gets tighter until it feels like two slim claws are trying to pull her aorta right out of her chest.

Joan tried to speak, tried to make her friend feel better, but Anne just sighed and shook her head.

“Just— just, fine, whatever. Go have fun, you two.” She said.

“It’s not supposed to be fun. That’s the point.” Cathy rolled her eyes.

“Oh god, will you just shut up?” Anne hissed.

“Okay, before things get stupid again,” Kitty said. “Good luck with the whole key thing. We’ll be waiting, guys.”

“Thanks, Kit. You’re the best.” Joan smiled at Kitty, who manages to give her one back. “But...are you gonna be okay with...the girl?”

Kitty actually laughed. “I’ll be fine. She’s just cranky.”

“I’m not cranky!” Anne grumbled from where she was very obviously sulking.

“I’ll take care of her!” Kitty assured Joan, who nodded and made her way out of the cabin with Cathy on her heels.

The trek down from the tower was silent. In fact, neither sister spoke until they were past the gate and back into the field.

“Look,” Cathy sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go that far back there.”

“Mmm.” Joan merely replied. She wasn’t ignoring Cathy per se, rather putting more attention on the darkness that lurked on the path to Main Street. She shivered.

“Okay, I’m just going to clear the air, alright? Just so Anne or whoever can’t say I was hiding it.” Cathy said. Joan glances back at her momentarily. “You may have heard that I was, uh, in jail?”

Joan says nothing. She just keeps walking. It very clearly makes Cathy uneasy.

“Well,” She went on. “I never went to jail. But I did beat up a guy and go to juvenile detention for it.”

“Why’d you, uhh...why’d you do it?” Joan asked softly. The thought that her younger sister was now scared of her sent cold vines of fear creeping up through Cathy’s insides.

“My mum got sick.” She said, “And then she got really sick and this kid threw a baseball at my head, and yes he was joking, but I just kinda-“ She sighed. “I popped.”

“We all break sometimes.” Joan said. “I understand.”

“You do?” Cathy perked up a little.

“Yeah.” Joan nodded. “Trust me, I do.”

Cathy smiled a little.

“I’m glad.”

She and Joan continue their trek until they got to Main Street. Cathy was just about to ask if Joan was religious, and if she wasn’t if she was going to reconsider after that night, when she noticed a human shadow cast across the pavement.

“Oh my god, is that—”

Someone was sitting on one of the light posts, their legs swinging back and forth.

“Catalina!”

Cathy and Joan rush up to the light, their eyes wide.

“She’s alive!” Joan said. “Man, I’ve never been so happy to see you in my l-”

Static.

Joan let out a short cry of pain as static filled her mind and vision seemed to glitch out like an old TV. When she looks up, Catalina’s eyes are glowing red.

“Oh no,” Cathy muttered, stepping back. “She’s doing- she’s doing the eye thing!”

“Come on, Catalina, snap out of it! Look alive!” Joan tried. “Umm...hang in there, baby?”

“Good try.” Cathy pat her shoulder.

Joan grit her teeth. She could feel the cold metal of the radio weigh heavily in her pocket. She has no choice but to slip it out and tune in.

102.3

The first triangle forms.

95.1

The second-

“NO!!”

Joan is falling, everything is upside down and she can’t see at all, but then she’s upright again and tottering in her spot like a newborn lamb. She winces.

“You think you can control me?” Catalina asked, tilting her head slowly. Her voice is like it had been back at Fort Milner, distorted and dark.

Cathy and Joan exchange nervous looks.

“What? No! We’re not trying—“

“No, you’re not trying!” Not-Catalina said. “You’re not trying at all!”

“¥ðµ håvêñ’† ¢håñgêÐ,” Said The Sunken. Their voices appear out of nowhere, origination from an unknown source. “ñð† å ßï†. ßµ† ¥ðµ’rê å £ïñê gïrl.”

“What— what more can we do?” Joan said desperately. “We’re barely holding onto our—“

“‘What more can you do?’” Not-Catalina echoed mockingly. “You can do your job, that’s for starters. You can be what you signed up for.”

“𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗,” Crackles the radio. “𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟.”

It just had to go and pipe in, didn’t it? What with Catalina- or Not-Catalina, Whatever the fuck she may be now, and those ghosts talking and all, the radio now chipping in only added to the intensity, and the terrible pressure pressing down on Joan’s skull.

“No more heart than a...” Not-Catalina’s voice trailed off and died. Her body fell like a rag doll from the lamppost.

“Is she-?” Joan swallowed thickly. “Is she, um, alive?”

“I-I don’t-”

Not-Catalina, or Catalina, now, stirs, then sat up. She blinked her normal brown eyes at the duo standing above her.

“Are you okay?” Cathy asked. “Can you remember anything that just happened?”

“I’m fine. I can— I’m fine.” Catalina stood up, brushing away the hands reaching down to her for help. “And I... I remember Fort Milner...and you two.”

“That’s it?”

“Well... I also remember that radio.” Catalina turns on Joan. “And I remember this being all your fault.”

-.-. --- ..- .-. .- --. . / .. ... / -. --- - / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / - .... . / .-- .- -.-- --..-- / -.. . .- .-. .-.-.-

The bonfire in front of the Main Street tunnel blazes slightly when Anne throws a few sticks into the flames. They get eaten away in seconds before Joan’s eyes, which are edged with a black blur. She blinked, smoke stinging them slightly, and looked up at the others.

“Wait, it’s Catalina’s turn already?” Anne asked.

“Yes, it’s my turn.” Catalina said. “I’ve been waiting this whole time!”

“Hold on-“ Joan looked around. The ocean licking against the rocky edge to the street is but a black void behind her. She snaps her head forward again, preferring to look into the foggy abyss that was the closed down tunnel behind Catalina. “What’s going on again?”

“It’s Catalina’s turn.” Kitty said.

“Yeah, it’s Catalina’s turn.” Cathy nodded.

“And you of all people should know what I’m not going at ask because I’m not going to waste it.” Catalina turned to Joan. “Joan. What did you do.”

Joan’s mouth hangs open like a fish out of water. Catalina’s judgmental stare does not pity her stunned expression.

“Tell me why my best friend, and your idiot best friend, and your new step-sister are all screwed.”

“This isn’t her fault.” Cathy stepped in quickly, already knowing things were going to get riled up.

“Cathy, I’m sorry, but you don’t know who you speak of, dear.” Catalina said.

“Catalina, seriously, I can vouch for this,” Anne said. “This isn’t her fault.”

“It has to be her fault, of course it’s her fault.”

Joan clenched her fists. The numbness in her fingers dissipates for a moment. Bubbling anger feels hot in her belly.

“Why?” Joan snapped. “Why does it have to be my fault?”

“Why does it have to be your fault? Are you serious?”

Joan clenches her jaw, glaring daggers at Catalina.

“You’re gonna learn, Cathy, I swear to god. The whole town looks at her like she’s got a fucking Scarlet Letter tattooed on her forehead, and the giant, lit up, Christmas tree reason why is that Maria is dead because of her!”

A near subzero sensation spreads through Joan’s entire body, and not because of the temperature outside. Then, the chill is overcome by molten lava-like fury that bubbles up like pus from an abscess.

“It would take a really sick person to see it that way, and I would love to hear your explanation!”

“Maria was going to be free! She was going to be out of here until this one convinced her to go swimming one last time.” Catalina stopped her pacing. Her eyes are cold and hard. “And she drowned. Maria drowned, while this one could barely flap her arms.”

All eyes turned to stare.

“That doesn’t make it my fault!” Joan cried. “Anyone could have been there— anyone— and then they would’ve watched her die, you unbelievable cunt!”

“‘Anyone’ wouldn’t have watched her die, Joan. Anyone else would have done something!” Catalina snapped back.

“Okay, enough!” Cathy steps in between the two. “Seriously. I can’t even believe we’re talking about this right now.”

“Cathy,” Joan scampered up to Cathy like a lost lamb would to its mother. She grips tightly to her step-sister’s sleeve. “Cathy, it was awful- it’s still awful... I-”

Cathy set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know. It’s okay, I know. But right now we’re going to break into that office, find that key, an we’re going to go home.”

“No.” Catalina said.

Cathy snapped her head around to the older girl. Her teeth are gritted. She’s clearly had enough.

“No?” She echoed, anger lacing her voice. “What do you mean, no?”

“Aagh!!” Pain lances through Joan’s head. Then Cathy’s head. Then Anne and Kitty’s. Catalina began to float into the air.

“All the outs in free.....”

What happens next is nothing short of a whirlwind. Cathy and Joan get jarred out of the time loop and, like the many times before, Cathy only has vague memory of being in it. However, by the pale, shaken expression on her step-sister’s face, she knew it couldn’t have been good.

When she asks, Joan says she doesn’t want to talk about it.

They break into the park building and find the key in the form of another pocket radio, this one with more stations.

It does not feel right in her hands.

As they’re walking back to meet up with the others, Cathy reads off a letter written by Maggie Lee, which talks about how the history of Edward’s Island was a lie and how she buried these secrets all over the area. The letter ends and, after the sister discussing the news, Cathy began to say something else as they passed the path that led down to the beach.

“Joey, why are you wearing that jacket? It’s, like, seventy-five degrees and the sun’s out!”

“What? It’s cold—”

Soft, fuzziness floods her mind. Her vision distorts, but her body doesn’t seem to react. Her muscles are calm...relaxed. She’s at peace for the first time that night.

“—and the sun is only kinda out.”

“No, see! Look! Sunlight!”

A voice ahead laughs. “Maria, we didn’t bring drinks.”

Joan was giggling, too, but then the noise catches painfully in her throat.

“Wait— Maria?!”

Her older sister grins at her. Her curly hair is done back in a rare ponytail- she usually prefers to have it down and frame her face in a way that makes her look like a lion. The smile painted on her pink lips would make even the sun jealous of its perfect glow.

“The one and only!” She chirped. At her side, Catalina chuckles lovingly.

“Where- where’s Cathy?!” Joan looked around frantically. That panic attack from before starts to rise up again, desperate to overcome her.

“Cathy? Who’s Cathy?” Catalina asked curiously. Her voice is so sweet when she talks to Joan, not laced with hidden poison or barbed with vision sarcasm, but genuinely loving towards the younger girl. “Is someone else coming?”

“Yeah, is that a friend of yours?” Maria added.

“You wanna know who Cathy is?” Joan grits. She’s tired of losing her every single hour. “She’s my new step-sister.”

She sees Catalina and Maria’s eyes widen.

“Now do you know what’s happening?”

She thinks they get it, but then Catalina and Maria began to laugh. They continued their trek down to the beach and Joan’s legs follow them without her command.

“Okay, can you call your new friend your ‘best friend’ or something?” Maria asked, giggling. “‘Step-sister’ is kinda approaching into my territory.”

“Yeah, it’s like when my mum calls her cat her ‘special little lady.’ I mean, I’m standing right there!” Catalina put in. She looked so happy...and not evil.

“Wh— why— why am I here?” Joan squeaked. She’s getting weak in the knees. She thinks she was going to be sick.

“You said you wanted to go to the beach.” Maria said.

“Good choice, too,” Catalina said. “Today turned out to be a flawless day.”

The nausea seems to melt away as they got down to the beach and stepped onto the sand. When Joan looked at the ocean, she felt no fear, no anxiety, no trauma-induced pain. Just...serenity and curiosity for the sparkling blue body of water.

Her mind feels like it was melting, but the sensation sends a ripple of peace through her body, almost like morphine. She calms by degrees in a matter of seconds. To be honest, she can barely remember what she had been freaking out about moments earlier... Even when Maria proclaims she forget her phone on the ferry and Joan and Catalina left alone on the beach when she ran up to go get it, she felt no nervousness.

She sat down across from Catalina.

“I’m glad we could do this today.” The older girl said. “I know you two are close and all I know it can be annoying to have the girlfriend around, but...”

Joan smiled slightly. “Yeah, I- I would love to. Really.”

Catalina beams. “I’m glad! And, hey, Mars loves you a lot. I mean, I’m sure you already know that, but seriously. She talks about you all the time.”

Joan giggled, blushing slightly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Had to fight the skipper for it, but he didn’t expect many squats I could do,” Maria said as she walked back over.

All three girls laughed.

Catalina excuses herself after Maria got settled to go but some drinks up at the shop, leaving Maria and Joan alone.

“I’ve missed you,” Joan whispered. “I-I know we live in the same house and everything, but- I missed you, Mars.”

“Aww,” Maria cooed. “I missed you, too, JoJo. Also, hey, I know this was supposed to be our day, but I completely forget that I promised Catalina that I would do something with her. Thanks for chaperoning.”

“No problem.” Joan said.

“It’s really important to me that you like her, so tell me the truth. What do you really think of us being together?”

Joan didn’t even have to process the question.

“Stick with it. Stay with her.” She said. “If she makes you laugh, if she makes you smile...who am I to think otherwise?”

Maria lit up brightly. “Thank you! Good blessings and good tidings!” She and Joan laugh. “Hey, I’ve never noticed that that’s a good jacket. I should ask for it back. My new one sucks. Feels like I got...shoes on my arms or something.”

Joan pulled the soft grey jacket closer around her. “No way, bucko!”

“Bucko?” Maria laughed. “You haven’t called me that in years! Come here- let me at least see if it still fits.”

“Fine!” Joan groaned. “But even if it does, I’m not giving it back!”

Maria scoots over and reaches to grab the jacket when Joan takes it off. When their hands brush each other, everything cuts to static.

[unordinary-analysis]

Episode 148

Honorable mentions:

Ksjbfg

Dumbass me is wondering when Seraphina found out that Arlo ambushed John in that field because I don’t remember her finding out, but at the same time she addresses it in this episode (?)

I love that Isen’s eyes turn almost a bright red whenever he’s using his ability

I would also like to point out that because he was using his ability while spying on Cecile and John, he probably has some sort of hearing enhancement, which would make a lot of sense because of the nature of his ability.

It just occurred to me that I would absolutely love it if Cecile developed a deep crush on John. It can be unhealthy and unreasonable (hell, that would be ideal), but think of the potential. How Cecile would react differently about everything even if she doesn’t tell him. How John would react to her. How Seraphina would (this is what I’d be looking forward to most).

Does John know that Remi knows who he is?

Shit went down. Let’s talk about it.

That beginning scene:

A.k.a. Where we were left off after last week’s cliffhanger.

There’s two things I want to talk about for this. One: Seraphina’s reaction. Two: Arlo’s.

Ladies first I guess.

I’ve said this a couple of times in a handful of different posts, but Seraphina really does tend to automatically assume things have to do with her. I’m surprised that nobody’s complained about this opinion yet. She seems to be a really popular character. Actually I’m not that surprised i made a post titled “Why i’m not a big fan of Seraphina” where i just dissed her for 3 pages and none of y’all reacted.

But honestly, whenever something happens, Seraphina’s mind somehow tells her that it has something to do with her. I believe a month or two ago, there was an episode review where I said that I believed she’d finally moved on from that due to her loss of abilities. lit

Unfortunately, her self-involved tunnel vision, or whatever it is I’m trying to say, has made a comeback. When Arlo tells Seraphina about John, her first thought is that he’s still obsessed with her friendship with John. She doesn’t even consider that maybe what Arlo’s saying actually has some truth or even has to do with John. Even knowing that something happened between Arlo and John. I’m sorry to say that this is also one of the main reasons why I will never consider Seraphina to be one of my favorite characters.

This point in general isn’t all that important, I just like to analyze characters and their thought process lmao sorry I’m extra.

Something else about Seraphina (positive this time don’t worry) is her automatic loyalty to John. I’ve talked about John’s loyalty towards her loads of times before, but don’t believe I’ve ever addressed Sera’s. I don’t really have much to say about this, but know that I’d like to aknowledge this thank you.

Now on to Arlo.

After Seraphina tells him to basically fuck off, Arlo shows off that character development more. He knows that he can’t continue to tell Seraphina the truth, that she’ll never believe him. Arlo realizes that he won’t have any success with her. His past actions have given him an untrustworthy reputation and he’s aware. I’m such a fan of that. Arlo’s logic always overpowers his other traits in the end. That’s what I love about Arlo.

Also: he apologized to Seraphina. She was shocked and I’m not sure if it was genuine or not, but this actually is pretty important. By apologizing to Sera, Arlo is:

Changing her opinion of him. She’s not used to him acknowledging that he is wrong or backing off. By acting more friendly and respectful towards Sera, Arlo is raising his reputation in her mind. This could help her actually believe him later if he tries to tell her something again.

Saving their friendship. Or at least creating a new one, one that’s based more off of mutual respect and happiness rather than the friendship they had before: based off of their powers alone. I would absolutely love to see a genuine Sera and Arlo friendship.

Isen:

Guys. Isen is now aware of Cecile’s involvement with Joker. That makes me really happy. He knew before that Cecile knew who John was, but not that the two were allied. I’d really enjoy him trying to find connections between the two and figure out how long they’ve been working together. I’m not sure how, but I would like him to figure out that Cecile helped him find Seraphina and that Joker k.o.ed those students at the abandoned house. I’m sure there’s something else he could piece together.

Isen’s character really revolves around the things he knows and last time he found out something big, it was really cool seeing him trying to sway other’s minds of adjust ideas because he knows more than everyone else and knows better than them. I just want that back. That’s the whole point of this ksdjhgfkehjgfn.

John and his ability:

Guess what? John’s ability isn’t actually ability mimicry lmao. It’s aura manipulation, which not only sounds more exotic, it leaves a bit more leeway for me to theorize about it. :)

But before that, can I just say. Two years ago, John was a 7.0. His ability probably hasn’t grown all that much because of how dormant it���s been, but at least recently, it has to have grown some. Like… damn.

Okay back to aura manipulation lmao.

More so than the straight forwardness of ability-mimicry, aura manipulation sounds like it has more effect on other’s abilities. Rather than copying, John is changing, evolving in a way, his target’s ability. Like in the first ambush way back in like episode 60 or something, when John used Ventus’s ability, he changed it in a way, creating blades of wind. Meili even thought during the fight, “Blades of wind!? That’s not part of Ventus’s kit!” At this time, John obviously manipulated Ventus’s ability, creating something new out of it.

Don’t get all annoyed with me because of this. This isn’t anything new I’m saying. Nothing he did changed because we suddenly knew what to call it. I get that. We already knew everything his power entailed, or at least had a good sense. So this isn’t really all that important. I just hope the rest of John’s power or at least his boundaries will come into light soon.

That’s it for this week I want to post because I’ve been behind and want to get back on schedule :)

[vapormaison]

2019 Best Japanese OST Press/Repress: Elfen Lied by Tiger Lab Records

Like many late millennials with artistic pretensions, I used to have an “Anituber” channel back in the wild west days of youtube. From 2010-2013 — roughly corresponding with my first three years in university — I reviewed DVD releases from ADV, Manga Entertainment, Central Park Media, and Geneon — all the big players in Western anime releases at the time, all dead and gone now with the rise of streaming. Everyone but Funimation — a sad irony and perhaps telling about the nature of the dubbing industry that the studio with a serial rape problem and established casting couch was the only one to survive.

In the interest of maintaining my personal ethics, posterity, and sanity I’ve long since deleted that channel. While there was definitely a “moment” on the platform for a nineteen year-old cokehead film student in front of a MacBook webcam doing his best Slavoj Zizek impression, that moment has long since passed. I’ve long since cooled on “substantive” media critique anyway. The world doesn’t need another Eisenstein-aligned Marxist analysis of Neon Genesis Evangelion — or, a 6-part series on using Lacanian techniques to develop a leftist praxis for Fate/Stay Night. Media exists in the present moment to be a salve for the postmodern hellscape we inhabit together.

As an interesting sidebar, the most popular video on that channel — raking in just north of 10k views over its lifetime from 2011-2015, was a twelve minute video essay on the 1995 anime Elfen Lied, where I asserted that it was the ultimate expression of contemporary Japanese anti-modern rage. While I don’t find myself particularly nostalgic for any of the content on that channel, I’m actually kind of proud of that one in particular.

While most of my analysis was fixated on the visuals, narrative, and recent oeuvre of its mangaka, Lynn Okamoto, and series director, Mamoru Kanbei, I did lay out a framework on why I consider it to be one of the most successful soundtracks ever produced for an anime. I did not heap this praise lightly, as that roughly fifteen year period of 1995-2010 was bookended by the OSTs of Evangelion and K-On! — and certainly proved to be one of the most sonically iconic periods that the medium has ever produced.

it was also one of the first soundtracks that spurred my own history of Japanese OST collection.

And, then, almost a decade later, I found out that Tiger Lab was releasing a vinyl of Elfen Lied.

In spite of this, when I originally the news, I felt a tinge of trepidation. This is not to throw shade at Tiger Lab, however — but at the reputation of previous releases of the Elfen Lied soundtrack in Japan. A quick adventure with google translate across the Japanese net for various Elfen Lied OST roleases — especially on CD — will reveal for you a lot of contempt from Otaku and anime-enthusiast audiophiles for any number of reasons. Most hinge on the quality of the physicals. This is often because Japanese physical media releases of anime soundtracks are often laden with fresh, exceptionally crisp and clean-sounding masters for CDs, and usually exclusive posters and other content geared toward the “collector” nature of many Otaku. This has usually not been the case with Elfen Lied.

A friend of mine in Kanagawa quipped “Sometimes it sounds better on the DVD” in regard to a number of OST releases of soundtracks from anime produced by Studio Arms with CD releases published by VAP. Admittedly, some of it must have been born in resentment, but I’ve always trusted the man’s opinion — as he’s invested a small family fortune into building a shrine of sorts to that studio’s output. He chalks up the poor release quality to the studio’s inability or lack of funds to master the content properly for a CD or HQ digital release, and VAP’s decline in release quality during the early 2000s roughly corresponding to a sale to another Zaibatsu. “Studio Arms made hentai for many years to stay solvent, maybe they could not send a good master to VAP [the publisher]” he told me. While I can’t know if it’s VAP, Arms or another studio handling the CD-master work, a cursory check of their oeuvre seems to confirm confirms that claim of his — but I acknowledge I’m wandering into uncharted waters here.

In spite of all that — I ordered the wax from Tiger Lab and was duly impressed. In lieu of reviewing each track as per my usual review format, in the following section I want to talk about my listening experience from the two formats I own the soundtrack in — the SA/VAP published CD from 2004 and Tiger Lab’s release. Once we finish going into the core differences — and why this vinyl is absolutely worth your purchase over competing physicals — I’ll go into the virtues of the listening experience on the whole.

Part 1: Comparisons of Select Tracks

I suppose the expectation is that I start off by taking about the most iconic recording from the series — the OP, Lilium. In the spirit of defying expectations, I’ll begin with what I consider a better litmus test.

My personal shit-test for a good master and press is how well it can handle a track that is sonically robust and diverse, crossing genre and form — requiring an intensive, sufficiently wide mix and refined master. You don’t get that on every OST album — but Elfen Lied offers one such potential track in particular, and that particular track happens to be my favorite composition on the entire album. Uso Sora, composed by Kayo Konishi and Yukio Kondo is a truly magnificent piece, and it’s used brilliantly in the series — for those familiar, I only need to quote one line: “M-m-mommy…?”.

It begins with lulling piano chords that gradually build in tempo and energy with the addition of percussion, and then it undergoes a full metamorphosis in its last minute or so to become an aggressive, frenetic techno piece with distorted lows and an angry drum kit. Mirroring the evolution of its subject in the show with understated aplomb, and functioning as a robust and enjoyable composition divorced from its source — it really deserve more recognition than it receives, but I do not doubt it will ever step forth from the massive shadow cast from the haunting chorals of Lilium, and the brilliantly directed visual intro that accompanied it.

Needless to say, Tiger Lab more than passed muster here, to the point where I’m almost blown away by just how good it sounds compared to the rest of my Elfen Lied related physicals. I experienced a definite brightness from the vinyl master over my stereo that I don't get from a lot of other Western label releases, like say Milano, which tends to cash in on a Westerner’s preference for warmth.  Tiger Lab deserves credit for this approach, because it genuinely feels like a more authentically “Japanese” sound. In my experience, the Western labels that care the most about the dedicated audiophile adhere to this sonic profile, and Tiger Lab deserves all due credit here.

Finally, I might as well include my thoughts on Lilium. In short, it sounds fantastic. The mix here really brings out the most of the chorals, and provides crisp and clean sounds where you want them most. It’s also one of those tracks where you can just feel the dynamic range before you even hear it. I ended up listening to these on my Cambridges, and I’ve got to say that’s there’s something in the way they treat this particular profile of song — strongly vocal dominated, extremely muted piano, and supporting string inhabiting the negative space — absolutely incredibly. It put the KEFs to shame. I’ve always asserted that you’ve got to pair certain songs with certain speaker pairs. I’ve never been a huge devotional music guy, and I’m not entirely sure that the Cambridge or KEFs provide ideal profiles for the track. That said, Lilium sounds great anyway.

But I can envision these on a pair of high end Yamahas, or a pair of vintage Blaupunkt bookshelves sounding as stone-cold killer as Lucy when Kouta’s threatened.

I sent a rip to my friend Hiroshi, the StudioArms Shrine man, who immediately snapped up a copy after listening. I also learned that it was actually the first vinyl purchase he’s ever made after two decades of serious collecting. So perhaps that is a testament in and of itself!

Part 2: Physicality

I rarely devote an entire section to talking about the vinyl/OBI itself, but then again, Tiger Lab has put out a release certainly worthy of this. First off, the cover, which pairs perfectly with the overall aesthetic of both the series and previous soundtrack releases. I can imagine this being a release that has already attracted some attention by Japanese collectors, as the cover seems to tap into a certain sense of continuity that I know are a huge hit with that community. It certainly pairs well with my two releases from VAP, and a laserdisc set that I have. They all opt for that very iconic Klimt Vienna Secession style with appropriate creative flourishes — but I like Tiger Lab’s take on it the most. The side characters populating the back in a choral array reminiscent of the Beethoven Frieze is also a really nice touch for any enthusiast of the fin-de-siècle style.

I picked up the pink vinyl on release, one of the few pink vinyls that I’ve bought that at least feels thematically consistent with the release and not just a default “vaporwave” or “city pop” or “future funk” styling. Diclonii rock the pink hair, after all. That all said, I’m wishing now that I got the “metallic gold” edition, as its another color that feels both apropos and stunningly beautiful. With all that in mind, this is also one of the better waxes that I’ve felt in-hand, and manages to feel robust. I’ve yet to find specific info, but it certainly feels like a 180g.

In conclusion, I’ve got to give immense credit to Tiger Lab for handling this release with a class and vigor that few Japanese publishers have given it. It certainly bodes well for the future of anime releases on vinyl, and makes me eager to fill out an emergent collection.

[mamabearcat]

Keys to her Heart Ch 5

Freakin’ finally! I know, it’s been forever. Please enjoy. And if you’d prefer, here’s the link to ff.net.

---

Natsu slowed down his already gentle pace again, his worries increasing. Lucy's rasping, shallow breaths behind him sounded loud in contrast to the stillness of the bush around them. They had walked along the meandering track away from the cliff face where Lucy had fallen and were beginning their climb back up and out of the canyon.

The sound of her terrified scream was still reverberating in Natsu's ears – if he were honest with himself, Lucy wasn't the only one that had been shaking after her confrontation with the ghost. He'd never heard of a ghost being able to cause physical harm before, and it had shaken him to his core. Happy was confused by it too; he had disappeared a few moments ago in a sparkle of light, having used up a lot of his limited energy in the confrontation with the ghost in the cave. He needed to get Lucy back up to the top of the canyon under their own steam; he needed to make sure she was okay.

He was second guessing his decision to let her walk. She seemed fine, apart from the darkening bruise against her breastbone, her vitals were good, but he was worrying more than he usually would. Especially seeing he was partially responsible, since it was his idea to take her down the cliff face in the first place. Not that he could have known about the ghost, having been there before and not picked up anything dangerous, but still… He stopped, turning to take a good look at her. Her face was sweaty, despite the chill in the air, her cheeks pink, and her breathing shallow.

This last part of the walking track was narrow and steep, with hundreds of rough-hewn sandstone steps stretching upwards in front of them, the edges covered in emerald green moss. This was one of the easier bushwalking paths, but the steps required a level of fitness. And if his concerns were realised, and her sternum was indeed fractured, the hard breaths she was taking right now were probably causing her a lot of pain.

He had given her ibuprofen from his small first aid kit, to help with the pain and swelling, but that and the ice pack could only do so much. His medical knowledge was limited to stabilising a patient, and only if he was first on the scene. And he was worried even more about the bruising possibly masking internal injuries. If she'd been hit hard enough to damage her sternum, that could mean heart and lung damage too. Dammit.

"Hey, Luce? We're gonna stop again for a little while, let you catch your breath."

Lucy sighed. "Natsu, we stopped ten minutes ago", she panted, still taking shallow breaths. "At this rate, we're never going to get to the top. You don't have to baby me. It's just a bruise, okay? I admit, it was a little scary, but I'm fine now. I can do this." She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees as she caught her breath, and he picked up her smothered hiss of discomfort at the change in position.

It was obviously still hurting her to breathe deeply, and his apprehension crept up another notch. "I know you can Lucy. Just humour me, okay?" He guided her over to a large stone outcrop, which served as a smooth dry place to sit. "Here, drink some water. Small sips."

Lucy scrunched up her face in protest but took the water bottle. "So, do you mother hen all the girls you jump off cliffs with like this, or am I just lucky?" she asked, before taking a small sip of water.

"Only the one's that get punched by ghosts."

Lucy snorted, spilling a small dribble of water down her chin, which she caught with the back of her hand. He grinned at her response, masking his concern. "Actually you're the first one, so maybe? Unless it's for work, I usually go abseiling with a group of guys from Fairytail, the pub Levy and I told you about."

He took her wrist in his hand as he spoke, checking her pulse. It was a little rapid, but that could have been caused by walking up the steep incline. Her skin under his fingers skin wasn't cool or clammy. "Look at me for a second Luce."

She grudgingly turned to face him, and he examined her eyes carefully, his forefinger gently directing her chin, tilting her face out of the shadows. Her dark cinnamon eyes reflected glints of sunlight that filtered down to the forest floor. Good, her pupils weren't dilated. "You feelin' dizzy at all? Weak or sick? Any tingling in your hands or feet?" She shook her head, and Natsu breathed a sigh of relief. The fact that she still wasn't exhibiting any signs of going into shock or internal bleeding made it less likely that she was suffering any major injuries.

"I think you're doing okay, but I'm still taking you to emergency to get an x-ray after we get back to the bike. Nu-uh, non-negotiable Lucy", he said seriously as she began to protest. "I'll tell you what, if you come quietly to the hospital, I'll take you to meet Cana."

"You said you were going to do that anyway!" sputtered Lucy. Natsu grinned.

"Well, now you get the bonus plan – a side trip to the hospital."

"Fine", Lucy said, rolling her eyes, frowning at him. "You're fussing unnecessarily, you know that, right?" she said irritably.

Natsu looked at her wide-eyed. "Lucy, you were punched off a fucking cliff by a ghost!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms outwards, his voice rising. "Of course I'm making a goddamned fuss. In fact I don't think I'm actually fussing enough!" He held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger almost touching. "I was this close to getting you evacuated by an air ambulance!"

He watched Lucy flinch, hunching in on herself, as if to make herself a smaller target, and he toned down his body language, dropping down to sit beside her. He'd thought her reluctance was due to her natural shyness, not wanting to draw attention to herself, but this seemed to be something more.

"I just… don't like hospitals very much", she said in a small voice, her eyes lowered to the ground. She picked at minute pieces of non-existent fluff on the sleeve of Natsu's jacket that she was still wearing.

The penny dropped for Natsu and he wanted to kick himself. Of course she didn't. After being hospitalised by her father against her will in some weird mental ward, anything that reminded her of that would be bound to freak her out.

"Lucy", Natsu said softly, "there's no need to be afraid. It's okay." He reached out for the fingers that were now twisting in the fabric of his jacket, the knuckles white. "It's only a small hospital, more of an outpatients clinic really – all the important cases go further down the mountain to the base hospital. They do have an x-ray machine though, and I have a buddy who works in radiology – hopefully she'll be able to get us in straight away if they're not busy." He bobbed his head down, trying to catch her gaze. "Luce, look at me please?"

Lucy raised her head - her eyes were wide, her bottom lip trembling. Her genuine expression of fear caught at Natsu, and a feeling of fierce protectiveness welled up inside him. He squeezed her hand gently. "I'll be there with you, okay? If you want, I'll hold your hand the whole time if it would make you more comfortable. The only time I'll have to let go is when they take the x-ray, but that's only for a few moments, and I'll be right outside the door."

Lucy bit her lip. "Okay", she sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Natsu helped pull her to her feet. "Come on Professor. It'll be fine, really."

Lucy snorted, dusting off the back of her pants with her other hand. "Again with the Professor joke. Keep saying it and it's gonna stick."

"Would you prefer Weirdo? 'Cause I could call you that too?"

Lucy wrinkled her nose in distaste. "How about my actual name Natsu!" He grinned at her.

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, best friends have nicknames!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Natsu, you've only just met me. How can I be your best friend?" she snorted, but Natsu could detect wistfulness in the timbre of her voice. How long had it been since someone had looked after her, like a close friend would? Did she have someone like that in the city? Based on her initial nervousness meeting Levy, he was guessing no.

He squeezed her hand gently as they began walking slowly up the sandstone steps. "Yeah, but I can tell already that we're gonna be best friends Luce, so why not start now?" He grasped her hand gently. "We're gonna take it easy up these steps okay? They can be slippery."

"Um, Natsu?" inquired Lucy, stepping carefully on the slick stone. "What are we going to say at the hospital? About how I got injured, I mean."

"Hmm, that's a good question. Any sort of blunt force trauma could cause something like that. I'll think of somethin', and you just go along with it, okay?"

Lucy sighed, the fingers of her free hand rubbing tentatively over the vivid bruise hidden under Natsu's jacket. "I don't like lying to people, but…"

"Don't worry, I understand." He squeezed her hand again, helping her past a particularly slippery patch of moss. "I learned pretty fast to be cautious with who I told about Happy. Sometimes tryin' to explain and convince people is not worth the hassle."

Lucy pushed down the fear that was still spiking at the thought of going anywhere near a hospital, a fear that was finally understandable now that she'd remembered her past. She'd never had any logical reason for why any sort of medical clinic filled her with panic, but now… "Yeah, I think we have enough hassles to be getting on with at the moment."

---

Their trip to the outpatient's clinic ended up being a non-event. Natsu simply said she'd been injured while abseiling, which wasn't exactly a lie. The x-ray revealed no fractures, despite the darkly purpled skin on her chest, so the doctor on duty had given her a diagnosis of having a bruised sternum. They'd given her a list of symptoms to watch out for over the next few days, and had told her to keep taking over the counter anti-inflammatory medication as needed and avoid heavy lifting.

All in all, not too scary, especially since Natsu had been as good as his word and had held her hand the entire time, apart from when they'd taken the x-ray. She couldn't remember the last time she'd held someone's hand for that long. It was comforting; his palm was warm against hers, his fingers slightly roughened and textured, from work probably. The constant contact was… nice. Nevertheless, she breathed a huge sigh of relief as soon as they stepped through the glass sliding doors and back into the hospital car park where they'd left Natsu's bike.

"All right! I'm hungry!" grinned Natsu. "How 'bout we kill two birds with one stone and get takeaway coffee and pastry and take them with us to Cana. We'll get some for her too." He handed Lucy her helmet.

"So, what does Cana do?" asked Lucy, her ingrained politeness balking at the thought of turning up at Cana's workplace suddenly, even with gifts of coffee and pastry.

"She owns a shop. Don't worry, she'll be happy to meet ya, and it won't be a problem, her customers are just as flakey as she is." Somehow, Lucy didn't find this statement comforting.

---

Natsu parked his bike alongside the colourful shopfront. The windows were a riot of colour, filled with Tibetan prayer flags, colourful shirts and skirts, folded saris and embroidered cushions. The tiny brass bells strung across the doorway tinkled merrily in the chilly breeze, and a waft of incense drifted from within. Lucy sniffed. Sandalwood maybe? She read the sign above the doorway.

"The Wheel of Fortune?"

"Cana does tarot readings", replied Natsu easily, stowing their helmets under the seat of the bike and taking the cardboard holder containing the three takeaway coffees and cinnamon pastries out of Lucy's hands. "I think it's the name of a card. I don't know much about it really."

"It's a card in the major arcana", replied Lucy, "related to the four fixed signs in the zodiac - Leo, Taurus, Scorpio and Aquarius." Her eyes closed and her voice took on a sing song quality, the tone deep and melodious.

"The Wheel of Fortune turns evermore; life encompasses times of both good and bad, and the cycle is one that we cannot control. All are subject to its whims, and none on earth can avoid what is fated. Happiness should be enjoyed to the fullest, for what comes up must always go down. But reversely, when darkness reigns, the sun will eventually shine again."

She blinked, her eyes widening, and took a step backwards, a shaking hand rubbing over her heart.

"Lucy? You okay?" asked Natsu uncertainly.

"I don't… How do I know that?" Lucy asked. The deeper timbre was gone, replaced with her usual lilting tone, now tinged with uncertainty.

"The mind is a tricky thing – it can hold a lot that we don't understand or remember, especially one like yours", said a cheerful voice behind them. "I've been waiting for you."

A tall woman with dark auburn hair and olive skin lounged in the doorway of the shop, leaning against the frame. Despite the cool weather, she wore a blue short sleeved crop top and a long multicoloured skirt, made up of many overlapping layers of fabric, her feet bare.

Natsu regarded her suspiciously. "Cana, how'd you... Happy came and told you we were comin' didn't he?"

Cana laughed. "Aw, you're no fun, ruining my mysterious vibe", she said. "At least he has more manners than you Dragneel, turning up unannounced."

"I'm so sorry", stammered Lucy, ready to apologise for their rudeness.

"Nah, don't sweat it, I'm just teasing", grinned Cana. "But by the look of you, with your aura lighting up my shop front like it's New Year's Eve, it's time for a chat." She beckoned them both inside, then shut the door, turning the little sign on the doorway from 'open' to 'closed'. "I'll put on the kettle."

Natsu held up the paper bag from the bakery and the cardboard carrier holding three takeaway cups of coffee. "I brought provisions – am I forgiven now?" Cana leaned forward and pinched his cheek, then patted it as he screwed his face up.

"Aw, you're so cute, I could never stay mad at you 'lil Natsu", she crooned, then chuckled as he stuck his tongue out at her. "Come and sit out the back where it's comfy; I think this might take a while."

---

"Wait, wait, wait, hold the phone, let's back that truck up a bit", exclaimed Cana. "This ghost actually hurt you?!" Lucy nodded.

They were sitting in a small room at the back of Cana's shop, where she did her tarot readings. The room had a cosy feel, decorated in warm reds, with lots of candles, fabric hangings and fairy lights. Cana was seated across from Lucy and Natsu in an overstuffed wing backed armchair that had seen better days, judging by the worn corduroy on the arms. Natsu sat next to Lucy on a two-seater sofa, the brown leather cracked but comfortable. The room was silent for a few moments, apart from the munching sounds of Natsu eating his second cinnamon pastry.

Cana looked troubled. "Then it wasn't a ghost. Not a regular spirit, anyways."

She turned to Natsu. "Did you notice anything Natsu?" Natsu sighed.

"Nope. Not a damned thing. Just Happy freakin' out – he was really upset, screamin' at me to get her outta there." He turned his gaze sorrowfully to Lucy. "I'm so sorry Luce. I never would'a taken you anywhere near that place if I'd sensed anything bad there. I've been there before, and there was just nothin'."

"Do you mean you see other ghosts, Natsu?" asked Lucy in surprise.

"Not exactly", smiled Natsu, shrugging his shoulders. "Sometimes I hear things, or smell things, but Happy's the only ghost I've ever really seen, and Cana said that was because he wanted me to see him. We had to try really hard too, to make the connection. I heard him long before that though."

"Natsu's what you could call a 'sensitive' I guess", said Cana, still looking worriedly at Lucy. "He can pick up on things other people miss, and as he said, it seems to be limited to smell and hearing.

"So you didn't see him Natsu?" said Lucy slowly. "The ghost in the cave?" Natsu shook his head.

"But you did huh? he asked softly, reaching out to take her hand. "What did you see Lucy?"

Lucy bit her bottom lip. "As soon as I touched the back of the cave, I saw him", said Lucy. "He wasn't clear at first. It was like looking through clear water, a haze. He looked frightened. He was yelling, waving his arms at me, but I couldn't hear him at all, just see him." She swallowed, her eyes flicking backwards and forwards between Natsu and Cana. Natsu squeezed her hand.

"It's a safe space here Lucy", said Cana gently. "I'm not here to judge anything you say. And nothing should be able to harm you in here."

Lucy nodded, then closed her eyes, concentrating on her memory of the ghost in the cave. "At first, I couldn't hear him", she repeated. "Then he stepped forward and came into focus and all of a sudden, the noise was deafening, like someone had turned the volume knob all the way up. But the sound was in my head, not outside. Just yelling. Pure rage."

"What did he look like?" prompted Cana softly. "You said you could see him."

Lucy bit her lip, concentrating. "He… he had red hair. And his eyes were golden – they glowed like the sun. And he was tall. But he looked thin and ill, like those pictures you see of victims in holocaust camps – dressed in rags, all pale skin stretched over bone. His skin glowed too."

Lucy's hands trembled as she remembered. Natsu rubbed a comforting hand on her shoulders.

"It's okay Luce. Me and Cana are right here." Lucy nodded and took a deep breath, her eyes still closed.

"When you started dragging me backwards, Natsu, he changed. He followed us, like he'd switched from being frightened to wanting to cause fear. He clapped his hands together and there was a massive wave of light, almost like a bomb had gone off, but without sound. I could hear Happy trying to talk to him, but he didn't pay him any attention at all – he was totally focused on me. I could only just hear you Natsu, when you said you were going down the cliff first, and then I tried to speak to him, to tell him that I was leaving."

She gulped. "He… he said, 'Never come here again', and he pushed me, with the heel of his hand." Lucy's fingertips touched gently on her chest over the bruise. "The light, it was so bright, it hurt my eyes. But just before I fell, I saw darkness drifting out of the cave, like smoke."

Lucy opened her eyes. Natsu's face was close to hers, his eyes concerned, but calm. He smiled at her, not one of his over the top toothy grins; it was a relaxed smile, peaceful. She couldn't help but smile back. They both turned to look questioningly at Cana.

"Beats me", she shrugged. "I've never heard of anything like that before. A lot of the time ghosts are only here because they're attached to someone and have chosen to stay. A mother might stay to look after her child for instance, or a husband his wife."

She paused, taking a sip of her coffee. "And it's not like they're physically manifesting. It's more as a spiritual guide, a thought, a nudge in the right direction, small gifts of happy memories, like a song on the radio or directing you to find something precious you'd thought was lost."

"So, Happy was once a person?" asked Lucy. Cana shook her head, taking a large bite of her pastry.

"Nu-uh", she answered, swallowing her mouthful. "Poltergeists like Happy are beings of energy – an emotion left over from a major event that's become stable enough to exist on its own. That's why poltergeists are often negative beings; they're left behind after some horrible event."

She smiled at Natsu. "Happy's the only one I've ever met that has been created because something truly good happened. He really wanted to help Natsu when he was small. I guess Happy chose to keep him company because he was lonely, and he's never left." She shrugged, swallowing the last bite of pastry and dusting the crumbs off her fingers.

"But this being you saw… I'm totally out of my depth. Have you ever seen anything like him before?"

Lucy shook her head, cradling her now lukewarm coffee cup in her hands. "Not exactly." Her memory tugged a little, but then the thought was gone, before she could catch hold of it. "I've definitely never seen anything that frightened me that much, not that I can remember anyway." Natsu rubbed her back again, knowing she was referring to having her memories blocked.

"In some ways, I'm surprised", said Cana, regarding Lucy seriously. "I've never seen anyone with an aura like yours. Never."

Lucy nodded. "That's one of the reasons we've come to see you. I need to learn how to control… whatever this is", she said, gesturing to herself.

"Hmmm. I'm a simple tarot reader Lucy", explained Cana. "I wouldn't call myself an expert on this stuff." She shrugged. "The cards are my conduit, but really, I just help people help themselves. They're the ones that ask questions, and the cards answer them by giving me a story to tell. I just help guide them. I show them signposts, offer suggestions, because sometimes it's difficult to see the way forward in the maze when you're stuck in the middle."

"Stuck in a maze sounds fairly apt at the moment", chuckled Natsu.

"Cana, could you do a reading for me?" asked Lucy hesitantly.

Cana grinned easily. "Sure. Here, shuffle these for me."

She took a deck of cards out of a purple velvet pouch sitting on the side table next to her armchair and handed them to Lucy. A small shock of static electricity zapped between them, and Lucy rubbed her fingers.

"I've never done this before. How long do I have to shuffle them?" The cards were slightly larger than regular playing cards and felt a little awkward in her hands.

Cana smiled. "There's no wrong way Lucy. Just shuffle them until it feels like you're done. And think about what you want to ask."

"What I want to ask?"

"Sure. Like I said, tarot reading is a set of signposts – the cards can help me tell you about your past and present, and how it's affecting your journey. They can help me guide you to where you need to go, if you let them, but it helps to give them a starting point. You can either keep the question in your head, or say it out loud to me, either is fine. But remember, sometimes they will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want."

"What do I want to ask?" muttered Lucy under her breath as she shuffled the cards a little clumsily. A question popped into her head. "How do I deal with all of this?" she said out loud, as she shuffled. Natsu squeezed her shoulder as she handed the cards back to Cana.

Cana dealt out ten cards, five in a cross shape, another resting across the centre card of the cross, and four off to the right side.

"Okay Lucy, seeing this is your first reading, I'll take this slow." She flipped the card in the centre underneath the one placed on top of it.

"Ten of Wands. Okay, this card is referring directly to you and your situation. See how this guy is carrying this huge bundle? And not easily either, it's a huge effort for him, his back is all bent over. You're carrying a huge weight Lucy. You're struggling to carry all that emotional baggage all by yourself. And you're not sure how to handle it. If you don't reach out to others for help, everything is going to fall." She turned over the card on top.

"Ten of Swords. Dammit, I hate this card." Lucy looked at her fearfully, and Cana smiled at her. "Don't worry kiddo. I'm just feeling for you at the moment." She sighed. "Lucy, you need to stop blaming yourself. Whatever happened in the past, and I'm feeling that it was majorly bad, was not your fault. These words that you call yourself in your head. You need to cut that shit out. It's done now, but you're still letting it affect you." She pointed at the card. "See, he's at rock bottom, been stabbed to the ground, but there's a light shining through the clouds. It's gonna be okay. You need to trust in yourself more." Cana turned over the card at the bottom of the cross.

"Five of Pentacles. Okay, this is referring to the base of your story. You had your world pulled out from under you sometime in the past. You were left alone, and life was really hard. I'm feeling that your parents were pulled away, maybe they died? Your mother died?" Lucy nodded. "I'm sorry Lucy. You felt like there was no support for you growing up. But see here?" said Cana, indicating the Church window on the card, "Support is there for you, you just have to reach out and grab it." Cana turned over the card on the left.

"Three of Swords." She took a deep breath. "Dammit Lucy, I've only just met you, but I feel like I really need to give you a hug. This is… I'm sorry."

Cana looked up just in time to see Natsu pull Lucy into a sideways embrace, rubbing her arm gently as she leaned her head on his shoulder, and she smiled approvingly, before taking a deep breath and examining the cards again carefully.

"This card refers to your past. A major betrayal. Loss, pain, tragedy, heartache. This is still affecting you. Even though this happened in the past, it's still confining you, causing you emotional distress. Am I correct?"

Cana lifted her head to watch tears roll slowly down Lucy's cheeks. "I have a feeling that it's to do with your father. That he somehow caused you pain, not through his death, but something he did." Cana reached out to a side table and grabbed a tissue and handed it to Lucy.

"Are you okay, do you need to take a break?" Lucy shook her head. "Alright, we'll keep going, but if you need me to stop, I will okay?" She moved to the top of the cross and flipped the card.

"Judgement. It looks like you're coming to a crossroads Lucy. You can continue on the path you were before, or you can embrace a change to find your true authentic self. You need to accept that all the pain that was in your past, all the scars, all the broken pieces, are the strongest parts of you, because you're still here. You're still here Lucy. If you accept your past, accept it as part of you, you'll be able to move forwards, on to better things." Cana turned the card on the right side of the cross.

"Two of Cups. Aw, that's a happy card."

"About damn time", muttered Natsu. He still had his arm around Lucy's shoulder, holding her hand in his other. Cana grinned at him.

"You said it Natsu. And that's pretty apt, considering I'm thinking that this card is you." She grinned even harder at Natsu and Lucy's questioning gaze and tapped the card on the table fondly.

"This card refers to an influence coming your way Lucy. Two of Cups is a card that represents trust, compassion and true partnership. It's not as intense as the Lover's card; it's a gentler passion that won't burn out. A balanced relationship where you're the two amigos who high five each other after every success and hug and support each other when things go south. It's the friend you've always wanted paired with the lover you didn't know you were looking for." Cana giggled at the blush that covered both their cheeks. "Gotcha pegged already, haven't I. Remember to invite me to the wedding."

"Cana!" protested Natsu. "Shut it!" Lucy squirmed in embarrassment. But she didn't let go of Natsu's hand.

Cana flipped over the card at the bottom of the vertical line of four. "Let's move things along shall we? Ace of Cups. That's you right now, Lucy, overflowing with emotions. The beginning of healing. A chance for new beginnings, new love, all that good shit. It's up to you to drink it though. The choice is yours." She flipped the card above it.

"The Star. Oh my goodness. Yes, I see it too." She smiled at Lucy. "This is how others see you right now. Everything is going to be okay. See how she's got one foot in the water and one on land? She's rebuilding herself – she has the resources to make it, both practical abilities and intuition. This is the card of amazing potential Lucy. It's okay to put that sadness down and accept friendship and hope. It's time to reach for the stars. People can see that you're gifted with a light that will fill their soul and shine gently, a generous spirit. You're gonna meet people that are drawn to you, who want to be your friend, and it's okay to accept that."

"Six of Cups. Happy childhood memories. There must have been someone who cared for you during your childhood. Someone you hope to reconnect with maybe. Someone from your past who wants to get in touch with you." Cana stroked the card softly, then looked up at Lucy. "This can also refer to embracing the joy of being a child and holding on to magical thoughts. I get the feeling that you don't cut loose much. You fear that people will think less of you if you let go of your pragmatic exterior; that you won't be taken seriously any longer. But you need to remember that there's strength in joy Lucy. You need to let a little silliness in your life. But you've already made friends with this fool sitting next to you, so I think you got that covered."

"Hey!" protested Natsu, and Lucy giggled.

"Last card. Death." She put up her hand at Lucy's intake of breath. "Death doesn't mean death, it means change! So breathe! It's okay!" She grinned at Lucy. "I really should make a poster and put that up in here; people always freak out when they see this card."

She tapped the card in question. "In this position, Death is referring to the final result of your question. Looks like change is inevitable kiddo. You've been stagnating, and the universe has decided that it's had enough. You don't get a say in this. You've got to release everything old, strip down to the bone and start again, and that can be really painful, I know. He's walking slowly, so if you prepare yourself, this change won't hurt as much as it could."

Cana looked at Lucy, who seemed a little at a loss. "Do you have any more questions? Is there anything I can explain more clearly to you?" Lucy nodded slowly.

"I'm supposed to leave the past behind, and embrace the future, is that right?"

Cana nodded. "Yup. Pretty much everything is pointing in that direction."

"I don't know how to do that", said Lucy, her voice shaking with emotion. "Until yesterday I'd forgotten everything, it was buried in my subconscious. Meeting Happy brought it all back. I'd forgotten my mother was a medium, forgotten my father sent me away, punished me for being who I was. How do I forgive that? How do I move forward?"

"I'm not saying you need to do it immediately", said Cana. "The cards are suggesting that you need to reach out to others. There are so many hints there that say you're gonna have people reaching out to you. With support, everything is easier. Isn't that right Natsu?"

"Definitely", said Natsu. "You've already got friends. There's me an' Levy, an' Grandeeney."

"And me", grinned Cana. "See, you're taking the cards' advice already."

"I've never learned how to be someone's friend", said Lucy softly. "I lost Aquarius. And I've never really let anyone close since."

"Maybe she's the person from the past you're meant to find again Lucy", suggested Cana.

"She's not a person", said Lucy. Cana's eyes widened.

"Wait, wait. You said your mother was a medium. Are you saying that Aquarius is a spirit? Who exactly was your mother Lucy?"

Lucy sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Some parts of my memory are still a little hazy, especially regarding my mother. She was a medium called Layla Heartfilia, but that's…"

"You're Layla's daughter?" exploded Cana. "Layla Heartfilia had a daughter? Goddamit Lucy, it's like I'm meeting fucking royalty! She was really your mother?"

"Yes?" said Lucy hesitantly. She looked at Natsu, who shrugged, as baffled as she was.

Cana shook her head. "You don't understand. There's mediums advertised everywhere. You see them on tv, in magazines, in books, but most of them are charlatans, con artists, trading in people's grief", she said scornfully. "True mediums, who have real contact with the celestial spirit world are rare. Layla Heartfilia was one of the best." She gazed at Lucy in awe. "No wonder your aura is so bright."

"Do you think you could help me contact Aquarius again Cana?" asked Lucy hopefully. "You helped Natsu with Happy?"

Cana chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Have you ever tried meditating before?" Lucy shook her head. "Or scrying? That might work. Wait here."

She returned a moment later with a shallow black lacquered bowl and placed a hunk of pink crystal in the middle, then filled the bowl with water from a jug on the side table next to her.

"Scrying can help us to get in touch with our unconscious minds. I often use it when I'm struggling to find direction; it's a form of self-hypnosis really. If we try and shut down your conscious thoughts for a little while, you might be able to break the block that your mind has put up. It's already opened a little, I mean at the moment, you're lit up like a Christmas tree."

Lucy looked at her nervously. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Don't worry I'll guide you. And Natsu, I need you to be still and quiet okay? It's hard to concentrate when someone's wriggling like a hyper puppy next to you." Natsu went to move away, but Lucy grasped his hand.

"Please stay", Lucy said softly. "I feel safe when you're next to me." Natsu nodded, tucking his fingers around hers again, staying seated next to her.

"Okay, are you comfy?" asked Cana. Lucy nodded. Cana began speaking softly in a calm voice.

"Relax your eyes. Focus on the crystal in the centre of the bowl. Hold your intention in your mind. You want to find Aquarius. She wants to find you too. All you have to do is unlock the door. You are the key. Let your eyes soften. Relax. You're in a safe place. Natsu is beside you. Nothing can happen to you. Breathe deeply. Let images cross your mind. You've nothing to fear. You're searching for your friend. You want to find her. You miss her. Allow the thought of her to rise up in your chest."

"Aquarius…" said Lucy softly.

A yell like an aggrieved banshee filled the room and they all jumped.

"About time missy. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? I've got better things to do with my time than to hang around waiting for you to finally unlock doors! Little brat!"

"Aquarius, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to forget", sobbed Lucy, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Stop with the tears. I know it wasn't your fault." The voice softened and a blue light filled the room, along with a powerful smell of the ocean. "And I'm sorry I couldn't stop Leo earlier today. Call me when you need me Lucy".

"Aquarius, wait!" called Lucy. But she was gone.

---

Such a long delay on this chapter! Truth be told, my story changed from my original draft in the last chapter, and I needed to do some alterations to my original plot. And there was so much chatting in this chapter, so wordy - I hope it's not too boring. Also, even though I do have some knowledge of tarot cards, I only use them to do readings for myself. They help me think and focus when I get stuck. Cana is doing a reading called a celtic cross - a very traditional tarot spread. These are my interpretations of the cards - they will probably differ from other peoples and that's okay. There are lots of people out there with way more knowledge than me. And at the end of the day, this is a fictional reading for a fanfic. Please let me know what you thought. And thanks for sticking with me after such a long wait. I know 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', but that's not necessarily true when you're waiting for the next chapter in a story! Cheers!

[deejadabbles]

Not Quite Unrequited Yami x Reader Chapter 6

Six: Love Requited

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven

Summary: Yami would do whatever it took to keep his friendship with you intact, even if it meant putting on a smile and pushing his love for you aside. You knew Yugi loved Anzu, but getting over your feelings for him was hard, especially when time made feelings for another best friend arise.

AU where Duel Monsters is just a (vastly popular) card game and Yami and Yugi are twins. This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A.N: If you don't think Yami would wear eyeliner in a modern AU then yOU ARE- totally entitled to your opinion but I will have to respectfully disagree. You'll see why I mentioned guyliner at all once you read this chapter, enjoy~

Change was hard. Graduation had come and gone for you and your close-knit friends, now everyone was in a state of transition as you all started new chapters of life. You wouldn’t deny you felt a little saddened by it all. Though all of you promised to stay in touch, change was hard. Anzu would be leaving for New York soon and Jonouchi was going to be entering any and every Duel Monsters tournament he could in order to build up his reputation as fast as possible. Many of you were staying in the city, but work, dreams, relationships could all eat up so much of one’s life, it worried you, just a little. So you vowed to grab and hold every opportunity you had with your friends before that shift in life truly started to take effect.

You were thankful for today for example. Yami and Yugi’s birthday was just around the corner and the older brother had asked you out for the day so you two could shop around for gifts. Yami had bought his brother’s present a while ago, but discovered that Jonouchi had gotten him the same thing! Yami being Yami, he had offered to let Jou give him the present and he would find something else for Yugi. So here you two were, spending the day walking from store to store, noting good ideas for Yami to choose from.

“I swear I’m going to ask how much it is.”

“It’s not like I could afford him even if he was for sale.”

You let out a little snort at his choice of wording before countering “We could always hoist it over our shoulders and carry it out when the manager’s back is turned.”

He knew you were joking, but he still shifted his gaze from the life-sized statue of the Dark Magician to give you an almost scolding look. One of the many stores that sold Duel Monsters cards and supplies had a very impressive display piece and you had joked that Yugi would love to have such a unique collectible of his favorite duel monster. Yami agreed, but also knew it was not within his means to acquire.

“How about I find him a statue I could at least carry by myself instead” Yami settled with a wry smile.

He walked over to the shelves that held some collectibles of interest, you following close behind. “I think I saw an ad for this cool looking diorama of Dark Magician and Dark Magician Girl in battle poses. Maybe we could hunt down something like that?”

“That would be a good one. I’m also still considering that elite duelist kit we saw, if I decide to stick with something DM themed.”

As you looked on the shelves for anything noteworthy, your phone began to ring. When you answered a now somewhat familiar voice answered with a cheerful “Your commissions are ready for pick up!”

You threw a cautious look over at Yami, who was busy reading the back of a boxed figurine. You answered only after taking a step away from him to diminish his chance of overhearing the man on the phone. “That’s great! I can’t wait to see them.”

“Well if you’re free any time today, I highly recommend you come pick them up. I’ll be here at my studio all day so you can just swing by whenever.”

That caused you to bite your lip, the artist’s apartment was only a few blocks away from where you were shopping now. And it would be nice to show Yami the piece you had commissioned for Yugi right away, but there was a problem…

“Well, I’m actually with one of the two birthday boys I told you about, but I’d really like to come pick them up now. Do you have anything that could hide the smaller piece from view? Not the canvas gift, the other one.”

“Oh yeah, I got something, got some card boxes I can put ‘the other set’ in so he won’t see them. But you should still have him wait outside when you come to get them, that way you can look both pieces over before you take off.”

“Okay, that’ll work. I’ll be over shortly, thanks again!” after hanging up the phone you saw that Yami was looking over at you with curiosity. “The artist is finally done with Yugi’s present!” you informed.

“That’s great, I’d love to see it before you take it home and wrap it,” he said, genuine interest on his face.

“I want you to see it too. He lives right down the street so I thought we could swing by now, buuuut, I’m gonna have to ask you wait outside at first,” when he narrowed his eyes in a silent question, you sighed, not having a way around it. “See, I also got the artist to work on your present, and of course I don’t want you to see it when he shows it to me. So just wait outside for a minute, I’ll come out with your present all covered and hidden, then I can show you what I got Yugi!”

He thought on that for just a moment, an almost child-like curiosity hinting in his eyes at the mention of his present. Then he nodded “Of course I’ll wait outside, we wouldn’t want the surprise to be ruined after all,” he ended the assurance with a little wink and you had to ignore the way your heart seemed to jump in answer.

After a thorough look around the shop and finding nothing that struck Yami as worthy, the two of you headed out and down the street with you leading the way. As he had promised Yami waited outside when you arrived, leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs acting as a front entrance. There were only three apartments, the building being one of the units resting atop a ground level storefront. When you knocked on the door marked 3 a very cheerful young man answered.

“Come in come in! I can’t wait to see how you like them, I absolutely loved this project!”

You had found this artist via his blog online and had been impressed with his Duel Monsters inspired pieces, then when you saw that he was always eager for commissions an idea had struck. You spent a few afternoons here, hashing out the details of what you wanted and were very confident they were going to be amazing.

He walked over to his drawing desk and picked up a canvas piece, turning it towards you with pride “Present number one!”

This one was for Yugi. A collage of sorts featuring his favorite characters from the game, Kuriboh, Celtic Guardian and Dark Magician being among them. “It looks great! I love that starry background you added.”

You took it in your hands to look it over closer, more than happy with the work. He reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out five cards, handing them over to you after you had gotten your fill of the canvas piece. Yami’s present did not fail to impress either.

“Oh wow, they’re perfect! You captured everyone’s likeness so well…” You flipped through all five pages, daring to imagine how Yami would react when you gave these to him.

After heaping on a few more praises to the artist and paying him the last half of his fee you took your leave, Yami’s present sitting snugly in a white card box. As you walked down the stairs to the ground level the young man in question came into few, and you had to curse your chest for the little flutter it gave at the sight of him. He just looked so handsome, leaning against the brick building, hands in pockets as he looked up at the sky, deep in thought. Gosh, you were hopeless.

He must have heard your footfalls because he turned towards you, a curious smile on his lips. “Everything go okay?”

“Yup!” once you were standing beside him you pulled the canvas painting out of the bag with gentle care “Here it is!”

As he looked it over his expression changed just slightly, taking on an almost fond gaze. “He’s going to love it, your idea was perfect.”

“I hope so,” you muttered, the statement only half in thought to Yugi, the other half hoping Yami loved his present as well.

Stowing away the present back in the safe confines of the bag, you insisted on continuing your hunt for Yami’s gift to his brother. There were only two stores left on the mental list you two had thought up earlier, so you two headed out. Unfortunately…

“Oh no, it’s starting to rain!” you warned, feeling a few sprinkles against your skin.

“Will your painting be okay?” Yami asked with concern.

“It should be as long as we aren’t caught in the rain for too long.” As if taking your words as a challenge the rain dialed up from a one to a five, coming down in a full-on shower now.

You gave an actual gasp as you felt Yami wrap his fingers around your hand and start running for cover. You didn’t have to be dragged, following behind and actually thanking the rain for cooling off the heat his touch was causing on your skin. It was a full two minutes before you found cover that wasn’t already crowded by people. That haven came in the form of a narrow awning at the entrance to an empty store on a side street. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you caught your breath, the dash through the rain exhilarating you oddly enough. The laugh died down as you checked the contents of your bag, relieved to find everything was safe.

As you shoved the dry box containing Yami’s gift back to the depths of the sack you felt someone looking over your shoulder “Hey, no peeking!” you warned, turning to face Yami “Trying to sneak a look at your present hm?”

“I was not,” he defended “I was only making sure everything was alright.”

You might have countered with a lighthearted teasing remark, but you were too focused on trying to contain your laughter at the sight you had turned towards. The rain had ruined Yami’s eyeliner. It was running down his cheeks in a fashion suitable for an alt rock music video about heartbreak and misery.

“What?” he questioned, seeing you bite your lip while smiling.

“Your-” a huff of laughter “the rain made your eyeliner run,” you couldn’t help the giggling that marred the sentence. Well, at least it wasn’t a full-on guffaw.

He reached a hand up to his face, blushing just a tad as he realized you were right. “Damn.”

Allowing yourself one more giggle you stepped closer to him, reaching up to his other cheek and rubbing the worst of it away with gentle strokes of your thumb. “You should borrow Anzu’s waterproof stuff,” you commented with a hum as you focused on his pink cheeks.

Rather abruptly you realized what you were doing, and felt a self-conscious wave of nerves rising. You shifted your eyes to his, looking for any sign of discomfort at your close proximity. On the contrary, you saw him gazing at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression…lost? No, contemplating, like a focused sort of daydreaming. The setting was intimate, your little awning on the less traveled street making a virtual bubble of isolation and privacy. You swallowed a lump in your throat, heart picking up pace the longer you looked into his amazing eyes. Then, he started to lean in. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but luck was not with him today.

The bubble was popped as a car let out a loud honk, driving by and running its tires through a puddle collecting at the sidewalk’s edge. The wave kicked up from the car came down on Yami’s back, causing both of you to jump.

Understandably, Yami was not happy. He let out a curse and glared at the retreating car, as if his narrowed eyes would make the tires on it explode. He was soaking wet, his hair even more a mess than before, eyeliner now faded streaks down to his neck and his clothes so drenched it looked almost painful. You scolded yourself for thinking anything even remotely funny, but you couldn’t help but to compare him to a cat who had been tossed in a bath.

Shaking your head you closed the distance between the both of you again and placed a hand on his soaked back. The touch seemed to quell his anger in a moment, and he looked over at you.

“Come on, we should get you home and into some dry clothes. We can finish our shopping tomorrow.”

“I call dibs on a corner piece!”

“No way, the corner piece is mine!”

“Hey, dummy, you do realize there’s more than one right?”

“Yeah, but calling dibs on the one you want will make it taste better.”

“Why you!”

The moment Anzu had brought out the birthday cake, Jonouchi and Honda had started in on their banter. Leaving you and Yugi exchanging exasperated eye rolls, Yami chuckling as he shook his head and Anzu looking quite miffed.

“You two do realize whose birthday it is, right?” she said in a sigh “Yugi and Yami get first call on any piece they want, so you two can settle down.”

She set the cake down on the table and it did look quite amazing. It was just the six of you tonight, the boys having celebrated their birthday with their family the day before so “you kids” (Grandpa’s words, not theirs) could have this party to yourselves. Though grandpa Motou had warned you all to save a piece of cake for him.

After Anzu cut it into perfect square portions she handed the spatula over to the boys and told them to pick their favorites first. Yugi, of course, went for a corner piece with the most icing whereas Yami got the centermost slice. As they chose, Jou and Honda continued to argue over who would get what piece while Anzu scolded them for being so childish.

You gave the smallest start when a plate was slid over to you in the midst of the chaos. On the plate was the piece you would have most definitely picked yourself and when you looked over, Yami gave you a conspiratorial wink. Taking the liberty of sneaking you ‘the best’ slice, what a thoughtful man.

Letting out the smallest of chuckles you mouthed a thank you and started in on the portion of dessert. His eyes lingered on you, that special smile lifting his lips. You found your laughter increasing as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“What?” you whispered between giggles.

He answered by averting his eyes, smile still present on his face. “Nothing.”

After cake came gifts, everyone being quite proud to present theirs to the boys. It was a good haul, each one of them being picked out with thought and care, though you expected no less from this group of friends. Because of the way everyone was sitting around the table you ended up giving your presents last. After handing the wrapped packages over you felt just a little concerned over Yami’s thoughts seeing as how the actual size comparison was staggeringly different. Still, Yami insisted on Yugi going first since he had opened Honda’s presents first a moment ago and Yugi obliged.

“Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up the moment they met the canvas “It’s amazing, did you have this made just for me?”

“Yup, I talked with the artist for a long time to get it just right, fitting all your favorites on it.”

“It’s perfect! It’ll look great in my room- then my first apartment- thank you!”  

He accentuated his words by leaning in and pulling you into a hug. You felt a swell of pride at his reaction, happy that he loved it so much. Then, apparently eager to see what you had in store for his brother, Yugi quickly insisted that Yami open his present. Your heart sped up a little as he untied the bow, tendrils of worry and doubt creeping up from the pit of your stomach.

He lifted the lid on the box and his eyes went wide as they got their first look at the cards carefully laid out inside. He picked up the one in the middle, the one of Yugi sporting purple magician robes, still wide-eyed as he examined it. Taking advantage of his stunned silence (whether it was bad or good) you began your explanation behind the set.

“Five one-of-a-kind monster cards, they aren’t official cards of course, but a set for you to keep on you when you enter tournaments. We’ve always cheered you on, but sometimes we won’t be able to be there for you in person now. This is a way for you to remember that- even if we can’t be there physically, we’re still with you.”

Everyone was quite curious and moved in closer as Yami examined the other four. Anzu as the Magician of Faith. Jonouchi as the Flame Swordsman and so on. All five of Yami’s closest supporters represented as their favorite monster cards. You had been seriously considering commissioning your own copy of the card featuring you, looking quite good dressed as your favorite.

“Wow” Anzu gasped, looking over Yami’s shoulder while Yugi occupied the other “when you told me your idea I knew it was a good one, but these are even cooler than I imagined they’d be!”

Finally, Yami spoke, starting off with a whisper of your name, “I don’t know what to say.”

His eyes locked with yours, and the look in them eased any worry you had at his reaction. A laugh, and you found yourself opening your arms in an easy gesture “You could follow Yugi’s lead and just give me a hug.”

He complied in an instant, pulling you into his arms, a gentle embrace but one full of affection. “They’re amazing, thank you.”

He ignored Honda and Jonouchi complaining that they still hadn’t gotten a good look at these special cards as he held you… a little longer than just a thankful friend would perhaps? You instantly scolded yourself for getting your hopes up, though you did allow yourself to get lost in the perfect embrace while it lasted. It ended too quickly of course, but his eyes lingered on yours as he pulled back, before he finally let you go and turned to properly show the boys your gift.

You hoped that a blush wasn’t too noticeable on your cheeks now. Though, you thought it must have been, because you felt eyes on you and when you looked up you found Yugi giving you a very knowing look.

The birthday party went on, everyone still going strong when you all decided to go get some burgers since the filling cake had worn off. There was only one other table occupied at the time and they were on the other side of the joint, which of course lead to all of you being quite boisterous, though the wait staff didn’t seem to mind.

You hoped Yami couldn’t feel your heart speed up when he slid in next to you in the booth…And when he had slung his arm over the back of the seat, practically resting it on your shoulders. He was very close, seeing as how three of you had to squeeze into the space and though your heart was doing the occasional somersault, you liked the closeness.

In fact, within all the laughter and conversation you kept feeling like you would catch Yami sliding his eyes away from you just as you looked even the slightest bit in his direction. Was he watching you from the corner of his eyes? For the second time that night you had to tell yourself not to get your hopes up. Yami wasn’t interesting in dating, you were sure of it, like many he probably just wasn’t ready for a relationship, and that was fine. It had to be. It had to be okay because what kind of friend would you be if you selfishly tried to project your own wants and desires onto him? It had to be okay, even if it made your throat constrict as you swallowed your emotions.

Eventually, the night had to come to an end when the waiter said they were closing up. You all briefly thought about going somewhere else together, but Yugi and Anzu expressed wanting to take a walk alone together before Yugi took Anzu home. Jonouchi and Honda got the hint, though they did not miss the chance to send teasing comments the couple’s way before heading home themselves.

As you and Yami bid Yugi and Anzu goodnight, you finally took notice to the fact that you were missing something. “Oh man, I think I left my bag at your house.”

“Then let’s go back and get it,” Yami replied, his tone very matter of fact even as he said, “then I can walk you home from there.”

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, I’m sure you’re probably wanting to go home and relax for the rest of the night.”

He shook his head “It’s no trouble, besides, I like the idea of spending some more time with you before we say goodnight.”

There it was again, those simple gestures paired with a smile that you were ever so slightly suspecting were specially made just for you. He smiled, of course he did, but something felt unique- special when they were aimed at you. Or at least that’s what your heart made it out to be.

As you two walked back to his house there was a comfortable silence for a while, before Yami broke it as he pulled your cards from his belt. “Thank you again for these. They were an amazingly thoughtful gift.”

You couldn’t help but take notice of the fact that the card bearing your resemblance was on top of the stack. “Of course. I know I’m going to try my best to be at all of your tournaments, like Yugi will try, but just in case we can’t make it, you’ll have those with you to remind you that we’re always in your corner” you gave a thoughtful hum “I supposed I should have gotten you some kind of slip or case so you can carry them around separate from your regular deck; them not being legal cards and all.”

“I’ll find something to keep them safe” he assured, looking down at the set, with yours still the one in view.

The rest of the way to the game shop a conversation with Yugi and Anzu from months ago was floating to the surface of your mind. ‘I mean, he’s not the type to be interested in or even flirt with just anyone, but I don’t know, with someone special I think he’d want to start dating.’ ‘Someone loyal and kind, maybe even someone he’s already friends with.’  ‘Sounds like you’re describing a very specific someone right here.’ ‘You’re amazing, you two could make a great couple!’

Was Yugi right? Could Yami actually have feelings for someone like you? Or was it just his imagination, hoping to get his brother and best friend together? After the devastation of your last heartache, you were so damn reluctant to take a gamble with your love. Besides, what would Yami think, you falling for him after having love for Yugi? He’d probably be paranoid that you only wanted him because he was Yugi’s brother. God knows you yourself had been horribly concern about that as soon as you realized you were in love with Yami. No, you knew your heart and after a long time of examining your feelings, you were completely confident that you loved him for him, nothing less. But would he believe that?

Finally, you arrived at the game shop and once inside it actually took you a few minutes to locate your bag. After double checking to make sure you actually had everything you turned to ask Yami if he was ready, but found he wasn’t there.

“Yami?” you called out, a bit concerned.

“Just a moment,” came his reply echoing from his room.

Assuming he was just getting something last minute, you wandered towards the door leading downstairs as you waited. Eventually he emerged from his room, one of his thinner jackets slung over his arm.

“It’s getting colder outside and you already looked a bit cold on the way here, I just wanted to make sure you had something to cover up with.”

He took the jacket and draped it over your shoulders, giving it a few gentle tugs to fit over you perfectly. Such a sweet, simple thought on his part. It smelled like him, the soft material giving you a reminder of how it felt to hug him, the few rare times it had happened.  Always such sweet, simple things. Offering to walk you home, giving you your preferred slice of cake, baking treats with you in mind, lending an ear whenever you needed advice. He cared so much, beneath the guarded nature he was so kind and giving. He was amazing.

And you couldn’t have him.

You hated the sudden rush of bitter emotions climbing up your throat, but this was all too much at once. God, you might even start crying over the lending of a jacket of all things! Not wanting him to see you, you hung your head. Then to your simultaneous elation and devastation, you felt his hands on your arms as he called your name in questioning concern.

“Is something wrong?”

His tone was quiet while leaning in closer to you, as if wanting to make a safe space for you within his arms. It was all too much. You found yourself turning on your heel with the intention of running down the stairs, hoping that your unexpected action would shock Yami into not following after you.

You were wrong, you didn’t even make it to the first step before he grabbed your wrist and called out to you in a something just short of a yell.

“Wait, just tell me what’s wrong- please!”

“I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself” the flow of words that had built up inside your heart began to pour out before you knew it. Your voice grew more frustrated and erratic with every word and you had pulled your wrist from his grasp if only to take a few steps away from his tempting embrace. “Twice now I’ve put my heart in losing situations- I fall in love with the most amazing men, my best friends who I would do anything for- who makes me feel happy and wanted and loved and safe! I fall for an amazing man- who I can’t have!”

You actually turned around then, feeling the urge to face him. You had come this far, might as well take that final leap. Complete shock was written on his face as he looked at you, so you went on, you took that leap and put the final nail in.

“I love you, Yami. I love you so so much, I have for months. I think I needed to get over my crush on Yugi to realize it, but I do. And I know, I know you won’t want me, that you’re probably not ready for anything like that and I’ll make myself be okay with that, because you-”

The scattered words died in your throat. Yami closed the steps between you in an instant, clasped your face in his hands, and crushed his lips against yours. You were frozen, the cogs of your mind stalling in the midst of his action. Then in a snap, you were aware of everything, of him. A kiss that poured every unspoken affection and every ignored desire into you. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as his lips moved over yours with such passion you had to grasp the front of his shirt to keep standing.

Then you found your strength again, and you were wrapping your arms around him, clasping the back of his neck as you tried to return the passion inch for inch, give as good as he gave. Needing air, he opened his mouth for a moment and let out a shaky breath before pulling you in again. This time he wrapped an arm around you and started running his hand up and down your back, slow and sensual. You didn’t bother resisting the small moan that sounded in your throat and he responded with something akin to a growl, sending a pleasant shiver through you.

Too soon, too damn soon he pulled back. Not away, thankfully, just enough to break the kiss and look into your eyes, still holding you tight in his embrace. Yami remained silent for a bit, brushing some hair from your face as his half-lidded gaze raked over your features, as though he had all the time in the world to simply look at you.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way.”

Your breath hitched at his statement and a laugh fell from your lips “I…I didn’t want to get my hopes up thinking you did.”

His eyes were so intense, alight with passion and want and…relief. Profound relief that his love was reciprocated. You were certain the sentiment was reflected in your own eyes, both of you elated at the thought that you no longer had to be torn apart by unrequited love.

Wanting to feel him, to hold him, you moved your hands to cup his face. His eyes closed at the sensation of your thumb running over his skin and he leaned into your touch, as if he wanted to drown in the feeling of your hands on him.

“I love you,” he whispered, eyes still closed as he got lost in your touch “I have for…for a long time. When you confessed your feelings about Yugi to me I tried my best to simply be a good friend and be there for you, but I couldn’t bury how I felt.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break your heart, but I promise, Yami, I love you too. I don’t even know how to tell you how much.”

He opened his eyes for the briefest of moments before leaning in and capturing your lips again. The action conveyed his message: tell me like this, kiss me and never stop, touch me and never let go. His first kiss had its intent; hastily conveying every ounce of his pent up need for you. This time the intent was all slow and steady passion, one hand running soothing circles along your back as the other cupped just below your ear.

You were all too aware of him backing up until you were pressed against a wall, his body gently leaning against yours. Every move only deepened the embrace, every stroking thumb, every press of lips. Bliss was kissing someone you loved more than anything, this was bliss. Neither of you cared how long you stayed like that, all that mattered was that you were finally in each other’s arms, two loves finally requited.

A.N.  Between the getting drenched scene here and Yami barely avoiding sneezing on you in the last chapter I should just call this ‘Yami: a series of embarrassing cockblocks’ lol. But hey at least he got you in the end, right? Anyway I hope the big confession scene was good enough and worth the build-up…? Kinda nervous about that part honestly. Anyway, I got one more chapter of this series for you guys, can’t have all that build up and not show the actual relationship, right? I'm also writing a bonus chapter that's....*ahem*, very sensual if you catch my meaning. So, if you are interested in/comfortable with NSFW stuff keep an eye out for that posting as well. As always thanks for reading!

[jasminehoneytea]

we close at sunset ~ p.p

as the sun began to dip behind the skyscrapers, i left my post behind the rose quartz counter to pick up the little yellow sign that hung above the flower shop door. i flipped it over from the “come on in!” side to the side that had lavender painted letters and said “we close at sunset. thanks for stopping by!”

continuing my ‘closing time’ routine, i shut the tiny white door and flipped off the light switch. i hummed along to an old song stuck in my head. i always liked closing time. the sunset, the quiet, especially the way the golden light shined through the giant stained glass window onto the plants and gave them a sort of ethereal glow. i loved that window. it was this beautiful glass mural of a far away new york city skyline from the view of a hill with sunflowers on it. i had grown up gazing at that window, and now i got to look at it everyday.

this was my first time closing up shop on my own, my boss had finally trusted me enough to let me manage the store alone. all the customers had left, and the atmosphere was filled with tranquility.

CRASH

i let out a scream and jumped backward, just narrowly avoiding the millions of shattered colorful glass falling at my feet. i managed to grab my phone as i hid under the desk praying that the loud crash of the window breaking overpowered my scream. there was someone dressed in red and black on the floor in front of me, groaning and clutching their side. they seemed to not be paying attention, so i crawled over to a couple hostas to get a better view. i typed 911 in to the emergency call keypad and hovered my thumb over the call button, peaking through the wide, dark leaves.

wait a minute.

i recognized that spider emblem on the intruder’s chest.

“hey, uh spider-man?” i asked, slowly peeking my head out above the hostas. he groaned in pain again and turned his head towards me. the eyes on his mask twitched spuratically for a couple seconds until they seemed to focus on me. “are you here to rob me?”

spider-man used his elbow to prop himself up slightly. he winced slightly before saying “no” and falling back to floor, cursing under his breath.

“oh. okay. cool.” the fear coursing through me seemed to subside as i made my way over to him. “should i call an ambulance?”

“no.” he repeated.

“are you okay?”

“n-uh...yep, fine. totally fine.” spider-man replied. “i just was fighting this bad guy and she threw me through your window and took off. that’s all.”

the panic i once felt came rushing back. “she’s not going to come back here and try to kill us, is she?”

“nah. she’s sneaky.” he said. “she has a plan, i just don’t know what it is.”

great. spider-man just got his ass kicked and now i’m involved. if she has a mysterious plan that he doesn’t know about, how is so sure she won’t come back? i thought about asking him all these burning questions, but then saw that he was writhing on the floor. “are you sure you’re okay? ‘cus you don’t look so good.”

“actually, could you do me a favor? i think i might have gotten cut by the glass.”

i felt my stomach drop at the thought of him bleeding. “oh god i’m not gonna have to sew you up, am i? i don’t do that well with blood. sometimes i pass out and....uh...nevermind” i cut myself off before i rambled too much. i always seemed to talk excessively when i was nervous. i stood up straighter and put on a brave face. “what do you need me to do?”

“just grab a first aid kit. please.”

“gotcha! don’t move!” i regretted my words instantly, realizing that he couldn’t really move that much if he was bleeding badly. i ran over to the back of the store and grabbed a stark white box with a red cross. when i came back, spider-man was weakly reaching up to his chest, tapping the spider emblem. the suit seemed to decompress and it fell of his shoulders.

damn, spider-man’s ripped.

i shook my head. that’s not the point. the problem was the giant gash across his abdomen. his extremely toned abdomen...

i knelt down beside the spandex clad superhero and opened up the first aid kid and ripped off a piece of gauze. “it’s fine, i can do it.”

“buddy, you can hardly sit up. speaking of that, i need you to sit up.” he obliged, propping himself up using both arms. “i gotta stop the bleeding, so i’m going to use a lot of pressure. it’s going to hurt, i’m sorry.”

“don’t be.” he replied. i bit my lip in concentration and tied the gauze around his waist, Lining it with the cut. spider-man hissed in pain. i murmured another apology before tying the gauze, pulling it tight. he yelped again and lost his balance.

i caught his head and pulled him up by his shoulders slightly so he was leaning against me. “that’s the worst of it. it’s gonna take a while to stop bleeding. when you get home...or to you spider cave or whatever, just take off the gauze and clean the wound. it’s pretty bad, you should go to the hospital.”

“that’s out of the question. and i don’t have a ‘spider cave’.”

“sorry, man, you’re the one who broke my window. who even are you?” i asked.

“i’m...uh, i’m spider-man.”

i rolled my eyes. “so you’re not gonna tell me your real name?”

spider-man didn’t respond. i sighed and ripped off another piece of gauze. “did the glass cut you anywhere else?”

“um, yeah.”

“where?”

he hesitated. “the bottom right side of my face.” i reached ober to pull of his mask but his hand caught my wrist in a split second. i made a snarky comment about his damn reflexes and let my hand drop, resting in a closed fist on his chest. “i...can’t let you see my face.”

my expression softened. he seemed really genuine about keeping his identity secret. “okay.” i responded, my tone gentler. “can you at least pull it up a little bit?” he nodded and tugged the mask up to just below his nose. i studied the cut, it was just a little slice. it wasn’t even bleeding anymore. “you heal fast.” i told him.

“yeah, that’s part of my, y’know...”

“superhero thing?” i finished for him.

“yeah.” he chuckled slightly. i pretended to be observing the cut, but in reality i was studying his face, at least the part of it that i could see. he had soft pink lips. a couple freckles were seen just below where his cheeks would be. i could only assume that he had them across his nose and cheeks as well.

i looked down and realized he was still gripping my wrist. “i kind of need both hands, spidey.”

he apologized and released my wrist. i immediately got to work, watching in awe at how quickly the cut was healing while i cleaned it up. spidey winced a couple times at the pain. every time he inhaled sharply, i felt a pang of guilt in my chest and would say i’m sorry.

“you apologize too much.”

“because i’m kind of hurting you.”

“you’re helping me.” he corrected.

who knew spider-man would be such a sweet person?

“so spidey, how old are you?” i asked

“si-“ he paused. “i can’t tell you.”

“so, sixteen. cool, me too.”

he cursed softly and i giggled. “do you go to midtown?” he asked suddenly.

i nodded. “you do too, then?”

“i didn’t say that.” his face turned a shade of red.

“you’re not good at this whole identity thing.” i told him. spidey opened his mouth to retort, but i interjected. “this might scar.” i grabbed a turquoise bandaid with little succulents on it and placed it over his jaw, patting his cheek gently.

spider-man shrugged. “it’s okay, it should fade in a day or two.”

“those healing powers are useful.” i replied.

he grinned. “yeah. they are. you’re pretty useful too. thanks for cleaning me up.” i smiled back and put away my first aid kit, narrowly avoiding pieces of my poor window. “so, uh, plants, huh?” he called out to me as i hung the box back on the wall.

“spider-man!” i feigned a gasp. “if i didn’t know better, i’d say you were trying to start small talk with me!”

i heard him shuffle behind me. “so what if i am?”

i cracked a smile. “yes, plants. i’ve been dreaming of working at this exact store since i was five. i came in every weekend and volunteered to help water the plants. the day i turned sixteen, i applied to work here and got the job. tonight was actually my first night closing up shop. now i have to explain to my boss why there’s no window.

“‘we close at sunset’.” spidey said, referring to the little sign that was now face-down on the sidewalk outside.

i nodded. “we do indeed.”

spidey went quiet for a couple seconds. i grabbed a broom from the corner and began to say, “so are you gonna help me sweep this glass up or-“

when i turned around, spidey was no where to be seen. “-not...” i finished, sighing aloud. i had no idea how i was gonna explain this to my boss. that stained glass window was everything to her, not to mention how it was the symbol of my childhood dreams. i was just a sixteen year old, how was i supposed to pay for a thousand dollar window?

by the time i finished cleaning up the poor glass, the sun had set into a hazy purple night. it wasn’t too dark yet, i’d just have to write a lengthy email to my boss about what had happened that night. at least the old security camera that barely worked could help me plead my case.

“god, if you’re real and listening, please let me keep my job.” i whispered allowed as i finished taping an old blanket to cover the gaping hole where the window was. “and spider-man, if you’re listening too, you better pay for this. i can’t lose this, it’s my dream.” i blinked back frustrated and overwhelmed tears and picked up the “we close at sunset” sign, hanging it in its rightful place.

i clutched my purse to my side as i walked down the dimly light new york streets. a sudden shadowy movement caught my eye and i turned just quick enough to see a red and black figure on top of roof duck down. “thanks, spidey.” i mumbled, chucking softly. i felt a little safer knowing a teenage superhero was watching over me.

the next day, i woke up to a long voicemail from my boss. she sounded mad, but at least she believed me. i walked to school, my shoulders feeling a little lighter than they did the night before. i glanced up at the same midtown high sign that i looked at every day, five days a week, and a thought crossed my mind.

spider-man goes to midtown high.

i spent the rest of the morning attempting to identify the masked mystery, but i couldn’t recognize his voice anywhere. i hoped that maybe a couple freckle-faced boys would cross paths with me, but none did. by the end of the day, i had given up. i wasn’t going to find spider-man. i headed to work at the flower shop like any other day, feeling completely and utterly defeated.

my boss had left early for the day, searching for a stained glass shop that could fix the hole in the window and recreate the old picture.

“um, excuse me.” a voice said. it sounded familiar, i just couldn’t figure out from where i had heard it before.

i looked up and was face to face with a boy who looked my age. he had wavy brown hair, a couple of stray curls falling in front of his carame eyes. a dusting of freckles were delicately placed across the center of his face. i realized i was staring and awkwardly looked away.

“h-hi. my...aunt had ordered something from you but, um, apparently the order didn’t go through properly and...uh...anyways here’s the money.” he said, handing me a wad of cash. i flipped through it and my eyes widened.

“this is twelve hundred dollars.” i said, my voice low.

he nodded. “yeah. the order was...for...uh, a party.”

i looked back up at him, studying him once more. my eyes landed on his midtown high sweater. “i go there, too.” i said, gesturing to it. he gave me a small half-smile in response.

suddenly, i noticed a fading scar that stretched from his jawline up to to the lower part of his cheek; and suddenly, everything clicked into place. the unreasonable amount of money, the voice i somehow recognized, the scar, everything.

“spider-man?”

his eyes widened with fear. “n-no! what?”

“you’re him, aren’t you? i know your voice, your scar...you’re paying for the window aren’t you?”

“you have to be quiet!” he exclaimed with panicky tone. i laughed quietly and stepped around the counter.

“take me out for coffee and explain everything,” i told him. he was awfully cute, after all.

“...we close at sunset.”

[octopodeez]

Coffee Shop Soundtrack (Loki x Reader)

Here’s a fluffy coffee shop AU that absolutely no one asked for!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dedicated to @devilstrip pls enjoy this steaming-pile-of-shit-fic

**THIS CONTAINS NO INFINITY WAR SPOILERS**

His hand enveloped yours, and you froze.

It was a light feeling. A delicate touch that left your stomach tied in knots and your body tingling from adrenaline. The tips of his fingers rested over your knuckles, and stayed still, even as you twitched. It was an oddly intimate feeling, something extraordinarily gentle and human, which was the last thing you expected from someone like him. But it was nice. And you were losing yourself in your own fantasies. Your entire life had apparently been leading up to this moment, and you—

“May I have my coffee, please?”

You blinked as your brain caught up to speed on the current situation. Somehow the star-struck mix of shock and fear masqueraded as something romantic. This wasn’t love. It was just the feeling of being in the presence of a god.

“Sorry, yeah,” you released the cup and carefully snaked your hand back.

The look of calm remained on his face as he sighed heavily and muttered a brisk thank you, then walked away before you had the chance to return the pleasantry. You almost laughed at how ridiculous it was to think that you’d be able to say anything, anyways. You’d become something of a fish out of water; mouth awkwardly gaping as you gasped for air. Or words. Both were lost to you, regardless.

To your surprise, he took a seat in the back corner, rather than leaving. A bold move, seeing as he was hated by most of the general public for the stunts he pulled in New York a few years back. What was he doing back on Earth, anyways?

You got your answer as he pulled out a book.

Reading. Loki, god of mischief, brother of Thor, was sitting in a Starbucks, reading. And not one person seemed to care…not that there was even anyone around to notice.

Running your hand down your face, you checked your watch. It was almost 1am, and the skies were cloudy. The weather channel had been warning your area of a massive storm for nearly a week, and it was bound to start soon. High winds. Flash floods. The whole kit and caboodle. But your rent was due in a few weeks, and you were going to pay it, even if it meant drowning in sewer water and coffee.  

There was something surreal about being in a Starbucks during ridiculous hours of the night. Time seemed to slow, and despite the soft music in the background, there was a sort of silence that made you feel like you were teetering on the border of your dimension and a hazy dream. You could see the city lights outside your window, and if you squinted enough, Lake Michigan would appear on the horizon. There were always cars, even if they were few and far in between. There were always customers, too, who wandered in with the same frequency as the cars. Maybe fewer. And they all wanted the same thing: a large black coffee. These were not the type of people to use fancy words like venti, or ask for frilly drinks. They kept to themselves. They just wanted to get their caffeine fix and move on.

“Won’t one of your contraptions boil over and explode if you don’t pay closer attention?” He asked suddenly.    

“Uh, no,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed that he caught you staring. You took a quick glance around your station, anyways, just to be safe.

He made a small, disinterested noise in response, as he licked his thumb and turned the page. The silence between you was now very awkward. At least on your end.

Looking for a way to busy yourself, you went to fumble with the music. It was one of the perks of working late hours: you were freed from the usual playlist of the same dozen songs. As long as you kept the volume soft and switched things back by the time your shift ended, you could listen to anything. Tonight, you opted for something relaxing, but with a steady tempo—the sort of thing that was good to clean to—and grabbed a mop.

Outside, you could hear rain begin hitting the pavement. Thunder rumbled in the distance and you cringed. You hated storms—or at least the noisy ones.

“I don’t care much for them, either.”

You clutched the handle of the mop and forced a smile. “I didn’t know you could read minds, too.”

“I can read frightened humans clutching brooms.”

“It’s…a mop…” A weak counter, but you were trying to process the fact that he’d so casually called you a human. The word rolled off his tongue as if he was speaking to a pet.

“I’m sorry. A mop,” he quipped and closed his book.

You ran your thumb over the grain of the handle. “So can you call your brother and ask him to lay off the thunder?”

“This is nature, not my brother,” he looked out the window and something bittersweet crossed his features. “He likes to put on a much bigger spectacle—“

“Are you actually him?” You blurted. “Are you actually Loki? Or are you just one of those assholes that resembles a celebrity and just rolls with it when people mistake you for the real deal so you can laugh about it later?”

“I’m a celebrity?”

“I can’t think of a better word. Villain sounds too comic book-y.”

“And would you be afraid if I was him?”

“No.” You straightened yourself out, and latched onto the thread of hope that maybe he wasn’t the ethereal being you’d mistaken him for. Maybe he was just some weirdo. In which case, you had pepper spray in your back pocket if things got out of hand. “Loki wouldn’t be stupid enough to come back here. And even if he was, he wouldn’t pick Chicago to hide out in. Not when it’s so close to his last fuckup.”

“You make some excellent points,” he chuckled. “But you’re a bit off the mark.”

In a swift motion he held his hand up, and a thin piece of metal materialized in a flash of green light. Without a second thought, he tucked it between the pages of his book, and shut it.

“That was…so…extra.”

For a moment he seemed taken aback; disappointed that this human wasn’t falling down, shocked and impressed and maybe a bit fearful of his power. But he had to remind himself that this wasn’t why he was here. This wasn’t why he was in this form. This wasn’t why the storm raged so violently outside.

“I’ve been called many things, but extra is not one of them.”

***

Four cups of coffee later, and you were seated across from him, laughing as if you’d known each other for years. He told you about his brother. His sister. His father. His mother. His home. He asked you about the music you played, and why someone like you was in a place like this, and what your aspirations were; a reminder that questions like those used to be genuine before the douche bags of the world got hold of them.  

He made little trinkets disappear and reappear, at your wide-eyed requests. In turn, you showed him how to draw hearts and swirls in latte foam. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as what he could do, but from the way he seemed so enamored by your words, one wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

You were hunched over, forming the outline of a cat when a particularly loud crack of lighting rattled the windows. Startled, you dropped your utensil into the mug, and cursed.

“Dammit. That was the best one I’d ever done.”

‘You could always try again,” he replied, waving his hand fluidly over the mug to make the foam flat and white once more.

Pursing your lips together, you stared at the coffee, and then looked up to meet his eyes.

“Why are you here? Why sit in a shitty coffee shop in Chicago when you could be literally anywhere else in the world?”

“Because,” he laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on the table, “I made a promise to my brother and his wizard friend that I’d remain within a certain radius of them. This city is as far away as I could get without breaking that promise.”  

“And this specific place?”

“I came in here by chance, saw something I liked, and decided to stay,” there was a sort of sheepish tone to his voice.

“Well…I’m glad you did. And if you’d like, maybe I could show you around a little. It’s a great city.”

“I’d very much like that.”

His lips were soft against yours as he leaned in to kiss you, and his skin was cool to the touch. It had a magnetic quality to it that drew you in deeper and deeper, until you kissed him with such fervor that you thought you might drown in him. Outside, the storm started to subside; a coincidence that made the moment all the more poetic. Lord help you if this didn’t work out in the end, because you knew that nobody on this Earth could ever kiss you like that.

***

For the first time in a long time, Loki was feeling good. Truly, honestly, purely, good. The sun was just coming up, and already the streets were filled with sleepy drivers yawning the whole way to work. Perhaps if he was alone any longer, then an actual bounce would’ve worked its way into his step, but his moment was rudely interrupted.

“So how did it go, brother?”

He choked on his coffee and looked to the side. There was Thor, chipper as ever, with a mischievous smile on his face. This was one in only a handful of times that he’d ever managed to sneak up on Loki, and he was sure he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“I don’t.”

“Come now, brother,” Thor scoffed, matching his pace. “We could do this all day. You being coy and stupid; me, feigning naivety. Back and forth, back and forth, stupid and naïve, stupid and naïve,” Thor slung his arm over Loki as he spoke, “But in the end, I think we’re just postponing the inevitable.”

“And what might that be?”

“That in 1500 years, you still can’t get a date. Not even with my help—”

“Oh, were those sparkles outside yours?” Loki halted and shook his brother’s arm off his shoulders.

Thor narrowed his eyes. Months later and the Grandmaster’s pet name was still a sore spot. Loki could only hope it’d stay that way for at least another thousand years or so. There was just so much fun to be had with it.

“I try to help you, and this is the thanks I get.”

“Terrifying the poor thing with a storm is not help.”

Thor huffed and crossed his arms, clearly offended.

“I only meant to encourage closeness—“

“Loki!”

Both men turned at the sound of your voice as you jogged towards them. There was a brief falter in your steps as you realized Thor was there. He was nearly unrecognizable from behind after his apparent haircut. You cleared your throat, awkwardly.

“Hey, you forgot your book…”

“Did I? Ah, well thank you,” he replied lightly and took it from your outstretched hand.

“No problem. I’ll see you next week, then?”

“Yes. And I suspect the weather will be much nicer,” Loki shot a sideways glance at his companion.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then,” you smiled and gave a small wave as you walked away, feeling very proud of yourself for keeping your composure.

As you turned the corner and disappeared from sight, Loki drummed his fingers against the cover of the book. A content grin crossed his features.

“See, brother? I didn’t need your sparkles, after all.”

Master List (x)

[kittencaboodleextraordinaire]

“Ok, but I had a Johnny first, and mine is better”: Adventures in Cyberpunk with a snarky headmate

Warning: this post contains considerable discussion of a major plot point in Cyberpunk 2077 which is discussed in the promotional materials (trailers etc) but which is not revealed in-game until after the first segment of the main story (the heist). Those who wish to remain unspoiled may instead view this lovely picture I edited of four raccoons in a trenchcoat (inspired by Critical Role’s playthrough of the absolutely delightful ttrpg Crash Pandas, which I highly encourage everybody in existence to go check out).

This phenomenal piece of art is surely the high point of this post. It can only go downhill from here.

Anyway.

So as we all know, Cyberpunk 2077 was finally released a few days ago to the expected amount of drama and fanfare, and my partner and I have been playing it together, by which I mean he’s been playing and I’ve been providing helpful advice like “We should totally buy the awesome purple car what do you mean you want a motorcycle THE MOTORCYCLE ISN’T PURPLE”. It’s not, y’know, an amazing game, but it’s pretty fun and I have already found multiple characters to ship V with, which I’m sure we can all agree is the truly important thing here. Plus of course there is abundant opportunity to make innuendo at my partner so I am a happy kitten. Mostly. There is one aspect of the story that is proving to be a continual source of awkwardness and general highly disconcerting aura. Namely, Johnny Silverhands.

At some point (I fell asleep for this part so I don’t know exactly what happened), you end up fused with a chip containing the personality of Johnny Silverhands, some kind of sort of famous dude who died a long time ago or something like that. awards self 10/10 stars for that eloquent and informative summary of important plot elements I was totally paying attention to and wasn’t asleep for at all anyway the important thing is there’s a dude hanging out in your brain with you. This is kind of weird and awkward for me, since I also have a dude hanging out in my brain with me. His name is Jonas. Jonas, say hi. J: I’m not a zoo animal and I don’t do tricks, also I reject the idea that this adds to the post in any real way. However you are very lucky because I am bored and complaining at you sounds more fun than going back to sleep. Now I’m tired and it’s 3:30 am go to bed or write the rest of this by your own damn self. That’s basically the same thing I guess.

Jonas is a bit weird. I don’t really have any idea what he is, and it’s not really within the scope of this blog post to discuss it in depth. He is some flavor of alternate personality, he is one of my closest friends, and he is a pain in the ass, much like most of my other friends. Having Jonas around is uncannily like V’s experience sharing their brain with Johnny Silverhands. Now I have a few other friends who have multiple personalities, one of whom is watching playthroughs of Cyberpunk and has appropriately described the experience as “pretty fucky”, which about sums it up. However it’s made even worse for me personally by the sheer number of similarities between Jonas and Johnny and their interactions with the people they share heads with, for (the most obvious) example, their names are really fucking similar. Jonas has matured a lot since he started appearing about 6-7 years ago but Johnny’s snark, unhelpfulness, complete disinterest in being nice, and even his body language all scream of Jonas’s original behavior, which, let’s be honest here, he still does all that anyway, he’s just nicer about it because he likes me. When Jonas and I talk, we tend to picture him as standing (or sitting or leaning against the wall or whatever) somewhere in the room with me, much as Johnny appears to V. He’s not active all the time and until very very recently was almost never “in charge”, so to speak, much like Johnny. So what we have here is somebody who acts a fuck of a lot like Jonas, has a similar name to Jonas, and interacts with their host in a manner that is almost a perfect match to how Jonas interacts with me. Somehow all of this went over my head. Then something even more uncanny happened.

Now, Jonas was originally an extremely minor character in a vast series of stories that I have made up in my head and never actually written down. He somehow evolved, without any conscious effort on my part, from a bit character who was never meant to do anything besides show up, get scolded by the authorities, and leave, to an increasingly major character, to living in my brain with me. Consequently, while he generally shares my tastes and preferences in terms of food and etc etc etc, there is an extremely major way in which we diverge: Jonas, like Johnny, and unlike me, smokes. All the time. It is Very Important to him. As such, the fact that I do not smoke and have exactly negative one billion interest in ever doing so is a source of intense frustration to him. We have had m a n y arguments about this. He knows not to push it too much and respects that it is my decision but that is not about to stop him from complaining about it loudly and with great passion. So when we encountered a scene of V and Johnny having the exact same fucking argument, ending with the incredibly blatantly Jonasesque lamentation from Johnny “Nonsmokers are the fucking worst”, it was like getting hit in the head with a brick. Actually forget the brick, it was like being hit with an entire building, and then having Jonas stick his head out the window and go “Missed me? ;)”, and then yelling back “WELL IDK BUT MAYBE NEXT TIME YOU’RE PILOTING AN ENTIRE FUCKING BUILDING IF YOU COULD TRY A LITTLE HARDER TO MISS ME THAT’D BE REALLY NICE THANKS” and then having him wink at me and assure me that head trauma builds character. It fucking doesn’t and he knows it.

After that, it was impossible to not see Jonas every time Johnny came onscreen. I still enjoy the game a lot. The setting and story are both really really cool and the loot is A+, and I really love being able to hang out in voice chat with my partner, who currently lives pretty far away, and do something fun together and experience something new. But having my relationship with Jonas, which I still have a lot of conflicting feelings about no matter how much I genuinely believe he’s a positive force in my life, reflected back at me at every turn, is bizarre, surreal, and a constant reminder of issues that have been nagging at me for a while, many of which are explicitly being brought up by the game itself. Last night we were doing a mission where V and Johnny at some point start talking and V mentions how they seem to be getting along better and Johnny suggests that maybe it’s because he’s rubbing off on V. V responds with something to the effect of “Am I becoming more like you, or are you becoming more like me?”. Jonas and I have been asking ourselves the same question for years. The only answer we were ever able to come up with is “probably both”, but the question of how much and to what extent, and if you start blending together with somebody else that much, are you really the same person anymore, and on down the rabbit hole we go, can really eat at you if you’re the kind of person who cares about that sort of thing. Which I guess we both are. And frankly we are probably not even half done with the main storyline and I doubt it’s going to stop posing these questions. 

J: so I said I wasn’t going to have any more of this and went off in a huff but actually I changed my mind I have some stuff to say. 

this is obviously weird for kitsie, and I guess it might be obviously weird for me too but it’s weird in an entirely different kinda way. it’s certainly surreal, and a lot of the questions it keeps bringing up are a lot to think about. Johnny is a program on a computer chip designed to be a copy of the original Johnny’s brain. this raises the question, and this may or may not be addressed later, how real is he? and is he the original Johnny, just on a computer chip now, or is he a different entity who happens to be identical to Johnny? and how is a person on a computer chip embedded on somebody’s brain really different from a person who’s a subroutine in somebody else’s brain? am I real? am I a part of Kitsie that just thinks differently for some reason? are we two facets of a whole being that’s kind of both of us and kind of neither of us? am I just a hitchhiker? I really don’t know. I have a lot of memories and backstory. things I did in the past, before I knew Kitsie. are those memories real? they feel real to me but on the other hand they didn’t actually happen. are Johnny’s memories real? they did happen but he’s a brain scan so did they actually happen to him? it’s a lot to think about, but hard to stop thinking.

and then there’s the other concern, which is that this is a game for kitsie to enjoy with her partner, and whenever this shit happens it wakes me up and I end up feeling really weird, like I’m intruding. which I am.  and as wonderful and understanding as he is, I’m still very much something he is getting used to and having problems adjusting to and I really understand because fuck I’m having a problem adjusting to me too. and maybe it’s stupid but I feel bad for being the disconcerting aura of uncomfortable thoughts wafting through something that’s supposed to be a pleasant and fun evening without me in it. which frankly sums up my entire existence. fuck this I’m tired I’m out of here again go tf to sleep kit.

I had more to say but “what he said” pretty much sums it up.

In conclusion, I don’t really have any objection to the story itself. It’s an interesting concept carried out fairly well that under normal circumstances I would think was really cool, and certainly it’s been a unique experience anyway. And I guess if anything the fact that it’s so unnervingly on the nose is a sign they did a good job? I’m still having a huge amount of fun with the game and the massive backlog of sidequests combined with our minimal ability to focus means that the main quest only takes up a small portion of our playtime in any case. I just needed to get all this shit off my chest.

This has been tonight’s episode of the Kitty Rambles Podcast, I am too tired to think of any good way to end this so goodnight and thank you for tuning in!

[gffa]

I was going to try to do a Star Wars novels post this week, get back in the swing of things, but I can never stay away from STAR WARS fic for too long, there’s just too much that’s incredibly good! There’s so much that’s either just spot on to the characters or just hits the id or does something so clever that I’m enthralled (or does all three!) that is amazing and everyone should come scream about them with me! STAR WARS RECS: ✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 45.6k wip    For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him. ✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k    In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia. ✦ Shih by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, time travel, 8k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi has a vision of the future, and tries to change it while elsewhere Ben Kenobi dies. ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 40.8k wip    During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. ✦ At Your Service by DonkerRood, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, crossdressing, spanking, 1.9k    Anakin dresses up in a maid outfit and he and Obi-Wan have some fun. Just smut. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, shaak ti & yoda & kit fisto & mace windu & cast, 1.3k    When Shaak Ti returned to Coruscant she had not expected anything remotely as dire as an explosion at the Senate—injuring several senators and staff, killing two, and leaving Master Kenobi in a critical condition—to happen. ✦ Respite by GirlwithCurls98, anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 4.9k    After a particularly grueling mission, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, and the 501st are sent to Kamino for some much needed medical care. ✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, mildly nsfw, modern au, 6.8k wip    Anakin Skywalker is a Grand Prix jumper transitioning into the Eventing world. While his scores are good during the cross-country and show jumping phases of Eventing, his dressage scores are abysmal. His sponsor sets him up as a working student for two-time Dressage Gold Medalist Ben Kenobi to help him pursue his dream of competing in the Olympics. ✦ Untitled part 1 + part 2 by glare-gryphon, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, a/b/o, 2.4k    Prompt: Anonymous asked: Hi are you still taking prompts at the moment? If yes how about Alpha Obiwan who when in rut tends to loose himself in his (very protective) instincts, while Omega!Anakin very much keeps his head and is very aware of what goes on around him but still willing to indulge Obiwan’s somewhat ridiculous alpha instincts ✦ On the Day After by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & bail & breha, ~1k    Vader has many questions, and only one place to turn for answers. ✦ i’m just a kid of ill repute (and this skin i wear is my only suit) by SashaSea (SHCombatalade), obi-wan & anakin & padme & cast, kingsman fusion, 5.6k    “This is a disaster,” Anakin huffs out a near laugh, passing his remaining grenades to Obi-Wan. He accepts them with a grin and a few spare magazines for Anakin’s pistol, bumping their shoulders together. “This is fun.” ✦ Ain’t No Light Without the Dark by lumenbriide, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k    “You should have joined me all those years ago, Kenobi.” Anakin overhears Dooku remind Obi-Wan about the temptation on Geonosis, and suddenly, Obi-Wan isn’t as infallible as he seems. He has secrets, just like Anakin; and their bond can only get stronger. ✦ Rewrought by esama, obi-wan & qui-gon & maul, time travel, 4.4k    Bit o time travel ✦ Faithless by esama, obi-wan, 2.5k    Obi-Wan loses his faith in Tatooine full details + recs under the cut!

✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 45.6k wip    For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him.    Chapter 10: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. This is the end of the first arc of this fic and it’s a good place to leave off, including the previous chapter, as there’s been at least enough resolution to be a good stopping point, even though the major things are still in play. This is a chapter that’s about Ahsoka and her visions, how it starts to explore a bit of what it means to be a Jedi in contact with the Force, to have to struggle through being unsure if it’s your own anxiety that’s making you feel bad or if it’s a warning from the Force or some twisty, turny combination of both, and how they desperately need control over themselves to not spiral out, to not be consumed by all of this. The moments between Anakin and Ahsoka as he comforts her after a series of bad dreams, lightly touching on how Obi-Wan used to do the same for him, was really lovely and wonderful and worth the read alone! But also the really sweet moments with Yoda and Ahsoka!    I continue to love that this is a fic that’s spot on for the Jedi, if they’d ever managed to catch a fucking break or to have things brought to a head sooner, that they’re all struggling through this dark time, but they care very much and work so hard to do the best thing, and there are still moments of joy (Ahsoka and Yoda saying they’d ask Anakin to join them for meditation, which they’re surehe’ll love, I had such a smile on my face!) that it’s one of the best fics out there right now. ✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k    In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia.    I wasn’t sure what to expect when I picked up this chapter to read (which stands on its own, it’s part of a collection of shorter fics, but they’re unconnected), but I was curious and I’ve always liked this author’s work. What I got was something that was half-world-building and half character piece, wrapped up in the setting of a crossover, all of which came together just exactly as it should. The two worlds blended very well together, the River of Light and the stone Qui-Gon picks up that’s Force-sensitive, the way everything on Gaia just bubbles over with the Living Force, the way this is used by Qui-Gon to gain a deeper understanding of himself, in a lovely and incredibly Jedi sort of way, is wonderfully done. This is a piece that I thought really captured his character, this felt like the character I recognized and was incredibly engaging! It’s not just about Gaia, it really is a piece centered on Qui-Gon Jinn as a character, about his life as a Jedi and the antics he gets into (the sense of this being an actual galaxy is very nicely done as well! I enjoyed the helium-breathing planet just as much as I enjoyed Gaia just as much as I enjoyed everything else), it’s about self-reflection and understanding his own flaws and working on them, just as much as he understands what he’s good at.    It helps to be familiar with FF7, especially to understand the connection of the rock that Qui-Gon picks up and what happens later, likely because of it, but you absolutely don’t need to know it to enjoy this fic, it can just be a cool background world for Qui-Gon to have come from while you read the characterization stuff! It’s one of those fics that I read and made me fall back in love with the potential of Star Wars, it’s one of those fics that I felt like it understood what a Jedi would actually go through and how they’re such good people and the kinds of things they struggle with, it’s one of those fics that made it genuinely interesting and engaging to read! It’s a great piece for someone who has trouble finding Qui-Gon fic that suits my feelings, but also it’s just a really good fic. ✦ Shih by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, time travel, 8k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi has a vision of the future, and tries to change it while elsewhere Ben Kenobi dies.    Oh, well. This fic is only two chapters at the time of this rec and already I’m So Very Sad about it, because it’s such a lovely, aching look at these characters and the impending doom hanging over them all, that Obi-Wan is plauged by unspecific but inescapable visions, that he knows something is going to go terribly wrong, but he doesn’t know what and trying to figure that out, trying to navigate between this sweet child in front of him versus the cloak of darkness that swirls around him, that visions don’t necessarily always come true versus that this one is one he knows is more important than that. I absolutely adored the scene where Obi-Wan goes to talk to moppet Anakin, the glimpse he gets into the child’s fears and uncertainty, the kindness that Obi-Wan naturally extends to him, it’s so true to his character, even as there’s a vague current of hurt and unease that Qui-Gon has so easily replaced him. But it’s not bitter, because that’s not who Obi-Wan Kenobi is, instead it finds just the right amount of sad versus knowing that he’s capable of walking forward to whatever comes next.    I would have read this fic just for that first chapter, the relationships Obi-Wan has with both of these people! But then the second chapter came along and, oh, Ben is so tired and worn down, there’s something so difficult about all the hard-won experience he’s gained, the balance between regret that he couldn’t do more, that it felt almost wasteful to stay on Tatooine, versus knowing that it was the right decision. That, when he realizes there’s a chance for change, it’s not a simple thing and that complicated tangle is so much more interesting than a straight-forward fix-it (much as I love love love fix-it fics, don’t get me wrong, I’m hoping for a fix it here, I’m hoping for good things, but I love that it’s not ever meant to be easy, if it were, then the original canon wouldn’t mean so much) and the conversation they have, the things that Ben understands because he’s seen so much more, are perfectly done. Because he’s right, it wasn’t just one thing or one person. And the ending of that chapter is the perfect hook to make sure I’m going to keep reading, because, damn, I’m definitely invested now! ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 40.8k wip    During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.    Chapter 8: This is an update rec and will focus on this chapter, rather than the fic as a whole. Also, there are likely to be spoilers beyond this point! One of the best things about this chapter is just how high the tension of it was, that the reveal wasn’t the end of it, but instead yet another racheting up point, that learning how the Sith versions were visions more than anything, the research that Obi-Wan had done (and I really enjoyed the difficulty with the translations and poetic language, it’s one of those little touches that really works for me) and how they both had to work to figure out what was going on in a way that felt spot on to them, that they would investigate and discuss things this way, but without feeling like the story had hit pause for the characters to become talking heads, which is something that can be hard to avoid. Instead, this felt like two characters who were genuinely on edge, little touches of Obi-Wan drumming his fingers on the datapad or the way Anakin curled up in the blankets add to this, that show what they’re feeling, rather than telling us. This adds to the creepy atmosphere of the house, whatever’s going on with the Force here, how run-down and dilapidated everything feels here in a very spooky way.    This is also the chapter where the Jedi versions, the real versions, first tumble into bed together beyond just a shard kiss or curling up together, and that made sense to me, because I really felt this sense of isolation with them, that they’re the only two people here in this house. When the Sith were there, sure, they were on edge and wary of them, couldn’t trust them, but at least someone else was there, but now there’s just nothing but them and whatever shadow is lurking around the corner and trying to sneak its way into them. This twines around the confession from the night before, Anakin learning to trust Obi-Wan just a little bit by telling him the truth, Obi-Wan helping to shoulder that burden with him, and so it’s pulling a whole lot of feelings and sexual tension to the surface, resulting in how they tumble together in a way they might not have in other circumstances, but makes sense for them in this moment. The connection is still real, it’s about what was already under the surface, even as it’s heightened!    I also really loved the smaller reveal in this chapter of what was happening with the beacon–the answer was the only one that made sense with what we already knew, but even having guessed it, it doesn’t detract from the creepy scene and the build-up of the tension when Obi-Wan was following Anakin, the way his whole demeanor was just weird and unsettling, like a shiver-inducing fugue state, until something seemed to be trying to dra him away into the dark, something that wasn’t just a physical presence, but was getting at his mind. And that’s far more creepy than just some physical monster that can be fought with a laser sword!    And then there’s the sex itself, ahhhhh. As much as I would have enjoyed penetrative sex, I think the handjob/blowjob combination probably works better here, because they’re just starting out, because it’s more about the desperate need for contact with the other person–especially Anakin, who is so afraid and feels whatever’s in the house so keenly, even more than Obi-Wan does. Not that the verbal comfort wasn’t lovely as well, I loved so very much that Obi-Wan was extra careful with his words because he knew how brittle and on edge Anakin was here, that Obi-Wan was so careful not to blame him for turning off the beacon, because that’s not what his concern was about. And that he’s hyperfocused on Anakin a way the situation warrants, so of course he makes even more effort than usual to make sure Anakin understands the lack of blame–another way where their interaction is heightened from normal, but in a way that’s pulling up what was already there underneath and makes sense for them.    But, okay, also Obi-Wan’s hand in Anakin’s hair, the visions of what their counterparts had done, what that says about what these two want, the darkness that looms in this place, even when these characters are both such good people, that this was about desire and want and heat and fear all rolled up together. It was the perfect balance between my affection for the way the (Soft) Sith versions are used in fic against how the Jedi are good and so valuable, that it’s about these characters as people and what they’ve been through and what they want, yessss.    All of that is true, there’s so much I love on a narrative level, on a more intellectual level, but then I whip right back around to: But Obi-Wan’s hand in Anakin’s hair. The way Anakin’s mind goes blissfully blank, the way he so desperately wants to belong to his Master, that desperate step forward that crashes right through his usual knee-jerk reactionary “I don’t belong to anyone!”, to show that if he choose to give himself to someone, chooses to let that person have power over him, then it’s different and comforting and so good. It’s about safety, it’s about being able to relax, because everything in his head isn’t dragging him down, that there’s someone there to take so much weight off him. But also I just really loved the image of Anakin all pliant and messy and sprawled out beneath his Master, cast in shadows, like he’s still very much a Jedi, but the imagery and potential thematic meaning in a house full of so much shadow is really, really lovely. ✦ At Your Service by DonkerRood, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, crossdressing, spanking, 1.9k    Anakin dresses up in a maid outfit and he and Obi-Wan have some fun. Just smut.    This was one of those fics that was just exactly what I needed when I picked it up, one of those that appeals right to my id and gives me the fun, light-hearted, smutty things I apparently enjoy a ridiculous amount. Anakin in a maid’s uniform, roleplaying with it and acting out to be bratty and so he’ll get Obi-Wan’s attention, who will spank him before fucking him, and it’s exactly what it says on the tin, if you go into this fic, you know exactly what you’re getting and you gotta roll with that. But it’s warm-hearted as well, it’s meant to be fun and joyful, that it’s about giving Anakin what he wants, satisfying something in him and making him feel so loved and content, that Anakin is so very gorgeous like this and Obi-Wan enjoys seeing him being able to whine for more, that Anakin gets to do that, that Obi-Wan gets to fuck the noise and restlessness right out of Anakin’s head. And by the time he’s finally pushing into Anakin, finally fucking him, it’s just nicely satisfying sex and exactly what I needed during shark week, bless and thank. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, shaak ti & yoda & kit fisto & mace windu & cast, 1.3k    When Shaak Ti returned to Coruscant she had not expected anything remotely as dire as an explosion at the Senate—injuring several senators and staff, killing two, and leaving Master Kenobi in a critical condition—to happen.    This is part of the Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan series and should be read in order by this point! And, ahhhh, this was such a lovely tide-over until the next piece, where it’s not really about resolution, but about the Jedi reacting to the explosion that happened recently, the chaos they’re trying to help tame, and one of their own being injured and what that means for young Skywalker. This is so spot on for them, how they work to remain calm in the face of such awful circumstances and they work so hard to do the best for everyone, to break the news as best they can, consider what’s the best thing for everyone in the situation. There’s such consideration of Anakin’s reactions, knowing how close he and Obi-Wan are, and it’s just so good and warm-hearted and kind a fic that I’m in love all over again. ✦ Respite by GirlwithCurls98, anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 4.9k    After a particularly grueling mission, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, and the 501st are sent to Kamino for some much needed medical care.    This was a cute little fic about Anakin and Ahsoka having pushed themselves so far that they need to rest, that they’re on the edge of physical collapse from how hard the Jedi are running themselves in this war. And there’s a lot of complicated feelings in here, especially Anakin who still doesn’t really understand the Jedi (so the line about the Code is unreliable, considering Anakin doesn’t really get it), but mostly it’s a healing fic, where Anakin cares so deeply about her, how his relationship with Obi-Wan helps him even when they’re not anywhere near each other at the moment, how the clones care so deeply about the Jedi and vice versa, how they Ahsoka and the clones help each other when they need this moment of respite. It was such a sweet fic in the middle of such a horrible war and I really enjoyed it a lot for that! ✦ Pursuit by Icse, obi-wan/anakin, mildly nsfw, modern au, 6.8k wip    Anakin Skywalker is a Grand Prix jumper transitioning into the Eventing world. While his scores are good during the cross-country and show jumping phases of Eventing, his dressage scores are abysmal. His sponsor sets him up as a working student for two-time Dressage Gold Medalist Ben Kenobi to help him pursue his dream of competing in the Olympics.    This is one of those fics that appeals directly to what I want sometimes when I’ve had enough of the heartbreak of canon and when fandom has gotten extra spirit crushing about things–where it’s a light-hearted, warm, embracing-the-fluff modern AU where Anakin is a horse jumper training for the next level, while Ben trains him and Anakin desperately, desperately wants to fall into bed with him. Where it’s all about Anakin being an adorable, soft disaster who does everything he can to get Ben’s attention, who is trying to stay away from doing anything with him because he feels its not proper. It’s just fun when you’re in the mood for something completely, ridiculously warm-hearted and cute and fluffy and with a little bit of smut mixed in. Which is exactly what I’m here for and I just sort of wrapped myself up in this like a warm, fuzzy blanket! ✦ Untitled part 1 + part 2 by glare-gryphon, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, a/b/o, 2.4k    Prompt: Anonymous asked: Hi are you still taking prompts at the moment? If yes how about Alpha Obiwan who when in rut tends to loose himself in his (very protective) instincts, while Omega!Anakin very much keeps his head and is very aware of what goes on around him but still willing to indulge Obiwan’s somewhat ridiculous alpha instincts    The first part is this cute, light-hearted, fluffy thing where Anakin has to put up with Obi-Wan’s rutting instincts and the nests he winds up making and it’s really adorable! And the second one is just ridiculously satisfying a/b/o porn, together the two of them are just an absolute delight to read! I am always here for Anakin in heat, just desperately wanting wanting wanting, wanting his Master to fill him up and fuck him and get this noise out of his head, I am always here for Obi-Wan who tries to be considerate and thoughtful, but it’s contrasted against the rutting instincts, where he just wants to flip Anakin onto his stomach and drive into him, wants to finally claim him and hold him and take care of him. And these two just hit me right where I live, they’re charismatic and, oh, the way Obi-Wan ground against Anakin’s backside, almost lost to this desire to push into him fast and hard, but holding back just enough to ease the way for Anakin, until he’s finally open and relaxed enough that Obi-Wan can properly fuck him, it’s sosatisfyingly delicious. I have a thing for Obi-Wan grinding back and forth, trying to hold himself back while Anakin writhes and tries to adjust, but they both want more, and this fic just delivered that so very well for me. ✦ On the Day After by victoria_p (musesfool), anakin & bail & breha, ~1k    Vader has many questions, and only one place to turn for answers.    This is a follow-up to On the Day Before, which should be read first! This was a lovely sequel piece to the previous one and it walks a fine line, because Vader isn’t someone who is kind or does good things anymore, but also I can believe that he could be inspired to follow Padme’s daughter, that there’s just enough of a spark of good and some misguided intentions, and it absolutely nails that Vader has never wanted power for himself, it’s always been about being someone else’s sword, someone he would do any amount of dark things to protect. And this fic walks that fine line very well, that Vader sees that he can’t just brute force strength his way through this, Leia would never be won over, but instead he has plans about her and, oh, it’s a disaster in the making and it’s spot on, this was so much fun to read! ✦ i’m just a kid of ill repute (and this skin i wear is my only suit) by SashaSea (SHCombatalade), obi-wan & anakin & padme & cast, kingsman fusion, 5.6k    “This is a disaster,” Anakin huffs out a near laugh, passing his remaining grenades to Obi-Wan. He accepts them with a grin and a few spare magazines for Anakin’s pistol, bumping their shoulders together. “This is fun.”    This was a fun fusion piece that just sailed right along and had the right kind of charisma and charm to keep me engaged the whole way through, there was just the right amount of sparkle and whatever-it-is that makes a fic fun to read! It’s fairly light-hearted and it’s centered on Anakin, as well as his relationships with Obi-Wan and Padme that are each complicated and each something more than friendship, something deeply rooted in him, if in different ways–and I really loved that with Padme it was more overtly romantic, but with Obi-Wan it felt more like he was woven into the fabric of Anakin’s life, both made for satisfying dynamics! I do think you should be familiar with the first Kingsman movie to read this one, but it’s definitely a delightful pick-me-up when you need something fun to read! ✦ Ain’t No Light Without the Dark by lumenbriide, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k    “You should have joined me all those years ago, Kenobi.” Anakin overhears Dooku remind Obi-Wan about the temptation on Geonosis, and suddenly, Obi-Wan isn’t as infallible as he seems. He has secrets, just like Anakin; and their bond can only get stronger.    A lovely little story about Dooku trying to tempt Obi-Wan away from the Jedi and how it doesn’t really work, that’s not who Obi-Wan is at heart, and the conversation Obi-Wan has with Anakin afterwards and what that pulls to the surface between them. This is a story centered on Anakin’s complicated feelings and the relationship between these two characters, one that works towards giving them a little bit more understanding and showing the depth of care between them in an understated but entirely genuine way. It was a very nice read, one that engaged me from beginning to end and I’m very glad I picked up to read! ✦ Rewrought by esama, obi-wan & qui-gon & maul, time travel, 4.4k    Bit o time travel    This is one of those fics that’s the kind of thing I daydream about sometimes, what a time-traveling Obi-Wan Kenobi would do, had he a chance to do the Naboo invasion all over again, and written in an incredibly engaging, easy to imagine sort of way. It’s not precisely a happy fic, but it’s balanced between standing well on its own if this is all there ever is, it’s short glimpse into the canon being shifted to another track, or it could spiral out from here, if it was ever continued. I’m fine with either way, really, because what the point was focused on was the moments where Obi-Wan makes his move, where he springs his plans into actions, and seeing that through the eyes of people who have no idea what’s going on. The loss of Obi-Wan in their eyes, the grief Qui-Gon has to work through, the chaos that comes from the actions of the “Sith Lord” that escaped Naboo, it’s all super engaging and interesting and fascinatingto watch unfold! It’s beautifully characterized and written, it’s got great action and great emotional impact and so much potential that sets my thoughts spinning around it, which is exactly what I wanted from a quick time-travling oneshot! ✦ Faithless by esama, obi-wan, 2.5k    Obi-Wan loses his faith in Tatooine    Oh, this one definitely hurt to read, all the more so because Obi-Wan is sort of right about some things and sort of terribly wrong about others, but that’s kind of the point of his time on Tatooine, that he’s struggling through so much. It’s not ultimately where he’s meant to end up, because Obi-Wan is someone who comes back to his faith, but as a piece where he loses his way, it really worked for me, that this is one part of a bigger cycle that Obi-Wan goes through in his isolation. The writing is so sad and lovely, so self-reflective and you can feel the loss from the character without it being hammered home into the reader, there’s something almost understated here, except also there’s beautiful imagery–I’m not explaining this well, but it’s just a really well-done piece. It’s very much a piece about Obi-Wan being lost, even as he manages to continue to get up every day, some days harder than others, that he continues forward on this path he’s on, that it’s not just the loss of his family and culture, but a loss of faith and the slow, horrible feeling that instills in me, reading this. So sad, but lovely.

[cessanderson]

Endings and Beginnings https://ift.tt/372fFGC

Even before I knew how to name it (or identify it) one of the core principles of my life was always to follow my energy. I used to say that I was a jack of all trades, or that I had a lot of hobbies, or, in wry moments, with countless projects in-progress around the house, call it “Project ADD”.

Fifteen years ago– before all of the houses and power tools– I used to take art classes, religiously. Metal casting, stained glass, painting, pottery, photography. I don’t have a passion for a specific art medium, just a desire to know how things are done, and then, when I can picture something in my head, to bring it into existence. I often don’t care what it is, or what’s involved in bringing it to life, I just get an overwhelming urge–once I can see it–to make it real.

And, truthfully, every construction project I’ve taken on, that house I built while I lived in a garage, and almost everything I’ve done on the farm is just a bigger and more complicated extension of that. Of picturing something in my head, and then bringing it into existence. Building it, planting it, tearing things down and/or cleaning them up. (Okay, fine, very very rarely cleaning things up, but you get what I’m saying.)

Everything I’ve written on this website has also been an extension of it. Once I’ve broken something down, dived into the details, and understand it from top to bottom there’s nothing I love more than to tell a story about it. To share it with everyone else. And while I know this is not the case, part of me likes to assume everyone out there is just like me and wants to know all the ins and outs of how things work, and how to take it all apart and put it back together themselves.

The internet, and the early days of blogging, provided such an amazing platform for those things, partly because nobody was doing it. There wasn’t good information out there written by, well, nerds like me. People who were just learning themselves, but passionate enough to want to dive right in, learn everything they could, and share it with everyone.

There are sixteen whole years of my life documented on this website. Even if you look back at the online world ten years ago, there wasn’t great “how to” information on the internet when it came to houses and DIY, and so everything I wrote here felt good, and useful and energizing.

A few years back I stopped writing how-to articles, mostly because all of the sudden you could find how-to’s on almost anything online (and I’m not mad about it… do you know how many parts I’ve been able to change out of my piece-of-shit ’95 farm truck because some guy made a shaky phone-cam tutorial and posted it to YouTube? ALL OF THEM. I am so grateful.)

Even after I realized the wave of useful how-to’s had caught up with me, I told stories all of the time. I believed so strongly, and still do, in the power of an authentic story.  I recently went back and re-read all of the archives of this website–which, as far as existential crises  go, I do not recommend re-reading 16 years of your life in one sitting– but I will say that I fucking love everything I ever wrote in 2013 (and not one of those things was a how-to). I love a lot of other things I wrote, but if there was a year between 2004 and now that I was on point with my storytelling (or maybe just genuinely delighted with my life?), that would be the one.

Recently though– and this will come as no surprise to anyone who has been checking this site, wondering what I’m up to– not so much. Which is weird because I’ve actually been writing a fair amount. Writing. Re-writing. Thinking a lot about the things I’ve written, and then never hitting the publish button.

I spent at least three weeks on this one, and I kind of love the story, but also kind of hate investing more time into a story I can’t seem to tell correctly…

Don’t even talk to me about my Drafts folder right now.

I know everyone wants to hear about the Tiny Angry Badgers. (Spoiler alert: They’re feral cats and resulted in six of the worst weeks of my life, and currently 2 of the best (since Bubs died.) I’ve had three complete emotional breakdowns over them. It has been a roller coaster.)

Here’s the thing… the fundamental parts of me that I’ve shared on this website for years have not changed. I love a challenge (I mean, people used to give me shit for drinking and using power tools, and now my hobbies have escalated into climbing mountains… alone. And even that doesn’t seem challenging enough. So.)

I love tackling projects on my own.. and increasingly feel like a crotchety old man when talking to the youths about how to do so, which I also love. (Let’s be honest, deep down I have always been a crotchety old man inside.)

I still occasionally have wicked building streaks (like all of the spring of 2019) where I have so much fun and so much energy I just can help but want to share it with the world.

I also have stories, like we all do. Stories about how I was bummed my peach trees only produced one whole peach this year (and yet how fucking delicious that one peach was… how much more I appreciated it than the years where those trees gave me ten pounds of fruit.)

Stories about how cool it is that my mom lives on a lake, just a half-mile down the road from me (how much that has increased my quality of life in general, and how good my gardens look because of it), and stories about how hard it is that my mom lives on a lake, just a half-mile down the road from me (because I’m basically a crotchety old man inside… one who doesn’t have a lot of patience sometimes, or a lot of experience navigating shared responsibilities with my mom.)

I have stories about how some of the grapevines have finally established, and stories about how (after all of that work and joy) I harvested a bowl full of grapes and then let them all go to waste in my fridge because I was too busy with work to do anything with them…

I have stories about how I feel I’m not doing right by the farm, because I spend a few of my after-hours hours at the gym instead of at home. Stories about how, at this stage in life, a career can override a lot of your passions (because let’s be honest, unless you’re very, very lucky, a career will pay for far more of your mortgage than passions.) But also stories about how my passions have been the catalyst for some of the best, strongest connections I’ve made with amazing people in my adult life, and how I struggle to make time for them. (Both the passions and the amazing people.)

I have stories about the internet which, through this website, was once one of the best and most energizing parts of me.. and now has now become one of the worst distractors from the things I love to do. I have stories about how building a non-traditional life by myself–without compromise–has been one of the best decisions of my life. And I have stories about how I’ve failed. How, because I love the life I’ve built so much, I haven’t taken chances. Stories about how living that non-traditional life has both provided unique opportunities for connecting with people, and also prevented me for connecting with people in the way people who live more traditional lives do.

I spend a lot of time every day looking for the kind of stories that used to inspire me, that I used to feel a connection with, that made me think, “hell yeah, that’s not perfect, but it’s awesome, and it makes me want to do the same.” And I don’t find them. I find a lot of people trying to be “influencers” (I have never hated a word more in my life), a lot of people who have genuine stories to tell who are more worried about the searchability of their blog posts, or the clickbait in their titles.

I mean, seriously? Screw a world in which we cannot say a true thing in a true way because if we tell an authentic story in an authentic way A SEARCH ENGINE MAY NOT FIND IT AND DISTRIBUTE IT TO THE MASSES.

I am, in general, uninspired. (And, if we’re being honest, also jealous of the kids who have found their niche building things and doing what they love on Instagram. I appreciate them, their creativity, their free spirits…  but not as much as I’ve appreciated health insurance and a 401k in the past which makes me? Old and lame? Probably.)

I realize this sounds like the the end of this website. And maybe it is? Except I clearly have a lot of stories I’d still like to tell. Things I would still like to share about the farm, and my projects (when I have the time for them.) It’s just that there was time where sharing them on this website made more sense in the world, and in my life, than it does now. And, honestly, I haven’t sorted it out. I don’t even have time to sort it out. I just have time to write half-finished blog posts… to think half-finished thoughts about my current life, but not to share them. (Except this one, which I promised myself I wouldn’t sleep until I published.)

And maybe, maybe telling the truth about all of this will unlock the part of me that just can’t figure out how the hell to tell a good story right now. To share in this new world of sharing. Sometimes just saying “I don’t know” gives you permission to just speak about what you do know, or what you’re questioning, or what you think you know but will probably realize you’re wrong about later, and maybe that’s all I’m asking for.

But in any case… if it takes me a week, or a month, or a year, or ten years to tell my next good story, this sure has been an amazing ride. Not just the sharing in general, but sharing it with all of you. Thank you for being a part of my story.

  Kit

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Everything about women fashion

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The latest Moto phone feels like it's fighting you to defend its design ideas

A month ago, I explored a brilliant cushion. Aside from being agreeable, it followed my fretfulness amid the night, measured my wheezing, woke me with its quiet alert, even played music through its implicit speakers. It was cool and distinctive, and I played around with it.

It was additionally a keen pad. I'd need to put some distance between reality to think a great many people require one today.

The Moto Z is that brilliant pad, just in telephone shape. It's a gadget I've delighted in utilizing for as far back as two weeks. It's ravishing, capable, and genuinely innovative. Motorola, alongside its parent organization Lenovo, is without a doubt focused on its vision of a premium cell phone that is both measured and strikingly thin. As it were, I respect that.

At that point reality sets in, and I understand exactly how convoluted that vision is the point at which the telephone is out of a commentator's hands, and under the control of somebody who simply burned through $620 to make it her fundamental gadget for the following two years.

The Moto Z offers out to accomplish its outline objectives. In doing as such, it raises a variety of disturbances that can make the telephone feel like it's battling you to guard its thoughts. Likewise, the bezel's too enormous, and Motorola's tumbled off a bluff with regards to programming refreshes.

Actually, I've utilized the Verizon-just Moto Z Droid amid this period, yet beside some bloatware, that is the same as the opened model Motorola arrangements to discharge later this mid year. (There's additionally a Moto Z Force, which is bigger and pricier, with a more grounded camera and a "shatterproof" show.) For any situation, this is what I've found.

What's great about the Moto Z

- It feels like a leader. When I say "strikingly thin," I would not joke about this. The distinction between the Moto Z's 0.2-inch casing and Samsung's 0.31-inch Galaxy S7 won't not seem like much, but rather it's substantial when it's in your grasp. Joined with the smooth steel back and adjusted aluminum edges, the entire bundle falls off like a $600 gadget you'd need to flaunt.

Despite the fact that it's light, it's no toy or apparatus. Yes, the camera knock on the back will captivate, yet for me, it just included character. It's truly amongst this and the Galaxy S7 edge in the domain of flawless Android telephones.

Moto Z

The Lenovo Moto Z.Tech Insider/Jeff Dunn

- It's a powerhouse. The Moto Z keeps running on the standard specs from a 2016 lead — i.e., a 2.15GHz Snapdragon 820 chip and 4GB of RAM — and it has no issues with power subsequently. Applications stack rapidly, multitasking is a breeze, web perusing is fine, and there's no amusement you can't play.

In the event that anything, my benchmark tests had the Moto running marginally speedier than the Galaxy S7, likely on account of its lighter programming skin. In any case, you won't need to stress over execution here.

- The show's awesome! It's a 5.5-inch OLED show with a determination of 2560 x 1440, which is still bounty sufficiently sharp for any non-VR require. In spite of the fact that its whites are a squeeze on the somewhat blue side, it's similarly as dynamic and profoundly beautiful as any great OLED show ought to be. Splendor and review points aren't the best, yet they're more than fine. Once more, you get what you pay for.

- The camera's great, as well. I wouldn't put the 13-megapixel unit here on the level of the Galaxy S7, yet it's not horribly far away. It snaps rapidly, keeps things stable, and does well to not lose control of shine or white adjust. There's an unequivocal loss of detail when you go from great light to low light, obviously, yet and still, at the end of the day it's not the most noticeably bad. The 5-megapixel camera on the front is bounty respectable too. These aren't things you'd make a special effort for, a la the Galaxy telephones, however they're a decent reward.

- If you purchase opened, Motorola's thought on Android is as easy to use as it gets. Outside of Verizon's interfering — more in a moment — Motorola keeps on making a fabulous showing with regards to of adding to Android in valuable routes without changing the look and feel of it. The "Moto Display" include, which flashes the time and your warnings at whatever point you wave your hand via telephone's front, is something each telephone ought to have, and having the capacity to dispatch the camera just by curving the gadget is incredible.

On the off chance that you need to disregard all that, you can, and it's pretty much a similar Android 6.0 Marshmallow you'd find on a Nexus telephone. There's nothing truly new here, however I'll take that over another Android OEM making a decent attempt to mark an officially good thing.

Moto Z and Moto Mods

The Lenovo Moto Z and its Moto Mod.Tech Insider/Jeff Dunn

- There are no capacity issues. The Moto Z accompanies either 32 GB or 64 GB as a matter of course, and you can mean 256 GB through a microSD opening on the telephone's top. That is a lot of capacity. What's more, not at all like the Galaxy S7, the telephone can regard that additional capacity as though it were a piece of the telephone itself, permitting it to work all the more easily with generally applications.

- The "Moto Mod" connections simply work. The "measured quality" part of the Moto Z gets from its Moto Mods, an arrangement of independently sold embellishments that are particularly intended to append to the attractive arrangement of pins on the telephone's back. There's an outside speaker from JBL, a modest bunch of battery cases, a couple "Style Shell" spreads, and, yes, a pocket projector. LG took a stab at something comparable with its G5 telephone prior this year, however I can't push enough how much better the thought is actualized here. You simply snatch your thing and pop it on. It takes close to a moment, and after a fast onscreen walkthrough, everything works.

At whatever point Google or any other individual tries this later on, this unadulterated convenience will be the standard by which they're judged. Measured quality is energizing however it's anything but difficult to make overpowering. Here, it's well done.

What's terrible about the Moto Z

- No one ought to really purchase any of those connections. There's a major contrast between being all around composed and being pragmatic. How about we go one by one:

Burning through $60 on a 2,200mAh battery case that can't completely revive your telephone is imbecilic when more grounded $20 battery packs exist.

Burning through $80 on a speaker connection that works with one gadget and undertakings sound far from you is idiotic when Bluetooth speakers exist.

Burning through $300 on a projector that washes out pictures and maxes at a grainy 480p is moronic constantly.

The Style Shells are for the most part innocuous at $20 a pop, yet dislike they include any security. They, such as everything else, likewise detract from the telephone's slimness.

It's significant that Motorola's propelled a Moto Mods Development Kit, which permits anybody to hack up their own traps, however it stays to be checked whether the Moto Z can scrounge up enough enthusiasm to make that a valuable thing for the masses.

At this moment, this thought on seclusion is fun and simple, additionally a truly costly approach to bolt yourself into one biological community, with a pack of gadgets that aren't great esteem. The shape is sound, however the capacity needs work.

Moto Z speaker

The JBL SoundBoost Moto Mod.Tech Insider/Jeff Dunn

- There are precisely zero quick advantages to dumping the earphone jack. I expounded on this finally a week ago, so I'll save you yet another furious audiophile tirade. All I'll say is that I can at any rate observe why the iPhone may discard the 3.5mm connector — Apple has an exceptionally effective history of vertical reconciliation. Furthermore, Lightning earphones are as of now a thing. USB-C earphones, be that as it may, are most certainly not. Unless you're down with Bluetooth, you're screwed over thanks to a dongle, one that I've effectively lost numerous circumstances. This feels each piece like Lenovo bouncing on the temporary fad to look ground breaking, paying little heed to regardless of whether there's any substance to the choice. The telephone isn't water-safe. It's recently more slender. It looks incredible, yet style have a method for blurring when they make your life harder.

- Related: Take a speculate what motivates slice to make a telephone this thin. Yes, it's battery life. You know, the one thing everybody needs a greater amount of. That unquenchable hunger for slimness chops the Moto Z's battery down to 2,600mAh — with Android, that implies you must be more moderate than expected to traverse an entire day. Regardless you can, however in the event that you're on it constantly, it's harder. The telephone charges rapidly over USB-C, yet the charger that accompanies the gadget doesn't have a separable link, which is repulsive. Much more dreadful, the Moto Mod battery pack doesn't have a port for charging independently.

- The unique finger impression scanner's sort of a wreck. It certainly works, however it's excessively delicate. That is not incredible when it's on the front of the telephone, as opposed to recessed in a more characteristic spot on the back.

- It likewise makes the base bezel tremendous. This wouldn't be as large an arrangement if the scanner acted as a home catch, yet it doesn't. Rather, you have a bezel sufficiently huge to join that and a Moto logo sitting underneath the typical programming catches. A 5.5-inch show is sufficiently enormous as it may be, so it's protected to state that this telephone isn't agreeable to use with one hand.

- It can run hot. It's not sufficiently terrible to be a noteworthy issue, but rather it seemed to require less push to raise the Moto Z's temperature than what's run of the mill. Flip on a more included amusement, and that steel back will get warm after a short time.

Moto Z projector

The Moto Insta-Share Projector.Tech Insider/Jeff Dunn

- Verizon. I haven't met another human who's energetically utilized VZ Navigator. You haven't either. Still, there it is in the Moto Z Droid's application plate, appropriate nearby another dozen or so bits of bloatware. They're all useless — possibly the NFL Mobile application aside — and a modest bunch of them can't be uninstalled. Once more, on the off chance that you can sit tight for the opened variant, do that.

On the in addition to side, Verizon's scope is still extremely solid in the New York zone, and beside an innocuous logo on the camera module, it doesn't mark the equipment by any stretch of the imagination.

- Motorola won't focus on month to month security patches, and it's lost its reputati