#i say i ''miss'' sk but like... i return to it every year or two lol

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Random anime/manga recommendations (good oldies!) I have for y'all just bc I love them and hope you would too! also I just want to talk about them bc I love and miss them all!!!

In the list:

Hikaru no Go

Shaman King

Loveless

Yami no Matsuei

Yu Yu Hakusho

Hikaru no Go:

it's about the board game Go but I promise it's so much more heavy than that and the character interaction/development is top tierrrr. also one of the only series that made me bawl like a dumb baby. also!!! you get to watch the characters GROW UP!!! from tiny baby faces to grown teenagers!!! and the fun of it is that while you watch/read, you don't even notice it happening!!! you just look back and go holy shit they were literal BABIES!!!

85 episodes and one OVA, but the OVA only covers half of the final arc, which is manga only. very faithful to the manga otherwise though.

Shaman King:

uhhh okay hear me out you gotta like, read the manga first or watch the 2001 anime first, then do the other one. then you can read the spinoffs. then you can read the sequel if you feel like it but it's more second gen esque and has been off and on for many years, long story, and it's also cut into two different names, long story, but it's flowers and the super star.

once you've read the manga and watched the 2001 anime, the 2021 anime is the remake of the 2001 anime bc the 2001 anime was concluded bc the manga was on hiatus and had caught up to the source material, so they did an anime only ending while sprinkling in bits and pieces of canon into that. the remake was insanely rushed though and cut a lot of content (including a majority of my favorite characters' content which was already low!!!) and super cut corners so imo it's really not a replacement for the manga, hence why I suggest the manga first.

some ppl have said watching the 2001 anime after the manga kinda made the anime feel less great overall bc of the anime only direction it had to take (if it hadn't, it would've ended up like naruto with filler and if y'all were there for that ride, uhhh... never again lmao), so it may be a better experience to watch it first then read the manga.

the anime is aaaaalmost completely faithful (some changes and alterations, but mainly ones that were meant to develop the main characters more and quicker) up until around episode 25, and then it starts getting... timeline-wonky but does follow canon. it just follows the events somewhat incorrectly, put in anime only aspects and swapped things around. after that point, when the characters reach the Patch Village, it's all basically anime only from there with the very final arc sprinkling in some manga only stuff.

anime ending is pretty standard shounen unfortunately, but the manga's ending was a breath of fresh air where it actually follows its themes and story beats right to the end.

that said, the original series is completed. the sequel is... ongoing... sometimes... when it's not blocked by a wall of hiatus bc of the magazine it gets into going under like every single magazine it goes into... but if you don't care for the sequel (understandable tho since it's very different!) that's not a problem. there are tons of spinoffs/side stories though that are both completed and ongoing. there are... a... lot... so basically SK universe is like forever ongoing, but the main series is completed.

** fun fact: hikaru no go and shaman king ran together in shonen jump!

Loveless:

okay so I promise this one is good, but it does feature trigger topics and overall more mature topics.

general premise is hella cringe, cat ppl with cat ears and a tail until they have sex. generally a shounen-ai but there are also het and wlw relationships. older dude claims to be in love with younger dude but it's actually fake and he was just told to say that, so that part goes from cringe to like, actually having backstory.

pretty much a psychological series with side romance (bc as much as it markets itself as romance, there's no "real" romance between the two main characters and the only confirmed pairs are not them). tackles a manipulative, emotionally abusive person who is yandere toward his younger brother, hence tackling more mature and potentially triggering topics. rape is also talked about/implied, though we don't actually see it in explicit detail.

series is complex though and some enemy characters become friendly with the main characters, some just neutral, and some become very close to them. the relationships and dynamics are all amazing though and I love how the more mature topics are handled (tastefully, in other words. it doesn't make light of them and gives depth to the characters) and how the main villain is handled. some more morally gray leaning villainish without being a villain characters are there too.

unfortunate parts of this is that the anime is only like 12 or 13 episodes and was never brought back. worse part is that volume 13 started and the manga went on indefinite hiatus a very, very, very long time ago and has not been touched since and probably never will be again. still an amazing series, but pretty much in permanent limbo unless the author magically decides to take it up again.

Yami no Matsuei:

uhhh listen it's another shounen-ai BUT it's not just romance. i don't really read purely romance series and always need substance and story/plot.

uhhh listen this one's kinda difficult to explain but basically it's a group of dudes who are detective-like ppl who are all actually dead and they get partners assigned who are also dead. villain is batshit nuts.

story can be pretty heavy on the romance/one-sided romance and stuff, but that didn't deter me.

also, talking bird buddies.

as above, the unfortunate parts are one season of about 13 episodes and not picked back up, and the manga is on indefinite hiatus and probably will not continue.

Yu Yu Hakusho:

uhhh you all probably at least know the premise of this one but im gonna come out and say it!!! ...watch the jp dub. promise. i know ppl say the dub was good but. i don't. rly feel that way??? despite growing up with the dub??? and also the sub sounds better to me???

anyway watch this series (or read it!)! :D

** fun fact again!: this series also ran with hng and sk in shonen jump!

[vexillumalbum]

Hi hi!!!! I saw your requests open, would it be okay to have a fluff of Ikevamp Shakespeare with a pregnant MC? If you're uncomfortable with him, maybe for Leonardo?

Hello, Anon! Sorry for the wait, like I said, I have a lot of things on my mind now, I hope you don’t mind it being so late. 

I wanted to write it with Shakespeare, I really did, but when I started I really couldn’t think of anything neat. I had only a few stupid ideas and I didn’t want to butcher his character up like that. So I went with Leonardo. 

Hope you enjoy and love you all! 

Btw, when I asked my boyfriend what color are Leo’s eyes he said “yellow” and I wanted him to be a little bit more specific so he said “Sunflower petal at 2:56 PM with 57% cloud cover on October 14th of the leap year.”. Yeah I love this man

“You’re gonna be a father” with Leonardo da Vinci 

It was a warm autumn day when you came back from the town, nervous and uncertain about the future. The garden was covered with colorful leaves heralding the onset of winter cooling and despite the fact that both you and Sebastian successively plundered them, the strong wind characteristic of this time of year still was blowing them around the property constantly. 

You clutched the paper in your hands as you were searching for Leonardo to give him the news. All the way back from your doctor visit you wondered if you should have talked right away or waited, and although both sides had their pros and cons, you knew your boyfriend would have guessed himself if you hadn't told him. 

After all, he was The Master of All Trades and reading you was definitely one of them.

You found him in the gazebo, napping on one of the benches, surrounded by books and metal parts, like clockwork. You couldn't help smiling at the vampire snoring peacefully in the warm light of the setting sun lurking from behind the clouds. His handsome features seemed to be softer under the warm streaks and he somehow appeared to be younger. 

A few deep breaths later you came up to him, but before you could even touch him to gently wake him from his sleep, a large warm hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you to the man making you sit on his lap. 

“What are you sneaking like that for, cara mia?” He didn’t even open his eyes as he brought his face to you hair and inhaled your scent.

“I wasn’t sneaking!” You huffed slightly hitting him on his study chest with your palm. “You need to stop falling asleep here, you might catch a cold.”

You didn’t even know if vampires could get sick (after all you haven’t seen any of the residents  become ill in the years of living with them) but you also didn’t think a vampire would be able to get human pregnant and here you were, so…

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious!” Another light tap of your hand against his body was made before you inhaled deeply and clutched the paper in your other hand even tighter. He chuckled still having his eyes closed. “I actually came here to tell you something important.”

“And what would that be?” 

“I think I’m pregnant.”

In an instant his eyes snapped open and his roasted honey-colored irises have found yours. Oh wow I think you've found a way to quickly wake Leo out of his nap

“No, actually, I’m sure I’m pregnant.” You continued after a few seconds silence between you interrupted only by the howling of the wind. “I missed two periods in a row and today I went to confirm it and... here you can see everything the doctor said. I asked for a short note for… the child's father.” You thrusted a piece of paper into Leonardo’s hand and watched as he slowly opened it and examined the inside. 

You were sure he was able to hear how loudly your heart was beating as you were waiting for a response from him. You coughed trying to get yourself together but it really didn’t work. Immediately afterwards his gaze returned to you again.

“So that means we’re gonna be parents?” 

“Yeah, that’s usually how pregnancy works.”

Strong arms surrounded your body and after a while you found yourself hugged tightly to  vampire's warm chest. He chuckled quietly making you giggle yourself. His lips left a few kisses on top of your head, and somewhere between them you heard the quiet whispered, "Grazie, cara mia,” and you couldn't stop the tears of happiness anymore.

Throughout your pregnancy, Leonardo tried to avoid smoking cigars around you (and in general), which previously had seemed easier to him than it really was. Ask Comte about how many times he had to hear complaints from his friend that he could not light his favorite cigar before bedtime. But every night he reminded himself that he was doing it for you and his soon-to-be-born child and this (plus a few of your sweet kisses to his pouty face) was enough for him to keep trying.

The Renaissance man he was, he decided to make all the furniture for the child's room by himself. Cradle, cot, changing table, wardrobe - you said something, he immediately had a project and materials to do it. Often you found him sleeping among the boards and tools tired after another day of furniture assembly. In moment like this you regretted not having a camera

You didn't want him to give up numerous trips to the town he liked so much (even though it was his original plan, after all he wanted to be sure that his cara mia was well looked after), so you asked Comte to help you convince Leo, that you were doing great without his constant presence. He finally agree upon condition that every other resident would make sure you were alright and Count himself would do everything in his power to ensure your safety.

Often, you were in the kitchen late in the evening when the cravings didn't let you sleep. Leonardo tried to fill every whim, but when you once again asked for a chocolate cake he had to intervene.

“I don’t think that much chocolate is good for you and the baby, stella mia.”

“I don’t think that a grumpy old man is also good for me or the baby so give me my cake, Leonardo, or you’re gonna be sleeping in the cat bed with Lumiere!”

Needless to say you got your dessert that night.

Sometimes, when you were suspended between sleep and reality, you felt Leo’s hand gently caressing your stomach. 

The vampire’s seen a lot in his life; he witnessed the birth and death of many people, and long ago learned to distance himself from all feelings related to the perception of the passing of life. However, when he looked at you and the life growing inside you - his child - all these feelings returned to him and flooded his mind with doubts. 

Were you sure you wanted to have a family with him of all? Were you ready to watch your child grow only to a certain point and then stop because of having vampire blood flowing through their veins? Was he ready for that? What if it worked another way and he would have to watch your child dying of age or illness because the half-vampire half-human child would not be immortal like him? No parent should have to go through this.

But when you, in a sleepy voice full of love, told him how much you loved him and how much you could not wait for the birth of your child as you cuddled up to him, Leonardo knew that everything was worth it and he wouldn’t have traded it for anything else.

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

[rocky-maneo]

Big Girls Don’t Cry [self-para]

“Interesting that you think of it that way,” the lowlife chuckled, blood staining his teeth and seeping onto his lips.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Rocky droned in a bored tone, her hands busy with ejecting the clip out of the gun covered in his blood. As she began to empty the clip, the sharp clink of metal clashing onto the pavement below, she continued. “You talk so much, but say nothing.”

“Oh, little one, I think I’m saying quite enough.”

Her gaze fell to him before she lifted her foot, pressing the bottom of her Doc Martin’s into his forehead with some force. “Shut up.”

Another chuckle fell from his lips as he spit up more blood. “You beat the shit out of me for answers yet you haven’t gotten the answer you need.”

She rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight to her grounded foot, forcefully pushing down his face into the cement ground, his face scraping against it slightly from the impact. “Then start talking.”

“Do you trust a word I say?”

“I trust you about as much as I trust a weather report. I’m taking it with a grain of salt, dickbrain. Now what do you need to tell me? Spit it out.”

Her Korean pronunciation was starting to suffer terribly. Her anger was palpable, rolling off of her like tidal waves building just out beyond the shoreline as she stood over him pressing his face further into the cement ground beneath them. He chuckled again, sighing in what seemed to be a delighted tone. “You and me, we aren’t that much different from one another.”

“Don’t think for one second I won’t use your face to wipe birdshit off this pavement. We are nothing alike.”

“You really have no idea what happened all that time ago? You weren’t all that young then.”

“If you keep saying a bunch of shit instead of just saying what you were going to hours ago, I will literally leave you to bleed out in your car,” she said, her voice laced with every ounce of promise she could convey. When she finally worked her way to one bullet left in the clip, she inserted it and locked it.

There was a lengthy pause after the clip clicked into place as she locked it, one that almost made her wonder if the scum beneath her boot was still conscious. “Little girl--”

“I’m not little.”

“Little girl--”

Digging the heel of her boot into his cheek, she ignored the slight pop she felt. “I’m not little, piece of shit.”

“At least my mother didn’t sell me for a plot of land and a pocket full of 50 bhat.”

The world did not end with a bang, or a whisper, but rather, one silent scream at time. 

One hundred deafeningly quiet screams. Ones that kept her awake; ones that echoed through the hallway of every memory kept locked away, refusing to leave.

For Rocky, her world ended at twelve. The rest of her long life would serve as a timekeeper to that dog-eared moment in time. She would never be anything more than a kitsune who was sold to a bidder who then sold her to wealthy families who desired “pets” as another trophy in their trophy case. 

Returning to Thailand was a goal of Rocky’s. The country she hardly knew but was always reduced to while living abroad. 

It was far less beautiful than she remembered. Perhaps industrialization and the push to modernize had taken some of its charm away. Or maybe it was a romanticized land where things were ideal as a coping mechanism for how shitty everything after Thailand seemed to be. The life of complete solitude, subjugation and an anger that only seemed to worsen the longer she breathed--her home was always seen as a paradise whenever she reverted back to her life before she was trafficked.

It was a life of freedom, childish wonder, and playing along the canal. Naive to the world’s harsh realities. A paradise just based off of that.

However, as she made her way through the dirt roads outside Phuket’s city center and the rush of noisy tourists seemed to paint an entirely different picture altogether. She was nearing the stretch of lands owned by several resorts and private luxury realtors. From the information she gathered, she had important business at the Marina Cove Resort, one of the largest resorts in the area.

Rocky knew it was tricky, banking on all this intel to be accurate and correct. Deep down, she still wasn’t sure she could trust the Chinese trafficker who seemingly was still in contact with her mother. She wasn’t entirely sold. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to look into it herself. With his information and a little digital digging, she figured out a few more pieces to the puzzle that prompted her to book a flight to Thailand. Information such as her still working at a resort, changing her name to Rita and how she was now married to a realtor in Phuket.

It was amazing to her, how drastically her mother’s life had changed over the century. She went from a tin shack along the canals of Phuket, working as a housekeeper at two resorts and a woman who lost her daughter for god knows what reason to a wife who was well off and worked for one resort in their catering department. Just the thought of it made the bile bubble at the back of her throat.

Hours later, she meandered into the resort. Strolling with confidence up to the desk with a stolen credit card that she claimed was her father’s, she checked into her reserved room under a completely fake name. Weeks ago, she set this up. As soon as she learned about her mother’s new position at Marina Cove, the tech-savvy girl worked to get as much information about her normal routine as possible. There was a morbid sort of interest for the young kitsune. While she could honestly hear that same statement resonating at the back of her head, the one from the Chinese trafficker who revealed she was sold, not stolen, there was still a part of her that missed the woman. Something irrational within her brought up those nostalgic feelings and it made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

That night brought no easy dreams. In fact, she felt sick at one point, so sick, she barely made it to the toilet in time to spew the contents of her skimpy dinner. A mere reminder that she wasn’t well off 95 years later. Even after all of these years of independence, Rocky still didn’t make a whole lot of money and ended up stealing money in order to afford the airplane ticket. The hotel room was stolen too. Meanwhile, it seemed after a day of following her mother, she was doing well for herself. She worked as a catering liaison at the resort and helped potential clients explore their options for holding weddings, birthdays, family reunions, etc. at the resort. She had a nice comfy life with her new husband and that was both comforting and sickening all at the same time.

After a night where she barely slept, she used that morning to tail her mother. In shorts, a crop top and sandals, looking foolish in her opinion, she followed at a sizable distance. She watched as she gave a site tour to a potential wedding party. The way she beamed and raved about all the great food packages that came with the event space was entrancing. 

She looked nothing like her, Rocky thought with a nauseating realization. Nose shapes, full lips, eyes--all of it looked so different when she compared herself to the older kitsune. She got almost nothing from her mother and that made her jaw flex as she watched her mother throw her head back as she laughed at the groom’s unfunny joke. She seemed so confident as she continued the tour, giving specifications on all the ballrooms and the reception area for said ballrooms. Her mother wasn’t as tall as her, she noted. Perhaps a trait passed on by her other parent--the mysterious person she never knew. Her mother’s short arms extended and it only prompted the young kitsune to look at her own long limbs.

Another thing she seemed to not pick up from her mother was the cheerful disposition. She seemed so content and happy as she walked around. And sure, that could just be her front-facing demeanor with prospective clients, but there was a gut feeling within Rocky that told her she was happy. Happier than she ever remembered her before.

In this moment, with the sun creating a perfect halo of light around her, it was easy for her to forget those words that stuck like glue in the back of her head.

“She knew what was coming and weighed out what was more important. Guess you didn’t make the cut, sweetheart.”

Those words were like a stain. The harder she scrubbed at it, to erase it from her memory and cling to a memory that she was stolen, ripped from her mother’s side, the deeper it set in. The more it set in, the less she could pretend like those words didn’t hurt. For the last twenty years, Rocky tried her hardest to understand why her mother would give her up. Sure, they were dirt poor and lived in a tin shack along the canals. They had nothing but each other. But that wasn’t so terrible, was it? Difficult, and, perhap most of the time it was trying, but that was hardly a reason to just give one’s child away. No matter how much she tried to rationalize it in her head, the kitsune came up with no justifiable reason as to what happened.

Following her mother led the raven-haired woman to a beautiful and sleek mansion just outside the resort area. Secluded, private and easy access for a girl used to breaking into any and everything. Her mother lived in a house made of stucco or similar solid material. No metal to be seen. The roof looked to be sturdy and without holes. A dream of a house and better than her sub-basement apartment back in Gwangju.

It was even harder to deny the words from the Chinese trafficker when she saw the lush and beautiful landscape surrounding the sprawling estate. The home looked gorgeous with the tropical backdrop. Modern and chic in every way. For her to have gone from rags to this, it only seemed to feed into the idea that maybe she did have to give Rocky up in order to have all of this. Another sickening turn in her stomach made her nearly spew the entire contents of her stomach, blood simmering just there beneath her skin.

The stakeout taught her a few things. She owned a vehicle. A very nice foreign brand. An Astin Martin actually. Her husband was tall and a little older with completely gray hair. He wore a bespoke suit that first time she laid eyes on him. He was somewhat handsome and pale. Almost looked foreign. He drove a Porsche. He seemed to treat her well in the few hours she could stomach observing. It must’ve been nice to find love after all these years. Probably most shocking of all was just how serene everything was. From her vantage point in a tree near the house, everything looked like it had a place and nothing was out of that designated spot. Blindingly clean, white cabinets in the kitchen, pristine dark wood floors, stainless steel counter tops that gleamed when the light hit it just right.

A perfectly secluded escape tucked away in Thai jungle.

Just as she determined she’d seen all she could take for the day, another set of headlights bobbed and flashed as the car pulled into the driveway to the house. Curiosity was getting the best of the young kitsune, and so she stayed there, perched between branches, her back uncomfortably digging into the rough bark of the tree as her eyes focused in on the final car. It came to a full stop and parked behind her mother’s Astin Martin. The last bit she saw of her mother and her new husband, they weren’t in any clothes to receive guests at this hour and it was rapidly getting darker. Her mind tried to rack over who would be arriving this late to a house they didn’t live in with people who looked like they were settling in for the evening, but she was coming up blank.

So, she just decided to watch and see what happened.

A man dressed in casual clothing hopped out of the car to open the passenger-side backseat door. Rocky was so engrossed in the mystery of who would emerge from the car, she didn’t notice how far she was leaning forward or that she was holding her breath. Her eyes narrowed as she saw a short leg peek from the bottom of the car door. Soon, it was a mess of jet black hair. With a tan leather backpack slung over his tiny shoulders, Rocky watched in silent confusion as a teenage boy emerged from the backseat. Who was this?

A shrill laugh sounded from somewhere and her head whipped around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. But by the time she turned to face the car once again, she found a second kid crawling from the backseat and pushing the older and taller boy. It was a small girl with her hair in a ponytail, her school uniform an absolute mess of wrinkles and what looked to be dirt on her skirt. Bone straight jet black hair almost identical to the bob she had when she was younger, she watched as a thin preteen arose from the car. She had to be a preteen. As they bickered among themselves, Rocky realized she didn’t know enough Thai anymore to keep up. A language she’d long forgotten to make room for the Korean language she used on a daily basis.

Who the fuck are they? 

She stayed there in that tree, watching the children bicker as they moved around the car, thanking the man for the ride and handing off an envelope to him. As they waved the car back out of the driveway and onto the private road leading back to the dirt road she walked along to make it to the estate, she watched a porch light illuminate the back deck of the house. The soft light guided the two back toward the house and as they continued to bicker lightning fast between the two of them. At the door was Rocky’s mother, smiling fondly as she scooped them both into a hug, ruffling the younger girl’s hair.

Dumbstruck and unable to process the image before her, the young kitsune straightened her rigid torso as she continued to watch the interaction. Kissing both kids at the crown of their heads, she laughed when the younger one jumped around excitedly, her backpack spilling the entire contents of the bag onto the wooden deck. 

Who the fuck are they?

Her keen hearing picked up one word in all the flurry of indecipherable Thai. It was one of the few Thai words she remembered. 

Maa.

The chill that ran through her was bewildering. It started at the top of her scalp and only descended at the slowest of paces. As if someone was pouring a bucket of ice water on her but instead of a splash, it was a steady trickle. Her eyes bore into the two children and her mother who was still helping pick up the fallen paper. She said something about dinner, but Rocky wasn’t able to pick up much else, her hearing beginning to turn fuzzy. Her vision blurred, unable to sharply focus on anything in front of her. Why would they call her mom? Why would they go up and hug her like that? Why would she be waiting for their return? Did those children live at the house?

The answer to those questions was obvious, but she couldn’t help but fight that possibility. There’s no way her mother had children. There’s no way Rocky had siblings for...at least ten years without her knowing. No. She was ripped from her mother, never reunited, despite possible efforts made on her mother’s part. No. She wouldn’t have children of her own after something so traumatic, right? 

Right.

[apveng]

Kara Oh Kara

Here is the fourth part of my story. The first part, Khao-Shuh, is here. Second part, Why Do You Need Supergirl, Anyways?, is here. The third, She Is Not Kara, Damn It, is here.

*********************************************************************************

“That was so much fun. I had missed this.” She heard Barry say before pausing and adding. “Ugh! I mean, of course you are not… you know…”.

“It is okay.” S’lynn assured him, her voice full of sympathy. “It happens.”

Alex sighed and shook her head. They are not supposed to be talking so openly about

that which shall not be voiced

. A good thing they were in the lab and she had made sure it was completely bug proof.

Barry didn’t wait around for long before he left. It must be hard for all of them-- Barry, Kate and everyone else--to work with S’lynn and realise how good she is at imitating their friend.

She was working day and night—at least whatever time she could steal from Hope—on SK to spare them as much pain as she could. She was already halfway through. She had tested her solution on a few of M’gann’s troops and so far, the failure rate was 30%. Some aspects of the test’s criteria are working. She just needed to finetune the others.

If only M’gann, for reasons beyond Alex’s comprehension, hadn’t pulled S’lynn from the project a couple of days back. M’gann had said that S’lynn’s involvement as a test subject would be a drag on the league’s activities as well as on SK. Yet, strangely enough, there didn’t seem to be any reduction in the time S’lynn spent with her.

No, not with her. But in the lab.

Alex let out a long breath.

Whatever.

She had gone through two weeks of this and she would be able to do a few more. And, since her revelation last week, it had been easy for her to just tune out S’lynn unless she was getting some data from her. Even when working closely together, it was easy now to see her as just another colleague.

“Ouch!”

“Alex, what happened?” S’lynn was by her side in an instant, looking at her bleeding palm in alarm.

The expression tugged at her heart.

She is not Kara, Danvers. Focus.

“It is just a small cut.” She answered. “And, it is my fault. I had brought that knife to check for something and forgot to put it back.”

“It is okay. You are working so hard.” S’lynn said in that soothing voice Kara employed all the times Alex had been hurt.

Oh, Rao! Not again.

“Do you want me to call Brainy? I mean, Director Dox?”

“What? No. I can take care of this.” Alex replied absently as she examined her palm. “Just do as I direct.”

“Okay.”

To her surprise, S’lynn pulled on a pair of gloves—no, not one pair, but two—before helping her with the cut. She hadn’t known her new colleague was a germaphobe. And, when did she get the first aid kit?

Alex eyed S’lynn as she tied up the bleeding palm.

What was with the look on her face?

That concerned expression was so Kara, it hurt. And, not the concern Kara had for other people either. No, this was the look Kara reserved for Alex.

How had she figured that out?

S’lynn was wearing gloves, so Alex couldn’t even touch the bare skin to ground herself. Thankfully, after her revelation last week, there had been only a couple of times when she had needed that. Not any in the past couple of days. Now, her winning streak seemed to be over.

S’lynn stepped back from her. “How does it feel?”

Alex looked at her hand. “Well, I am okay, now.” She examined her colleague with something akin to admiration. “I didn’t know you were a medic as well.” The first aid had been administered with the expert hands of a physician or a nurse. Surprising given S’lynn’s obvious discomfort with touching a bloody hand.

S’lynn coloured and murmured. “I learnt quite a lot of things on the field.” She moved away to fiddle at a microscope at the other end of the lab.

Great! Now, how am I going to touch her?

With a sigh, Alex returned to her work. She would just have to find some other way to deal with her unease. May be, this was for the best. She was getting too used to having a real-time temperature (and heart if she was honest) check. It was time she got over it.

Hopefully, there won’t be many more of these episodes in the next couple of weeks. By then, they would be ready to root out infiltrators and from there, it should be a short path to freedom.

**********************************************************************************

“She is so like Kara, it is unbelievable.”

Alex looked over at where S’lynn was playing with Hope, Nia, Brainy and Maeve’s five-year old, Aram. They were all at Kelly and Jaya’s for a game night. J’onn and M’gann had insisted and ignored all of Alex’s protests. Apparently, it was necessary for their cover.

“Yeah?” She poured herself a glass of coke and, for the first time in years, wished that it was something stronger. “Well, I find it very easy to tell them apart. I told you Kel.”

She couldn’t keep her eyes on her daughter playing with the stranger. It hurt too much. If she had been sensible, it might have been Kara.

Because of her, Kara will never see Hope; Hope will never get to grow up in the comforting arms of one of the best people in the universe.

Kelly reached over and took the glass Jaya poured her. “Yes, Alex. You told me. She doesn’t look at you the way Kara looks at you.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I have seen the way Kara looks at you.” She shrugged. “And, I didn’t see a difference tonight.”

Alex grimaced. “I am sorry, Kel.”

“Come on.” Kelly said squeezing her shoulder. “Water under the bridge. That is not my point. The point is, I can’t tell them apart.”

Alex laughed. “She has been training, that is why. Besides, who knows Kara best, you or I?”

Jaya touched Kelly. “If you guys were hoping to fool anyone, you aren’t doing a great job of it. Discussing confidential details so openly, really honey?” She rubbed Kelly’s shoulder and murmured something into her ear.

Whatever she said, Kelly changed the subject. Thank God!

Alex’s eyes moved to observe J’onn and M’gann. They were sitting with Will and Andrea, chatting and talking; occasionally calling out a word to the others. It gladdened Alex’s heart to see them so happy in each other’s company. At least, something good came out of this fiasco.

As she watched, J’onn called over something to Nia and then stood up. “Alright everyone. We are here for game night, so let us start.” He smiled down first at S’lynn—who looked a bit too excited for Alex’s taste—and then at the kids. “The kids are waiting.”

Alex wondered at his obvious affection for S’lynn. It wasn’t pretense. She could see that.

They must have known each other from Mars.

“I pick Querl.” Nia said before anybody could say anything. “And Jaya.”

“Will and I are a team. And pick Aram as our third.” Andrea declared. Before Alex could get a word in edgewise, M’gann had picked J’onn and Kelly. She was left with S’lynn and Hope. How had that happened?

“Why are we teaming up as couples?” She protested. “That is not fair, and it is not fun.”

“We are not all couples, Alex.” Andrea pointed out. “You and Kara…”, she barely stumbled at the name, “are not a couple. Neither are J’onn and M’gann.”

S’lynn came over to her and nudged her shoulders. “Come on. It will be fun. I am not a bad partner.”

Alex rolled her eyes. They barely knew each other. What kind of partners would they be?

Hope tugged at her hands. And smiled at her with all the light in the world reflected in her grey eyes. “Kara is wonderful, Mommie. We will win, I am sure. Don’t worry.”

She gave in. “Okay.”

Soon they were seated around the table in the living room, Hope in S’lynn’s lap—refusing Alex’s offer of her own arms (the girl would surely be the death of her)—S’lynn by Alex’s side and everyone else arranged as per their teams.

The first round was going to be a jeopardy style quiz. Each team had to select a member and they had to provide the answer on something related to other members of the team.

Used to the insanity—despite her reticence, she was dragged to one of these nights every few months—Alex tuned out.

Mostly.

She only paid attention when she heard Kelly ask S’lynn, “Alex’s favourite movie.” A lost point, that. She would have to console Hope.

“Terminator III.” S’lynn answered instantly. Alex’s head jerked up at the answer. “How did you know that?”

“What?” S’lynn looked confused, then to Alex’s surprise, fearful.

“How did you know the name of my favourite movie?” Alex asked coolly. She didn’t like her privacy invaded.

“I must have heard it somewhere.” Was the vague answer. Before she could pursue the matter further, J’onn provided the explanation. “I told her Alex. It was best to give her some personal details.”

“Right.” S’lynn bobbed her head vigorously. “J’onn told me.”

Alex threw a glare at J’onn. Hope reached over and pulled at her arm. “Mommie, what is wrong? We won.”

Pushing away her irritation, she smiled at her child. “Yes, precious. We did.”

Alex watched like a hawk as the round went on. S’lynn answered most other answers incorrectly. As did she.

Naturally.

Even J’onn didn’t know everything about her. And, she barely knew S’lynn—Alex had glared every time S’lynn had acted as if Kara’s fact was her fact, so she had wised up and stopped doing that.

By the end, they were trailing others by a hundred points. Hope looked at the verge of tears, though she was valiantly trying to hold them back and comfort S’lynn for her missteps. And cheer Aram whose team had won.

Alex was proud of her daughter.

Eyeing their daughter, Jaya spoke up, smiling. “How about a last question? Aram’s team is of course the winner but may be our team and Hope’s can have a fight for the runner’s up, yes?” She rubbed her palms together. “Let us make the game exciting.”

This was why she liked Jaya. Despite coming into Hope’s life only two years back, Jaya could read Hope just as well as her and Kelly. And had an eye to Hope’s happiness as much as either of them. She couldn’t have wished for a better third mother for Hope.

Of course, that may not help this time, as it was Hope’s turn. And, how much could a five-year old know about her mother? Or, a stranger she has never met before. She prayed for an easy question. Something about her favourite colour, maybe.

Aram looking important, as only a five-year old could, stood up to ask his question. “What was Aunt Alex’s first school project?”

Damn!

Hope looked so sad, S’lynn spoke up. To what end, Alex had no idea. “You know, Aram. That was a great question. Wow!” she smiled at Aram. “Since it is so tough, could you allow Hope a helpful hint?”

“I don’t want a hint.” Hope said her voice determined. “It is not fair.”

The adults didn’t offer an out. Aram, after thinking about it, nodded, his little face full of a child’s generosity. “I am okay with that.” He looked at Hope. “It is only fair, Hope. You helped me last Thursday, remember?”

Bless the kids.

“However, Aunt Alex can’t help.” He added. “You can take help from Kara.” Nia reached over and patted her nephew’s hair. The kid did have a decent sense of justice and fair play.

The trouble though was that, they didn’t have a solution to the problem. Her daughter’s team would still be the loser.

Eh! Nothing to be done about it.

The kid and S’lynn moved away to discuss the answer. Alex couldn’t help an inward grimace at her daughter’s hopeful look. She prepared to comfort the kid, and then sat back stunned as she answered.

“A specimen of Mommie’s cat’s blood that she said was an alien species. Don’t worry Aram.” Hope added seriously. “She didn’t hurt the cat. Just took a few drops of blood from him using a needle and then gave him a sausage afterwards. She also, gave, what is that Kara? Some report.” The kid’s face brightened. “Blood group report. Grandma helped her.”

Alex didn’t catch the rest of what happened. She could only nod, dumbstruck, as Aram looked over at her to verify the answer was correct. The people were talking around her, but she didn’t hear anything.

How did S’lynn know that? J’onn couldn’t have told her. He couldn’t have known that little bit of her history himself.

She felt J’onn’s arm on her shoulder. “Your mother told me once long ago.” He nodded at S’lynn who was swinging an excited hope. “And, I projected the answer to S’lynn just now. I was touching her, remember?”

Breath, and life, returned to Alex. “J’onn, you shouldn’t have. That is cheating. Poor Aram.”

“Aram’s team still wins.” J’onn smiled. “I just didn’t want Hope’s evening ruined. It is just a game Alex. Let them enjoy.” He nodded at the kids. S’lynn was taking them on a triumphant progress around the living room; each seated on one of her shoulders. A feat none of her friends but the Martians could have managed.

The expression on her daughter’s face pulled at Alex’s heart.

It was so full of joy.

What would she tell her after a month when S’lynn returned to Mars?

How would she manage Hope’s disappointment?

*********************************************************************************

“What do you mean, I shouldn’t meet Hope again?” S’lynn exclaimed, her voice—Kara’s voice—full of indignation. It only irritated Alex.

“I meant that you shouldn’t.” She emphasized “shouldn’t” for good measure. “meet Hope.”

“Alex!” S’lynn seemed to be scrambling for a decent counter. At least, that is how it seemed to Alex though who knows, given that she was wearing Kara’s skin. Her own expressions might be different.

She pulled her thought back from that direction. It was a rabbit hole of suspicion and resentment. And for what? Only because her kid had taken to this woman as if she was her long-lost mother. In any case, that had nothing to do with her decision.

“Hope loves you. If you keep meeting her, she will get too attached. And, it will hurt her badly when you leave for Mars. I can’t have that. Besides, it is not like we hang out off work anyways.”

S’lynn’s face brightened. “Hope loves me?”

Alex frowned at her colleague. What has gotten into S’lynn? Where was the soldier she had met the first day? “Did you hear the part where I don’t want her to get hurt?” She turned away, unable to see the disappointment on that beloved face. “And, I didn’t mean she really loves you, loves you. She just met you.” She grimaced and allowed a concession. “But, she does seem to like you.”

“I won’t hurt her Alex.” S’lynn came back into her field of vision. “I promise.”

“It is not up to you.” Alex pointed out, this time meeting the sincere blue eyes. “When you leave, she will be hurt. And, I, and not just I, but Kelly and Jaya as well, can’t bear to see our kid hurt.”

As expected, S’lynn’s face fell. And, it hurt.

Alex asked, curiously. “What is it to you, anyways? She is just a strange kid to you.”

“She is such a lovely kid. She reminds me so much of myself, Alex.” Was the baffling answer.

“How could she remind you of yourself?”

“The way she struggles being part human and part alien. The way she needs to remember to not use superpowers in strange company…” S’lynn’s voice took on a distant tone. As if she were somewhere else. Or, lost in memories. “It is all so familiar.”

“I didn’t know you had noticed.” Bringing up a five-year old half alien, especially a half Kryptonian with such a wide range of powers, was tough; especially on the kid. Alex did have regular training sessions, as did Clark and his sons. Still, she knew that sometimes Hope messed up. Thankfully, never with any significant or visible consequences, even in school. But, keeping her powers to herself among people, even people that knew about her, was a strict rule Alex and her other mothers had impressed on her.

How had S’lynn noticed?

She pushed the question away. Five-year-olds make mistakes. It must be obvious to soldiers.

She didn’t know whether to feel gratified or bothered by S’lynn’s obvious affection and concern for Hope. She felt a bit of both. And, none of that really changed her mind. But, before that, “Why is being a halfling familiar to you?”

S’lynn appeared startled. It took her a while to answer. May be bringing up unwanted memories? “I had met a few halfling kids when I was younger.” The way S’lynn couldn’t meet her eyes told her all she needed to know about the pain the memories induced. “I had some friends who struggled growing up.”

Was she talking about kids with Green and White Martian parents? Must be when she knew J’onn.

“I am sorry.” She said after a small silence. “I am sorry for what your planet is going through. I really am. And, if I could help, I would. But, please. I cannot risk Hope’s happiness.”

S’lynn looked as if she was searching for an answer. She did find it, eventually. “It is necessary for Earth’s survival, Alex. You heard J’onn. We need to behave as if we are Alex and Kara, super team.”

“I am not convinced anyone would be checking such minutiae.” Alex countered.

S’lynn met her eyes steadily. “Can you be sure of that? Would you be willing to risk the planet—Hope’s life along with that—on that?”

Damn it!

“What am I going to tell her about you? I can’t tell her you are my colleague. I have never had her meet my colleagues. How will I explain your leaving to her if I tell her you are a friend?” Alex shook her head. “It is just too complicated.”

S’lynn gave a small smile. “Just tell her I am your girlfriend.” A curious expression flitted across her face. “If you tell her we broke up, she will understand the cultural connotations. Even kids pick that stuff up.”

Alex stared at S’lynn flabbergasted. “What? No. Pretend girlfriends, is that what we have come to?” She paced, with difficulty, in Kelly and Jaya’s small kitchen. “Besides, how will it even fool the enemies? Didn’t you say they know all about me and Kara? Kara is my sister.”

“Foster sister, adopted in your teens, isn’t that so?” The pointed nature of the question unsettled her. She had come to terms with her feelings long back. But, how could a stranger know?

S’lynn though wasn’t finished. “I am sorry.” Her expression sobered. “It is just that for my preparation, J’onn gave me a lot of details. He implied that you had feelings for Kara.” She paused and then added. “And, Kara for you.”

J’onn!!! When this was over, she and J’onn were going to have a long talk.

“Yes, I did have feelings for her.” Alex gritted out.

S’lynn looked into her eyes intently, moving with her when she tried to turn away. “Did or do? Do you still love…” She paused and then asked softly. “Do you still love Kara, Alex? Or, is it all in the past?” The blue eyes were full of an intensity that compelled Alex to confess the truth.

“Yes. I do love Kara.” She exclaimed. “Are you satisfied? What is it to you anyways? I don’t think Kara loves me. Not…” Her voice trembled. “That way.”

She took deep breaths to steady herself. God, this woman. She had just regained her equanimity, and now, it was gone again.

So much for the touch therapy. The intimacy of the question meant she couldn’t even bear to touch S’lynn now. She didn’t know what kind of signals it’d sent. How much it’d open her to ridicule.

“I am sorry.” S’lynn said softly, crouching to meet her eyes as she bent in half to find her bearings. “I know you are in pain. And, if I could…” She broke off, looked away for a moment, and then continued. “Alex, hold on for just a little while longer. Please.” Was that tenderness in the blue eyes? Surely, not.

“Why a little while longer?” She asked to buy time.

S’lynn looked hesitant, but then explained. “We—that is M’gann and I—think there is an infiltrator among the rebels. If our suspicions are correct, it could be bad Alex. That is the reason why we are risking Hope getting hurt and…well, a lot of other things.” She finished vaguely.

Infiltrator.

Alex looked at S’lynn suspiciously. Her behaviour had been pretty different this past week. In fact, ever since M’gann announced that she would not be a part of testing any more. Could she be?

“No, Alex! I can’t believe this.” S’lynn looked startled. “How can you think I am the infiltrator?”

Am I so easy to read?

Alex focused on the question at hand. “Well, your behaviour has changed since last week.” She opened her first finger. “You no longer allow me to touch you.” She circled S’lynn. “You have turned germ-phobic. Or, blood phobic.” Her third finger opened. “You were a professional soldier when I met you. Now, you act like one of the worst undercover agents ever.”

“What?” The voice was full of righteous indignation. “I can do undercover.”

Perhaps it was the familiar expression and voice, but that brought back memories.

Alex glared at her colleague. Or, was she the infiltrator? “You are different. I am not convinced you are the same S’lynn I met three weeks ago. What have you done with her?”

Her hands went to her hips.

Damn! She didn’t have her gun at the ready. She should have kept it. Now, her friends and her daughter might be in danger, and she could do nothing. She moved to the knife rack.

“There is no reason to panic.” S’lynn paused. “Alex. Please. I can prove to you that I am not an infiltrator.”

“How?” Alex kept a few feet between them and tensed her stance to move at a moment’s notice. She should have covered the door to the living room, but her position made it difficult.

“J’onn!” S’lynn exclaimed. “J’onn can prove it. You know that there is no pretense in mind meld. He can join with me and show you I am no infiltrator.” She raised her arms as if to prevent Alex from doing something stupid. “Just stay away from the knife. I know that you have figured out a way to join with J’onn too, so you could tell if J’onn is J’onn. May I call J’onn please?”

She had chanced up on the way to mind meld with J’onn when she had been searching for a mental block that kept empaths out. Thank God she had because in these times, it was her sanity.

She nodded.

It didn’t take long for J’onn to confirm that S’lynn was S’lynn and had no ill intent towards Alex, Hope, or her friends and family.

Finally, after he had gone back to the living room—raising his eyebrows at their lengthy hold out in the kitchen—S’lynn looked at Alex.

“So? Girlfriends?” S’lynn nudged her shoulder. “Come on. I could be fun.”

She could never say no to that hopeful expression. No matter how much she told herself it was not the real Kara.

“Pretend girlfriends.” She corrected. And, tried to ignore the little jig her heart did when S’lynn, in Kara’s form and voice, let out a little whoop.

“You know, I have to talk to Kelly and Jaya.” Alex said trying to curb her colleague’s baffling, if gratifying, enthusiasm.

S’lynn sobered. “Tell them it is very important for the planet.”

Alex snorted. Right. Kel will believe that. But, she knew S’lynn would bring in J’onn and M’gann to convince them. It was pretty much a done deal at this point.

She couldn’t wait for this trial—this pain as S’lynn called it—to be over.

**********************************************************************************

Notes: Hey! I took artistic liberty—in a fanfiction—and made Hope Half Kryptonian. 😊It was just easier and finding some other alien with heat vision.

[cheshiresense]

Out of curiosity, and because you've mentioned it before: how do you think a friendship between ichigo and aizen would go down? *tosses in a time travel bit, just in case, because why not?*

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Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. In general, I’m not a huge fan of Ichigo & Aizen interaction unless Aizen’s just there to fill the enemy role. It’s not like I hate it, it’s just I’m usually not interested in it.

But.

Let’s say Yhwach wins. Soul Society is destroyed. Most people are dead. All that good-bad stuff. Ichigo gets sent back. Along with Aizen. They’re basically the only two powerhouses left, and SK figures if anyone can stop his son, it’s these two with all the knowledge and experience they have against Yhwach. And also if anyone can keep Aizen in check without literally locking him up, it would be Ichigo.

Because I am a sucker for TBTP era, that is where they go. Maybe that’s as far as the SK could send them, maybe he thinks a century-ish to prepare would be enough.

Aizen Sousuke, Fifth Division lieutenant, gets carted off to the Fourth when he collapses out of the blue one afternoon under the weight of a hundred+ years of memories, including all the work he’ll do in his attempt to make a perfect Hogyoku and the events that led to his brief reign in Las Noches and of course his defeat at the hands of Kurosaki Ichigo and Urahara Kisuke and even those two years he spent in the darkness of Muken before being released just in time to watch the world collapse.

Ichigo, mind and body, gets conveniently dumped near a patrol led by Shiba Kaien. It doesn’t take much for the Clan to accept someone who’s so obviously one of them, even if they don’t know who his parents are. He’s also shuffled off to the Fourth because Kaien found him bleeding and near-comatose, and the Shibas have private healers but Unohana is still the best.

Ichigo wakes up first. His healing factor is no joke, and Aizen technically has two souls working to integrate together while his mind struggles to put all the new memories in order. They don’t see each other that day. Aizen gets his own private room, and Ichigo is in a wing reserved for the Shibas. But Ichigo can still sense him, and yeah, a very large part of him is still wary of this man because they aren’t exactly friends and Aizen’s one of the smartest, most dangerous people Ichigo has ever met. But at the same time, he also remembers the Aizen who tried to help him against Yhwach, undoubtedly for his own survival and his own refusal to serve anyone, but by the end, it was also very obvious that Yhwach was going to win and Aizen still didn’t switch sides or run away. Not even for his own survival. If nothing else, Ichigo can respect conviction like that.

Sousuke wakes a few days later. Unohana tells him his reiatsu was depleted, and did he strain himself training? Sousuke easily takes the lie and runs with it, conceding gracefully to Unohana’s ominous stare and lecture before he’s released.

Kyouka Suigetsu is cold even to his touch, and he can’t hear her even though he can feel her again. It’s both jarring and startling. He’s used to a certain kind of emptiness where his spirit once - and now again - resided, and he didn’t realize just how much he missed her felt that emptiness until it’s been filled again. He’s not sure what kind of reception he’ll receive when he enters his mindscape so he puts that off for later.

He goes back to work, brushes aside his captain’s suspicious glances and deflects his gruffly concerned nagging. He gets his hands on a calendar as soon as possible, and a few quick calculations tells him it’s still a good decade before the Hollowfication incident. He hasn’t even met Gin yet. Which reminds him… He considers it for all of a moment before making a mental note to recall all the Shinigami currently secretly under his command, gathering souls out in Rukongai under the guise of missions. Gin was a… tolerable protégé, a quick learner and a dependable subordinate, inasmuch as Sousuke ever depended on anyone. He has no use for him this time though, so he might as well leave the boy and his friend alone. Besides, Ichigo probably won’t approve, and even before they came back, Sousuke had already decided that - at least until Yhwach is taken care of - it would be more trouble than it was worth to have to fight Ichigo every step of the way as well. Until or unless, of course, Ichigo attempts to get him thrown back into Muken.

They don’t meet up until two weeks later. Sousuke is admittedly impressed at the speed Ichigo can get things moving when he’s motivated. Within a week, rumours of a new Shiba enrolling a bit late at the Academy begin circulating. Within two weeks, said new Shiba has reached prodigal status and jumped straight to almost all senior courses, most likely slated to graduate by the end of the year.

“You act quickly when you have made up your mind,” is Aizen’s opening gambit when he appears in the ramen stand that Ichigo deliberately chose because it’s only half a block away from the Fifth Division barracks.

Ichigo shrugs and doesn’t bother looking up from his noodles. “No use dragging my heels, right? I can’t do anything when I’ve got every Shiba in the city hovering over me like I might collapse from a strong gust of wind. They’ll have to back off once I graduate and get a job.”

Aizen makes a faintly skeptical noise once he finishes ordering his own meal. “You would be surprised. The Shiba Clan has always been strangely family-oriented.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “There’s nothing strange about being family-oriented. But whatever, we’re not here to talk about them. What’s your plan?” He gets a raised eyebrow for that. Ichigo rolls his eyes again. He feels like he’s going to be doing that a lot. “You can’t tell me you don’t already have like half a dozen plans cooked up. So tell me those, I have a few ideas of my own that I’ll tell you, and we’ll poke holes in each other’s plans until we come up with the best one.”

He gets stared at a bit more before Aizen’s ramen arrives, and they eat in silence for a while. Aizen is the one who breaks it in measured tones, “We need to figure out a way to breach their Wandenreich before Yhwach returns. He is powerful enough on his own. Taking his army from him would be a decent blow against him.”

Ichigo grimaces. “Right, and by we, you mean me.”

Aizen points out, mild as milk, “I cannot manipulate reishi.”

Ichigo sighs but doesn’t protest. His gaze slides over to a nearby shadow before returning to his food. “Right. Well. I guess you’ll be figuring out a way to defeat the Quincy army?”

Aizen waves a dismissive hand. “Yhwach aside, I am not particularly concerned about the rest of them. If push comes to shove and our Bankai are stolen, Urahara Kisuke invented a way to cripple them. I am sure I can duplicate the method.”

Ichigo gives him a hard stare at that. “Okay, but that better not be code for ‘I’m gonna continue feeding people to my sparkly magic stone’. Yours was a failure anyway so there’s no point doing the same thing all over again.”

Aizen counters with a narrow-eyed look that doesn’t quite fit the kind, genial lieutenant disguise he’s got going right now. It’s creepy. “The Hollowfication research will be necessary. I believe it is key to defeating Yhwach.”

Ichigo scowls. “That’s fine. But not your way.”

Aizen’s lip curls a little, equal parts derision and mockery before it’s wiped away again, just as a group of Shinigami duck inside to pick up their takeout order. They whisper excitedly when they catch sight of Aizen, and all of them blush when Aizen smiles at them. Ichigo thinks he might gag.

“Do you think,” Aizen says with all the silky bite of hidden poison, as soon as the Shinigami have left. “Your Urahara Kisuke created his Hogyoku any differently than I? He somehow succeeded where I did not, but do not think for one second that his hands are any cleaner than mine. The very nature of the Hogyoku requires the sacrifice of souls. He is no saint, no matter what kind of pedestal you’ve put him on in your-” He stops. Looks at Ichigo. A frown creases his brow. “…But you know that.”

Ichigo shrugs. “That Kisuke’s done some seriously messed up shit? Well yeah. I mean, Exhibit A: Rukia, Exhibit B: me. And I didn’t spend all my time at the Shouten only drinking tea and training, you know. Sometimes we talked.”

He doesn’t let himself think about it though. He’s been handling everything so far by very pointedly not thinking about it. About everything he’s lost. About everyone he’s lost.

“Just find another way,” Ichigo finishes irritably. “You’re supposed to be smart, right? So quit fucking around and figure it out.”

Aizen… doesn’t do anything as obvious as glare or even clench his jaw or anything, but there’s something about the unblinking sharpness of his expression that makes Ichigo think the man is torn between amused and annoyed and maybe a little incredulous. Ichigo doesn’t quite understand where all those emotions are coming from but he scowls back with an unflinching sort of steadiness because this is a line in the sand, and Aizen will not be crossing it. Not again.

Aizen finally concedes with little more than a huff of a laugh through his nose even as he turns back to his meal. “As you say,” He agrees, and if you only listened to his tone of voice, you’d think he was the pinnacle of gracious modesty. “And what of Urahara Kisuke? Will you be stopping him too?”

Ichigo frowns. “Yeah, but it’ll probably take me a while to get there. I was thinking, after I graduate, should I go to the Twelfth? We’ll probably need Kisuke, sooner or later.”

“You believe you can influence him enough to change him?” Aizen looks amused all over again.

“I can try,” Ichigo retorts. “If it really comes down to it, I can find his labs, burn everything that looks shady, and then pin him down and explain everything to him. And hopefully by then I’ll have found a way through to the Wandenreich too so that would be proof.”

He bristles defensively when Aizen actually rolls his eyes, a little. And here he thought the bastard was too refined for that.

“And there is the Kurosaki Ichigo I recall from our early days,” Aizen murmurs. He doesn’t give Ichigo the chance to snap back, continuing smoothly, if pointedly, “Do you even know enough about any scientific field or technological research to catch the Twelfth’s eye? At this point in time, those are the only types of graduates Urahara Kisuke is looking for.”

“Well, no,” Ichigo admits. He knows a bit from listening to Kisuke in the other future-past but probably not enough to actually make a career out of it. “But you can teach me, right?”

Aizen doesn’t even blink, but his reiatsu flutters just a moment, giving away his genuine surprise. “Me. Teach you.”

“You can say no,” Ichigo snorts. “If I can’t get into the Twelfth, I figure the Thirteenth or Eighth might be-”

“I have not said no,” Aizen cuts him off calmly. “And it would be foolish of you to believe there is no danger in working your way into Kyouraku Shunsui or Ukitake Jyuushirou’s good graces. This is not a century in the future where they’ve spent years stewing silently under a number of injustices against people they claimed to care about. This is a time where they turned their faces and said nothing when the Gotei’s elite was gutted overnight on one man’s say-so. Kyouka Suigetsu’s hypnosis ensured that an already paranoid government would condemn them, this is true, but I never had to hypnotize a single Shinigami for them to let the matter go. There was talk, of course, but in the end, they swept the incident under the rug all on their own.” He studies Ichigo for a long moment, and whatever he sees there - Fury? Disgust? Disappointment? - makes him nod with something like satisfaction and something like pity. “I will teach you some basics. I teach classes a few times a week at the Academy. I can set aside some office hours for you. If you can turn Urahara Kisuke to our cause, it would simplify matters greatly. But I doubt you will enjoy it much. You have always preferred the arts, I believe.”

Ichigo freezes. Aizen looks particularly innocent despite the dark-tinted amusement that swims underneath. “I did say I have watched you grow up all your life, did I not?”

“…You are so fucking creepy,” Ichigo finally croaks.

And Aizen beams rainbows and butterflies in response, and hell Ichigo wishes he’d looked like that at Yhwach because surely it would’ve been a one-hit KO. It sure as fuck makes Ichigo want to run screaming in the opposite direction.

And… some time passes. Ichi goes to school, meets up with Aizen in his office a couple times a week for tutoring sessions, plots with Aizen, snarks with Aizen, shouts at Aizen on one memorable occasion when they argued over whether hypnotizing everyone into helping them fight would be a good tactic (Ichigo wins with a no, for now, to be rehashed in the future).

Eventually though, people notice.

Sousuke hasn’t been using Kyouka Suigetsu as much. To be honest, there’s simply no real need, which is… an actual novelty. He is literally not doing anything illegal, and in fact hasn’t done anything illegal - beyond ensuring all the Shinigami under his command don’t remember what they’ve been doing for him - since he came back in time. He’s fairly certain it’s some kind of record.

It’s largely Ichigo’s fault, Sousuke decides. When he isn’t doing paperwork or teaching a class or away on a mission, he’s tutoring Ichigo or ironing out their future potential plans with him.

And Ichigo is not like Gin. Gin was obedient. For all that he had a mischievous streak, he also walked a careful line around Sousuke. He had a knack for just enough backtalk to be amusing but not offensive, made himself useful but didn’t linger enough for his presence to become annoying, and ultimately, he did anything and everything Aizen asked of him.

Ichigo is not like that. He very much does not give a damn about whether or not he offends Sousuke. He’ll park himself in Sousuke’s office until he learns whatever chapter of whatever topic Sousuke is teaching him that day. He’ll let them both take a break if they end up too frustrated, but he keeps at it, and he never shies from asking Sousuke to explain something again if he doesn’t understand. He matches Sousuke word for word if they disagree over something. He isn’t too prideful to concede if Sousuke makes a good enough point, but likewise, he doesn’t let Sousuke get away with insisting on being right when Ichigo comes out on top in their arguments.

It’s frustrating, and more than once, Sousuke thinks it would be so much easier if he could just… hypnotize Ichigo a little, to make him a little more agreeable. Of course, then he remembers Kyouka Suigetsu won’t work on him, because they may be back in time, but the soul remembers, and Ichigo adapted to Kyouka Suigetsu’s illusions from the very first moment they teamed up against Yhwach like he’d done it his entire life. Kyouka Suigetsu has never and will never work against Ichigo, and Sousuke’s still undecided about whether to be impressed or insulted by this.

So Sousuke is forced to cope. He’s appalled when Ichigo actually manages to goad him into snapping back once or twice, but at the same time, there’s something almost freeing about not having to watch his words, his actions, his very facial expressions, when there’s only Ichigo around. With Ichigo, there is no need to pretend because he already knows exactly the kind of person Sousuke is, and it leaves him feeling simultaneously wrong-footed and uneasy and perhaps just a touch grateful.

Eventually, Hirako notices. Hirako Shinji has forever been a thorn in Sousuke’s side. Not particularly life-threatening, almost forgettable at times, but irritating all the same. Hirako’s always seen something off about Sousuke. He’s never been able to see the full picture, but he sees enough to remain wary. Not that it helped him much in the end of course.

But he sees Sousuke with Ichigo, with the Shiba’s latest pride and joy, and undoubtedly, he probably thinks Sousuke is corrupting him. Which secretly amuses Sousuke to some degree. If there’s one man Sousuke would put money down on being uncorruptible, or at least very close to it, it would be Kurosaki Ichigo. If anything, it tended to be the other way around. Ichigo drew people into his orbit and changed them, simply by being himself. No mind manipulation necessary.

“Sou-chan,” Hirako sidles up to him one day, peering at him like that would make Sousuke crack and spill all his secrets. “I hear you’ve been hangin’ out with an Academy brat lately.”

Sousuke levels a patiently droll expression on his captain. “Indeed. Shiba-san has expressed an interest in joining the Twelfth upon his graduation, and he wishes to further his education in certain sciences in order to better his chances for acceptance. Since I have some knowledge of several areas in the field, I offered to tutor him during my office hours.”

And the best thing of all, he isn’t even lying. He wonders if Hirako can sense it too, because his captain stares, keen-eyed and silent, too controlled to flap his jaw in shock, but shocked all the same. It makes Sousuke wonder if he really did lie to Hirako that much the first time around. Then he remembers that more often than not, he simply left an illusion of himself in the barracks while he worked in his labs.

Hm. Is that why? because some part of Hirako - perhaps because of his Zanpakutou’s abilities - has always sensed that literally everything about his own lieutenant was fake?

“I see,” The man says at last. “Well, that’s good. The kid could benefit from that if he really wants to get into the Twelfth.” But I’ll be watching you goes unsaid. “Invite him over sometime,” He continues, and the offer is genuine, because at his core, Sousuke’s captain is a good man. “He can see what a Division looks like from the inside.”

Sousuke watches him walk away. He wonders if it will change anything if he tries shoving Ichigo in Hirako’s direction. It could be interesting to find out.

And…. that’s all I have. Basically these two getting to know each other in-between figuring out how to save the world and dragging in allies and settling into their lives in the past. And Sousuke still mind-whammying people as a first instinct. And Ichigo stopping him from mind-whammying people, which becomes instinct. It’s an interesting friendship, to say the least.

[arrghigiveup]

I love how we've been getting all these comments on the "greatest prank Fleury's ever played" and they're somehow always different:

When Tom Kuhnhackl was a rookie during the 2015-16 season, he noticed Fleury leave the Penguins' practice facility more quickly than normal but didn't really think too much of it.

His mistake.

Turns out Fleury had swiped Kuhnhackl's car keys, attached a few liquid chalk markers to his vehicle and parked it in front of where the autograph seekers gather and wait for players to leave the parking lot.

"Every single fan there signed my car," Kuhnhackl said, shaking his head. "I couldn't see out of any of the windows."

"Thank God there's a GetGo with a car wash down the road. It only took me a minute to get there, but I remember driving with my head out the window, trying to figure out where I'm going."

The legacy Fleury left in Pittsburgh involves equal parts pranks and good deeds done.

Bryan Rust remembers the time Fleury hung his clothes from the rafters at PPG Paints Arena, while former backup Jeff Zatkoff loves to tell the story of the time Fleury changed the labels on the hairspray and deodorant cans.

Bullano said Fleury once got Evgeni Malkin good when, after Malkin bought a new sports car, Fleury attached pop cans in hard-to-see places so it sounded like there was something seriously wrong.

"He's one of the funniest guys I've ever met," Kuhnhackl said. "A great character guy."

[source]

[img source]

(more under the cut)

During the AMA, Schultz was asked by a fan (Reddit User McCowan-) if he was part of a prank war within the team and what was the best prank that happened to him.

Schultz responded with a wonderful story about being pranked by Fleury shortly after being traded to the Penguins.

"I'm not a part of any prank war. I try to stay away from that stuff so it doesn't happen to me. The best prank that happened to me was right when I got here, my first or second practice. I go out for practice and all my street clothes are hanging up in the rafters thanks to Flower. I would say that was a good one."

[source]

[img source]

In addition to a decorated résumé—he has won more Stanley Cups (three) than the rest of Vegas’s roster combined (zero), and his 115 playoff games outpace any teammate by 35—this joie de vivre made Fleury perfectly suited for an expansion franchise. If the Golden Knights were indeed destined for a rocky maiden voyage, might as well have someone cracking jokes in the galley. (Or performing Fleury’s favorite prank by ducking under table cloths and dumping pasta sauce onto sneakers; rumored victims of the daring “shoe check” include NBC Sports announcer Pierre McGuire in a Philadelphia steak house and actor David Spade over dinner at Penguins owner Ron Burkle’s Beverly Hills mansion.)

[...]

Fleury is again sprawling, pokechecking and cart-wheeling as much as ever. His goals against average (1.77) and save percentage (.942) both rank second league-wide. “He’s a great leader,” Marchessault says. “It’s been 14 years, and he acts like he’s here [in the NHL] for two months.” Pranks were shelved while he healed, but Fleury is coming around there too. Returning to his hotel room during a recent road trip, Marchessault discovered water leaking onto the bathroom floor. Someone had sneaked inside and unscrewed the toilet pipes.

[source]

Crosby on his favorite Fleury prank: "He got stink bombs... They reek. He got at least 4-5 guys' hotel rooms with those. He found a way to pretty much evacuate a floor of the hotel with those stink bombs. He had so many. He kept it loose. There was something like that every day."

[source]

IAN COLE: “We were in L.A. last year. A large group of us went to dinner, and maybe six of us started to walk home, six of us wanted to go somewhere else. [Fleury] was in the group of six that walked home, and they were walkig by a skating rink, an outdoor skating rink. He went and rented some skates, kind of stiff-legged around the ice. Then went really fast, full-speed over the wall, tumbled over the wall and dropped like three feet to the ground, just to see what the security guards would do. They all come flying over, diving over the boards to make sure he’s OK. The other five guys are standing there just cracking up. Got a video of it, showed the boys. It was one of the funnier things I’ve seen, the security guards’ reactions. These high-school kids freaking out thinking somebody killed themselves on their outdoor rink in Santa Monica. It was pretty funny. He’s a character.”

[source]

[vid source]

Plenty of other prankster personalities have preceded Fleury. His first NHL roommate was current Montreal GM Marc Bergevin, a luminary in the field of hijinx. But few possess greater guile or wider diversity than Fleury. Over the years, his greatest practical jokes include:

Filling towels with shaving cream.

Nailing shoes to locker stalls.

Tying Coke cans to the bottom of Penguins center Evgeni Malkin’s new Porsche.

Stuffing Pittsburgh strength coach Mike Kadar’s car with packing peanuts.

Drenching teammates’ clothes in the shower and sticking them in the freezer.

Taping the spray button on a deodorant can, then lobbing that can into an occupied bathroom stall like a grenade. “Not ideal when you’re taking a No. 2,” says Devils assistant coach Alain Nasreddine, who played in Pittsburgh for bits of three seasons.

Hanging new players’ clothes from arena rafters. “If you know the rink security guys,” former Penguins forward Eric Fehr says, “you can accomplish quite a bit.”

[source]

Just. I love him so much.

Bonus #1: 

Ok...can’t make this up.  15 minutes before he takes the ice a very emotional game, Marc-Andre just snuck up behind me and SMACKED me in the back of the head!!!!   Different jersey...same man (...jerk.) -DP

[source]

Bonus #2:

Fleury on if he will prank his old teammates: "I had one in Vegas. I laughed. I can’t say it though, it’s not appropriate. Nothing so far. They should be out of their locker room now right? We’ll see." -SK

[source]

Bonus #3: Not a prank, but a great story all the same

I only spoke with Marc Andre Fleury three times during his tenure with the Penguins. Spending most of my time on the 7th floor while he rarely left the 1st didn’t afford me many chances beyond those few. But we had a funny connection that I can now share with you.

Starting in my first season anytime I introduced the team to the ice, Marc would without fail run down the runway. It took me half a season to realize he was timing his skate hitting the ice with when I said “Penguins”. To be certain, I tested him over two games. I varied my delivery. He changed his pace. Without fail, he nailed it each time.

Once I was certain, I no longer tested. In fact I took great pains to make sure we timed it without him having to kill himself. If we missed for some reason and he had a poor start I would blame myself.

By my rough estimate of four times a game over nine seasons, Marc Andre Fleury and I were in sync a little shy of 900 times.

He and I never once spoke of it. I will miss it greatly.

~Ryan Mill, Penguins public address announcer

[Source: 1, 2 and you can see a video of it happening here]

[samwell-actually]

Zimbits Fic-Rec

Although I have my all-time favorite OMGCP fic bookmarked on my Ao3 page, I wanted to compile a master list of all of my favorite OMGCP Ao3 fic to have in one place on my tumblr. And since I’m that neurotic, I thought it might also be nice to break-up each ship as well: 

You Never Said You Wouldn’t So Here I Am | emmagrant01 One-Shot, 10k. Eric just wants to get past this crush, but Jack keeps getting in the way.

Phone, Please! | twentysomething One-Shot, 5k Five Times Jack Took Bitty's Phone (And One Time Bitty Put It Away Himself)

Ice Crew Please! | rosepetals42 Completed Multi-Chapter, 61k Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is. He’s not, of course. Enter the Ice Crew.

écrit dans les étoiles | gurlsrool One-Shot, 5k Jack didn't go to Samwell and Bitty doesn't follow hockey but through the bathroom of a Beyoncé concert, a ticket to a Bruins game, and a lot of texting, they come together anyways.

Positive Image | twentysomething One-Shot, 4k When Bittle first showed up at a meeting with management, sitting next to Sara with wide, scared eyes, Jack didn't think he had a chance in hell.

I never saw the signs | biblionerd07 One-Shot, 4k Bitty gets asked out on a date, but he's already spoken for. It wouldn't be a problem, really, except he didn't know he was already spoken for.

Mixing It Up | sinspiration Completed Multi-Chapter, 41k Eric Bittle, of Bitty's Bakery, is very excited to have been chosen as a contestant for the Food Network Challenge. He's even more excited to find out that he's making a cake for the NHL new-Cup winners, the Falconers.

Being in Motion | marswithghosts Completed Multi-Chapter, 54k Watching a college boy jerk off online for money is not what Jack Zimmermann ever saw himself doing. Getting to know that boy is something he expected even less.

found out | applecrumbledore Completed Multi-Chapter, 20k “Bitty, you have finally rose to the rank of ‘bad roommate who brings people home and has loud sex,’ and we love it. It’s lonely here at the top. And now, you’ve joined us.”No one notices Jack, at the far end of the table, staring at his bacon.

A Little Bit Closer | marswithghosts Completed Multi-Chapter, 108k Children’s librarian Eric Bittle falls for Boston Bruins forward Jack Zimmermann.

Hold It All At Bay | psocoptera Completed Multii-Chapter, 50k The theory of extrapolative synchronization of the mirror neurons was debunked back when he was still in his teens, so Jack is reluctant to mention that he can smell Bitty's pies baking from across campus.

naked ambition | asfroste One-Shot, 2k The one where Jack strips down for ESPN The Magazine's Body Issue and Bitty has some...issues with it. issues involving inconvenient boners.]

live through this and you won’t look back | nighimpossible One Shot, 4k The worst part about falling in love with a straight boy is definitely not watching him date girls. No, the worst part about falling in love with a straight boy is that you never even had a shot.

Here Come the Dreams | porcupinegirl Completed Multi-Chapter, 26k Sometimes it seems like Jack can't go anywhere in Providence without being hounded for autographs, so he's relieved when the people who work at the coffee shop in his new neighborhood don't seem to recognize him.But the cute baker who owns the shop, Eric, has a few surprises for him - and maybe Jack has a few of his own in return.

say it’s been a long six months | biblionerd07 One-Shot, 10k Jack falls in love, comes out, and loses his friends. Not quite in that order.

Helpless | emmagrant01 One-Shot, 19k “So we should ask Bits and Lardo to come with us to New York,” Shitty said. Jack turned to look at him, frowning. “Seriously?”“ Yeah, man. I mean, I know this was supposed to be just you and me, but… We both know those two are gonna be part of our lives after graduation. It’d just be like. Getting a head start on it.”

make this house a home | bleepobleep One-Shot, 2k With the prospect of an empty Haus for Thanksgiving, Jack invites Bitty over to his new place in Providence. As friends, of course.

i don’t see your name on it | heyfightme One-Shot, 5k that old chestnut of soulmates’ names being branded on each others’ wrists. jack and bitty, from the moment their names appear to the beginning of the rest of their lives.

Catfishing for Dummies | andquitefrankly Completed Multi-Chapter, 12k Eric Bittle hadn’t planned on signing up for online dating.He also hadn’t planned on messaging the super obvious catfish masquerading as Jack Zimmermann. And he definitely hadn’t planned on possibly falling in love with him.

if there’s anything on my face you put it there | jedusaur One-Shot, 2k “You don’t have to tell them it was me. I mean, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll stop leaving marks if you want me to. Just…“ He lifts up Jack’s shirt and touches one of the hickeys. When he looks back up, his eyes have gone dark. “I really, really like it. Do you mind?”

forget the wax and feathers | decinq One-Shot, 6k Bittle scores against Yale and Jack acts like a son of a bitch. They’re not friends.

bold; over the worst of it | decinq One-Shot, 3k “Spring C,” Jack says, “is full of mystery.”

when it’s over (you’re the start) | onawingandaswear Completed Multi-Chapter, 13k Jack goes to sleep in Providence next to his boyfriend and wakes up in Montréal to discover he’s been in a coma since 2009. Refusing to believe Samwell, Bitty, and the Falconers were all a dream, Jack tracks down the real Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster to find they’ve shared the same group hallucination for years. Now, they’re on a mission to find Bitty, the love of Jack’s non-existent life, and the only member of SMH they can’t seem to get in contact with.

is it too late now to say sorry | magneticwave One-Shot, 5k I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS, Eric types furiously into Twitter. THIS IS LIKE RENAMING LAKE WOEBEGONE “LAKE SCOTT WALKER.” // Or, the only person in the entirety of Canada who is upset about Jack Zimmermann’s first Stanley Cup is Eric Bittle, and by God is every single one of Eric’s 160,000 Twitter followers going to hear about it.

providence loves you | nightwatch One-Shot, 8k Bitty loses his phone.He dies (approximately) a thousand deaths when he finds out that it’s Jack Zimmermann who found it.

through the crowd | kirkaut One-Shot, 4k The notification sound isn’t the one that he’s got assigned to Jack, which is why he doesn’t feel any panic when Holster hums an agreement and leans over to peer at Bitty’s phone screen.At least, not until Holster says his name in the tone of a person with a slowly growing suspicion. “Bitty,” he says, very expectantly. “Who is ‘Good Robert’, and why is he blowing up your phone?”

the backpacker’s guide to the aftermath of gap year hookups | heyfightme Completed Multi-Chapter, 20k In which Eric Bittle absconds from Georgia with half a year of hard-earned savings, and makes the most of his six months before starting college living a backpacker’s dream in Europe. On the final night of his travels, the night before a giant reality check and with the threat of a future looming over him, he meets a fellow traveler. There is etiquette, for sure, about hooking up in a hostel dorm.

gonna wanna make it move | decinq One-Shot, 8k He spends so much time thinking ahead–being careful, holding onto everything so tightly with his shaking hands–that it’s easy to forget that he’s an honest to god dipshit.

Jack Zimmermann is a Masochistic Fuckwit | porcupinegirl One-Shot, 11k Bitty decides to go home for Thanksgiving his sophomore year - so he can come out to his parents. When Coach Bittle is in denial, the boys in the Haus decide that Bitty needs to bring a boyfriend home for Winter Break. A boyfriend chosen from the very attractive ranks of SMH, of course.Why does Jack volunteer?Because he’s a masochistic fuckwit, that’s why.

Passing Notes | marswithghosts One-Shot, 4k Jack Zimmermann is charming, and Bitty enjoys the way he writes the B in Bittle. He knows he’s being stupid, but his life consists of seventh graders and baking pies; he’s allowed to have a little bit of a fantasy.

the road leads back to you | heyfightme One-Shot, 9k Bitty meets Jack Zimmermann on 5 AM on a Sunday morning after someone set their grilled cheese on fire in his dorm. He doesn’t really expect that they’ll become friends. Or that he’ll become friends with an entire hockey team.

someone to count on (and other cheesy idioms about finding your soulmate) | heyfightme & Omgpieplease One-Shot, 9k (+ art!) Another soulmate AU, this time with pining, lying, and a lot of assumptions.

Bad Coffee and Ugly Running Shoes | alocalband One-Shot, 4k The Captain of the Providence Falconers lives in Bitty’s neighborhood. Well, more specifically, he lives somewhere within jogging distance of Bitty’s barely surviving first venture into small business ownership. During the preseason, he visits Bitty’s bakery at exactly 6:35 in the morning every weekday, without fail. He keeps his gorgeous blue eyes trained on anything and everything that isn’t another human being the entire time he’s there. And he only ever buys a cup of coffee. Bitty kind of hates him.

give my regards to summer romance | gurlsrool One-Shot, 2k SK 6:48 p.m.FUCKINDEETSJACKFUCKINLAURENTFUCKINZIMMERFUCKINMANN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JZ 6:50 p.m. It was nice.

Just Spit It Out | porcupinegirl One-Shot, 2k Jack can't believe he just heard the words on his soulmark from the mouth of the gorgeous new waiter at the diner he frequents. But now the pressure is on - what if he says the wrong thing back? Can you screw up meeting your soulmate?

All the Love in the World | alocalband One-Shot, 3k Bitty’s hands are shaking. He has five missed calls from Jack, two from Chowder, one from Lardo, and an astronomical number of yet to be viewed text messages. It’s not that he hasn’t been checking his phone, it’s that every time he’s picked it up at an alert, all he’s been able to do is stare at it. Which is what he’s doing now, as he waits for his mother to finish speaking with the doctor at Coach’s bedside.

the road leads back to you | gurlsrool One-Shot, 9k “That’s prom, right? You walk in on your friends boning, bone someone yourself, eat some chips.” / The boys find out Bitty didn't get to attend his high school prom so they throw their own.

Will Wonders Never Cease | porcupinegirl Completed Multi-Chapter, 57k You’ve Got Mail with a magical twist.

A Clerical Error | 1electricpirate One-Shot, 7k “There aren’t any twins left,” Lardo’s telling them, stress evident in the corners of her eyes and the tight clench of her jaw. The hotel is cheap and conveniently located, but the payoff for that is terrible management and a logistical nightmare. “Just a double. You’ll have to share.

Eric Bittle Got Married | emmagrant01 One-Shot, 27k If you could do it all again, would you change anything? (The time travel fic no one asked for.)

Something Rational | porcupinegirl One-Shot, 1k Jack knows tonight was a turning point, but it's not over yet. He won't be able to relax until he's sure they're on the same page about this.

It’s an Investment | imaginarycircus One-Shot, 1k Jack hasn't bought anything for his kitchen in Providence because he wants Bitty to pick everything out. That way he'll feel right at home when he moves in, but they haven't talked about that yet.

Graduation Day | iboatedhere One-Shot, 27k It takes Jack 50 days to finally see what's been right in front of him for the past two years.

the road leads back to you | heyfightme Completed Multi-Chapter, 56k Jack Zimmermann is an established hockey player. He’s three years in to his NHL career, has had the A for the Falconers for two and a half, and is ready to make winners out of the new group of rookies. He pulls one under his wing, affectionately nicknamed Poots, and it should all go as planned. But say Jack accidentally discovers that Poots has a boyfriend. And say that Poots wasn’t a very good boyfriend. And say, for arguments’ sake, Poots’ boyfriend definitely deserved better. Jack is maybe, possibly, totally fucked.

don’t you tell me i’m dreaming | gurlsrool One-Shot, 4k “It’s me,” Jack’s voice comes low and hits him hard. You are not in love, Bitty reminds himself. He is not in love with you and you are not in love with him.

[greatdrams]

No longer lost in translation, a Whisky Tourist’s Guide to Japan

Tokyo has long had a special place in my heart, when I visited the first time I was a whisky fan who was exploring a city that had long been a fascination to me, now a decade later I returned with work and my experiences were a little different this time. Here is the GreatDrams whisky tourist's guide to Japan.

Check out the GreatDrams Ultimate Bar Guide to Tokyo too

Also see the detailed look at the Hakushu Distillery

Finally check out the most unrepeatable Japanese whisky tasting I've ever taken part in

Japan is more westernised now, easy to navigate and easy to communicate. Only time I needed my Google Translate app was in Duty Free to explain the concept of a flight transfer. Last time I was here it felt like another world, now it feels like my world; easier to navigate and communicate than France was when last there a year ago.

But has this westernisation come at a cost? I’m not sure in truth, but there were obvious let downs for me; I had spent ages pre-trip relearning business customs, phrases for getting around and how to order various sushi and drinks, but none of that was needed. And only one bar, Bar Butler, hand carved the ice balls whereas last time I was in town every bar did.

Maybe I have a romantic view of my last trip here a full decade ago, tho unlikely as I remember it vividly as I was ill for much of it with a form of Guillaume-Barre disease that effectively paralysed all the muscles in my face, meaning I had to manually chew and drink all drinks including neat whisky through a straw (would not be able to do that in the West now, but straws and plastic bags are everywhere here) which set in six hours after I landed in Japan and lasted until ten days after I was home. It was scary but I was so convinced I’d never be back here, and I am not one to really dwell on stuff like that, that I travelled the whole city, saw it and experienced it all. Who knew; the face freeze might have spread elsewhere as Guillaume-Barre often does, but it normally starts from the legs up, so I had to get on with things whilst I could.

Hence why I don’t think there is a huge amount of romantic rose tinted glasses retrospection here… although last time I did get to meet a monkey and have a photo with him, though like most photos from that trip I look miserable despite having an absolute belter as my face muscles could not raise a smile… I must have been the moodiest-looking tourist ever.

What hasn’t changed is the how busy and the extreme individuality of nearly every citizen within a culture of extreme conformity.

One of the things I was most impressed with was the people; they are so approachable and gentle, even if they cannot speak English they do their best to work out what you are saying.

The best example of this was when I was bar-hunting I kept getting to the address on Google and then drawing a blank as the addresses are so random and there are so many floors to each building with very few properly sign-posted that it is so hard to work out how to get in there unless you know the area. With that in mind I had to ask a LOT of people for help with directions and two in particular were incredible. If they can’t direct you they will walk you where you need to go, as noted in my Ultimate Bar Guide to Tokyo, “there was one guy who walked five blocks in circles asking people until it was clear it was impossible to find the place, then there was the guy who walked back from where he was going to discover the bar was on the 8th floor of his apartment block and he never knew. Be prepared to clock the steps in trying to hunt them down”.

Unbelievable.

[divider]BARS[/divider]

Japanese whisky was once the pride of each bar, now a selection of limited edition and single cask Scotches haves replaced that as they cater more for locals - which is understandable, but a challenge for tourists.

If you’re looking for bars, firstly check out my Ultimate Bar Guide to Tokyo, but here are the ones I would highly recommend:

Butler Ginza Branch

8 Chome-7-7 Ginza, Chūō, Tokyo 104-0061, Japan

Le Connaisseur

〒104-0061 Tokyo, Chūō, Ginza, ８丁目-４-２６

Tokyo Whisky Library

〒107-0062 Tokyo, Minato, Minamiaoyama, ５丁目5−24 南青山サンタキアラ教会

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Bar Benfiddich

〒160-0023 Tokyo, Shinjuku, Nishishinjuku, 1 Chome−13−7 大和家ビル

El Calvador

SK Bldg 4F, 1-3 Maruyamacho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo

Shinagawa Highball Bar

Exit Shinagawa Station using the East Exit and walk about 300 metres straight ahead of you, you cannot miss it

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Hibiya Bar Whisy-S II

8F Noco Building 5-6-5 Ginza, Chuo-ku

[divider]BUYING WHISKY IN JAPAN[/divider]

No whisky tourist's guide to Tokyo would be complete without a list of retailers you should try to visit if you’re looking for interesting whiskies, although there are no guarantees that there will be any gems, but you simply never know and ranges seem to change daily in some of them:

Liquors Hasegawa

http://www.liquors-hasegawa.com

〒104-0028 Tokyo, Chūō, Yaesu, 2 Chome−1, 八重洲地下街中4号

Liquor Mountain

1-2-16, Kabuki-cho, Shinjuku-ku, Tokyo

Shinanoya World Wine and Foods - Shinjuku

Absolutely brilliant range of bottles - including limited edition Scotch and Irish whiskeys, as well as standard Japanese bottlings. 〒160-0021 Tokyo, 新宿区Kabukicho, 1 Chome−12−9 タテハナビル

A family-run liquor store about 300 metres down the road (east)

Just down the road from World and Liquor Mountain, I’m pretty sure it was a mom and pop store and was crazy cluttered, but at the back of the shop was a glass-fronted cabinet with a load of local bottles as well as some Scotch offerings and various interesting Japanese bottles too.

Isetan Department store

Great store, like the Harrods of Tokyo, and not only has it got a few great bottles there you can buy samples of many of the bottles they sell so you can try the stuff as well as buying it.

〒160-0022 3-14-1, Shinjuku, Shinjuku-ku, Tokyo

Isetan Duty Free store near the Ginza Station

Address: 104-8212 4-6-16, Ginza, Chuo-ku, Tokyo

The best part of this store is that, whilst their range is super-limited, you can buy the bottles and pick them up at the airport once you are past security to save on your luggage packing, given you will probably have other bottles to pack in as well!

  [divider]MOVING AROUND THE COUTRY VISITING DISTILLERIES[/divider]

Tokyo, and Japan a whole, is really easy to move around, make sure before you travel you get a JR Pass from jrpass.com, it will cost £206 with special delivery and arrives super-swiftly. This will be your gateway to Tokyo and the whole of Japan as, as long as you use any of the JR lines which take you all over the place.

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Make sure you get a SkyRoam device, I hired one for around £115 plus £7 per day I was away and it was invaluable; it is effectively ‘internet in your pocket’ and actually felt like I was carrying ‘the internet’ each day. Good battery, allows you to connect five devices at once to it and mimics a local 4G network which you then connect to without paying more than your daily fee through SkyRoam. Marvellous. At times I got better connection than I do in my office! Buy here, and yes for this one I have an affiliate link as I was so impressed with it. Use coupon code GREATDRAMS to save 10% on your booking... win-win. 

One thing to say up front; don’t expect many, if any distillery exclusives to add to your collection, Suntory do not seem to see the value in them and the distilleries I visited were too young to have mature spirit, although Asaka had bottles of their spirit that had been aged in various casks for up to six months available for around £28 - £40.

Gaia Flow

Travel on the Bullet Train from Shinagawa Station, which takes about 50 minutes - I would advise going to the ticket booking office and reserving a seat free of charge as these trains get really packed and you do not want to stand all that way.

Once you arrive at the Shizuoka Station, take a 35 minute taxi to Gaia Flow. Taxis will be outside the station to the left, and they are unlikely to know where you are going so show them the address and if you have a GPS device pre-load it so they can have a look.

Definitely call or email ahead of your visit as their visitor centre won’t be fully open until mid-way through 2019 but they are set up for brief tours if you so desire but it is courteous to let them know before you arrive so they can be free.

Asaka

From where you are staying take the JR line to Tokyo Station, which is MASSIVE, and take the bullet train to Kohriyama Station which will take about 80 minutes if memory serves. Then get a taxi to the Asaka Distillery. Again get in touch before going to ensure they are available and able to show you around. They have a shop which take cash only, but where you can try numerous young versions of their spirit including one maturing in Mizunara wood. They usually have limited edition whiskies in for purchase too that are limited to around 300 bottles each.

Hakushu

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Nearest station: Kobuchizawa, 1 hours 59 minutes from Shinjuku station in central Tokyo, then a 15 minute taxi to the distillery (or use the courtesy bus put on by the distillery at the weekend if it works with your itinerary). Simple.

[divider]IN SUMMARY[/divider]

Check out the GreatDrams Ultimate Bar Guide to Tokyo too

Also see the detailed look at the Hakushu Distillery

Finally check out the most unrepeatable Japanese whisky tasting I've ever taken part in

Japan is a phenomenal country with awesome people and an amazing amount of things to see and culture to experience so make sure you plan well and pay attention to train times as they are NEVER late.

The post No longer lost in translation, a Whisky Tourist’s Guide to Japan appeared first on GreatDrams.

from GreatDrams https://ift.tt/2NJgEkA Greg

[justreadingfics]

Soft Touch, Tough Soldier.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) X Reader

Summary You don’t have a life of your own anymore. You are theirs. Just as much as he is. Despite the horror you both live in, you find each other.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: angst, reference to torture, reference to violence, brainwashing, implied smut.

A/N: This is my submission for tricia’s1kchallenge (the outstanding @tilltheendwilliwrite). Thank you for allowing me to participate T., and for helping me so much with this one. You rock! I adore you. Congrats on the milestone, you deserve it all. I got prompt 9.  “I have to go, but I don’t want to leave you.” English is not my first language. I feel like this differs a bit of what I’ve written before, so I really, really would love to hear from you guys. Xo.  

Source for timeline: http://marvelcinematicuniverse.wikia.com/wiki/Timeline

Source for Romanian: Google Translator and @morningriseghost who so kindly messaged me. 

Gif not mine. 

 Washington, DC. Apparently this was going to be your new home for a while. At least it was what you had heard some of them saying. Not that it matter in any way, not that you were allowed to leave the constricting walls of whatever shitty facility they chose to operate.

You didn't have a choice. You wish you could even remember what it felt like to walk on the street of a city, to feel the air around you, to listen to the mix of noises showing the place was alive, that you were alive… But you couldn't. You didn’t have a life of your own anymore. You were theirs. Just as much as he was.

You sighed profoundly, biting the nails of one hand, while the other fumbled with the buttons of your white coat, and your foot tapped repeatedly against the floor. Why was it taking so long for them to bring him to you?

It had been long since the last time he had been out of Cryo. Your patient, your Soldier, your love... The only anchor that kept you holding on to this life.  It had been 7 months and 12 days since you last saw him. The longest period you’d ever gone without a glance of his gorgeous face since you got to that hell, three years before. Now you were so close to see his oceanic gloomy eyes again, but every minute seemed like a painful eternity. They must had something big and atrocious planned to keep him guarded for so long. The thought of what kind of nasty mission they undoubtedly had prepared for him made your stomach twitch in knots.

The nerve-racking waiting and the longing to see him soon draw your mind to the very beginning.

~~~~

You had freshly graduated from Harvard Medical School followed by a residency in Neurology. First in your class, receiving all the honors possible, with a backpack full of dreams to pursue hanging on your shoulders. That’s the reason why when one of your Professors offered you an opportunity to be part of a big and intriguing research program of a mysterious organization you didn’t even blink twice before getting on board. Who would have thought that your dear Doctor List was actually a leader of the dishonorable organization called HYDRA?

At first they tried to brainwash you with their sick philosophy to make you stay. But, when it didn’t work out as expected, they started using what they knew best. Torture. Pain. Intimidation.

Every escape attempted meant at least one broken limb for you. Not to mention the constant threats against your family members. So, at the end, you were left with no choice other than to give in to your new life as a HYDRA Doctor.

Your job would consist of evaluating and treating an asset of theirs, one they kept in cryogenesis and took out only for missions. You should check for any brain damages resulting from the process and from other perverse techniques described in his medical file, which forced your heart to be scrunched while reading it. Basically, you had to assure they wouldn’t fuck him up to the point of no return or make him useless for the organization plans.

You would never forget the day you first met him. Just like now, you were anxiously waiting for them to bring him to you. But your anxiety wasn’t caused by the same reason then.

Then you had been terrified. You knew nothing about his life, his backstory, but you were aware of the wiping process and the horrific brainwashing methods he was constantly submitted to. Yet, he was HYDRA’s deadliest weapon, so your expectations rested on that, and not on the fact that when two guards rushed into the room, startling you and placing him roughly in the treatment chair right to your front, you would meet with the bluest pair of eyes you had ever seen.

The two guards stepped away to stand by the door while you did your work. Your eyes were fixated on the broad figure that sat in front of you, wearing what you understood to be a tactical gear. A rough leather vest with no sleeves, exposing both his flesh and metal arm, which you knew about by reading his files, but what really held you interest was how dead his beautiful eyes remained.

He didn’t look up at you, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence or the whole situation which surrounded him.

Your breathing was erratic while his remained impassive. Though you weren’t afraid anymore, there was another rush of feelings surfacing inside you which you couldn’t quite put a finger on. How could someone seem so menacing and helpless at the same time?

You took in a deep breath to put your feelings on check and start the examinations procedures. The least you wanted was a punishment for being distracted. So, as you were used to doing during your residency, you explained to him everything you were doing and were careful to ask for permission before every single one of the procedures, even if all your words seemed to be falling into a void as he lingered silent and as still as a statue.

The images displayed on the exam machine shattered your heart. It was unbelievably heartbreaking how damaged his hippocampus and other essential parts of his brain were as a result of the endless wiping, yet you were amazed at the capacity of learning, clearly enhanced by the serum injected on his system.

When you were done with your work, you noticed, for a very unprofessional reason which most likely could get you killed, you weren’t quite ready to let him go. He intrigued you in a restless way. Against your better judgment, you slowly stepped closer to his chair after glancing at the both man guarding the door. They were engaged in a conversation with their back turned to you, so you felt confident enough to do what you had no idea why you needed to do.

You kneeled in front of the expressionless man. While his breathing was stealthily quiet, your ragged one assaulted your ears. He didn’t flinch or look directly at you, not even when you propped yourself with your hands on the arms of the chair with your face inches from him. You couldn’t believe how handsome he was with those chocolate locks brushing his features, some strains wet in sweat and glued to his skin.

But when you couldn’t help yourself and raised a hand to tenderly cup his scruffed jaw his eyes flicked swiftly to yours. It didn’t startle you, instead, his baffled stare and the sway of his chest showing the increase of his breathing only urged you to say what had been haunting your mind ever since you read his medical file. “I’m sorry...” you whispered, meaning your words.

His forehead furrowed while he blinked several quick times, and, opposing the former deadpan expression, in his eyes you saw fear, confusion, sorrow, but you also saw softness, curiosity, and appreciation. His beautiful, slightly parted lips were trembling like there were words trying their way out of the prison of his mind.

The sounds of his heavy breathing mingled with the thuds of your heart against your chest. Hypnotized by the beauty expressed in his gaze. You missed when he hesitantly lift his metal hand to lightly coat the one you had caressing his cheek. The sudden icy touch prompted a gasp out of your throat and sent sparkles all over your body, but you couldn’t move your hand away from him.

Right then you realized how much trouble the Soldier would be for you.

You weren’t wrong. That very same night you had a piece of that trouble, while you were lying down on your single bed in what your capturers liked to call a bedroom but you knew as your cell. With your back turned to the door, you didn’t see or hear him coming in, but you felt his overwhelmingly quiet presence behind you. An unbidden wave of fear ran down your spine making your eyes widened and your body tense. You made sure to slow down your breath, but you knew it was of no use.

His enhanced senses weren’t a secret to you, he would know you were awake.

The attack you were expecting never came. He just stood there in the dark inside the small room, staring at the back of your body, you assumed. Unexpectedly but not in a unwelcoming way, the whole situation ceased to be frightening to you when some curious feelings started to inflame your insides from the bottom of your core, and you felt your whole body relaxing, even if you never turned to face him.

His brooding presence was somehow comforting and the risk involving the situation was… insanely alluring to you. You knew he had gotten closer when rushes of hot air coming from his breathing enticed goosebumps to erupt all over your skin laid bare by a tank top and shorts.

You took in a sharp intake of air, your whole body shuddering when a cold metal finger touched ever so lightly the place where your skin was exposed on your low back and moved all the way up to your neck, unhurriedly making its way down again to the starting point, getting close to the band of your shorts. It became an almost impossible mission to suppress the yearning, dirty sounds fighting to escape from your lips as an expression of sheer arousal. Before you could show any further reactions he was gone.

He left as stealthily as he had got in.

It left you panting and feeling cold lines of sweat running over your skin, trying to understand what had just happened and why you were feeling that way, like there was a magnet pulling you over to that man. A man whose name you didn’t even know, if he had one at all.

During the protocol of the examination session the next day, and the subsequent ones, whoever watched the interaction between you two saw nothing but stoical behavior coming from him and professional manners on your end. It was amazing how bad guys couldn’t figure out anything beyond hate and fear, so the touches that were prolonged more than necessary and the affection coloring the gazes of both of you meant nothing to them.

That first night was followed by another, and another, and another. He always adopted the same pattern, standing inside your room watching you on your bed before running his metal finger over the usual path on your spine, never exchanging a single word with you. Most people would see that behavior as disturbing, but God knew how much you longed for those hushed minutes with him.

Afraid of scaring him off with a sudden move, you remained on the same position to allow him to come closer and touch you. You couldn’t sleep before he arrived and struggle to close your eyes after he would leave you.

You both kept this dynamic several nights and days until the craving for more of him took the best of you. During one particular night you decided you hadn’t had enough, so when you felt his presence behind you and the familiar cold touch of his finger, you boldly turned around, grabbing his flesh wrist when he promptly moved to get up from where he was kneeling by the side of your bed.

“Stay,” you whispered.

He kept looking at you with widened eyes but with an unreadable expression, keeping himself deliberately in place since he could easily unraveled himself from your grasp.

“I need you to stay,” you kept on without averting your eyes from the ones which had the power of melt your heart. “I need you to touch me,” you huskily confessed while softly guided his flesh hand to cup one of your breasts, feeling an electrifying coil squeezing your core when his hand met the covered mound.

His mouth had been long opened, then his eyes closed and his heaving chest proved how hard breathing was becoming for him, just like it was for you.

“Please, I need you…don’t go away…not tonight, please,” you pleaded, not caring how pathetic you were sounding. You needed this man, that was the simple truth, and you wanted anything but to run away from the feeling.

He snapped at your breathy supplication, and the walls he had been struggling to sustain between you two crumbled down when he pulled you closer with his metal arm, and leaned forward to press his lips to your begging ones with unrestrained passion. Soon, skin met skin and your searing sweaty bodies became one until the despair of your touches burned in a fiery pleasure you had both been deprived of for too long.

You didn’t count how many times he had taken you that night. He couldn’t get enough of you just as much as you needed to feel him, to be closer and closer, to have him inside you.   

From that unforgettable night on, your life with HYDRA consisted of enduring whatever you had to just to survive and wait for your encounters with the unnamed soldier, whether it would mean the wordless, ardent nights inside your bedroom or even the chance to furtively touch him in the medical bay.

So, it did nothing less than break your heart on the occasions when they wiped his brain so much he wouldn’t remember you. At least, at first when they sat him down on the chair before you, but at night he rarely failed, always finding his way back to you, somehow breaking through the barriers of his own mind. When it came to you, you were each and every time waiting for him, eager for his both soothing and ravenous touches.

~~~~

That day in that dreadful facility in Washington, after so long he had been on cryo, depriving you of his warmth, you had no idea what his reaction to you would be. Would he remember you? Would he still find his way to you, no matter what?

The clench in your stomach constricted further when, like a replay from the first time you’d seen him, two guards stormed into the room, dragging and pushing him into the chair. The hatred in your eyes aimed at the HYDRA assholes for the unnecessary violence of their actions soon turned into worry for the numbness the gaze of your lover displayed, like his soul had been detached from his body.

In a way you knew this was what they did to him with the wiping. The anguish in your heart almost made you gasp when he didn’t respond like he usually did to your gentle touches disguised in medical techniques.

Defeated, despite trying hard but gently to trigger him into recognizing you, all there was left was fighting against the tears forming in your eyes and go on with your procedures, silently hoping for the night to bring him back to you.

But your hopes were in vain. He didn’t search for you that night, and the next day, when you were with him again, he still didn’t seem to recognize you, keeping to his emotionless behavior.

There was something wrong...

Your heart sank, and your concerns were confirmed when the exams you ran on his brain showed that the recent wiping had been even more damaging than the previous ones. When you tried to argue with the doctors responsible for the procedure they only explained that the orders had come from above. Apparently the missions he had been assigned for required so. When you tried to reason further, they said, with a scientific interest and nothing else, that they knew how harmful this could get for the “asset’s proper functioning”, but they couldn’t do anything. It wounded you extremely to acknowledge that neither could you.

You spent the next couple of nights in tears alone in your room. You cried for his absence, but most of all you cried for being so helpless while you witnessed them tearing him apart. You would do anything to give it all back to him, whatever the life HYDRA had stolen from him, as they had from you.

You caught yourself wondering about the man you never knew, the man behind all of that horror, behind the soldier, what was his history? Had he been happy? Did he have a family looking for him? Friends? A girl? You guessed you would never find out. You didn’t even know how old he was since the medical file delivered to you was restricted to the minimum necessary and the cryo process made it hard to estimate.

On the third night you had lost hope he would ever feel him in your arms again. That was until you got out of your bathroom wrapped in a towel after a shower and met with his brooding presence inside your room. The smile which instantly curled up your lips faded as soon as you took him his demeanor.

He was wearing his tactical gear, covered in dirt, hair disheveled, strained all over his face while his jaw remained clenched and his hands were balled into two fists. He was staring intensively at you, but you couldn’t read his expression.

You noticed bruising over his neck you knew would soon be gone, but it didn’t stop you from worrying.

However, you didn’t know what to expect from his gloomy and unsteady presence, so you fought off the urge to run to him and wrap him in your arms, remaining cautiously still by the bathroom door, waiting for him to move first.

His tongue swept over his lips before you heard his voice for the first time ever. “I know you,” he stated, a rough gravelly sound, but instead of the expected menace, you heard vulnerability in his words.

This and the sentence itself were enough to send you running in a straight line to press your lips against his shaking ones. His muscles seemed to relax under your touch when you cupped his face between your hands, and he circled one arm around your waist bringing you closer to him.

Reluctantly you broke the long delayed kiss, but didn’t step away from him. He rested his forehead against yours and sighed once again, “I know you.” This time you heard a bit of relief in his voice.

“You do… you do, my love, you know me,” you hurriedly confirmed, running your hands to the nape of his neck, tightening the embrace, afraid he would slip through your fingers again.

You felt his muscles going rigid like before, and you stopped breathing, afraid you had gone too far with your affection and had triggered him somehow.

But his hold on your back over the towel separating your body from his hands became stronger and he added softly, “And I knew him…”  

Frowning, you leaned back but kept your arms around his neck to watch his face. What you saw was despairing confusion while he tightened his lips and narrowed his eyebrows, forming a grimace. “Who?” you asked.

You felt his heart become erratic against his chest when he responded. “The man on the bridge, I knew him.”

The vulnerability expressed in his words and in his whole body language was almost palpable and you wished you could do something to help him, but then heavy boots and words spoken in Russian were heard coming from the corridor outside your door. You desperately took your lips to his again, then pressed your chest against him, enveloping his body  in a close-fitting grip, resting your chin on his metal shoulder and diving a hand on his hair.

“I thought I had lost you. I can’t lose you,” you whimpered, not even trying to fight the tears.     

He nuzzled in the crook of your neck taking a long inhale of air, as if he was making sure to engrave your scent in the deepest part of his mind. “I have to go, but I don’t want to leave you,” he confessed in a low but firm voice against your skin.

Somehow you managed to form a smile through your tears. You leaned your head away from his shoulder to once again look at him, sliding one hand to caress his jaw like the first time you had ever touched him. “They can’t see you here with me, my heart… but I’ll be always waiting for you, no matter what, you have to know this. And you will find me again, won’t you?” You didn’t know if you were trying to reassure him or yourself with those words.

His metal thumb wiped away a tear rolling down your face, and your soldier once again warmed your lips in a kiss, sweet and soft, but full of longing. “Always,” he breathed after giving you a final peck and looking down at you with a blazing conviction in his eyes which left you with no choice but to believe his promise.

But a few moments after he was gone, you found yourself curling your body in a ball on the floor, listening to his excruciating screams echoing through the corridors. They were wiping him again, and you knew it would be even harder this time.

Whatever happened on that last mission had triggered him to not just remember you, but also this said “man on the bridge”. If they noticed any of that, they would definitely make sure to delete everything they could so they could keep their compliant machine.

You cried yourself to sleep with the dreadful feeling it wouldn’t be easy for him to keep his promise.

~~~

It all happened in a blur, like you were a spectator of your own life.

The evacuations sirens were filling your ears and your thoughts couldn't follow a coherent line. All you knew was you had to move. You knew a situation like this would come at some point. It meant you had two choices: to vanish on your own or they would vanish with you.

You chose the first option and for the first time in a long time you gathered the courage to make an escape. The chaos worked in favor of you and other prisoners to run away from the facility. Against all odds, you were able to walk on a city street again. No, not walk, you had to run for your life and couldn’t really enjoy the foretaste of freedom.

While you made your escape, you heard a word here and there and slowly you managed to catch a glimpse of what was the cause of all that buzz. Apparently a woman they called “Black Widow”, who was part of SHIELD (a name you had heard before as one of HYDRA’S major nemesis), exposed every file of both organizations, revealing its members and doings. You realized it meant you would be exposed as HYDRA associated as well.

Who would believe you were held there against your will? What would happen to you until you could prove your hostage situation, if you ever could achieve such thing? You would never go back to be at the mercy of any institution, not even the government. Then you understood you wouldn’t have to run just from HYDRA, but also from everyone else.

Another thing you learned was your beloved Soldier was actually James Buchanan Barnes who used to be part of the Howling Commandos you had heard so much about in history classes when you were little. Your heart caught in your throat to know that he was considered missing after a confrontation with his best pal, Captain America himself.  

The man on the bridge.

That was when you knew your fearful feelings had been right. You would never find each other again. You discovered, then, what numb emptiness felt like.  

To hold any hope of survival for yourself, you sank down deep inside the fear of a life without him, of a life of not knowing if he would be alright, of never having the chance to explicitly tell him how you felt for him, so you grasped all your hopes on the possibility that, yes, he was fine and finally free of the horror he had been imprisoned in for nearly 70 years. The faith you put on that thought was the only way you would be able to go on.

Lucky for you, one of the hostages who managed to escape by your side used to be a C.I.A agent, who identified himself to you just as Agent J. He helped you create a whole new name, a new home, a new life.

~~~

One year.

That was how long you had been succeeding on surviving after the apparent dismantling of HYDRA. You had serious doubts they had been fully defeated, but at least you had never been found by whatever might have remained of the hateful Nazi group, or by anyone else for the matter.

And anyone else included him.

There wasn’t a night that you wouldn’t dream of the touch of his finger sliding over your back. Sometimes you would get to the point of waking up swearing you had felt it for real, and it wasn’t just a product of your reveries, but he was never there when you looked for him.

You knew it in your gut he was alive. You knew what he was capable of and how the serum inside his system was strong enough to help him heal from the most severe injuries.

Yet the hope of him getting to you again never out weighed the certainty it was  impossible. After all, you had disappeared without leaving any traces behind. Agent J. had picked a place for you he had considered suitable for someone who wanted to vanish from the rest of the world.

It was hard at the beginning to get used to absolutely everything there. But it felt like a paradise after HYDRA. Soon you found yourself a small apartment and a job at a coffee shop which helped you immensely with the language. Little by little you were building a life for yourself, a routine, blending in with the lifestyle of the foreign country, pretending you could be happy again someday, and get by the pang in your chest every single time you thought of him.  

One of your favorite things to do was to head to the local street market early in the morning before work to get yourself some fresh fruits.

So there was the place you were that morning. While you walked around the fruit stalls, the noise of the busy city had a calming effect on you, It was a proof that you weren’t a prisoner anymore, even if you would never get back to your old life. Feeling in a good mood, it lit up your eyes to see a stand full of your favorite fruit.

A smile slipped through your lips and you decided to stop and buy some of them to eat at your lunch break later that day since they looked so juicy and tender.

“Sunt prunele coapte?*Are the plums ripe?” you asked in raw Romanian, but still making yourself understandable enough to the attendant. You nodded and smiled when she answered positively.

“Ok, deci vreau…*Ok, so I want…” You never finished your order. The hand that was fumbling over the fruits froze in place when you felt it.

It was real this time.

Instead of metal, it was a gloved finger that met your lower back and slowly slid it’s way up, coaxing the little hairs on the nape of your neck to rise before descending back again over the familiar path which ached to feel that touch again.

All the air had disappeared from your lungs so you had no idea how you ended up able to whisper the words, “You found me.”

The whole world around you faded into that husky voice you thought you would never hear again.

“Always.”

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[empmoniitor]

07 MOST IMPORTANT MANAGEMENT SKILLS NO ONE TALKS ABOUT

You might be the best at your job. But if you lack management skills, you limit your work to what you can do alone. And that is so not the definition of a good leader.

Are you thinking of making a change? Stop considering management skills as a personality trait. Nobody is a born leader. And it’s never too late to polish your soft skills for the best. Your natural talents can never limit you- everything can be taught.

Years ago, we all underestimated the value of soft skills. Well, here are some things that we noticed:

88% of workplaces experienced better workflow and increased productivity among employees who were the most interactive with each other.

76% of employees who organize their day meet deadlines the fastest.

92% of customers get satisfactory results from companies that encourage communication and collaboration among their staff.

65% of corporate employees retain to their workplace despite less pay if they work under empathetic managers.

84% of workplaces demand flexible staff who can adapt quickly and deliberately.

Knowing how to perform your job is just the starting point. And there’s no point in neglecting even a teeny tiny bit of skill that you can learn. It doesn’t matter who you grasp it from- your seniors or a newly appointed staff.

One doesn’t have to hold a designated position to execute their management skills– it works equally well for all. A better hold in it results in a better workplace.

That’s all for the pep talk. Now let’s dig a bit deeper into it.

HOW DO MANAGEMENT SKILLS IMPROVE QUALITY OF WORK?

When you communicate with your team better, stay optimistic and patient, and encourage them to think out of the box, they start replicating your behavior. Every employee clears their doubts and queries more often, drops honest suggestions, and performs their assigned tasks more enthusiastically.

These are just the basic skills- to name a few. Wonder what difference would it make if you possessed all the soft skills that an organization would require.

As a matter of fact, people with better communicative and management skills, on average, are 38% more productive than their peers.

But here’s a thing- there’s not a perfect set of skills that work for all. But apart from the soft skills that everyone might be aware of, are we missing anything?

MANAGEMENT SKILLS THAT MATTERS FOR ALL

BUT GOES UNRECOGNIZED

Did you not already know the importance of being a team player and a communicator? Let’s skip past all that generic b.s. We have all added it to our CVs already. Here’s a list of skills that make all the difference. Look for the ones that you possess to give a pat on your back.

With that said, let us all focus on building the soft skills that we lack, shall we?

1. CREATIVE COLLABORATION

Collaboration is a skill that facilitates a person to work with others. Creative collaboration takes it a step ahead. It involves introducing various games, activities, and staff to get the team to start communicating with each other.

Remember, not everyone knows how to participate with their peers. Even an extrovert might refrain away from activities specially organized by their workplaces, let alone encourage others to take part.

Do you know how to go creative in your workplace and encourage your colleagues to participate in it? Congratulations, you are responsible for 50% of friendships among your colleagues. After all, it is not enough to be a communicator all on your own. One must know how to pass the legacy.

ALSO READ, 15+ ADORABLE TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES FOR VALENTINE’S DAY

2. GOOD LISTENING SKILLS

One might be a great orator with a mic but may never ever build strong personal relationships due to the lack of LISTENING skills.

Communication is a two-way street, and it involves two people speaking and listening. Unfortunately, only a few of us understand the importance of the latter. People frown and cease to express their thoughts in front of their peers who interrupt their sentences. Would you like your colleagues to stop sharing their opinions with you?

Management skills are more than just being able to manage stuff on your own- it is more about your ability to bring everyone forward as a team. When you are all ears, people feel appreciated and valued. It encourages them to speak up their mind whenever and wherever deemed necessary.

3. BODY LANGUAGE & COMMUNICATION

There’s nothing that kills a relationship more than the tone of your voice and body language. It adds meaning to your words and may send messages that you don’t want to.

Your words may not sound angry while texting, but your tone and crossed arms may indicate otherwise. Having a perfect body language and communication tone is one heck of a rare soft skill- I know. But it’s even worse to have your team pick up on things that you never said.

You may appear too rude or too cheesy in your team’s eyes. They may develop a cognitive bias towards you. It is very toxic for a team to function in the long run, with people disliking each other for no reason. Try a few things- keep your phone away when speaking, don’t look at your watch, keep eye contact with people, smile more often, etc.

4. OPTIMISM

Optimism is a choice. And whatever you choose makes you. It is no brainer that the people around you reflect your behavior. Then why not give them something to cherish and adapt?

Optimism is a virtue. And no, you don’t have to stay positive in every possible scenario. But if you manage to stay strategic and focus on solving an issue instead of getting a panic attack, you already possess one of the rarest management skills.

It is very crucial to have a rational approach towards everything that gets thrown at you. And the people who have an everlasting attitude of “we can do it” always lead the lot.

5. HONESTY & TRANSPARENCY

One can’t presumably open up with their colleague who doesn’t open up with them. While we would not recommend 100% transparency, try to tone it down to maybe an 80.

It implies being straightforward to people who ask you a question. Give them an honest answer like, “I don’t know much about it, but here’s something that I learned..”

A few white lies are no harm. But there’s nothing wrong with being honest, so why not? It is a prerequisite to getting non-fabricated responses from them in return. If you struggle in being honest with people because you may hurt their feelings, consider this- you may corrupt their career and future by not being honest with them.

6. CRITICAL THINKING

Do you know how many decisions you make in a day? A study suggests we make 35,000 of them every day!

These decisions range from choosing the color of your dress to making complex business judgments. And every decision that you make affects your day, and ultimately your work. Critical thinking is, thus, an integral part of your work life.

Our mind works like a fork, and we continually decide to choose between various options. People with commendable critical thinking make the best decisions, even in haste.

BTW, HERE’S THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO AN EFFECTIVE TEAM COMMUNICATION WITH DISTANT STAFF

7. HIGH WORK ETHICS

Have you ever wondered if you are righteous enough with people? Do you have a set of rules to abide by while working? Have you ever infringed them? I’m pretty sure you already get my point. People with high work ethics are the best managers.

Consider this- you may find an employee ill-mannered and loudmouth but a downright productive and fast learner. While you may praise them for their work, you will probably avoid training them to avoid conflicts. Such kind of behavior is not healthy for a workplace to function.

When polishing your management skills, consider working on your work ethics first. A person with high regard towards their workplace always completes their task for the day, owns their mistakes, treats colleagues equally, and complains whenever deemed necessary.

THINGS TO AVOID

This one is a bonus for all the people who are still reading with me. Now that you understand what you should do- let’s take a brief look at the things you must avoid. After all, some things done can be undone.

Avoid these to avoid negative results and setbacks in your workplace:

1. BIASES

A cognitive bias refers to an error in thinking. It occurs when the mind starts to simplify things we see based on our perceived notion of the subject.

While you can’t paint everyone with the same brush, it is also not ethical to look at them with the same glasses. Try to keep your biases aside when making workplace decisions, or you may end up choosing the wrong people for a given set of tasks. Your colleagues’ efforts may start going in vain, and they are bound to feel unappreciated.

2. NEGATIVE SELF-TALK

Being a perfectionist comes with a habit of persistent self-criticism. Appreciate only constructive criticism and try to cut all the other mental clutter.

Negative self-talk is the brainchild of pessimism and self-doubt. Don’t say things to yourself that you’d avoid saying to a good friend. Try to talk to your peers about the things you think you lack. A third-person’s perspective might help a lot. But never take a toll on your mental health.

2. INFORMATION BOTTLENECKS

An information bottleneck is a person who solely handles and responds to all the doubts and queries of their team.

While a person NEVER voluntarily becomes an information bottleneck, the aftermath is disastrous. Everyone becomes dependent on them and takes their work for granted, knowing that they would get assistance whenever they ask for it. As a colleague, learn how to make people take responsibility on their own.

3. BEING TOO RATIONAL

You can’t paint anything black or white- everything comes with shades of grey. While being practical works well for employees in certain situations, you have to remember that you’re working with humans, not robots.

Sure, it is challenging to keep your biases aside while parallelly making sure you don’t become too rational. Management skills are a hard nut to crack. Try to take examples from the people around you, and notice what doesn’t work for them.

5. LACK OF CONFIDENCE

Confidence is a lot more than how people see you. It is more about how you see yourself.

A confident manager is more responsible, assertive, communicative, and influential to the people around them. They will, more likely, trust you, confide in you, and will never hesitate in coming to you in case of doubt. They will know that you own your faults and would, thus, be more honest with you. And they will eventually start mirroring you.

BONUS, READ-

NOW IS THE TIME TO LEAD

There are various skills that an organization must inculcate in their staff to generate better results at the end of the day. Remember, your workplace is not led by machines- but by functioning minds who can differentiate between what works for them and what doesn’t.

Work on your management skills to organize your work and your colleagues better. What other soft skills and management tactics work for an employee? Drop your thoughts in the comments. I would love to give it a read.

Originally Published On: EmpMonitor

[britishchick09]

The Mystery of the Glorious Adventure: A Wadlow Sibling Fan-Fic (part 1/2)

a new senpai fic! this one took 5 days to write (august 14th to august 19th) and it was fun to write. enjoy! :D

senpai loves reading his new book, but his siblings don’t agree. when his book goes missing, he decides to crack the case and figure out who took it!

 Robert Wadlow smiled as he placidly turned the page of his book. He was reading a novel by Richard Hailburton, his favorite author. Hailburton wrote stories about his travels overseas, one of which wasn’t even his own. 

The book Robert was reading now was called ‘The Glorious Adventure’, which showed Hailburton taking the same path that Ulysses took around the Mediterranean Sea in ‘The Odyssey’. Robert greatly preferred Hailburton’s other adventures, but he didn’t mind reading one about the ancient Greek hero. It was nice to have a different point of view for a change.

As Robert read his book in content, he heard a knock on his doorway and looked up to see Helen standing there. “Dinner’s ready,” she said. “Mom called for you three times.”

“...Oh. I guess the third time’s not a charm, huh?” Robert asked with a chuckle. “Sorry about that. I was so caught up in my book that I didn’t hear her, I guess.”

“Which book is it?”

“‘Glorious Adventure’. It’s by Richard Hailburton. You might like it.”

“Huh,” Helen nodded in thought. “Maybe I’ll read it later.”

She walked away and Robert soon followed. He got up from his bed and left his book behind.

...

 Half an hour later, Robert returned to his room. He ducked through the doorway and frowned.

His book was gone.

“I thought I put it here...” his voice trailed off as he touched the bedsheets.

He slowly crouched down and lifted the covers. Through the slight darkness, he saw the familiar yellow cover peeking out.

“There!” Robert smiled as he grabbed the book and put it on his bed. “I should probably leave it on the table next time.”

He lay down in bed and flipped to the page he had dog-eared before continuing to read.

...

 “Hey, Robert,” Eugene called. “Junior wants...”

He stopped a few feet away from Robert’s chair, instantly noticing that his brother was absorbed in his book.

“You’re reading that again?”

Robert looked up. “Of course.”

“But you read it yesterday.”

“So?”

“You should read a different book. You know, to get some variety in there.”

“I will once I’ve finished this one.”

“But you read that a couple weeks ago.”

“And?”

“And you should read something else!”

Robert rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should read something else. Or anything at all, for that matter,” He put his book down. “What do you want?”

“Junior wants to go get ice cream at Block’s.”

Harold Jr. toddled into the room. “Will you take me, Big Brother?”

“Of course I will.” Robert said with a smile, getting up from his chair.

“I want to go too!” Betty exclaimed as she came out from the kitchen. “Where are we going?”

“You’re going to Block’s,” Eugene replied. “And I’m staying here.”

“You don’t want some ice cream?”

Eugene shook his head. “Save me some if you want.”

As Robert, Harold Jr. and Betty went out the front door, Eugene looked at the book in Robert’s hand, which almost couldn’t be seen.

“He really likes that book of his, doesn’t he?” Eugene asked himself with a sigh.

...

 Robert glanced up from his book, viewing the Alton sidewalk in front of him for a moment before returning to Ulysses in the Mediterranean.

“Can you see the road okay?” Betty asked.

Robert nodded, not looking up from his book. “Yeah.”

He almost tripped and grabbed tightly onto Betty’s shoulder. “Are you sure about that?”

Robert regained his balance, sighing as he let go of his little sister. “I guess not.”

“You should probably take that back home. You wouldn’t want to trip again.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Robert said as he began to turn around. “I’ll go back-”

Harold Jr. gave Robert’s pants a tug. “Stay, Big Brother!”

“I’ll take it back for you,” Betty offered. “That way you can stay with Harold Jr.”

Robert smiled. “I’d like that.”

“And I would, too!” Harold Jr. added cheerfully.

Betty smiled and jumped up, taking the book out of Robert’s hands. “What’s this book about, anyways?”

“It’s about Richard Hailburton- that’s the author- following the path that Ulysses took.”

“Who’s that?” Harold Jr. wanted to know.

“Odysseus from ‘The Odyssey’. It’s a story from Ancient Greece.” “Where’s that?”

“A far away place in a really far away time. The book came out nine or ten years ago, but I only just heard about it last month. It’s really good.”

“Is it so good that you want to walk around while reading it?” Betty asked with a knowing smile.

“I suppose it is,” Robert responded with a smile of his own. “We’ll meet you at Block’s, alright?”

“Alright!” Betty nodded before running off with Robert’s book in tow.

...

 “One giant double dip cone, please.” Robert said.

The girl behind the counter nodded, her eyes widening slightly. “T-That’ll be five cents.”

As Robert gave the girl a nickel, the door jingled open. Betty walked in with a smile.

“You’re just in time,” Robert told her. “What do you want?”

“A single scoop of strawberry!” Betty replied.

Robert turned to the girl. “And that’ll be...”

“Three cents.” the girl responded with a dazed nod.

Robert gave her three pennies and she slid them towards her, not keeping her eyes off of Robert. One of the pennies fell, causing her to finally break her focus away from the giant. 

As she bent down to search for the penny, Robert found a table to sit at. He helped Harold Jr. into the chair before sitting down himself.

“What did you order?” Betty wanted to know.

“A giant double dip cone.” Robert replied

Betty giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your order. A giant double dip. It’s just like you!”

Robert couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess it is, huh?”

The ice cream arrived a minute later.

“One single scoop of strawberry,” The girl handed Betty her cone. “And one... giant double dip.”

Robert smiled as he gently took the cone. “Thank you.” The girl gave another dazed nod. “...Uh-huh.”

After she left, Betty looked at Robert’s ice cream.

“Huh. It might sound like you, but doesn’t really look like you.”

“You mean I’m not two scoops of chocolate?” Robert asked with a smile, causing him to chuckle and Betty to giggle.

“You sure are sometimes. You have a scoop every night after dinner.”

“What can I say? It’s in my blood.”

“Is it really?” Harold Jr. asked.

“No, but I wish it was.”

For the next few minutes, Robert and Betty had their ice cream. Harold Jr. shared from both of them, but preferred having Robert’s.

“What are you going to do once we get back home?” Betty asked.

“Probably get back to reading.” Robert replied before taking a bite of ice cream.

“Maybe you should take a break from it. You’ve been reading an awful lot lately.”

Robert nodded. “I suppose I will.”

“But first...” Harold Jr. spoke up. “More ice cream!”

...

 Robert, Betty and Harold Jr. arrived home after all the ice cream had been finished. Instead of reading, Robert chose to listen to the radio. He sewed while enjoying his favorite program and stopped as the show ended. His fingers were beginning to cramp, so he decided to set his sewing down for a while.

It’s been quite a while since we got home, Robert figured. Maybe I should sneak in a chapter or two of ‘Glorious Adventure’. I’m sure that wouldn’t hurt.

After switching off the radio, Robert went to his room. He was about to duck through the doorway when he remembered something. He knocked on Helen and Betty’s bedroom door, smiling at the sweet music that floated past the door. It stopped after a moment and Betty opened the door.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“I just wanted to ask you something.” Robert said.

“Well, ask away!”

Robert looked at Helen. “Before I do, I just want to say that your violin playing was very beautiful.”

Helen blushed slightly. “Thanks. And it’s a viola.”

“Right. A viola.”

“What did you want to ask me?” Betty asked.

Robert smiled. “I was wondering where my book went. You know, the-”

“That stupid book by the traveling guy?” Eugene asked, poking his head out from his and Harold Jr’s room.

“It’s not stupid,” Robert told him with a frown. “And his name is Richard Hailburton, not ‘traveling guy’.”

“Richard Hallburton, traveling guy, it’s the same thing.”

Robert rolled his eyes and turned to Betty “Where’s the book?”

“I put it in your bookshelf,” Betty replied. “It’s in the top somewhere.”

Robert nodded before ducking into his room. He frowned when he saw the top of his bookshelf.

“What the- she said it was here!” Robert exclaimed.

He searched through the rest of his shelf, but the book wasn’t there. Robert frowned and looked everywhere in his room, from under the bed to in his closet to even behind his photographs on the wall. The book was nowhere to be found.

And now it was up to Robert to find it.

...

 An hour later, Robert had looked through the entire house and the book hadn’t shown up. He sat down in his chair with a heavy sigh.

“What’s wrong, Big Brother?” Harold Jr. asked.

Robert smiled and picked his little brother up, setting him in his lap. “I can’t find my book.”

“Oh. Where is it?” ‘That’s just it. I’ve looked everywhere and it’s nowhere!”

“Maybe you can look there.”

Robert chuckled. “I think I’ve already looked there.”

“Hmm...” Harold Jr. looked down at his lap before looking up at Robert. “Maybe you can go to the magic book place.” he suggested, referring to the library.

“Maybe I can. Would you like to go?”

Harold Jr. nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah!”

“Then I guess that’s what we’ll do.”

...

 Robert held his library card behind a copy of ‘The Glorious Adventure’. It was a little worn and didn’t have any dog-eared pages, but it was better than not being able to read it.

After reading a chapter and a half, he put his book down and checked the clock on his bedside table. It was almost time for dinner, so he decided to stop reading. 

Robert was about to take his library card out when he heard footsteps from down the hall. He hurriedly shoved the book under his pillow before seeing Betty skip by the doorway.

“Dinner’s ready!” she told him with a smile.

“I’ll be right there.” Robert said.

Betty nodded and walked away, leaving Robert alone. Once he knew she was gone, he peeked underneath his pillow to check on the book. He had let the other book get away, but he wasn’t about to let this one vanish into the night.

...

 A few hours later, Robert had gone to bed and was fast asleep. 

But a sudden sound caused him to become wide awake.

He put on his glasses and sat up in bed. Looking through the darkness, he saw that one of his leg braces has fallen on the floor.

That’s funny, he thought. They usually stay up pretty well.

As Robert picked up the sturdy iron brace, another thing caught his eye. One of the drawers on his bedside table was cracked open. He opened it and gasped slightly.

The library book was gone.

[arc-rchk-blog]

FICTION: Restless

By Leon Lee

Most people believed that daemons were manifestations of your soul. Aspects or sides of you that were similar but different, and reflected other parts of you for the world to see.

They shifted form constantly while you grew up, but after you matured, they stopped and settled, and then the world knew what kind of person you were.

Some forms were more common than others: Cats and dogs were normal to see, and it wasn’t uncommon to see mice here and there.

Occasionally, you saw a rarer form, like golden-furred monkeys and the well-known birds of the witch clans, but even they didn’t draw more than a few curious glances.

That was where the book ended, and he leafed through the pages desperately for more. When he found nothing, he cursed, and threw the book on top of a growing pile.

He pulled the next volume off the shelf, and then Skye padded into the room, all soft steps and lithe muscle, nuzzling against his leg. “Hey,” she whispered softly. “Everything alright?”

He sighed, sinking into a chair. “Dead end again. The books have nothing we don’t already know.”

She shifted, her fur giving way to scales as she coiled herself gently around him.

“What’s wrong? You’re all…twisted.” she hissed lightly, flicking her forked tongue across his face. “Like something’s eating you on the inside.”

“You’re not wrong,” he chuckled darkly, eyes falling to the pile of useless books. “I….I just thought we would have found something by now. I…..we need to know. Even a hint would’ve done wonders.”

Skye gave him a sad look. “It’ll be alright. There’s still three more places to check after this, and I’m sure one of them will have something that can help us.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “I hope so.”

Most people’s daemons settled during puberty, although there’d been a few cases of daemons settling as late as 18 and 20. So when Skye hadn’t settled after his sixteenth birthday, he hadn’t been worried.

But he was twenty six now, and Skye still had no form. It earned them a lot of odd looks and devil eyes, people muttering about curses and superstitions that they put little stock in.

Still, they’d be lying if it didn’t bother them, and that was what started them on this little journey.

He scanned the shelves carefully, then sighed. “Milan’s got nothing more for us. Next place on the list?”

“London,” Skye said simply.

—————————————————————————————————————————

London was pretty, and that was nice for him, but annoyingly, it seemed to be as useless to them as Milan was.

He replaced another useless book before pulling a prospective one off the shelf, skimming it with a disappointed air.

It came unexpectedly, a flash of something that he almost missed before flicking back to it.

His eyes widened.

“Skye! Sk-”

There was a noise from the room nearby, and he heard shouting and furious yowls through the walls. Something smashed against the floor, and pain lanced through his arm-

“Skye!” There was a faint acknowledgment through the bond, but she didn’t come to him.

He frowned.

There was a wrongness there, something Skye was hiding and holding back, and his arm still stung. “Skye, are you okay?”

“….Fine,” she muttered, her voice barely a flicker in his mind, and now he knew something had to be wrong.

Skye was the more open of the two, more confident and outspoken, and for her to be like this….

“Skye, where are you?”

Silence reigned across the bond, and he started getting ready to- “Here.” she said quietly, and an image of their hovel room came to him.

He looked down at the book he was carrying, memorising the important page before chucking it down and running to the hovel.

He was there in minutes, stumbling through the doors and almost running headfirst into the lift, and then he laid a hand on the doorknob and turned it gently.

“Wait….” she said, and he paused. “I’m…..different from what you’d expect. Not in a good way, either.”

He opened the door, and Skye stared quietly at him in the form of a cat. She turned into a lynx as he knelt beside her, and her head sank.

“What happened?” he said urgently. “Why did you run?”

Skye didn’t move. “….I don’t know. I….found a book. It said that sometimes, daemons can pick the form they settle in, and I thought that that might be why I haven’t settled yet. So I shifted into a cat, like I usually do, but….it felt odd. Like I was trying to be something that I wasn’t.”

She shuddered. “So I shifted, but….” She trailed off, and it was then that he realised that she wasn’t a lynx anymore. She was a dog, and then she was a bird, and then she was a mouse.

Skye tensed, and then she was a cat again, but tears shimmered in her eyes. “It’s hard to hold a form now, not like it was before. Every part of me wanted to shift, and it freaked people out. They threw things, and one of them glanced me slightly….So I ran back here.”

“It’ll be alright, Skye. We’ll fix this,” he hushed, taking her into his arms. “How?” she sniffed, nuzzling her face into his chest. “Because I found something. But we need to travel again.”

“Where?” “Well, you did say you’ve always wanted to go to Svalbard…..”

—————————————————————————————————————————

Svalbard was cold, but they’d expected that, and he’d wrapped up warm for the journey. Still, he couldn’t help the occasional shiver as they trudged through the icy fields.

He glanced at Skye, and a small smile touched his lips. Today, she seemed much better, having adopted the form of an arctic wolf, and she loped easily beside him.

“You know,” she said curiously, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“I’m hoping we can meet Iorek Byrnison.” She almost stopped at that, giving him an incredulous look. “Why do we want to find the king of the panserbjørne?”

“Because the book I found was a historical one, and mentioned that Iorek spent time with a human companion before he became King of the panserbjørne. And that companion he spent time with had a daemon that they thought would never settle, but eventually did.”

Skye’s maw opened in a silent realisation, and they started running.

In the end, it was the panserbjørne who found them first, and after explaining themselves, they were led warily to the doors of Iorek’s ice fort.

Word had been sent ahead, it seemed, because they were ushered in before a low growl bade the guards to leave.

“My scouts tell me that you wished for an audience,” a voice rumbled, and their eyes flicked towards the imposing figure of Iorek Byrnison and his armour.

“Tell me, human, why have you come to Svalbard?”

Skye stepped forward nervously. “We were hoping you could help us with a problem, though probably not in the way you think.”

“My daemon seems to be unable to settle, and everyone we’ve consulted has been useless. All they’ll tell us is that something must be wrong with Skye, but she doesn’t feel wrong.”

He knelt before Iorek. “We’ve been travelling everywhere looking for something that could help us, and the last text we found led us here. Will you help us, King Iorek?”

The armoured bear hummed. “I know little of daemons and human society. Why come to me?”

“The books we found made reference to a companion of yours. One who had a daemon who claimed he would never settle, but eventually did. We were hoping you could take us to her.”

“You speak of Silvertongue,” he said. “I cannot take you to her, but I will tell you where she lives. Be warned, though,” he growled. “I do not believe you intend to cause her harm, but if you do, there is nowhere in the worlds where you can run from me.”

—————————————————————————————————————————

“After all this travelling, we end up in Jordan, huh.” Skye muttered, padding along in the form of a lioness.

“Well, Iorek said Silvertongue was born here,” he replied, mentally counting off the streets as they walked along.

“So where do you think this “Silvertongue” lives, then?” Skye asked. “Some grandiose place, maybe? Jordan College?”

“Could be,” he mused. “But then again….” He reached the number Iorek had told him, and turned. And then he cocked his head.

“We’ve been wrong before.” They stood before a quaint, if rather large cottage, and the two exchanged glances. “You want to knock?” He rapped the door three times, and a slim brunette answered the door, wrapped in casual clothes with the exception of a long fur scarf around her neck.

A pine marten was perched on her shoulder, and he twitched his nose at them. “Can we help you?”

“Is this where Silvertongue lives?” Skye asked, and the woman gave them a surprised look. “Come in,” she said, ushering them into the foyer.

“Twenty years, and Iorek still insists on calling me Silvertongue,” she chuckled, her pine marten dashing into the kitchen and returning with drinks for the four of them.

“So, why’d Iorek send you here?” she asked casually, sipping the tea she’d been brought.

“Well, Mrs Silvertongue-”

“Lyra.” “Lyra, then, we were hoping you could help us. My daemon, Skye…..she hasn’t settled, even after all these years. We both feel like we’re ready, but trying to hold a form makes her feel wrong, and it earned us a lot of looks in our old town.”

“I know the feeling,” Lyra said, a sour look on her face. “Although it went away after Pantalaimon settled.”

“Can you help us?” Skye pleaded, her form rippling briefly before she suppressed the changes again.

Lyra inspected Skye carefully, lifting a paw and examining her fur and eyes while the two of them shifted uncomfortably. “I have my suspicions as to what the case is, but I need to do one more thing.”

She reached into a pouch at her waist, and pulled a golden object from it. “Is that an alethiometer?”

Lyra gave them a cheeky grin, fiddling with the device all the while. “I used to be amazing with this thing, you know. Lost that skill after Pan settled, and they told me it would take a lifetime to learn again. Turned out it was like riding a bicycle after a while. Can’t really forget it.”

She turned to them. “If you want, I can use the alethiometer to determine your truth, and that might tell you why Skye there seems unable to settle.”

They barely even thought about it, each coming to the same unspoken conclusion. “Do it.”

The needles on the alethiometer began to spin as Lyra set three symbols into it, turning wildly before finally switching to two symbols.

Lyra hummed thoughtfully, placing the device back in her pouch. “The two of you are interesting ones, that’s for sure.”

“What did it say?” Skye asked.

“Well, I asked it why you hadn’t settled, accounting for your journey, and it showed two symbols. There was Moon, which can mean mystery, and then there was the Hourglass, which usually represents time and finality. It kept flickering between those two.”

Pantalaimon took over from there, explaining what the symbols Lyra set meant for the question before finally coming to what they meant. “What we think the alethiometer means is that you two have already settled.”

Skye frowned. “What?”

“I guessed from the forms you’ve taken and the journeys you’ve been on,” the pine marten said, “and Lyra had her own suspicions too. You’re a restless spirit, Skye, which presumably extends to your human there. We used to be that way as well, but we settled down eventually.”

“But,” Lyra took over, “the alethiometer also indicated finality. You’ve mentioned that Skye doesn’t feel wrong, but feels odd when she tries to stay in a form too long?”

Confused, the pair nodded.

“That settles it then,” Lyra said, snapping her fingers. “You’ve already settled, or rather, you settle by always being unsettled. Never seen this before, but I suppose it makes sense for a restless spirit to have a form that always changes.”

He didn’t know what to think. Should he be mad? Should he be happy? Then Skye started to laugh, her happiness ringing through the air.

“It makes so much sense now,” she laughed, turning her emerald eyes on him. “All those times when we could never stay still, or we’d go exploring around the woodlands, all those dreams we had of travelling the world?”

He chuckled lightly at the reminder, the idea starting to dawn on him. “We drove the teachers mad with that, didn’t we?”

Skye smiled at him, shrinking down into the form of a tabby cat before leaping onto him and curling herself around his neck. “We were never meant to be tied down, were we?” she asked Lyra, who shook her head firmly.

“I’m a bit jealous of that, actually.” she admitted. “Part of me misses the days when I had my adventures. Even Pan does sometimes, though he’d never admit it,” she said, nudging the pine marten playfully.

“Still, my journeys are over for the time being,” she said, ushering them gently to the doorway.

“I’ve accepted that by now. But it looks like yours are just beginning. Do give my greetings to Iorek for me, will you?”

And with that, Lyra grinned, and closed the door on another chapter in her life.

[bleeditout929]

I never thought we would reach this point. The point of no return. I hurt so damn much and I can’t blame anyone but myself. I’ve lost a lot in these last 6 months and I don’t know how to cope. I no longer have my better half and have to accept she’s I th someone else. For 5 years I’ve devoted my entire being to creating a family and still I have nothing but hurt to show for it. I’ve held on so tight just to watch her continue on the same path and tell me I’m no better. But I won’t let her take that from me because I’ve worked 3 different jobs at one point 2 at the same time. I got my drivers license and I’ve tried to push. When it came to school I waited for her but it doesn’t even matter. There’s no telling when I could have her to myself but what I do know is I didn’t have it before, I can’t have it now, and while we’re apart I’m left in the blind on how she’s going about life. She was never able to promise me we would get back together and there’s nothing she can promise me now that can help me through. I’m alone again and she still has her family. But some how through all this hurt I don’t want her to go but I can’t watch her kiss another man, watch him slap her on the ass, know there’s a man asking the woman I love to have sex with him and there be a possibility of it happening. I’m sick to my stomach with the thought of watching it for so long and to know after everything its just going to continue, pisses me the fuck off. She can never understand all the hurt I’ve sucked up because everything is “thrown in her face”, rather than an actual admission of being hurt. These men have affected my relationship and they’re still there while I’m without. I’m fucking angry and depressed and I have to figure it all out on my own. My kids are their kids again and I can’t do the back and forth of parent then just a friend of parent. I tried to force myself in place I didn’t belong and that was selfish of me. I loved her more than any person i have met in my entire life but i need to learn to love myself. I deserve to have the girl I love on my arm, in public, around my family, on dates, on get aways, without having to fear and hide. I want to tell my mom I’m in love, I want to make plans without having to have a lie to cover it up. I want people to know how happy I make my love and that our bond is the reason we smile. I don’t want to worry every time I leave what going to happen between her and the person she lives with. I hate knowing she stresses out trying to figure out who to make happy when I should be the only priority in that manner. I don’t want to feel bad that she had to “make things okay for me to come” when she should just be able to have me over. When making plans for our relationship it should only involve the two people in the fucking relationship! I couldn’t be touched because of someone else but to know you can touch someone else just fine and make a baby fucked me up but thts not something we could ever talk about. I have all these bottled up emotions and no where to put them. So much anger nd hurt that I know it’s best we take time apart because I myself am not far from snapping. I have trouble trusting the one person I devoted my heart too because of these fucking men. And all our relationship there was nothing I could do about my hurt but hope she could realize how I was being affected and hopefully Change it or bottle it up to forget about and move and hopefully never look back. I just needed her to be my happily ever after and I don't know if it’ll happen. Ida if we’ll even make it to next month do my late bday celebration. I can’t even tell her I don’t like the fact she’s moving her kids in with this man who’s been gettjng overly aggressive and tries to control you like he has the last 15 years, but that makes me the monster because I would rather we build that future. But you want to get house with this man so the kids can continue to see you both fight somewhere else then fine but, Don't ask me to be okay with it and stick around to watch this relationship that shouldve been over now continue as you move in a house while I'm by my fucking self missing you guys. Why should I put myself through that? I’ve been here and I want us now but she’s in her position that I’m unable to help her get out of. I can’t watch this shit no longer and act like I’m ok especially when I don’t have to anymore. I’m not okay and I’m not going to pretend anymore just to watch them fucking be a couple for another 5 years it’s all fuckin bullshit. I deserve better! I deserve more! I deserve a real relationship where touching each other doesn’t have a fucking consequence! I get paranoid to have conversations because I have to make sure I don’t say anything incriminating. Loving her had so many consequences that it drove me crazy, literally. I just hope we didn’t emotionally fuck each other up by denying rational feelings and forcing ourselves to think , act, live another way. I support her happiness but I won’t be okay watch in her go deeper into the shithole she’s stuck in, I’ve forced myself to sit through enough. That divorce wont happen anytime soon and it sucks because I dont know where our hearts will go as time passes. Right now I know her not talkin to me relieves so much stress I can hear the difference when we talk on the phone. Her without me is the best for her right now to because she can make those decisions without my hurt included. I should’ve never been included. I hope things go as she plans but I have to go off my own plans now and I’m scared. But if I focus on my reasons for doing this I might be okay. Lord please give us strength because I I want the chance to do things right. I just hope nothing happens in between that stops us from being together happily. And part of me is excited to chase her again I just hope this time there’s no boundaries. I pray one day we can have what we worked so hear to maintain and in the meantime I hope we are able to heal and our friendship grow. I will always love her and she will ways have a special place in my life and my heart. I’m going to miss you Beautiful. God Bless and Good luck.

[bertievi]

Mun ramble and it's a biggie! Sorry!

I woke up and had this strange twisty time thing where I was convinced that I was still part of that group I've mentioned before on here and was mad at myself for not having left already. It was a wired ass feeling! 

Until that hand over of power from the first admin onto the new plot, everything felt like it had been fine and dandy. We were all friends, sent Christmas cards, talked on whats*app and sk*ype until the early hours, you know the general rp experience after years of writing together and helping to build a world and develop characters so much that I was convinced my muse would remain a pernament muse. He's since gone, alas but he truly was my best developed muse because I played him for hours on end in realtime chat, night after night after night. He had so much backstory, elements the show didn't explore that were fundamental parts of his nature, it was great fun! 

Thinking back though, while the IC was five years worth of pages and pages of rping every night, the OOC was horrendously toxic. I was in this group through my uni years, I worked in retail through uni too which left me limited time as it was to actually do university work, but I felt like I needed to rp for my sanity’s sake. Unfortunately this sort of dependency on the group meant I was the coward who turned a blind eye when the admin, who I thought of as a close friend, turned on fellow group members viciously. She would vague about a characters actions that were, well in character and rage out when her victim picked up on it. 

Her plot was a good one, don't get me wrong she was a brilliant writer, but when things didn't go her way or someone disagreed with something she said in the OOC she would disappear for a couple of hours or even days, which is just a no-no for an admin of a realtime group. When she returned, she would sulk with this person, ignore all attempts of their apology and then after a few days say she was sorry herself and insist that the whole thing be dropped without discussion, which naturally deprived the other person of even defending themselves.

She was matriarch of the group and it was probably a missed opportunity to study the psychology of an online hierarchy because damn did I fall into that mentality. I was beta and didn't want to risk losing that position in the group. What's terrifying, it's only in looking back do I realise this even happened at all. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it sooner or doing something about it! 

As the years went on though, she had turned on me once or twice, she and another of her favourites would discuss my character’s actions in the public chat in full view of me and everyone else, making up reasons for his behaviour that I did not agree with but spent too long going without saying a word for fear of this sulking retaliation. Lord, if you did argue it out she would do all she could to guilt trip you into believing that it was you who was at fault, not the character or her for not allowing you to defend your characters actions. We lost over ten people to this retaliation and quite often at points in the plot where it would impact on how things would work out. If the other Mun beat her to the vanishing act, she would post some gabble about how she was upset and had to step back for a bit before doing so. This seemingly turned her into the victim and people, including myself, were on her side when this happened. 

Those that did leave, she would then claim they had been abusive to her in private messaging, demanding even in texting or generally a psycho that she was glad to be rid of and that the group was now a safer place to write in. I didn't notice at the time but quite often those that she argued with the most didn't actually announce they were leaving. It was only after getting admin passage in the chat itself that I could see they had since been blocked, though even in messaging them via whats*app they did not respond to me. Which in hindsight was completely understandable since it seemed as if I was entirely on the admins side. But these accusations of abuse would last for the duration of the chats life, convincing people after years of talking with them that these stories had to be true.

Of course as time passed, I became wise to this act and when I saw the tension building between her and another Mun, I would warn them and then message the admin privately. This allowed her to rant about this other Mun via a private message instead of in the main group for all to see, this prevented OOC drama so often that people just seemed happier and we seemed to grow closer as a group. We lost no one during this time, people could come to me if there was an issue and I would offer them advice on how to fix it or confront the admin myself and make it seem like I had noticed it before the other Mun had said anything. Though by happy accident, this was the start of a shift in power. 

When I was online, others felt as if they could talk more about their characters, what they were doing and how they were reacting. As an admin to the chat, I gave all of them the power to delete their posts, to re-write them, and as the original plot drew to a close, I was nominated to run the next plot, all of which I ran by the original admin (without revealing method) to which she agreed. My plot needed certain things to happen in order to work, but they were things I could put in the daily starters and when I retired to bed, the plot could easily continue without me while the characters worked on putting the pieces together. I had a muse in the ‘good guys’ group to pick up on things they missed when they consulted with him if they were really stuck on the clues and puzzles. The chat was never quiet, people were writing near constantly but there was always time to catch up on what had happened, things at least felt to me like they were much less pressured.

As my plot got to what was basically the the first major turn in events though,  one brave soul the former admin turned on publicly while I was asleep, told her she wasn't the admin anymore and didn't get to throw her weight around about how a character that wasn't hers should behave... well things took a serious turn in the wrong chat! 

The plot took off with eight people, one of which was a new comer to the group. After this incident, I began to notice that there was much less discussion in the OOC chat, that what was said was more about solving the puzzles of my plot rather than anything it used to be regarding personal things be they good or bad. The new comers character was a little problematic with the plot but I tried to adapt to allow them to play, though they wined OOC that I was hindering their muse... but they couldn't just find my villain because they were an angel... no one even knew who the villain was. I started to notice that the former admin and the afore mentioned favourite would be online together in the chat at ungodly hours, the chat silent but informing me of activity on the page regardless, which was informing me of private messaging. I could sense a tension and a shift. One person which used to bubble with excitement when she had cracked part of a code stopped talking to me altogether, chatting in the group but not to me. 

Two of the others said they were involved in another plot on tumblr and left suddenly and together. Another stopped interacting in the OOC chat completely, just focused entirely on the IC and nothing else until she stopped signing in too. Down to five members I wondered what had gone wrong and asked the remaining what they thought. Apparently the main concern was that my mastermind villain was human and therefore couldn't possibly be best their inhuman muses in a game of cat and mouse, that regardless of the muses intelligence, a power to locate anyone existed and they would use it even though they didn't actually know who they were looking for... and that's was it, that was their reasoning. I explained that they were up against Moriarty, that the NPCs they had met were all former muses of mine adapted to the plot and that Moriarty had buried himself in a hierarchy and hidden behind his reputation, they had actually met him several times and confided in him which of course he had used to cover his tracks. This was not liked at all and an argument erupted over  Moriarty as a character.

Now... I have always been fairly good at spotting a writing style. I used to be able to identify an online user by how they wrote very easily, less so now because there are soooo many people. But in a group of five, including myself noticing that two of the four I was talking to were the same person was... well, startling. The admin had created another identity, a new muse and had joined the group, the false Mun had been invited in by the former admin so really I should have put the pieces together sooner. I can't think why she would have done it, I allowed for multiple muses from the same Mun so there was no reason for IC purposes, which meant there was only OOC reasons.

I'm not that much of a wiz at computers but given the resources I had as admin of the group, I could look up an IP address and low and behold! I was right. Bizarrely the former admin defended me against her alter ego but I had already seen it was her behind both names. The two others, the afore mentioned favourite and the Mun which used to message me about cracking the codes were what were left. I was falsely outnumbered. I warned the code cracker what was happening and then set the plot up to finish in the IC before walking away. Years worth of writing wasted and gone because of one poisonous person.

I'm not proud of what I allowed to happen in the past, I don't like that I never confronted the former admin head on and I hate that I let her beat me. I know for a fact the chat is still open, likely I am another name on her ‘psycho’ list and will be discussed for years to come by people who don't even know me and are going on the admins words alone. I had once considered her a friend but if I have advice for you all it's that some people are simply looking to control not just your character but your online presence too, even friends are selfish and it is SO EASY to fall into a mentality that what's happening is normal. 

If this sounds familiar, don't make my mistake, stick up for yourself and walk away from that crap. My experience changed me, I'm less trusting but I sure as hell am determined never to let that happen again,  not to me nor anyone I see on the dash. 

[veryfineday]

Sunday 19 February 1832

8 35/..

12 3/4

L  +  L  L

fine but dullish morning Fahrenheit 56 1/2ºat 9 40/.. in my room and 42º at 10 in the balcony - at 8 1/2 Letter from my aunt Shibden 3 pp.[pages] ends and under to say she had had a begging letter from a James L-[Lister] saying he was the younger son of mr. william L-[Lister] of Laugharne - having lost his father at the age of three years and being the youngest of ten children had not had the same advantages of education as his older brothers -

‘am at present an officer of excise. and am in a fair way of being promoted which will attend with a little expense and absence from home - having a wife and small family whatever trifle mrs. Lister will have the goodness to bestow nice be highly expected of’ ..... James L-[Lister] officer of excise Birdgend, Glamorganshire’ - there would be no end to this - It is an odd sort of begging from a person one Knows nothing about, and who has respectable relations near to him - better, it strikes me, to take no notice of such a letter -

my aunt has found a lease granted to Benjamin Bottomley’s father in 1799, and this matter and the coal road settled about, my aunt supposes, by this time - John’s son has written for a frocK coat waistcoat, and malls, and gaiters - my aunt wrote to tell Scott to get them if wanted and send the bill to her - It should be ascertained what the boy can earn, and he must worK for his clothes, and trouble his father and anybody else longer than necessary -

my aunt says the town of H-x[Halifax] and neighbourhood is very sicKly - the history of YorKshire complete to and including the 49th no.[number] - but there are more nos.[numbers] as far as 70 at least for my father has got that number - they talK then of a property tax to commence at £500 a year  from 7 1/2 to 10 per cent -

br[eak]f[a]st at 10 5/.. - miss H-[Hobart] and I at church at 11 - mr. west preached 31 minutes from 2 Kings i. 20 - Set thine house in order for those shalt die - asleep - on coming home read or looKed over the paper and came upstairs at 1 1/2 - wrote the above of today - from 2 10/.. to 4, wrote 3 pp.[pages] and long ends very small and close and under the seal ditto ditto to my aunt 

‘my dear aunt  On consideration, I am really and decidedly of opinion, the best thing you can do will be to take no notice at all of the letter - ..... I suspect the thing exceedingly - a respectable officer of excise has no business to make such applications - he has respectable relations near him; and I am, on every account, persuaded, you had best give him no encouragement to expect anything from us -  Rely upon it, his cousin of Swansea would be very much annoyed, did he Know of the thing - and, were it advisable to make any inquiries at all, it might be better for you to write to mr. John L-[Lister] senior, then to the clergyman of the parish - But thinK about it, and I am persuaded, you will agree with me, that, in this case, you and I had best have nothing to do with the applicant - Perhaps he may not write again - I would leave even two letters unanswered; and if, which is perhaps unliKely, he should write 3 more, maKing four altogether, I would copy them all or at least the last of them mentioning having had 3 before in a letter to mr. J.L-[John Lister] of Swansea, and enclose him a 5 pounds banK of England note begging him to dispose of it as he thought would do most good to the applicant, and desiring, at the same time, that you might not be troubled any more, as all you had to spare for clarity was called for at home -’

‘Somehow or other, I have not yet had resolution to execute the will made by Lawton the proctor, and that you read over - the thing is, it is not, as I told you at the moment, exactly what I intended; but I hardly Know how to mend it just now - it would be far better than no will, and I thinK of executing it - or I may have some alterations made in London - If anything happens to me in the mean time, I am satisfied to thinK, there is a short will properly executed, in the middle drawer of the deal chest in the blue room, leaving everything I have to you’ -

said that John’s son ought to be taught to feel that he had only his own exertions to depend it would not do now that he was put into a way of getting his bread to be writing home for things - my aunt had asK Scott what wages he thought it right to give him, and not pay them to the boy himself till his father was repaid for the clothes he now bought for him - had better asK Scott’s real opinion of the boy, and say that tho’ she would do anything for him that was necessary, he must depend only on himself -

mentioned having engaged Francesco Bado from some time in April - very little and slim but looKed quicK and clever and would do anything - drive or cooK for me if I liKed - was in good hope of him because he had lived 7 years with his last master (named him) and had a small estate near Genoa - did not say he was married - I much better in health than I was at first, but still felt as if the sight of my booKs in Paris would do me good - If I could be off now, could sail from Dover and land at Calais with only 3 days quarantine - asK my aunt to write soon again for her letters always do me good -

at 4 began letter of condolence to miss Crompton (went downstairs and staid with miss H-[Hobart] from about 4 1/4 to 5 1/4) and wrote 1 1/2 page widely written - not much in it -

‘my dear miss Crompton  at this melancholy time I hesitate and almost fear to intrude ‘on your rememberance but even if I trouble you unseasonably I feel assured you will appreciate the motive and believe that I am unwilling you should thinK me forgetful of you in the day of affliction or the last among your friends to offer you my sincere condolence - I hope and trust that many palliative circumstances have conspired to lighten the affliction as much as possible, that you were not taKen at unawares, and that, being prepared. you are all resigned and as far as may be reconciled to this severe dispensation of providence’ -

then merely add that I hope to find Lady Herries in London in April and was sorry not to find her at home when I called in October on my return from Hampshire - my best regards to your sisters and believe me, my dear miss Crompton, ever very sincerely yours A Lister’ - copied all the above to line 17 from my letter to my aunt and wrote the rest from memory till 6 1/4 - sent off at 5 50/.. my letters to ‘mrs. Lister Shibden hall, Halifax, YorKshire’ and to miss Crompton, Esholt hall, Bradford, YorKshire'

dressed - dinner at 7 10/.. in 40 miutes - music- coffee at 8 3/4 - miss cutting scraps out of the newspapers and I looKed over Smith’s Italy - very good friends  I quiz her about her small house ‘remember (said she) I am come to Hastings’ meaning that that was not against our ultimately being together  she is much more liante than she was  miss H-[Hobart] had mr. and mr. morland calling this afternoon - Fine day came to my room at 11 35/.. p.m, Fahrenheit 58º. at 11 3/4 p.m. in my room and 41º at 12 1/2 in the balcony -

[margin: Miss H[obart] wrote this afternoon and put with her will a paper disposing of her trinkets and other such things among her friends]

[neuroworld]

Kawai Novus NV10 Hybrid Digital Piano

Introduction

Welcome to a different piano review, Stu Harrison is taking a fresh check out the Kawai Novus NV10 Piano – one among the piano industry’s most ambitious examples yet of a manufacturer successfully simulating an acoustic grand experience with a hybrid piano. We’ll be taking at the Millennium III Hybrid action with its optical sensor technology (this may be a real grand keyboard action, for those just beginning their research), we’re getting to be talking about its piano sound engine, its cabinet, all of the features, everything that you simply get as a customer trying to find a hybrid digital piano within the Kawai Novus 10. So many thanks considerably for being here. If it’s your first time here, please do subscribe the channel.

You’ll be maintained so far with all things piano. And, of course, we love the support. So many thanks such a lot for joining us. We’re getting to start directly.

Background

If you’re seeing this review within the first place, you’ve entered the planet of hybrid digital pianos, and certain performing some diligent research. The Kawai Novus 10 has been out for a few time – just over a year – and has certainly received many reaction over that point. So why return to try to to a second combat the instrument? i feel when a fresh product first comes out, the hype and therefore the initial reviews can influence your own impressions, and cloud you from truly getting a way of what's there, which in fact prevents you from giving a very authentic review also. After having spend many, many hours ahead of the Novus 10 since that point, i assumed that it might be helpful to share a second perspective. i feel you’re getting to find this feedback helpful, or a minimum of certainly, I hope you’re getting to find this feedback helpful Exact match .

Sound & Action

Let’s start with the tone and therefore the sound of this instrument. I usually break up action and sound into two separate categories when I’m reviewing a digital piano because, during a lot of cases, it’s possible to speak about them as two totally separate entities. However, with the Novus 10 the mixing of the 2 is so thorough that we can’t really break up sound and tone when we’re talking about the Novus. And one among the explanations why that's, is it’s the primary piano, a digital piano that Kawai has put out that uses a full acoustic action, named the Millennium III Hybrid Action. In fact, even the lid are often began a bit like as if it were a grand. and that i can check out here and that i can see the complete key stick lengths. I can see the cap stands, I can see the jacks. It’s remarkable to think that this doesn’t look any different were I to get rid of the fallboard from a GX2.

The Hybrid Action even simulates the grand damper mechanism accurately, and as you check out the action outside of the Novus 10 cabinet, you realize that the sole two things missing here may be a string, and a wool hammer. EVERYTHING ELSE IS THERE. Some industry observers have compared Kawai’s efforts here to Yamaha’s Avante Grand action that you simply can find on the NU2 or NU3; and I’d agree that the approach is usually an equivalent, however it then comes right down to which action you favor anyway, and who has done a far better job of translating the physical motion of the key action into sound. There’s little question that Kawai benefited from Yamaha being the primary to tackle it, but in my mind Kawai has raised the bar with overall playing experience.

When I first encountered the Novus 10, I went through periods where i assumed the action felt too heavy. I went through periods where it’s like, “Ah, you know, this could be feeling more authentic than it does.” Now, as I said, I’ve come every week ago after really having lived with this for an extended time and I’ve got some recommendations on do’s and don’ts of really maxing out and enjoying what this Novus can do. Because i will be able to say this unequivocally, once I found out the way to really get the Novus found out, this is often the simplest digital piano I’ve ever played. this is often definitely the closest to an acoustic experience I’ve ever come to. I’ve played just about everything on the market, but it took me a touch while to work out exactly the way to achieve that sense of realism.

So, first of all, let’s mention the SK-EX rendering sound engine itself. So this is often a multi-channel sampling of a Shigeru Kawai SK-EX concert piano. in order that means they're taking samples from different parts of the concert piano and people are being ported specifically to different speakers with some absolutely cutting-edge Onkyo processing. And if you’re using the Onkyo headphone amplifier, you get their discrete spectramodule capable of Spatial Headphone Sound. They’re also taking a multi-velocity sample. And during a first for Kawai, the Novus 10 in pianist mode has unlimited polyphony, revealing that there’s actually quite little bit of modelling happening – to not mention a crazy level of memory and processing chops loaded in. once you compare the wav output of this machine to a number of the previous top models, the structure and detail within the output is at a completely new level of resolution – which if you’re pushing that signal through insufficiently capable speakers or amplifiers, just gets lost – but during this case, nothing is wasted.

The subtleties with which all of those additional algorithms are contributing can’t be celebrated enough. The acoustic rendering, resonance modelling, with all of their adjustable parameters, gives a surprisingly accurate output. As we were taking note of my recording of Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen on the Novus 10, if all you hear is that the audio, it completely passes for an acoustic recording in every sense. It’s the primary time I’ve ever been fooled – normally there’s some quite giveaway…like hearing some stepping between sample layers, or an inauthentic repetition or a missed note at a flash where you wouldn’t normally have heard one. It honestly came off as a true grand.

Once you’re in sound mode, you're still getting the complete power of the Harmonic Imaging XL engine, which by the other standard is superb, and still provides an incredible playing experience.