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thedeviltohisangel · 9 months ago

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All The Things I Did (2): It's All Around, It's All The Time

a/n: wanted to end with angst but i'll save it. send in blrub reqests for these idiots falling in love

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. All he had to do was ask. He had asked plenty of girls and women out on the town before. All of them had blushed and giggled and obliged with a twirl of their hair and a bat of their lashes. But this one. Cass. She was something else entirely.

John didn’t ever think about deploying overseas resulting in him standing outside the mess hall, hat in hand and a bouquet of flowers sweatily gripped in his hand, pacing and muttering self-encouragement under his breath. You’ve done this a million times. You just ask. So what if she says no? There are a million girls trotting around here you’ve already charmed.

“Major Egan?” Shit. He had thought she was already in there, now he looked panicked and not at all manly. “Am I late?” She checked the watch on her wrist, knowing she would never not be on time down to the minute.

“No I thought you’d be early so I was out here talking myself into asking you to dinner.” There was no better way to say it than to just say it. He expected her to look shocked or abhorred. Anything but the look on her face that made it seem that is exactly what she was expecting.

“Are those supposed to go with the offer?” she asked as she motioned to the grouping of wildflowers he had tasked the children who followed Lemmons around to help him pick. He held them out sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as she lifted them to her nose.

“They’re not much-”

“They’re lovely.” She smiled, a real smile, and he felt a weight lift off his chest and his own smile spread across his face in kind. “Is dinner here or somewhere else?”

“Was thinking somewhere off base. Show you the John Egan worth knowing.”

“You’ll pick me up?” He nodded emphatically. “Then I will see you at 6.” That would give her enough time to finish her work day and get physically and psychologically prepared for whatever John Egan had in store.

“I’ll see you then,” he spoke with a hint of reverence in his tone, unable to even blink as she held the flowers to her nose again and damn near floated past him into the mess hall. Yes. Something else entirely.

----

She was nervous and she hated it. Hated that she was fretting over a fly away piece of hair only visible if the sun hit it just right. Hated that she only had two tubes of lipstick to choose from and neither of them were the right color. Hated that she had only reconciled breaking the rules to sneak out in anything other than her uniform to avoid Major Egan looking at any other girl in a pretty dress.

“Lieutenant Cooper, Major Egan is here for you.”

“Thank you, Mary.” Cass squared her shoulders and took one last steadying breath. She had faced down much worse. German border guards. Handsy bankers. Her mother when she enlisted instead of marrying Sidney Landry.

“You’re out of regulation,” were the first words out of his mouth when she finally stepped outside.

“Astute.” He opened the Jeep door for her, helping her in before rushing to his side.

“You look lovely.” He meant it sincerely. One of the most beautiful sights he had seen even before the war. And he was sure she would be even for long after.

The ride to a local pub was pleasant enough, John laughing at her earnest attempts to keep her hair in place in the breeze, making her laugh with her whole heart as he sang along to something on the radio. Sang or yelled, the verb was up for debate. He was a perfect gentleman, opening doors and pulling out her chair.

“You’ve given me plenty of grief over my debutante manners all in the hopes of covering up your own,” she mused as he returned from the bar top to their table with a couple of glasses. Coca-Cola for her, a pint for him.

“I’m not a neanderthal,” he quipped back. John went to raise his glass to his lips when he stopped, her hand resting lightly against his wrist.

“Not before a toast.” She cleared her throat. “To kicking Hitler’s ass and looking damn good while doing it.” The beer almost couldn’t get between the lips of his smile.

“You’re very surprising.” Cass hummed in acknowledgment. “I like it.”

“Like it? You like an ice cream flavor over another or you like the color of the tie your parents buy you for Christmas.”

“Well, love is a bit presumptuous, Lieutenant, but if you’re that taken-”

“Smitten. Tell me you’re smitten with me.” There was a dare behind her eyes. Daring him to dip his toes into shark-infested waters.

“I’m smitten with you,” he relented. John thinks she blushed. But before he could tease her about it, a pile of fish and chips was being placed between them.

“Miss Cooper, I wasn’t expecting you tonight! I got a fresh batch of my sponge in the back. Make sure you save room.”

“I will, Patricia, thank you.” John smiled at the interaction, enjoying this version of Spook. She was much more free off base. Captured the attention of everyone she came into contact with. He could only assume these were natural attributes for her job. Alleged job.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” she asked with a pop of a chip into her mouth.

“Wrap everyone around your finger in an instant.” He reached for her hand halfway across the table, Cass offering it instantly, filling the gaps in between her fingers with his own to emphasize the point.

“I could give you the same answer I told an empty suit in Washington a few years ago but the answer you want, it’s something I think you have to answer yourself, Major Egan-”

“John, please, Cass.” He was drowning in whatever this was. Needed her to give him an inch just to stay above water.

“John.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles one by one.

“Again.” She swallowed, mouth running dry and eyelids feeling heavy.

“John.” He could feel her pulse in her wrist. Flickering quicker ever so slightly. He thinks he could lose himself in this game. Willingly go insane if it meant having her look at him like this. “I’m smitten with you, too.”

----

Somewhere between the fish and the chips and the sponge and the more than a few pints, John had decided those two bikes out front were going to be his. And they weren’t for sale. So he had to earn them. Why not have some fun in the process?

“Aren’t you going to tell him he doesn’t have to do this?” Cass had thought about it but enjoyed the look on Bucky-no that was too much-John’s face to stamp out the fire.

“Major Egan, it’s just a stupid bet,” one of the British soldiers tried to reason with him.

“I have to do it now. Can’t look like a man who doesn’t follow through on his word in front of my girl.” My girl. That had slipped out when he was refilling his pint glass two or three pours ago. She was still tingling with the warmth it had provided.

“Who’s it gonna be then, Major?” Everyone echoed the call.

“I’ve played everyone,” he paused to hiccup, “and you Irish are about as good as hitting that bullseye as you are hammering your nails.” He pointed at a gentleman named Tommy and called him the best darts slinger in all of East Anglia, grabbing the apple to ready himself for the shot. Cass had resigned herself to the corner, content with watching John from afar.

“You two have been so cute together all night! Why don’t you go give him a good luck kiss?” A group of girls, around her age, had been at the pub either with their own soldier or hoping to find one. They had been longingly admiring the interactions between Cass and John. Like they were in their own little world in the corner of that pub.

“I don’t want to distract him,” Cass protested but she was already rising from her chair and smoothing her skirt.

“I’m sure he will find it a worthy distraction.” The cacophony of giggles followed her to her Major, Cass plucking the apple from his hand purposefully.

“Don’t go losing an eye,” she whispered.

“Fond of them already?” Her lips pressed together to block her words of agreement from slipping out. “Tell you what. I win those bikes from him but I want a kiss from you.”

“A kiss? That’s hardly a prize. Last I counted, you’ve kissed me plenty.” It was true. When she hadn’t rebuked his lips against her knuckles, he had moved to her palms and her wrists and had taken on the habit of kissing the top of her head every time he stood to refill their drinks. God, he had even allowed himself a sinful press of his lips to her forehead when they had swayed to the record playing in the corner only a handful of moments ago.

“A real, proper sweep you off your feet and make your head spin kind of kiss.”

“Then I guess that is worth playing for.” She handed him the apple and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek either way.

“Alright, Tommy, just not the eye.” Cass held her breath as the dart sailed through the air and let it go once it lodged neatly into the apple on John Egan’s head. The whole place erupted and she watched with a smile and a shake of her head as he hoisted Tommy into the air. He caught her eye and smiled like a champion, straightening his jacket before walking towards her. Her arm extended to hit his chest once he was within reach.

“Outside.” The air inside was suffocating, especially under John’s lovestruck gaze. Her head already felt like it was spinning and he hadn’t even tried to kiss her yet.

“This seems sturdy enough,” he said with a wave of his hand towards a stone wall lining the road.

“Sturdy enough for-” she gasped as his hands grabbed her waist and lifted her on top of it. Their height leveled within a few inches. Instinctually, her fingertips found the hair at the nape of his neck and found purchase. He leaned forward until there was no moonlight between them.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered. She chased his question with her own answer, her lips meeting his and a symphony echoing in her head. John met her in kind, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand and stroking his thumb once, twice, three times.

“John.” It was a near moan. She wanted more, more, more. Her shoes fell off her stockinged feet, heels digging into his back to bring him closer.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me.” He said all the words with one breath to minimize the interruption to the havoc her lips were wreaking on his heart. His arms wrapped tighter around her waist, lifting and turning so he was on the wall and she was on his lap. Cass relished the change in position. Mewling when his hands slid up from her ankles to her thighs and settled at the hem of her dress.

“I need to catch my breath.” She pulled away slightly and pressed a teasing kiss to the tip of John’s nose.

“That feels nice.” She giggled and kissed him again. “You all caught up on your breath?” Cass nodded and with a smirk, she crashed against him over and over again. And if he whispered again how he was smitten with her. And if she rubbed her nose against his with something more than smitten in her intention. And if John Egan looked back on that night from the confines of a POW camp in Germany, that was just between them, the moon and the stars.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfiction #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic

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lemuriz · 28 days ago

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Stamp templates and how to use them on ezgif/ibispaint (pt 1)

Hello! I have a pretty good understanding of how to use stamps now, so I wanted to give a little guide on how to make them.

So first, I'll be starting with the classic stamp template I use. First- find an image you want to use. then get a stamp template. I'll be using this one.

you want to make sure that the image you are using is rectangular or a big enough square that you can fit it inside a rectangular box, of which the total outside will usually be 99x56. which is the classic stamp template canvas. not all stamps are this exact size though.

if you are making a STATIC image in ibispaint or another art program, simply trim the image with an eraser tool until it fits inside the box and is not showing over the stamp. you can turn down the opacity and then put on the stamp over it to better see where the stamp is so you don't accidentally overtrim it, if you'd like.

then, what I like to do is take a color palette or funky image and clip it onto the stamp template so that it looks colorful. you can also just use the filter tool.

Then, for future stamps, simply clip over the new image you want to use onto the first image you made and voila it's the right size and you don't have to do this process ever again.

How to make animated stamps: under the cut.

So you wanna make animated stamps? well, it's a bit more complicated but still pretty easy.

First, find an animated image. the best format for this to save steps is a .gif image. otherwise, you might have to convert your base image when you upload it later. then, find your stamp template. for this I will be using the same template as before.

The hard thing about this is that you have to know the amount of pixels in the stamp template. This stamp template is exactly 99x56. then, we count how many pixels it takes to reach the image height wise and width wise, and then subtract- and this equals what we need to crop our gif to. You will need an art program to calculate this if you are figuring it out on your own. I usually draw a line at the bottom, and then at the side. if it's a weird stamp that has varying lines, it depends where the deepest pixel into the image is.

for our example stamp, the dimensions are then 95x51

Aswell, for cropping on ezgif, you have to use the overlay function to put your stamp onto your gif! but the weird thing is.. it doesn't know where to put it automatically. So you have to tell it. It's basically a guessing game, I don't know the method to the madness. But for this one, you overlay it at 45 left and 23 top. Who knows why.

the final step- go into crop, and select "trim transparent pixels around image". this will make the gif approximately the right size.

Here's some examples for other stamp templates.

#decome #web graphics #webcore #rentry graphics #f2u stamps #da stamps #stamps #stamp making #stamp collection #deviantart stamps #web decor

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wen-kexing-apologist · 1 year ago

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Who is Mew Anyway?

I realized we are over halfway through Only Friends now, and that I have only talked about Mew once in my write ups. Which…makes sense for me, all things considered, until now he’s kind of been a blah character in my eyes. And I am leaning in to and really appreciating how intentional that is beginning to feel on behalf of Jojo and co.

When you think about it, until literally halfway through the show we have known almost nothing about Mew besides the fact that he is the table keeper for his friends, he is a hotel management student, and he’s a virgin. If you asked me to list any other facts about Mew’s life or his role in life, I would not have been able to answer much of anything.

And that’s because Mew isn’t really anything. Personally, I feel like Mew thinks he has a strong sense of self and the second that something comes along to question that, all those illusions he has of himself start crumbling. When I look at Mew’s character, and I mean start getting in to the nitty gritty of Mew’s character, I don’t think Mew has any idea who he is. Which, for a show about college students is fucking brilliant. I thought I knew who I was in college, and then I graduated and promptly became queer and trans. I thought I knew what career I wanted, and then I ended up going to grad school for something outside of my initial plans. I know @waitmyturtles mentioned something similar about trying on different personalities in college in her Episode 7 Review.

Think about Mew’s apartment, it was his mother’s old place. He took it over after she moved out. He didn’t choose this place, we can’t be certain this is the type of apartment or the location that Mew would actively decide to be in. When he brings Top home the first night they meet, Top comments on the place:

“Your room is nice, it suits you”

To which Mew replies ‘It’s my Mom’s old room. I decorated it using ideas from the internet”

Which says to me that Mew’s own personality, his own interests weren’t even involved in the creation of his own personal space. He decorated it based on inspiration from what other people had done to their own places. And Mew’s apartment fascinates me further, as a color-coder in BL kinda person. Because Mew’s apartment is all over the place in its decoration.

On one wall we have striped wallpaper, in orange hues.

On another we have light blue walls with white and golden patterning. A yellow couch, a blue bookshelf.

In his room he has a wall that is painted a solid green

And I can’t quite get a good image of it, but the opposite wall in his room is painted a dark turquoise with white patterning, which is different from Ray’s house, but still evokes a similar visual point of comparison.

Even Mew himself, when we first meet him is alllllll over the place with his colors. He has lines all over his shirt, with squares of different colors. His second look of the show is a solid light blue shirt over top of a striped shirt with orange, green, yellow.

His bed sheets are similarly stripes with dark gray, green, yellow, and orange.

Which is to say, at the beginning of our time with Mew, it is hard to pin down who he is as a person. He doesn’t have a color, he doesn’t have a pattern, to associate with his character. He fluctuates between rich, saturated colors and light, washed out pastels.

When I think of Mew, I think of all the outfits he’s worn that have a strong green tint to them, but honestly, looking back through his wardrobe, Mew has a broad range of colors he chooses from.

(Now, I recognize that all of this could be because the costuming department does not actually care about color coding, and that the eclectic styling of Mew’s apartment was just how it already was. And that’s fine, but I’m here so I’m gonna overanalyze it.)

All this to say that, Mew’s colors, Mews home, Mew’s pattern choices are all very disparate. All this to say that as a result I am now assuming that Mew does not know who he is, and neither do we. He could go any number of ways. Mew could go orange, yellow, green, blue. He could be complicated (with complex patterns) or straight forward (with solid colors). But none of us know at the beginning of this show quite where he will go.

Truthfully, the only aspect of Mew that I have seen be steadfast throughout the show, is Mew’s moral superiority complex. Everything else is mutable. Mew has throughout most of the show, regarded himself as a good person. He doesn’t drink much, he doesn’t dance much, he doesn’t sleep around at all, and that somehow in his mind, grants Mew the opportunity to talk down to his friends.

He’s not an alcoholic like Ray who he has no problem lecturing in the bathroom about how he is going to be dead by 30, despite knowing that Ray is/was suicidal. He’s not a slut like Boston, who is far too obsessed with Mew’s virginity, etc. etc. etc. Mew fucks with Top, deciding that he is going to wait to have sex with him for awhile. And that is his right, but Mew doesn’t say he’s waiting because he isn’t comfortable with sex. He tells Boston and Cheum that he is waiting to have sex with Top to make sure that Top is serious about their relationship. Because if Top is serious about dating Mew without sex being involved, that means that Mew is worthy of the top tier because he is top tier, and not because he is an easy lay that Top can use for bragging rights (bagging a virgin).

And I would have previously entertained a conversation around whether or not that is true, but unfortunately for any dissenters to my read of Mew, now that Mew has decided to #embracethenasty, there is no convincing me out of my observation that Mew does not know who he is.

Why? Because the second that Mew starts retaliating against Top, the second he decides to ruin Top’s life, to stoop low, to be the lesser person…Mew starts dressing like Ray. I am certainly not the first person to notice this, it has been circulating in multiple different forms across my tumblr page, but.

Gif from @firstmix

Mew doesn’t know who he is, Mew doesn’t know how he fits in to the world now that he has decided to make Top’s life a living hell. I am not convinced Mew is capable of seeing himself as a bad person, because he isn’t a slut or an addict or a cheater. [As an aside here, this is Mew’s thinking, not my own personal beliefs on what makes someone a good or bad person]. So, of course, if he wanted to become a bad person. If he wanted to play at being as toxic and terrible as the people around him, it makes sense Mew would don the wardrobe of his “best friend”, Ray. Ray, who Mew looks down on for being an alcoholic, for not valuing his life. Who Mew has told time and time again to love himself, and to quit drinking and doing drugs, as if that is going to cure Ray’s addiction. And who in under five minutes just took a blowtorch to everyone’s relationships.

Why? Because Mew is so self-righteous that he looks down on others around him. Mew isn’t ready or willing to look at and acknowledge the nasty, flawed parts of himself, so he adorns the nasty, flawed parts of others, to abstract himself from his own behavior. He uses Ray’s clothing, Nick’s methodology, and Boston’s personality to retaliate at the people he feels wronged by.

Mew uses Boston against himself, wielding Boston’s sexual prowess, his willingness to fuck, his Hunter charm to get himself in to Gap’s apartment. He uses Nick’s methodology to steal the video of Boston and lords the knowledge over Boston’s head (like Nick did to Top), and again, he is wearing Ray’s clothing. But while Mew is trying to be a chameleon in his behavior, his appearance, his strategy to get back at Top, Mew’s own flavor of flaw starts becoming ever more clear.

Mew has a superiority complex.

It is absolutely, unbelievable shitty and vile to threaten to out Boston to his father. To treat Boston’s privacy and safety with such disdain. Boston records others and he keeps those images as evidence, so Mew steals Boston’s MO. Mew takes the recording of Boston, looks Boston in the eye, and makes Boston think that he is going to hold on to that for evidence.

Now, right before this, Mew does actually draw a comparison point between himself and Boston.

“You and I have something in common.” he says

“We’re both gullible”

Mew makes Boston beg. And after he has made Boston sweat sufficiently, he throws the flashdrive on the ground. He says: “I’m kidding. No matter how much I hate you, I won’t do it. Because I don’t betray my friend like you did.

“Then I’d be just as filthy as you are.”

While Mew is able to identify a potential flaw of his own, being gullible isn’t a fundamental aspect of Mew’s personality or character, being gullible isn’t who Mew is. It’s a flaw that he is pointing out only because he is still reeling from allowing himself to be fooled by Top and Boston. It’s a flaw that he is point out so that he can weaponize his superiority complex.

In other words: “You and I have something in common, but I am better than you because I don’t betray my friends” As if he didn’t just threaten to publicize Boston’s sex life to his father, the implications of which could have a national impact.

And while it is ultimately unsurprising that Mew channels Ray in doing all of this, it is interesting. Interesting because Mew is using Ray. Mew not only knows that Ray is capable of fucking up his own life, and the lives of the people around him, he also knows that Ray is the least liked by both Boston and Top. Boston’s distaste for Ray is subtle, as his obsession with Top and Mew has been more at the forefront of his interactions with his friends. But we have seen from the very beginning of this show that Boston does nothing to care for Ray. Boston is assigned to take care of Ray and make sure he is safe when he’s been drinking too much. Boston literally never once helps Ray when he’s drunk. Boston sees Ray and Sand crossed, cuddling, and generally having a good time, and Boston goes and airs Ray’s dirty laundry. Ray is the first person to confront Boston about cuckolding Mew.

So wearing clothing that is reminiscent of Ray when Mew goes to Boston’s house to threaten him is a flavorful undertone for how Mew is hoping Boston will see him.

At the points in which Top and Mew interact during the episode, Mew is not dressed like Ray, but he sure as shit does lord Ray over Top just to fuck with him. When Top comes to apologize to Mew, Mew asks Ray to find a new designer, literally asking Ray to replace Top. When Ray helps treat Mew’s injury after the group fight, Mew decides to use Ray as a rebound. To use Ray’s feelings for him as a way to experiment, once again, with the type of person he wants to be and the type of person he wants to be with. We end the episode with Ray and Mew dancing together at the bar, Mew dressed in a very Ray style

Because Mew is trying Ray on for size, trying his fashion, his company, his lifestyle (as we see from the promo for next week) and that is prone to make RayMew crash and burn, because Ray is self-destructive enough as is, and I don’t think Mew is going to do well with treating himself with Ray’s level of self-care.

Mew doesn’t know who he is, Mew doesn’t know what he wants, the only thing Mew knows is that he’s better than everyone around him, and he can only stoop as low as them is by pretending he is them, rather than facing the fact that he's just as terribly human as the rest of the group.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #raymew #topmew #forcebook #book kasidet #khaotung thanawat #neo trai #force jiratchapong #ofts meta #ofts analysis #only friends analysis #only friends meta

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buttercupjosh · 5 months ago

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Nothing to Be Scared Of

(Gif credit to @corbincarroll)

Word count: 2,594

Genres: strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the songs “Nothing To Be Scared Of" by Kacey Musgraves (which is where the title came from) and I make references to "Dinner With Friends" by Kacey Musgraves, and "Anime Eyes" by Kacey Musgraves. I highly recommend listening to these songs before reading my story. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season. However, the 2024-25 season hasn't happened yet and anything can happen or change so don’t hold me to what occurs in the fic and if things do change in real life, I’m not going to update this fic to reflect that). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Please don’t let me regret opening up that part of myself that I’ve been scared to give again. Be good to me and I’ll be good to you but please don’t be too good to be true.” -Too Good To Be True by Kacey Musgraves

Romantic love was one of those things that had never been on your side. Throughout life, you always had unrequited crushes that never worked out and it was very rare that someone else had a crush on you. The one time you actually dated someone and opened up your heart to them romantically, it ended up failing. On the outside, your ex was a decent guy on paper but behind the scenes, he was someone who shifted into a very toxic person. The final straw came when he got a job offer that moved him away and he broke up with you because he didn’t want to be with you anymore. Since that experience, your heart had been wrapped in bubble wrap, filled with the fear that someone was going to break it again.

As expected, you had your walls up about falling in love with someone new but that started to change when you met Jamie. Your job as a realtor is what connected you to him; you were unofficially known as the team realtor for the Phillies, Flyers, and Eagles since most of your client base consisted of players and their families from those teams and you were one of the few realtors who was licensed in both Pennsylvania and New Jersey. After his first partial season in Philadelphia, Jamie was looking for a new place to live so you helped him find his new home. The reason why Jamie was moving was because Cam wanted his long-term girlfriend to move in with him and Jamie wasn’t interested in living with Joel and Morgan at their place either. Due to his age, he didn’t want to live with an older veteran on the team and their family or to reside in the suburbs. Jamie also felt like he needed a change during this new chapter of his life so he decided to live alone for the first time in his entire life.

On a Saturday afternoon before the season started, you met up with Jamie to show him one of the places you found. The penthouse was very nice and in a neighborhood he liked but Jamie didn’t like the kitchen layout so your quest to find him the best place to live continued. You kept in a lot of contact with Jamie, trying to match his preferences the best you could and also show him places where he could compromise on certain things. After lots of meetings and searching, you found the perfect place for him in the Rittenhouse Square area. Jamie was very thankful for your services and with the time you spent together, he became very appreciative of who you are as a person. You rarely saw your clients again after helping them out but you would see Jamie again sooner than expected.

————————————————————

One evening, your phone rang in the middle of the night and surprisingly, it was Jamie calling. You picked up and his voice sounded different. Of course, Jamie knew what he was getting into when choosing to live alone but it still didn’t make the feeling of loneliness on his first night by himself at his new place go away. He couldn’t sleep at all because his mind was racing and he just needed someone to talk to; Jamie could have called his parents or his brother, Charlie, or one of his teammates or old friends back home but instead, he chose you. Listening to Jamie on the phone made your heart ache a little and you just wanted to hug him to calm him down so you took the last SEPTA train to go comfort him at his apartment. He didn’t ask you to come over but you went over there out of the kindness of your heart. Once you arrived, you engulfed Jamie in that much-needed hug and all of that anxiety that was plaguing him at the moment began to slowly wash away. Neither of you could sleep so you talked to each other for hours about different things, learning more and more about each other, until you fell asleep on his couch. Instead of leaving you sleeping on his couch, Jamie tenderly picked you up and placed you into his bed. You woke up the following morning in a bed that wasn’t yours and found Jamie sleeping on the couch.

As time went on, you developed a friendship together and your hearts were quietly growing fond of each other. You spent a lot of time together, going back and forth from each other’s places and hanging out in public. On nights that he couldn’t sleep, Jamie would sometimes call you and you would have deep conversations that would go on way into the night, most of the time falling asleep on the phone together. Sure, those calls would leave you both exhausted the following day but that was your special thing and you would always pick up whenever he called. You trusted each other; Jamie told you about his past relationships in California and back in Canada and you opened up about your previous relationship but your past hurt made you very guarded with Jamie. It was almost like you were always waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you about him or waiting for Jamie to switch up the good guy act on you like how your ex did but that never happened.

————————————————————

Your birthday happened to land on a Flyers game day and thankfully, that game was a matinee game so you had plenty of time to enjoy the rest of your special day. As a gift, Jamie got you and a friend glass tickets to watch the game. During one of the media timeouts, you noticed that your name was on the scoreboard, wishing you a happy birthday; it was a nice birthday surprise. The rest of the game went nicely and the Flyers won.

To celebrate your birthday, you had an amazing dinner with some of your friends at Fiorella and Jamie offered to bring the cake. All Jamie told you was that you had to trust him and he showed up at the restaurant with a large pink cake that was covered in layers and ruffles of your favorite color. He also revealed to you that he was behind the scoreboard message. You knew that Jamie was a kind guy but the kindness he showed to you definitely took the cake.

After your birthday, Jamie’s 200th career game was approaching and you pulled out all of the stops to celebrate this milestone for him. It wasn’t a huge moment to some but it had taken a lot to get to that point. You snuck into Jamie’s apartment and decorated the place with balloons and streamers while he was away at morning skate. When Jamie returned to his apartment, you were gone but he knew in his heart that you were the only one who could have done this for him. To add to the surprises, you showed up at the game with a handmade sign, acknowledging his accomplishment. Jamie’s heart warmed when he saw you, banging on the glass to get his attention to look at what you made and he tossed you a puck. Jamie texted you to not throw away the sign because it was special to him and he wanted to keep it. After the game, you went back to Jamie’s apartment and shared a small cake with him; it didn’t matter that Torts would bag skate him if he found out that Jamie was eating sweets during the season but all that mattered was that he was sharing it with you.

————————————————————

Not long after his 200th game, it was that time of the year for the building where Jamie lived to do their seasonal pest control. He needed to be out of his apartment for a few hours for the work to be done and for the smell to dissipate so you suggested going out mini golfing at Puttshack. The game combined mini golf and trivia; Jamie was good at the golfing part and you were good at the trivia part. The game itself was way more fun because Jamie would get certain trivia questions wrong but you weren’t the best at putting the golf ball and you both jokingly teased each other about your skill sets during the game.

After Puttshack, you both wanted your time together to continue so you invited Jamie over to your place to continue hanging out. As usual, you ordered food and talked. The conversation somehow shifted to movies and you found out that Jamie had never seen a Studio Ghibli movie before so you ended up showing him some of your favorite films. While observing Howl and Sophie’s relationship dynamic, Jamie realized something very important. On one end of the sofa, you were captivated watching the movie but on the other side, Jamie wasn’t focused on what was going on, on the screen. He was too busy looking over at you through his anime eyes and a million little stars started to burst in his heart. You didn’t know it then but you would learn that he had always looked at you that way. He couldn’t say it out loud yet but Jamie was in love.

————————————————————

In a series of extremely convenient events, your mom came to Philly for a week-long work conference and Jamie’s mother, Tina, was also in town for the Flyers’ annual Mom’s Trip. Both of your moms got to observe your friendship firsthand. You liked Tina and Jamie liked your mom and both of your moms liked each other. While they were away, Tina and Jamie talked about you and she encouraged her son to pursue you. Jamie knew about your past relationship pain and it made him uncertain about whether or not to tell you his true feelings. Meanwhile, you took your mom to the airport after her conference concluded and before leaving, she imparted some motherly wisdom onto you.

“Honey, Jamie is a really nice guy and I like him for you. I know you were scarred by He Who Shall Not Be Named but you should think about opening your heart again to love”, your mother said to you.

You respectfully brushed aside her words. Jamie was a really good friend and person that anyone else would be grateful to have in their lives and you were happy that he was a part of yours. Over time, people speculated that you and Jamie were dating because of how you treated each other and the amount of time you spent together but he never formally asked you out and you weren’t sure if he had liked you romantically or just as a friend. Despite how things appeared, you remained cautious about being in love again so you strictly kept your boundaries with Jamie as friends. However, that was all going to change.

————————————————————

One early morning after spending the night on the air mattress that Jamie bought for you to sleep on whenever you slept over, you woke up early without trying and couldn’t fall back asleep so you decided to watch the sunrise. As you gazed at the Philadelphia skyline from the rooftop, it hit you; you were in love with Jamie.

It was the shape of Jamie’s blue eyes and the shape of his nose. It was the cute way he mispronounced certain words the Canadian way and also the smell of his clothes that filled your nose whenever you hugged him. It was the shape of Jamie’s heart and his kindness. It was the familiarity of taking your shoes off and leaving them by the door every time you went to his apartment. Jamie loved you in all of the ways that you never felt love before.

You were so uneasy about falling in love again because you didn’t want to get hurt again but with Jamie, something just felt so different. He was the only one you wanted to give your love to and Jamie taught you there was nothing to be scared of about being in love. You could drop your baggage of hurt and he would help you unpack them and you would do the same for him. You were so consumed by emotion and a familiar voice startled you to ask if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine but how did you know that I was up here? I thought you were asleep”, you replied.

“I got up to use the bathroom and every time I do whenever you sleep over, I always check on you. I knew you were here because I come up here sometimes to watch the sunrise or the sunset and I know that you love those colors”, Jamie said as he poked your side.

Hearing Jamie say the word love made your heart beat faster and faster. He looked over at you and could sense a shift in you.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to go back inside?” Jamie concernedly asked.

“Jamie, I have something to tell you and promise me that you won’t freak out”, you told him.

“What are you going to say that you’re in love with me? If so, I’m in love too with the beautiful person right in front of me”, Jamie confessed with a cheesy smile and the biggest blush on his face.

He took the words right out of your mouth but that didn’t make the anxiety you felt go away.

“Jamie, I love you too but I’m scared. What if we don’t work out? What if you fall out of love with me? What if this is all too good to be true? What if -?” you rambled.

“Y/n, honestly, I’ve been scared this whole time too. When I got traded from Anaheim to here, I was super terrified of this massive change. I didn’t plan on falling in love when I moved here because my future’s so uncertain at the moment and I swore I was going to be single until my next contract but then I met you. You’ve added so much to my life and I’m thankful to have you as a part of it. I know you’re afraid but Y/n, if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. All that matters is that I love you right now and I’ll love you for as long as I can. Would you be willing to take that risk with me?”, Jamie asked.

Before meeting Jamie, you almost gave up on romantic love for good but he showed you how to love without having to try so hard because he loved you for being yourself. Jamie was like a train that was only meant for you and he wouldn’t leave the station without you. That bubble wrap that was wrapped around your heart was peeling off and you just had to continue to trust that it was all going to be okay. Even if things were to change, like all things in life, you would learn from it. You had both believed that you were placed into each other’s lives for a reason. If being in love with each other was what dreams were made of, neither of you wanted to wake up. Wrapped in a tender embrace with his arms around you and sharing a sweet kiss, the two of you watched the sun fully rise together. It was officially the start of a brand new sunny day and also the start of a new romantic relationship between you and Jamie.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #philadelphia flyers #my writing #hockey writing

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wolfes · 2 years ago

Photo

[Caption: a yellow and green gif of Alina from Shadow and Bone; the first gif of her looking away from Mal fades into her crying over him. End caption.]

TRANSITION TUTORIAL by v @shangs

I got some questions about how I did the glitch effect in this set, and I think because the glitch sets with green and magenta/red and cyan protrusions like this one are more complex that the effect seems like it’s hard, but it’s deceptively simple! I’ll show you how to do transitions like this with an effect buffer in between, whether it’s a glitch effect or a light leak or anything else.

What you’ll need:

Photoshop with timeline (I use 2022)

A transition video for the effect

Preferably, a good knowledge of how to use the timeline for gifs

Two or more gifs

Tutorial under the cut!

I start out with my two gifs, sharpened, colored, on separate documents, and in timeline mode. The first thing you’re going to do is convert both of your gifs into Smart Objects, so that we don’t have to worry about all the coloring layers. Just select everything you have in the timeline, right click, and convert to Smart Object.

Now, right click on one of the gifs, select Duplicate Layer, and transfer it to the other gif’s PSD. Then just click File > Save as Copy, save the new PSD wherever you like, and close the first two PSDS, then open the copy. I recommend not saving your work in the first two PSDS with the single gifs so that if you have something you want to change, your gif isn’t locked into Smart Object Mode and you can go back to edit things.

Now, you have both your gifs on the same canvas in the same PSD. The timeline should look like this:

[Caption: A picture of the Photoshop timeline so the gifs’ boxes are in a stacked line.]

Now, drag the gif you want to go second or to ‘fade in,’ so to speak, onto the row of the first. Your gifs will automatically form a Video Group and the timeline will look like this:

[Caption: A picture of the timeline with the gifs’ boxes side-by-side.]

Now your gifs will play sequentially! I’m lucky and for some reason this almost 80 frame gif didn’t even hit 10mb, but you may need to trim some frames off the ends later if the gif is too big.

Let’s switch gears and look at this unassuming little box in the corner of the timeline. The box with the white filled in triangle on the bottom holds Photoshop’s premade transition effects. You can do things like fade to black, crossfade, just fade between two gifs, and more.

[Caption: A photo of the square on the timeline that has Photoshop’s transition effects.]

I like using the Cross Fade effect for my gifs with this method, but it’s entirely up to you what effects you apply! Some transitions may even work better without an effect. Experimentation is key.

[Caption: A photo of the timeline with the triangles denoting the cross fade effect put between the gif boxes.]

I went ahead and applied the cross fade effect to my gif, and this is what it looks like on the timeline.

Now to add the gif effect! Make the gif however you would like. For this one I actually recommend just opening the video with File > Open as long as it’s small enough, and it’ll open as a blue box on the timeline and if you right click it you can change the speed. Regardless, what I do is just make the gif, sharpen and trim to my liking, then duplicate that layer onto my timeline (just make sure that, when you click the three lines on the timeline menu and go to Set Timeline Frame Rate, that the rate of this video is the same as the rate of your two gifs from before, or you might get some choppy frames). I then place the gif around the middle, where the transition happens - you have to scrub around to find the perfect place to put it but I like to have it so that the gif covers both ends of the transition.

To put it visually, here’s the timeline:

[Caption: A photo of the Photoshop timeline with the effect overlay stacked on top of the base gif.]

Your overlay gif should be outside the video group of your base gif.

I set the overlay to Screen and change the opacity. You can also add some color overlays - I actually went in with a gradient on top of the overlay, clipped it to the transition, and set it to Color so it wasn’t too bright of a white on my gif.

Save and export as normal - I like to take it back to frames mode before I save so I can keep the frame rate at 0.05 - and that’s all! A really simple way to get a sophisticated-looking transition.

Happy giffing!

#gif tutorial #completeresources #userphotoshop #resourcemarket #userrobin #arthurpendragonns #ughmerlin #usersameera #usercim #usertix #usermarsy #useraish #tuserlucie #userzesty #userfaiths #useraphrodite #userautie #edit help #tutorial

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genericpuff · 9 months ago

Note

hello! i'm not sure if you remember me, a while ago i asked about digital art and if it's possible to do on an ipad or something similar. i was really grateful for your response and i got an ipad over christmas! i didn't realize how expensive the pencils were though and was only able to get one recently. now that i have all of that, i download the first art program i saw (ibispaint x, i don't know how good that is) and feel super overwhelmed by everything, all the tools and brushes and i have no idea where to begin. i know this is a super broad topic, but i don't know if you have any advice for a beginner hoping to become a digital artist? or know of any resources? thank you so much in advance and no worries if this topic is too broad to really get into properly!

Oh hey!! Congrats on getting an iPad! And yeah, shopping for the pens is a big pain in the butt, but I'm glad you finally got it all setup!

So most of the advice I'm gonna give you is very basic, starter advice that can apply to virtually any digital art software, as the vast majority of them are built with the exact same base tools, they just vary in their intended purposes which means they may differ in more advanced settings and what they offer beyond the basics (ex. Photoshop has more colors than Clip Studio because it's built for editing high quality photos whereas Clip Studio is meant to emulate comic art, but Clip Studio offers more in the way of comic-creating tools such as specialized rulers, 3D material support, built-in screentoning, etc. and all of the software available will tend to have different brush engines, meaning it doesn't always 'feel' the same to draw in one software as it does in another).

Your bestest friends:

Layers! This is the biggest pro to going digital, because now you can work with layers! So anything you draw on each layer is preserved and can't touch or affect whatever's on the other ones :3 You can find the layers tab in Ibis Paint X in the bottom right, don't be afraid to make a bunch of them and mess around with what you can do. Play around with the different blending mode settings (in Ibis Paint it's the menu that's labelled 'Normal' in the layers popup) especially Multiply, Color Dodge, and Overlay, as those three are the most commonly used to make coloring more efficient and give your art some extra pop.

Lasso/marquee/magic wand tools! These are basic selection tools that allow you to select an area within the layer you're working on, so that whatever you paint won't travel outside of that area. The Lasso is a free draw tool, the marquee tool is typically 4 sides by default (so squares/rectangles) and the magic wand detects and selects a closed area with one click! (just note that by default it's only on the layer you're on, so if you use it on a layer that has nothing, it will typically select the entire canvas).

Alpha locking! This is a simple button setting you can click to 'lock' the layer you're working on, which basically means that whatever you've drawn on that layer, anything you add can't travel outside of that drawing. So if you want to quickly shade something without going outside the lines, alpha locking is your solution!

Clipping groups/layers! This is a bit more advanced but is basically an even better version of alpha locking that you can use in conjunction with it. Clipping layers are basically additional layers that , when you click the 'clipping group' button, 'attaches' that new layer to the layer that's below it. It performs the same function as the alpha lock by preventing whatever you draw on that layer from travelling outside of it, HOWEVER it comes with the added benefit that it's on an entirely different layer, meaning you can erase and mess with whatever's on that new layer as much as you like and it won't hurt the base layer. It kinda follows the same logic as animation cels !

Masking! Y'know when you're doing a traditional painting, and you put down tape to cover the area so you can paint over it and later remove the tape and everything underneath is untouched? That's basically what masking is! Once you put down a layer mask, using the erase tool on it will 'erase' whatever the mask is applied to, and using the brush will make it magically return! This may sound silly at first, but I find masking is especially helpful if you want to erase something on the layer you're working on without it disappearing forever! It's also really helpful for comic work because you can mask whatever's outside of the panels and voila, nothing you draw will travel outside of those panels!

Stabilization! I don't know how extensive Ibis Paint X is with offering stabilization tools, but many digital art software comes with it and it's a LIFE SAVER for new digital artists adjusting to the feel of digital art. It essentially 'slows down' the output of the ink on the canvas which helps a lot with getting cleaner lines in fewer tries. It's not quite as big of a deal when drawing on iPads because obviously you have more control by default by drawing directly on the screen, but it can still be really helpful when you need to pace your hand ahead of the actual drawing tool to pull cleaner lines!

That's pretty much all I can think of for now! But here are some other commonly asked questions:

1.) There are so many brushes to choose from, which one do I use?

The round brush is small but mighty. Virtually anything can be painted with it, it's simple, but malleable, especially when you start messing around with the hardness and opacity settings. Don't get too lost in the sauce with the brushes that are available to you, it can be very easy to get overwhelmed by all the options and variety. Some artists still work purely with just round brushes, some artists have custom brushes they like to use to speed up their drawing process or achieve certain textures. Play around with them, but don't get too stressed about which one you use because there's no wrong answer, the right brush to use is the one that gets the job done ! <3

2.) What canvas size should I use?

It depends on a variety of factors such as whether or not you're planning to print, where you're going to be posting it, etc. By default I like to work on 8.5 x 11 inch canvases (standard printer paper size) at 350 dpi, which if you want to make that canvas in Ibis Paint X, means you just have to make a canvas with a pixel ratio of 2975 x 3850 pixels! Just note that the lower you go in either pixel count or dpi, the lower the resolution, so it's typically encouraged you work at a minimum of 300 dpi (but you usually don't have to go any higher than 600) to ensure you don't wind up with any blurry low res JPG's/PNG's.

3.) Should I export my final drawing as JPG or PNG?

This is usually just up to personal preference, but like the canvas size, it depends on what you're using the image for. You can always export as both, the biggest difference between them is that PNG is lossless meaning you won't experience image compression like you will with JPG, BUT you're also going to have much larger image sizes. JPG is often fine for any standard posting, PNG is typically recommended if you want to have a drawing with a transparent background for printing (as JPG can't do transparent backgrounds) or if you just want to have a really high res image file for sharing outside of social media sites (as social media sites like FB/IG/etc. will typically compress the hell out of your images anyways)

Here are some other super helpful resources as well if you need some visual and/or audio guides:

Sinix Design - How to Learn Digital Painting (Beginners)

Marc Brunet - The Beginner's Guide to Digital Art

Skynix Art - 50 Digital Art Tips in 5 Minutes

One thing I also like to do is watch speedpaints of digital artists as it can really help pull back the curtain on what they're doing (or at least, it can help you see what they start with which can help you better picture the process of turning a blank canvas into a finished work of art!) And though I don't do it as often, if there's an artist whose work I REALLY like, I'll try and find their actual work files (many bigger artists sell them on their crowdfunding sites/Gumroad/etc.) so that I can actually break the drawings apart layer by layer for the purpose of analysis. Of course, all that is something that you'll grasp better over time as you learn the tools and learn to recognize what artists are doing in their own workflow, so don't worry if you don't glean a whole lot of info from the "big guys" right away, you should always be referencing artists who are higher along the skill ceiling from you but not too high that they're using techniques and tools that are outside of your realm of understanding.

Other than that, just try to have fun, don't stress too much about it, and save often!!! Part of creating art is learning to be at peace with the process, so don't stress too much if it takes you a while to get adjusted to the layouts and tools - at the end of the day, digital art is another medium entirely, so it's not uncommon at all for traditional artists to need a lot of practice to 'switch' to digital, because they both utilize different tools and techniques. Be patient with yourself, always be on the hunt for new resources and guides and references, and don't be afraid to experiment and make mistakes (the best part about digital art? Mistakes don't cost you any paint or materials!)

Good luck!! And congrats again! 🥰

#ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #ama #digital art #digital art advice #art advice

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 5 months ago

Text

I was desperate for OC art and the wonderful @mimikusu agreed to an art trade. Here is the fic I wrote for Simon and Niko, based on this prompt they posted around Christmas last year. This was a treat to write and such a fun exchange. Thank you Mimi, and I hope you enjoy your fic!!

All The Way Home I'll Be Warm

“I don’t know why I put up with you, Nikolai,” Simon grumbled to himself as he threw his bags down in the hotel room he had just checked into. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, I swear.” He huffed to the window and glared at the snowflakes drifting down, scrubbing angrily at his dripping nose. The town below was already bustling with life as the Christmas market prepared to open. Colored lights, pine boughs, red and green decorations, and what looked like hundreds of merchant stalls spread out as far as the eye could see. Simon rubbed his eye, behind which a headache was already forming. He groaned, coughed, and tried to blow his nose, but it was stopped tight with congestion.

“I hate these damn festivals,” Simon growled. “Why the hell Niko loves them so much I’ll never know. God, I wish I could cancel. I already feel like shit. But he would think I’m just making excuses. Ugh.”

He let his head fall into his hand as he continued to glare out the window. He missed Niko so much, and that was the only reason he was here right now. Simon had been traveling for work nearly all of December, and it seemed like he had hardly seen his boyfriend. In a few days they would leave to see their families for the holidays, so this was their only chance to spend time together. Niko had been begging to go to this damn Christmas market for months, and Simon had finally caved and booked the hotel and flights, though he made sure to complain the whole time about the expense, and how foolish these markets were. It made Niko so unbelievably happy, though, and that was what Simon wanted in the end.

However, Simon hadn’t accounted for catching a cold at the end of his last business trip. The weeks of travel and little sleep had caught up with him, and this was shaping up to be a monster of a cold. He already had a sinus headache and a nasty sore throat, and the buzzing high up in his nose told him he would be sneezing his brains out in no time. Walking around outside in the cold, surrounded by thousands of people and bright lights and smells sounded like absolute hell. Yet Niko would be arriving any moment, ready for a weekend of Christmas cheer, and Simon couldn’t bear to disappoint him now, though he would rather do just about anything else.

“God, I’m so tired,” Simon yawned, thinking of the exhausting night ahead. “I could fall asleep here on the floor. I truly don’t know how I’m going to survive tonight.”

Yet he knew he would have to find a way. If nothing else, he wouldn’t let the expense of this trip be wasted by getting sick. This was Niko’s Christmas present, and he would get his money’s worth, everything else be damned. With a heavy sigh, Simon went to change out of his traveling clothes and into warm things suitable for a night outside. When he bent over his suitcase, though, the itch in his nose flared up into the need to sneeze. He just barely had time to press a tissue to his nose before: “HA’ISSHIEW! Hihh–HIPSHH! hhe–ESHIEW!! Ugh, that’s disgusting,” Simon groaned, trying not to look at the mess in the tissue. His nose wanted to keep sneezing, but he roughly pinched and rubbed it until the urge subsided. Just as he threw away the used square, his phone dinged with a text from Niko saying he was waiting in the lobby. Simon quickly finished changing, then went down to meet him, fiercely scrubbing at his nose to quell the itch that was already building up again.

Niko was practically dancing with excitement in the lobby, dressed in a gaudy Christmas sweater and ridiculous hat that made him look adorable.

“Oh Simon, it's so beautiful outside! I can’t wait for you to see it. It’s just magical! Oh I’m so happy to be here with you! Come on let’s go, there’s so much we have to see!”

“Don’t you want to drop your bag off in the room first?” Simon grunted, trying to hide the congestion and hoarseness in his voice.

“Oh, right. I guess we can do that really quickly. But let’s not waste any time!” Niko ran back up the stairs that Simon had just come down, not even waiting to hear the room number. With a tired groan, Simon turned to follow. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

It was exactly as miserable as Simon predicted. The cold air made his nose start dripping immediately, and it didn’t stop the whole night, so he was perpetually wiping his nose every time Niko’s back was turned, and his upper lip was raw and stinging in no time. The cold air seemed to pierce through all his layers, and he found himself shivering right away, though he kept his arms locked by his sides so Niko wouldn’t notice. The noise of the crowds and cheering and music made him want to curl up on the ground and cover his ears. The flashing, twinkling, spinning lights reflecting off of everything felt like daggers going through his eyes straight to his brain. Worst of all were the smells, though. Food, perfume, smoke, pine, candles, feathers, dust, animals, incense– everywhere he turned, something else was assaulting his nose and making his breath hitch into almost-sneezes every other moment. Many times the irritation was too much, and he was forced to stifle the resulting expulsion into his scarf, hoping Niko didn’t notice. If his partner was far enough away, Simon would allow himself to sneeze messily into the sleeve of his coat, hoping for some small relief, but with each sneeze he felt worse, not better.

Predictably, Niko wanted to stop at nearly every booth, even if it was exactly the same as the five booths they had just visited. The postman delighted over every trinket and costume and overpriced souvenir as if he had never seen one like it, and Simon had to refrain from rolling his eyes constantly, mainly because rolling his eyes made his headache worse. The only thing that helped was the mulled wine and hot spiked cider. These were the only stalls Simon asked to stop at, and from the beginning, Niko was puzzled.

“You’re having wine? I thought you said it gives you a bad hangover?”

“I’m trying to get into the holiday spirit like you’ve been insisting, Niko!” he snapped. “Tonight I’d like a hot drink, and I think wine sounds nice. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all. I just think you’re very confusing sometimes,” Niko said, shaking his head with a smile.

As soon as he would finish one mug, Simon would order another, desperate for the warmth in his hands and stomach, and he quickly lost count of how much he drank. It helped the shivering though, and numbed some of the other miseries, and he was glad for it. By the middle of the evening the exhaustion from travel and illness finally faded into comfortable drunkenness. He was happy enough to watch Niko run around and exclaim and delight over everything, like a butterfly between flowers. The postman spent far too much money, and soon he was laden down with shopping bags, but he said again and again that this was the perfect night, so Simon let him have his fun, just happy to be with him. In spite of himself, Simon had to admit the night was pretty, with the snow gently falling and the tangible Christmas cheer. He could see why some people enjoyed such things.

As the evening waned, Simon’s nose couldn’t take any more stifling, or else he was too drunk to care anymore, so he began to sneeze more openly. At first Niko laughed and thought it was cute.

“hihhgg’KIHPTCHoo! Kih’IHT’CHOO!”

“Bless you, Simon! Are you feeling alright? That’s your third sneeze in as many minutes,” Niko chuckled, running a thumb under his partner’s eye to catch a stray tear.

“I’mb fine,” Simon croaked. “It’s all the incense and cold air. And someone is smoking hookah nearby I think.” He coughed to accentuate his point.

“If you’re sure. Then let’s go over to the figurines instead to get away from the incense.”

Soon, though, Niko began to realize something was amiss.

“EhhHEHTCHHoo! Ehh–EHHIXTCHOO!!”

“God, Simon, that sounded awful. Are you coming down with something? Your nose is as red as a Christmas bulb.”

“Maybe I’m allergic to Christmas. I told you coming here was a bad idea.”

“No one is allergic to Christmas, crabby grinch. There is a lot of smoke around here, though. Maybe that’s your trouble. Let’s go over here. I think you should eat something anyway, to go along with all the wine.”

“If you insist, nurse,” Simon mumbled, unable to care about anything at this point. He allowed Niko to seat him at a filthy wooden table and place a huge plate of food in front of him, far more than he could ever eat even on his best day. He gamely munched on a few bites of everything, though he was the opposite of hungry. He was unable to taste anything, and had to take small bites because he couldn’t breathe through his nose, but seeing him eat made Niko smile, and that was all Simon cared about.

While Simon was still “eating” (mostly just pushing the food around on his plate), Niko excused himself to the restroom. Simon immediately put down his fork and laid his head on his arms, telling himself he would rest for just a moment and give his aching eyes a break.

He woke some time later to Niko shaking his shoulder.

“Simon, dear, wake up. Poor thing, you really are exhausted aren’t you? Why didn’t you say something earlier? Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. We can always see more tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure,” Simon croaked. He wanted to tell Niko that they could stay out as long as he liked, but in truth he was near collapse and going back to the hotel to curl up in bed with his boyfriend was the only thing he wanted now. As they meandered their way back to the hotel through crowds of strangers, Niko slipped his hand into Simon’s. Because he needed the extra stability, and because no one was close enough to see them, for once Simon didn’t pull away. However, he was caught in an awkward situation, because just as their steps fell into sync, Simon knew he had to sneeze. His tissues were in the pocket of the hand holding Niko’s, so Simon was forced to press his palm to his nose to catch the messy fit that followed:

“Kihht’CHOO! Err’IZZSOO! hihh–HihhEHTCHOO! EHHTTCHOO!! Hhh– hehhh– HehhEHHTCHOOOO!!”

Simon hastily wiped his hand on his pants, thankful it was too dark to see much as he mumbled an apology to Niko.

“Bless you, Simon! You need to get out of the night air, I think. I’m worried you’re coming down with something.”

“I’ll be fine when we get back inside,” Simon said with a cough. His chest hurt from stifling so many sneezes all night, and coughing made it sear with pain, even though he hadn’t had a cigarette all night.

“You’re taking a hot shower as well. I can feel you shivering,” Niko scolded. “You should have told me you were cold. You’re so stubborn.”

“Not as stubborn as you. Anyway, you were having fun. I didn’t want to spoil the evening.”

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what else we’re doing. So let’s get you warm and in bed where I can take care of you properly.”

“Is that a threat?” Simon asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Only if you want it to be,” Niko said with a wicked look of his own.

As it turned out, Simon wasn’t up for anything after he took a shower. As soon as he stepped out of the hot water he started shivering and couldn’t stop, even when Niko wrapped him in a robe, then a blanket. He also had a splitting headache, no doubt the beginning of the wine hangover he sensed was coming. As he lay groaning in bed, with plenty of sniffling and coughing on top of it all, he felt Niko come to stand behind him and press a hand to his forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a fever?” Niko tutted, placing a cold rag on Simon’s forehead before crawling in beside him and pulling the other man against his chest.

“I didn’t know I was,” Simon muttered. “It must have started recently. The cold from hell is turning into the flu I guess.” He felt warmer right away with Niko in the bed, and slowly his shivers subsided. He didn’t even realize he had accidentally admitted his illness until the other man replied:

“I was a fool to let you stay out when I knew you were sick. You never sneeze so much unless you have a cold, and you were sneezing almost every minute. Not to mention all the wine. Though I think you’re already regretting that,” he added as Simon shifted the rag from his forehead to cover his eyes instead with a moan.

“I was just trying to give you what you wanted. I don’t want to hear any more about it,” Simon snapped. “I’m only sorry this damn flu ruined our trip. All that time and money for nothing.”

“Nothing is ruined,” Niko soothed, tucking the blanket closer around them both. “We’re still together aren’t we? All alone in a hotel room for three days. There’s nothing more I could hope for.”

“I’m going to get you sick for the holidays though,” Simon spat. “You’d be better off to leave now and save yourself.”

“I’m not going anywhere, crabby. Someone has to take care of you.” He began to run his fingers through Simon’s hair, and Simon relaxed, immediately forgetting what they were arguing about under the haze of fever, exhaustion and alcohol. His heavy eyes fell closed and in moments he was nearly asleep in Niko’s warm embrace.

“That’s right, go to sleep. I’ll be right here,” Niko whispered. The last thing Simon felt before he slept was the press of gentle lips to his hair and a warm hand rubbing the aches from his chest.

#art trade #my writing #everyone is hotter with a fever #niko and simon #other people's art #sickfic #snzfic

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waywardtigersandwich · 3 months ago

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Starting to feel like astrology is a bunch of bullshit to excuse people for charging you an arm and a leg for "interpretations".

Imagine chalking up your life with the way a planet you've never lived on had moved the day you were born.

Oh your Venus is in something called Capricorn and everything in this house effects part of your life because some man said so and now others regurgitate it years later and barely try to improve or update anything about said teachings.

Ask an astrologer a question that requires deep digging into the mentality of a placement and watch them crumble. Ask them about the nodes (south and north) and they'll leave you on read because you're asking the right questions.

People with Jupiter in 8th house are not spiritual. They will not marry a husband of wealth. All of the benefits they say you get in the 8th house is really the 2nd house. Jupiter in 8th might just mean that you're into sexual discussions and stuff (imo).

Synastry is bullshit. Too many men I have witnessed will marry on the basis of their physical preference when their charts show limited connection. So that minuses out everything. I weep for people paying 50 to 150 dollars for that. Sorry Jenny, your charts look good but your hair ain't the right color and your thighs spread when you sit down. Derek doesn't like that. No matter how many astrologers take your money to prove that he's supposed to be over heels with you. Yes, I believe that he shows chemistry to the chubby girls but all he dates are the slimmies. Look at reality sis. Don't let astrologers jerk you around by telling you there's no perfect synastry to there's certain synastrys that they look for to synastrys aren't everything. They are fucking with you and us lol

Paying for Astro cartography chart readings that say your most potential for love or money making can be found in an entire different country but your astrology natal chart shows limited interaction with foreign travels.

Telling people that they are magnetic and attractive based on some squares or trines or conjuncts when those people get no romantic interests is so mean lol. No one asks them out.

One minute you need 5 or more placements to indicate something but you have 1 placement in your chart, then all of a suddenly all the issues you're having in that area of life is because of that placement. :/

The use of fear mongering is rampant in astrology. Vedic is the biggest abuser of the two but western is the most passive aggressive bitch.

Continuing from my last point, western is the most passive aggressive because they'll tell you that there's no bad chart or bad placements but just difficult ones. Then they'll give your chart a reading and say that this and that may or may not happen and then leave you to your own devices to figure out where to go from there. Afflicted, debilitated etc etc are used in astrology for a reason...why means bad, slow or hardly returning until later. Stop sugar coating shit because you want more clients.

Vedic uses the most oldest remedies that people outside of India don't even do. No offense. How many of us are near a cow right now? How many of us are near some rare mineral or near some spiritual statues that did not originate from our country? How can we use things to remedy us when we aren't familiar with them and they are not within our possible reach?

Capricorns are Taurus and Taurus are capricorns.

Scorpios are the cancers and the cancers are scorpios.

Pisces are the Aquarius's and the Aquarius's are Piscean people.

Leos are libras and libras are Leo's.

Geminis are Sagittariuses and vice versa.

Using Neptune and Uranus as indicators of mental illness and confusion while also using them as indicators of psychics and mediums for the spiritual world is nasty work lmfao.

Stop telling people that you don't read illness and health concerns in a chart yet allocating illness and health issues in houses on a chart. It's bullshit .

The fact that you have 50-11 persona charts within a natal chart shows that your overall existence in the astrological world is stupid. All of it is stupid. All of it means that you will have different outcomes in life because why the fuck not. It shows that astrology is unreliable. How can you draw proper conclusions when each chart displays a different energy?!

Oh and your perceived attractiveness and/or experiences might just be affecting your dating life. Not saying you're ugly or whatever but the places or people you're around just may not like you. Don't let astrologers tell you that the reason you can't get a proper long term relationship is because the stars want you to love yourself ...even though you already love yourself. Think about how often you spend time actually dating. If you spend most of your life single then quite naturally you will have a hard time because you don't know how to date lol. Less applications means less job experiences.

I feel like the only things astrology has gotten right is that I do like art and my father has never had a close relationship to me, and that my mom can be a lot emotionally, and yes, I do spend lots of time on my own.

Asks 5 astrologers your career in a chart and watch how none of the answers match :/ . I was told in one chart that I would be an astrologer guru, one would be a teacher of the arts, one said I would be or needed to be in IT and the other said that I could be a physical representation for medical promotion to communities. Another said I should be a surgeon and not a nurse because I'm too hotheaded to be bossed around. Yes. Let me just get up and sign for medical school . :)

#astrology #astro observations #astrology is bullshit #waterfallofthoughts

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mchlgayser · 2 years ago

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✮ the first meet ft jobe bellingham

synopsis: Tired of video calling and online messages? Try to book a flight to London, England, and meet your boyfriend.

─── ୨୧ warning: none

─── ୨୧ notes: this is based on this, this, and this request. I try doing this request as best as I could (I swear) might not be as good as anybody out there but I try. I said this once, and I will say it twice, I'm a sucker for Jobe Samuel Patrick Bellingham so much I think I needed a therapist. Anything includes him in my writing, I'll do it twice difficult 🤞🏼

Your phone sat on the nightstand table beside your bed, your friends on the other line waiting and choosing dresses for you to wear because you simply could not decide. You throw them to pair of different crop tops, the first one is a simple puff sleeve crop top of your favorite color, it has square neck line allowing you to decorate yourself with a much more prominent accessories whilst the other one is a black floral print frill trim with sweetheart neck and bishop sleeve crop blouse.

You show them the top two of your choices and they picked the black one as they said; easy to match. You wore your high waist black jeans and your sash. You put on your top decorating your collar with eggshell white pearl necklaces, a pair of piercing, and even the matching bracelet your boyfriend got you.

'So, how do I look?' You told them as you turn around from left to the right to give them better access to your full fit 'Try and push your hair back a little..' You did as said when you heard 'Okay, stop!' Your hand froze on top of your head but slowly began to remove it 'Gorgeous! Perfect! Chef kiss!' You laugh at their exaggerated statement, picking up your phone and adjusting it to the bathroom to let them accompany you while you do touch up on your makeup.

'What time will you leave?' You glance at your wrist, 'Four I think? His practice starts at five.' You put on some more lip gloss and puck your lips out 'Good?' They all nod showing you massive thumb-ups 'I will leave now, see you later!' You throw them a flying kiss before you abruptly ended the call.

You stepped outside of the elevator straight to the lobby entrance seeing the Uber you picked had arrived and is parked just in front of the automatic sliding door. You entered the car, greeting the driver in the process before you inform them of the address to the place. It wasn't a long ride but it wasn't short either, you manage to exchange quick talks with them, they asked you what you were doing in London and how's the experience so far. You told them that it was good and that you are here to meet your six months year old boyfriend.

The car halted right at the venue's main gate allowing you to get out easily and pass through, you thank and tip the person before you stroll inside the auditorium. You make a quick call with a friend whom friend with your boyfriend and notified them that you've had arrived. It was a three minutes wait before they arrived, panting hard.

'He's in the changing room,' You both rush to the team locker room, on your way there, proceeding to greet each person you came across and stop right in front of the door.

Jobe on the other hand had just completed changing his garment to his practice attire. All the while he was changing, his other hand is practically inside his palm, easy for him to be sure you had reply to his text this morning.

Belly Ham

Mornin' 😽

Had your breakfast yet?

delivered

But to no avail, you hadn't replied to him, you might have activated the app once or twice after the texts but he never gets a reply back, like you were avoiding him. He sighs in defeat plopping the phone inside his duffel back and wearing his glove. A knock on the door infuriates him because the other person keeps knocking constantly, he was sure he didn't look at the door and sure he didn't. It was unlocked but the person on the other side just had to ruined his already wrecked mood.

'What-' His voice stuck from the back of his throat because right in front of him, no screen separating - is his girlfriend.

You watch him in amusement, his ears grew red maybe from the cold? His eyes shimmer on yours without no words spoken for the other minutes and suddenly your body collided against his into a bone-crush hug. His hands snake around your back pressing your body closer to his. Your hands at both of his sides clutching on his jersey.

'Surprise...' You said, voice croaking at the end feeling overwhelmed with emotions, he went to snoop you in his arms once more and chuckle 'I can't believe you are here! I never thought I could meet you so fast!' He beams and went to separate the hug to examine your face.

'At last.' He confessed, temple lightly brushing against yours, his eyes glimmering with stars and heart 'I will cherish this moment forever with you..' He whisper, leaving a soft kiss at the crown of your head.

'That's enough, continue your lovey-dovey section after the practice. Jobe, stop being so cringe for God's sake!' They joke earning a playful scowl from your boyfriend.

You are delighted. You know this time in London will the best memories you've ever had. All thanks to one particular person.

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badbatchposts · 4 months ago

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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 21

Fic Teaser: While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20

Chapter 21 summary: Omega encounters a stranger on Rex's base, and the clones get some answers.

Omega was finally content again.

Sure, she loved being on Pabu, and—for the first time ever—had even chosen to stay behind while her brothers went on a job for Cid. It had disappointed her when Hunter holoed to say that they would have to be away a while longer, but still, she was doing fine, enjoying her time with her friends, keeping up with her training.

But when they called and said they still wouldn’t be coming back for her—and that they were even planning on going to Rex’s base without her, which was unfathomable—she decided she had had enough.

Her brothers really underestimated her sometimes. Yes, she was a kid, and she was still learning. But it hadn’t been hard at all to make it here on her own.

Of course, they weren’t too happy about how she’d done it.

But even then, Rex could always use a new ship, and hers—yes, hers, she’d won it fair and square, but she was happy to loan it to the Captain, since she already had the Marauder—was a beauty. That pirate captain had even been rather nice, he was funny. But terrible at sabacc. Even when he was cheating.

Hunter and Echo had given her a scolding when they arrived, which was undermined almost immediately by Wrecker and Tech’s eagerness to hear the story and all of their happiness at finally being together again. And now she was excitedly exploring the base while the others spoke worriedly with Rex. She would find out what was going on later, whatever it was that had kept Crosshair back at the Marauder. Sometimes Hunter liked to protect her from the things they were concerned over, but she knew they would eventually tell her all about it. They would need her advice, after all.

But until then, she had plenty of time for enthusiastically running across the bridges that linked the base’s many interconnected, covered platforms, gazing into the shallow water of the grassy wetlands below and spotting the brightly colored flying fish that alternated between diving beneath the surface and flapping through the air. Omega slowed as she crossed one bridge and approached an open-sided platform hosting a brightly lit communications array at the center, where a silver-haired woman was tapping away.

“You’re not a clone,” Omega observed. She had never seen a non-clone working with Rex and the others outside of Senator Chuchi and her guards on Coruscant. “What are you doing?”

The woman glanced up. She looked the young girl over for a moment before turning back to her work calmly.

“You must be Omega,” the woman replied.

“Yes. What’s your name?” Omega asked.

“Dara.” The woman wasn’t very chatty, but not in an altogether unfriendly way. She just seemed focused on what she was doing, like Tech at his datapad.

“Hello, Dara. So, what are you doing?” Omega repeated brightly.

“Sending a message.”

Omega scrunched her nose a little at the succinct reply. Maybe it was less that this woman was focused like Tech, and more that she was quiet and solitary like Crosshair. The young girl peered over Dara’s shoulder curiously, trying to make out what she was up to for herself.

“But you’re not saying anything,” she pointed out.

Dara looked up again, raising an eyebrow at Omega with amusement. Tenacious thing, isn’t she, she thought.

“Not exactly,” she explained as she continued to work. “Instead of sending text or words, I’m sending sounds over the line. They’ll just seem like interference so no one will be able to tell it’s a message if it’s intercepted.”

Omega was instantly fascinated. “Ohhhh. Well, how does the person you’re sending it to understand it?”

“The combinations of sounds all stand for something. They know the key, so they can decode it.” Dara finished sending her message. She crossed her arms and leaned back on the array, turning her full attention to Omega, who looked calculating.

“What if the wrong person figures out the pattern?” Not just tenacious, the kid was smart, too, thinking through all the possibilities. Dara was impressed, and happy enough now to satisfy Omega’s interest. She was in no rush.

“It won’t matter. The message is in a language that very few other people understand anymore.” Dara, in fact, had known one of the only recognized experts in the galaxy on this ancient language. He was dead now.

“But…what if someone identifies it?” Omega countered. It was like a game for the girl, considering all the contingencies. It reminded Dara of herself. She wished that it didn’t.

Dara smiled, a little sadly. “It still won’t matter. The content is coded too. The message seems like something normal. It might say that I’m excited because I’m going on a trip soon. But the person I’m contacting will know that means something different. Like, I won’t be able to make a rendezvous.”

Omega was suitably impressed. “Wow. That’s pretty cool. And complicated.”

The woman nodded knowingly. “The more layers the harder it is to crack, and the more likely it’ll be overlooked by the Empire.”

“Neat!”

“Indeed. That is quite clever. Unfortunately, your unauthorized access of our communications system did trigger an alert.” Tech was approaching from one end of the platform, pistols drawn. Dara didn’t have to look around to know that Wrecker and Hunter would be similarly cutting off her access to the other bridges. But then, she wasn’t interested in escaping—not before she had the chance to chat with Rex. If she had been, she would be long gone already.

Sure enough, Dara heard the Sergeant’s gravelly voice coming from behind her. “Omega. Get away from her. Now,” Hunter barked.

Omega looked back and forth from Dara to Hunter, the confusion on her face quickly turning to suspicion. The woman gestured with her chin. “Go on, kid. Go to your—dads? Brothers? Honestly, I still haven’t worked out whatever this is.”

The girl backed away quickly towards Wrecker, who had advanced from a third direction. He moved to position his sister behind him, putting his body between her and Dara.

“What’s going on?” Omega demanded.

“She’s been spying on us,” Hunter replied darkly. “That’s why we were gone longer than we expected. We thought it was too risky for her to find out about you. And we were right.”

Dara snickered. “I’m a risk? Do you even have any idea how many innocent people Crosshair has killed?”

Tech frowned. “Dara, where is Crosshair? What did you do?”

“Less than he deserved.” Dara’s eyes were glinting, but they softened when she noticed Omega peer with distress around Wrecker. She sighed and shook her head. With one hand held out in front of her, she unholstered her blaster slowly and let it clatter to the floor a few feet away. “He’s fine. Go ahead, I know when I’m beat.”

Dara held her wrists out in front of her and allowed Hunter to clamp binders around them yet again. Omega was still examining her curiously as they led her away.

***

Crosshair had a splitting headache. He supposed he should be grateful that Dara had only stunned him, rather than cutting his throat, but it was a small consolation. A slightly bigger consolation was the fact that at least she hadn’t escaped. When he awoke to Tech’s concerned expression as his brother held a medical scanner irritatingly close to his face, he had been certain that Dara was long gone, and was surprised to learn that they had intercepted her so easily. He could only speculate as to why.

Now he was watching from a perch atop a pile of crates in the corner as Rex prepared to question her, worrying a toothpick and scowling at anyone that looked at him. Scowling at anyone, that is, except for Omega, who scrambled up the crates to take a seat next to him before Rex got started.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Terrible,” he griped.

She grinned and gave him an affectionate pat on the arm. “Mad that she got the drop on you?” she replied knowingly.

The sniper grumbled. In fact, he was mad—at himself, for underestimating Dara. After all that time suspecting her, he’d almost let himself believe he was wrong. And then, seeing her in the cargo hold, hands bound behind her back and looking up at him with fury etched into every line of her face—he’d let himself get distracted by how badly he still wanted her anyway. Even as she looked back at him with every bit of the disgust that he deserved.

But he couldn’t tell Omega that. Instead, he ignored her teasing and changed the subject. “Heard you got up to some fun without us, kid.”

Omega rolled her eyes. “I already got a lecture.”

“You won’t hear one from me. I know you’re the most capable member of the squad.” Crosshair mussed up her hair, earning an even bigger grin. He had missed her.

Omega furrowed her brow thoughtfully, gazing at Dara, who was leaning back in her chair and had her feet up on the table as Rex approached, her nonchalance and familiarity belying the seriousness of the situation. After so long observing her expressions and characteristics while she was undercover, Crosshair was now struggling to read her; she was still controlled, but somehow harsher, more commanding, her every move more transparently calculated. If they had known Dara the free-spirited nomad, this was now Dara the rebel spy—and though this version was closer to the truth, the Dara he had been seeking to draw out still seemed to lay buried beneath who knows how many layers.

As he watched, she directed a quick wink to Howzer, shrugging, unbothered, when the reg scowled back. Gregor, however, who was seated next to Howzer, sent his own cheeky wink back, making Dara smirk with amusement. Crosshair clenched his fists.

“So, what’s going on with her?” Omega asked. “Echo said she’s not with the Empire, so why was she spying on the squad?”

Crosshair frowned. “We rescued her from Imperials. She was using us to hide out from them and reporting back on us to her rebel faction.”

“Huh.”

Omega looked like she was going to say more, but the sniper was grateful to be saved from further questions by the beginning of Rex’s interrogation, which they both leaned forward eagerly to see. The rest of the Batch were seated elsewhere around the platform, similarly interested in hearing what Rex came up with in the face of Dara’s usual restraint.

The Captain seated himself across the table from Dara and nodded in greeting. “Hello again, Keranji.”

Dara smiled crookedly. “Thought maybe you’d forgotten me, Captain. But I don’t go by that name anymore.”

No wonder Tech hadn’t found anything about her; she’d changed identities since the Clone Wars. Crosshair could see his brother tapping furiously at his datapad, no doubt already using the new information to search for more background.

Rex smiled back. “Dara, then. Your hair used to be darker.”

“I used to be younger.” Dara cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, as if to suggest that she could feel the tension of the years building up bodily. Maybe she could.

“We all did,” Rex acknowledged. “Still, I don’t usually forget a face.”

“I used to laugh more too.”

She seemed weary. It was strange to look at her now, when only a few rotations earlier she would have made every effort to disguise that bone-deep exhaustion. Crosshair tried to imagine her as a hopeful, fresh-faced insurgent learning from Rex and the Jedi how to fight back against the Separatists that had taken over her planet. It was a difficult image to conjure up. Instead, all he could think of was her grief from the night of the bar fight—the devastation that made it look like she might shatter at any moment.

That night, had she been thinking of her friend—the one he’d killed? No—he remembered what day that was on the standard calendar, and that wasn’t the anniversary. She must have been thinking of another dead friend. Another one of many, a number he had only added to.

“We all did,” Rex agreed with her softly. The Captain paused a moment, let them sit with their shared loss, before he continued. “Still palling around with Saw, then?”

Dara shrugged. “Took a bit of a sabbatical after we liberated Onderon, but couldn’t stay away I guess.”

“Not tired of fighting?”

The rebel slowly removed her feet from the table, planted her boots firmly on the floor, and leveled a steady gaze at him. “All of us are tired. Hasn’t stopped us yet, has it?”

Rex chuckled. “I guess not.” Crosshair began to get the sense that this was no longer an interrogation—if it ever had been. It was a negotiation. “I have to say,” the Captain continued, “I wish you would’ve reached out directly instead of spying on us.”

Dara, hands still clasped in binders, drummed her fingers against the table thoughtfully. “I’m sure you understand the need for caution. Trust isn’t a currency I trade in much these days. I thought it was too risky until I knew more. I apologize.”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow. She had wanted to trust them, to forge an alliance, but Saw had ordered her not to. She made no move to clarify further, and he quickly realized that she wouldn’t. Dara had said “I,” not “we.” She was owning the decision, like it had been her decision all along.

Rex tilted his head, considering her words. The Captain had heard the audio recording of Dara’s call with Saw—Tech had passed it along while they were still in hyperspace. Crosshair wondered what Rex would make of the discrepancy.

He would probably think it showed loyalty.

“Before we caught you, you got a message out to Saw. Should we expect him here soon?” Rex inquired slowly.

Dara pursed her lips. “No. You’re stuck with me.”

“Why is that?” he pressed.

“Against protocol to attempt a rescue.”

“Ah.” Rex stood, radiating an easy authority from his perfect military posture. “Well, I would like him to come. I understand you don’t trust us. And I understand why. But it’s clear that we’re working on parallel missions, and we’re willing to extend our own trust. Enough to have him and a few of your people on base, and to see if we can work towards some sort of cooperation.”

Dara regarded him seriously, then glanced around at the other members of the Batch watching the conversation, although she studiously avoided looking at Crosshair’s corner. “I may be able to arrange that.”

“Come on, then.” Rex removed her binders and led her to a holoprojector nearby. Stretching and rubbing her wrists a little, Dara entered the information to call Gerrera.

When Gerrera’s image popped up, his arms were crossed, and his gaze was smoldering. “Rex. It’s good to see you’re alive. I trust you’re treating Dara well.”

The Captain nodded. “Nice to see you, too, Saw. I wish the circumstances were better, but Dara and I have come to something of an agreement.”

“Uh-huh.” Gerrera still looked severe, and he was eyeing Dara closely, as though checking that she was uninjured. “I hope the terms of that agreement don’t involve holding my head of intelligence hostage.”

Now that was some useful information. Crosshair thought he could see Dara grinding her teeth. If he’d learned anything about her at all, he was willing to bet that she had hoped she could keep them thinking she was nothing more than an everyday operative, still holding back information even as they took a step toward trust. Paranoid, indeed.

A lesser man than Rex would have rolled his eyes at Gerrera’s accusation, but the Captain only stiffened a little. “Dara is free to go whenever she likes. What we want is to invite you here, to see if we can find a way to collaborate,” he countered.

Dara spoke up, not giving Saw the chance to reject the idea outright again. “I think it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Both our groups could do with some intelligence sharing and joint strategizing, and—if Rex’s people are willing—I’d like to learn from some of their tactics and receive training for a few of my specialists. Their encryption skills in particular far surpass our own capabilities. By working together and sharing information like that, we can all get stronger.”

This seemed to convince the rebel leader. Where he had been unwilling to consider Dara’s arguments before, he now had to acknowledge that the ruse was over. Their only options left were to cooperate or to walk away. Hesitating only a little—though looking no less intense—Gerrera accepted the proposal.

“Okay. We can talk about it. But it’s going to be at least ten rotations before I can make it.”

Dara nodded. “I’d like to discuss with Rex the possibility of conducting a small, joint operation before then. Something to demonstrate the potential of the alliance.”

“I’m sure we can find something,” Rex agreed.

“Good. Dara, keep me up to speed. Rex, I’m looking forward to seeing you in person again. It’s been a long time.” Gerrera’s holoprojection blinked out.

Rex visibly relaxed, clapping Dara on the shoulder. “Well done. I think he’s well on his way to being convinced. Much more amenable to it than during your earlier call.”

Dara shook her head, equal parts annoyed and amused. “ I should’ve known better than to talk to him directly. It only takes one time being sloppy to get caught.”

“That was him being amenable?” Echo murmured.

Dara turned and grinned at him, a real, toothy, un-curated smile that broke through her barriers. This was what she actually looked like, Crosshair realized, when she was happy. When her guard was down for a moment.

She shrugged. “You should see what he’s like usually.”

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

Author's note: SMUT IS FINALLY COMING NEXT CHAPTER! Which should be posted next week!

Next chapter

#the bad batch #star wars #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction

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ladyloveandjustice · 23 days ago

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Running the Gauntlet: A Complete Natsume Yuujinchou Oneshot Fic

My full fanfic based on the idea I had in this post about Natsume's running abilities making his life at school difficult that blew up.

Includes a couple silly footnotes! ao3 link here if you want to leave kudos

Thank you to @schrodingersauthorii for saying something in the comments to my post that inspired parts of this!

Running the Gauntlet

“I wish Natsume wasn’t our anchor,” a classmate with a sour face and square glasses complained.

Natsume flinched. It’s not like I wanted to be, he thought glumly. He pretended he hadn’t heard, hunching over and tying this shoe. So many students and teachers milling around on the grass, waiting for the big event, whoever it was probably hadn’t noticed he was nearby.

But then, Nishimura’s response made him feel even worse.

“Man, shut up. You haven’t really seen Natsume run. He’s friggin’ fast. We’re lucky to have him.”

Natsume appreciated Nishimura standing up for him, but inwardly he was screaming at him to please stop talking about this.

Then Kitamoto chimed in, “Yeah, one of the first times we saw him outside of school, he basically dashed out of the woods at warp speed. So don’t be rude.”

He saw Kitamoto glance quickly at him, clearly aware might be in earshot.

“Fast? Come on you two, I know he’s your friend, but the guy is sickly. You’re expecting me to believe someone who collapses every other day is a good runner? I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, I’m just not counting on him to win this”. The classmate, who rarely spoke to Natsume, adjusted his glasses.

“You’ll see,” Nishimura said smugly.

Natsume groaned inwardly, straightening up.

He eyed the various students hanging out in different colored headbands, the boy handing out water bottles from the tent, and some teachers talking off to the side. There was even a chattering crowd on the small set of bleachers. A crowd that included parents.

But worst of all was the looping black track, sizzling in the sun before him. He, Nishimura, and the rest who’d been chosen for the relay race would be lining up on it soon.

He hated Sports Day.

To be fair, this was his least hated sports day so far. He’d never actually experienced sports day while having friends before. When he was a kid, he could expect being pushed to the ground and mocked, or having classmates complaining loudly to teachers about being paired up with the liar. Best case scenario was he’d merely have to feel lonely as he was left out of class celebrations, watching parents and friends cheer others on when there was no one to cheer for him.

But this year he’d been able to cheer wildly for Taki during the bean bag toss, laugh at Tanuma as he was forced to dance awkwardly with the rest of his class during their group performance, and smile as Tanuma got some sweet revenge by beating him at the scavenger hunt. He’d gotten to high five Kitamoto and Nishimura after every victory, and even Sasada once.

So many parents being here was still a little intimidating, though. He kept expecting one of them to yell at him to get away from their kid, even though he knew it wasn’t like that anymore. The Fujiwaras hadn’t been able to come, as they had a relative’s wedding to attend today. Natsume hadn’t even told them today was sports day, because he didn’t want them to feel bad about it. He was also kind of relieved they couldn’t come, because he would have been even more nervous if they were watching.

Overall, it had been a good day. He was basically enjoying himself.

But there was no getting over the dread of his biggest obstacle yet—the relay race. He was really going to have to pay attention to his running. It was such a tough balance…he didn’t want to let down the class, but he also needed to think of…

“Natsume, are you okay?” He blinked, noticing Sasada was suddenly next to him. “You were spacing out a bit.”

“I’m fine! Actually, are you okay?” She looked pale, and she kept fiddling with her glasses. It was strange to see her without the usual air of confidence.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. She’d been chosen for the relay race too, and was looking at the track with almost as much trepidation as he was.

“Sasada! Natsume!” Nishimura ran forward before Natsume could reassure her. “It’s all up to us!”

“Yay,” Sasada said blandly.

“What’s wrong, Sasada?” Nishimura grinned smugly at her “Worried you’re gonna be the sports day cliché?”

“The…what?”

“You’ve seen it on TV, right? In anime and stuff? There’s always the one person who trips during the relay race. They scramble to their feet, tears in their eyes, and pass off their baton…” Nishimura imitated the gesture dramatically. “But don’t worry! You can trip all you want, I’m so fast it won’t matter! No need to be nervous!”

Sasada shook her head, putting her glasses back on. “You know what, your stupidity has calmed my nerves a bit, thank you,”

“Glad to be of service.”

---

Considering all that, Natsume wasn’t exactly surprised when Nishimura was the one who tripped.

Natsume winced when his friend went down, hoping he wasn’t hurt. It would be okay, right? Nishimura was so good-humored. This wasn’t a big deal or anything. He’d just laugh it off and…

Nishimura stumbled up, his knee bleeding, his face burning with shame. Natsume could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Of course he was devastated. Nishimura may act carefree, but he hated letting people down.

Natsume sighed.

Fine then.

“Nishimura!” He called out, offering his hand. “Don’t give up! I’ve got this!”

Nishimura’s face lit up instantly. He jogged as fast as he could and slammed the baton in Natsume’s hand. Natsume faced forward. The others had a massive head start, but that wasn’t enough to make him give up.

A yokai is chasing me, he told himself. A big one with sharp teeth.

And next thing he knew, he was crossing the finish line.

Cheers exploded around him as the other runners caught up, lagging after him. And then, suddenly, what seemed to be the entire class was rushing towards him. He had to resist the urge to put his hands up defensively.

Nishimura slammed into him from the side, embracing him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was whooping and laughing. Heat spread up Natsume’s neck and face. It was the first time Nishimura had ever full-on hugged him. Or cried so openly in front of him. He knew it was considered fine for guys to cry and hug only when it involved sports for some reason, but it was still a surprise. He wasn’t used to that kind of intimacy. Not that it was bad. It was kind of nice.

The rest of his class gathered around him, yelling things like “way to go” and “that was amazing!” Even Sasada, her face still red and sweaty from her run, was screaming her head off and jumping up and down. Kitamoto clapped Natsume on the back and soon several classmates followed suit. Natsume was sure a red handprint was permanently etched on his back now.

“Dude, I knew you were fast, but I didn’t know you were that fast!!” Nishimura yelled through his tears.

“Seriously, do you have a secret running regimen I don’t know about, or is it just natural talent?” Kitamoto said.

Natsume heard some more cheering explode behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see an uncharacteristically excited Tanuma waving at him from the other side of the track, “Congrats, Natsume!”

“Tanuma, you could at least… pretend to care… that our class lost,” said the boy Natsume had gone up against, still doubled over and panting.

“Sorry.”

There was loud whistle from the stands and Natsume saw it came from Taki. The girl next to her had covered her ears. Taki didn’t notice, and let out another impressively strong blast, waving at him. She removed her knuckles from her mouth and shouted “Woo, Natsume!”

Natsume was torn between being happy his friends supported him and so embarrassed he could die.

“I owe you an apology, Natsume,” said the boy with the glasses, whoever he was.

“Hell yeah you do!” Nishimura responded.

“Nishimura…” Kitamoto’s said scoldingly, his eyes flicking to Sasada.

“Ah…I’m sorry too, Sasada,” Nishimura said sincerely. “You really showed me.” (Sasada had been fast enough to give Nishimura a head start, as Natsume suspected she would be, she’d certainly caught up to him out of nowhere plenty of times in the early days of their relationship).

Sasada wasn’t listening, she was looking at a fit girl with short black hair from another class, who was also still panting from the race. “How about that, Chiyo!” she called over to her.

“You win this one, but I’ll get you next time, Jun! Just you wait!” Chiyo called with a matching huge grin and an excited look in her eyes. For some reason Sasada blushed delicately in response*.

“Okay, okay, give him some room to breathe,” Kitamoto said, shooing at the others. They all stepped back, though Nishimura remained by Natsume’s side. Natsume was grateful for Kitamoto, he was dizzy and overwhelmed. He’d had no idea races like this were such a big deal to people. He was more grateful than ever the Fujiwaras weren’t here to add on to all this.

“Look Natsume!” Sasada had finally torn her eyes away from the other girl and was pointing at the stands. “Even the track coach looks impressed!”

“No wonder, you’re faster than half her team,” Kitamoto said. “Bet she tries to recruit you!”

Natsume’s stomach dropped like a stone. Indeed, the track coach, a woman with short dark brown hair and sharp eyes, was looking at him with interest. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. His personal hell had returned. Had winning a measly race been worth it?

Natsume looked over at Nishimura, who was still jumping up and down and hollering about how he was going to treat Kitamoto, Sasada and Natsume to some manju, not even minding when Kitamoto snarked at him about it how it must be a cold day in hell if the man who sponged off everyone was paying the tab for once. He flashed Natsume another ecstatic grin, and Natsume smiled back.

Yeah, it had been worth it.

Natsume had experienced a lot of reoccurring horrors, but the most annoying of them was being hounded by track coaches at every school he went to.

Apparently, spending most of his life running from yokai had made him faster than the average person. He’d been unaware of this until his first year of middle school. When it came time to run the track, Natsume had heard whispers around him, a couple of the kids placing bets on when he’d collapse. One boy had even smacked him on the shoulder and screamed “The liar’s gonna come in dead last!” in his ear.

Natsume hadn’t really done much racing against other kids on the playground, and he’d been sick during a lot of gym classes, so he’d also figured he’d struggle against the other kids. It had completely shocked everyone, himself included, when he blew past them all with ease. He’d reached the finish line only to find the other kids several feet behind him, panting and gawking.

The gym teacher’s eyes had gone wide, and he’d immediately started urging Natsume to join the track club. The man had even gone to Natsume’s current guardians about it.

His guardians had resented that he was getting attention while their real kid was an overlooked benchwarmer on the baseball team. They’d thrown lots of snide comments Natsume’s way. And…well, he hadn’t had a good time on the track team at all. When he’d inevitably had to move again after those same guardians got tired of him, leaving the track club behind had been the silver lining.

Upon transferring to a new school, he’d decided to keep his speed under wraps. But then a coach noticed him running when he was late for class one day and his troubles started all over again. At first he’d avoided the coach by coming up with excuses about responsibilities or detention or headaches, but eventually he was just reduced to hiding under the bleachers when he saw the man.

At another school, a coach tried to recruit him for her team SO aggressively he’d made the stupid mistake of running away when he saw her—and naturally, seeing how fast he could book it had just increased her interest.

So, when he was gathering up all the extra water bottles from the hydration station tent at end of the day, and saw the track coach approach him, his heart started pounding, He fought back his urge to bolt, even a flashbacks filled his brain.

“Natsume, right? I’m Sakuragi, if you don’t remember." The woman had a wide, genuine smile. He’d only spoken to her a few times, but he was pretty sure she was Taki’s homeroom teacher. “You showed some impressive hustle today! Have you ever thought of joining the track team?”

Fortunately, Natsume had his excuses pre-prepared. “Oh wow, that’s such an honor, Sensei!” He said, continuing to gather up the water bottles while still maintaining polite eye contact. “But, you see, I get sick very easily, so joining a team is a bad idea. I’d just end up being absent a lot, and I’d let the team down.”

“That’s not a problem.” To his horror, the teacher bent down and started picking up the water bottles herself.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself—” He began quickly, but she cut him off, saying “ I’d never require you to come in when you’re not feeling well. You wouldn’t need to worry about calling out sick. We’re a fairly large team, so other students can easily sub in for you if you can’t make a race.”

What kind of laid back track team was this? Never mind, Natsume had a backup excuse. “Well, that’s great, but I’m also concerned about making trouble for my foster parents. It’s a lot to ask them, and I don’t want to put them out. I’d be around to help them less. They’d have to pay for expenses, like when overnight trips at the inn when we go to other towns, or shoes—”

“The school supplies the shoes and other essentials, and we can cover trip expenses if need be. Also, I chat with Ms. Fujiwara at the grocery store often, and she loves bragging about you. I can’t see her turning down a chance for you to develop your skills and enjoy some team spirit!”

Natsume looked down at his shoes, sure that he was tomato red right now. Touko bragged about him? What did he even do worth bragging about? “He only missed ten days of class this month”? “His grades were perfectly mediocre again”? “He hasn’t come home covered in dirt in a while”? “He made five whole friends at school, somehow?”*

Still, through his embarrassment, he felt a little warm inside. She was proud of him. It was a still a new feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this strange, shy happiness.

“Natsume?” The coach’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Is there anything else bothering you, or would you like to come do a practice session with us? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to join. I’ll respect your decision.”

“I…” Natsume was searching for another excuse.

Nishimura jogged up. “Natsume, do you need any—" He noticed who Natsume was talking to and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Sensei! Natsume, are you being recruited? That’s so cool!”

“Ah, you were his teammate today, right?” Sakuragi smiled at Nishimura kindly.

Nishimura flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Natsume really saved me out there. He’s a dependable guy! And he’s a great runner!”

Nishimura flashed a grin at Natsume, who was wishing he had telepathy so he could tell him to stop. He tried to send a signal by shaking his head slightly, but Nishimura wasn’t looking now.

“Well, that definitely sounds like track team material,” Sakuragi said jovially. She turned to Natsume. “Looks like your friends vouch for you. But it’s up to you, Natsume. Would you mind just stopping by?”

Natsume couldn’t bring himself to directly say no to a teacher in the first place, and now Nishimura and his enthusiasm had been added to the mix. “I’ll give it a try,” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

“Great! Just come to the track after school tomorrow. I think you’ll find it’s a lot more fun than you’re thinking.”

Natsume kept the smile fixed on as they carried the water bottles back into school. When the coach departed and they came ouside again, he and Nishimura met Taki and Tanuma. As always, Nishimura immediately started blushing and fidgeting , but as always, Taki failed to notice.

“I saw you with Sakuragi-sensei!” she said with a smile. “Impressing her is a big feat, Natsume! And don’t worry, she’s really nice.” She put her hand on Natsume’s shoulder, and Nishimura let out a strangled squeak. “She won’t get mad at you, whatever you decide.”

“Are you okay?” Tanuma said softly. Clearly both he and Taki had noticed he wasn’t actually happy right now.

“I’m fine,” Natsume said, letting the fake smile drop away and replacing it with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll just check it out. No big deal.”

---

“I don’t get why you’re whining so much about it,” Nyanko-sensei said, trotting beside Natsume as he walked to school the next day. “It’s just one measly meeting. What’s so bad about this running team thing anyway?”

“The people who took care of me when I joined the track team the first time were really bothered by it. They didn’t like having to drive me places, or the attention I got—”

“The Fujiwara’s aren’t like that, so that’s a stupid excuse.”

“That’s true, but it’s more than that,” Natsume sighed. “Last time, I was constantly late or absent. A yokai would attack me or I’d get sick...”

“Wimp.”

“Shut up, Sensei. Anyway, whenever that happened, the coach yelled at me for flaking out. I let everyone down.”

“But this woman said it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and can’t come, right?”

“She says that now, but she might change her mind,” Natsume mumbled.

“You’re so gloomy,” Nyanko-sensei shook his head. “It’s annoying.”

“Look, even if what she says is true, my teammates probably won’t like me. They didn’t last time. And I just…I just hated the feeling of all those people looking at me.”

He’d struggled a bit with just the sports day crowd watching him, but being on a real team was a million times worse. All those people judging, all their hopes riding on him not messing up… He shivered, remembering the way his skin had crawled, the way his breathing turned funny, the way his hands had shook. All those eyes on him…the weight of their gaze had made him want to curl up so small they couldn’t see him anymore.

“And there’s the actual reason. You’re bad with other people and you get stage fright. Boring.” Sensei yawned. “Just get over it. You have yokai trying to eat you all the time, why’s this scary?’

“I’d rather deal with yokai than the track team,” Natsume said emphatically.

Nyanko-sensei scoffed.

“A couple years ago there was this coach who was always chasing after me to recruit me. I was running from her, trying to get off school grounds so she couldn’t follow me, but then I saw that there was this huge yokai on the path out of school. Big fangs, sharp teeth, claws, all that. I’d have to double back to avoid it, and the coach would catch me. So… I took the better option, and I ran past the yokai.”

“Idiot. Did it attack you?”

“I took a swing at me and knocked me out. But because of that the teacher was reprimanded for making the sickly kid collapse and they threatened to fire her if she ever chased a student again. She stopped trying to ask me after that. So it all worked out.”

“I don’t understand humans,” Sensei sighed. “Anyway, I’m in favor of the track team. If it helps you run faster, that means less of you getting snatched by yokai and less work for me.”

“Stop being lazy and trying to skip out on your bodyguard duties, Sensei. Yokai shouldn’t be chasing me down in the first place, it’s your job to take care of them.”

“I’ve got my own life to live! Stop being so selfish!”

“I’m the selfish one?”

They bickered all the way to the school gate, and though Natsume would never admit it to Nyanko-sensei, it did make him feel a lot better.

---

The atmosphere of the meet was a lot nicer than he expected. The other students were kind to him, many complementing them on his sports day performance. The team members and Coach Sakuragi were less, well, mean to each other than the team he’d briefly been part of, cheering each on rather than acting sullen when anyone outperformed them. The coach at his old school had always responded to any mistake with a torrent of frustrated criticism that made Natsume tremble in shame. But Sakuragi never acted disappointed or angry. She came off like she was giving friendly suggestions, and she pointed out what they were doing well at lot too. The team responded to her advice eagerly, rather than fearing her.

It was nice, and Natsume almost wished he was the kind of person who could be a part of this. But he knew himself too well. He’d feel terrible each time he missed out due to being sick or waylaid by yokai. And that would happen a lot. The nicer these people were, the worse he’d feel about letting them down. It didn’t matter if they were fine with it, he wouldn’t be. And to be honest, even if he liked his teammates, he didn’t like thinking about huge crowds watching him, he didn’t like the idea of watching other people cry in frustration when he beat them, any of it.

So when Sakuragi asked him if he wanted to do a practice run with the others, he agreed, all while planning to run much slower than usual. He’d explain to her after that the performance on sports day was a fluke, and he usually wasn’t that fast, and there was no way he’d be able to pull it off consistently. Sakuragi would hopefully stop wanting him to join the team, and even if she still asked him, she and the others wouldn’t feel bad when he turned her down.

He took a deep breath, as he stood at the starting line, closing his eyes and blocking the gaze of Sakuragi and the other students out. If he didn’t imagine a yokai was chasing him, running slower was pretty manageable, and he was experienced enough with doing it in Phys Ed that he knew he could pull it off without looking like he was holding back. It would be fine. He’d be fine.

He got himself into position, taking off when Coach blasted the whistle. He lagged way behind the others, while doing his best to look like he was really giving his all. It was going pretty well, he thought, until he looped around on the track and saw a yokai directly in his path.

It wasn’t a big one, not even coming up to Natsume’s knee. It was black, so it had blended in well with the track. It was sort of blobby and shapeless in form, like an inkstain, with beady eyes and a wiggly head.

Natsume’s heart raced and his mouth went dry. It might look small, but he knew better than anyone not to trust a yokai’s appearance. It could be dangerous. Was it here to get the Book of Friends, or was it trying to do something to the people here? It didn’t matter. He had to do something. He couldn’t just slow down, that would give it time to attack.

Instead, he vaulted over the creature. His ankle twisted under him when he landed. He fell, knees and hands scraping the ground. He immediately sprang to his feet and ran as fast he could. He had to lead it away from everyone else.

His sneakers pounded on the rubber and intense vibrations raced through him with each step. It felt like his bones were shuddering. Somone was calling his name, but it was muffled and distant, everything was. He has no room in his brain for anything but his goal. I have to protect the people here. I have to protect the Book of Friends. He crossed the finish line and veered into the grass, ready to grab his bag and sprint out of school grounds. But he looked over his shoulder, he saw the blobby yokai hadn’t moved after him at all. It had simply flattened and spread out on the ground. It’s eyes were closed.

Was it…taking a nap?

Relief filled Natsume as he skidded to a stop. Yes, it was sleeping. Its breathing was even, and as sounds came back to him, he could hear some faint snoring. But he also heard something else, which was Coach Sakuragi screaming at him.

“NATSUME! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU RUN ON A SPRAINED ANKLE?” She shouted while running toward him.

Sprained…? Natsume looked down and saw his ankle was swelling. Suddenly, intense pain shot through his leg, his ankle folded under him, and he crumpled. Sakuragi caught him under his arms before he could hit the ground. She lifted him up easily.

Wow, she’s strong, Natsume thought dazedly. Bet I look pretty pathetic right now. He could see students had gathered around to stare at him, expressions worried or shocked. One girl called “Are you okay??”

“Y-yeah,” he said as his mind screamed in humiliation.

Sakuragi could have probably carried him, but thankfully she chose to simply pull his arm over shoulder. “Don’t stand on that ankle, keep it raised.” She commanded. She turned to the cluster of team members. “We need the chairs, the ice bag from the cooler, and the first aid kit. Go get them.”

The student’s responded quickly, three of them running off.

Soon they all came back with all the supplies, including two folding chairs. Sakuragi eased him into a chair. Natsume couldn’t help groaning in pain when a student propped up his leg on the chair in front of him, resting his ankle on a folded towel. Sakuragi quickly cleaned out the minor scrapes on his hands and knees with some medicine.

Natsume hated that he was disrupting the entire track meet and making so many people fuss over him, but he knew protesting would be ungrateful, so he softly thanked the other students instead. They smiled back at him.

Sakuragi placed the ice bag on his ankle. Natsume sighed in relief as the numbing cold broke through the pain.

Sakuragi bent down to examine his foot. “It don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to need to check it with a hospital. It’s badly sprained because of all the weight you put on it. Hopefully you didn’t tear the ligament completely.”

“A-a hospital?” Natsume’s stomach dropped. That was really going to worry Touko and Shigeru. He felt so stupid, putting them through all this because a harmless yokai was taking a nap.

Sakuragi straightened up and clapped her hands. “Okay, this isn’t a show, people. Give us some space and get back to practice.”

The team dispersed, and Sakuragi crossed her arms, frowning down at him. Natsume winced, thinking she was going to yell again. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Natsume.” she said calmly. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. This was just a practice run. Your first one, too. I’ve seen students try to run on injuries before, but this wasn’t even an actual race!”

Natsume’s looked at his ankle, which was rapidly turning purple, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you run on that ankle?”

“I-I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just kind of…instinct?” Natsume said. He instantly realized that how weird that sounded, and so, apparently, did Sakuragi.

“Instinct?” Her frown deepened and her eyebrows drew together. “Your instinct is to keep running even when you’re hurt?”

“No, no, it’s not like that, I’m just used to—!” He snapped his mouth shut.

What was wrong with him? He was usually better at covering things up. He’d almost said he was used to having to run while injured. He’d twisted his ankle running from yokai plenty of times, and at some point he’d learned to just block out the pain until he got to safety. But obviously he couldn’t tell the coach that. He desperately searched for another way to end the sentence, but before he could, the coach bent over, looking him directly in the eye.

“Natsume, you looked very frightened when that “instinct” kicked in. Like you were being chased down. Are you used to being chased? Is it something that happens a lot?”

Natsume’s blood froze. Did she know? Why? How? What was going on? His ankle was throbbing so badly now, it was hard to think the haze of pain. His breathing got faster, his ears buzzed… He had to say something, anything to throw her off…

Sakuragi put her hand gently on his shoulder, “Natsume, you can tell me anything. Is it someone who goes to this school? Or even more than one person? Have they been hurting you? I know it’s scary to talk about it, but I promise I can help--”

Natsume’s shoulders slumped as relief flooded him. She’d was asking if people were chasing him. Obviously she’d meant people. What was wrong with him? Sure, his ankle felt like it was being hit repeatedly with a giant hammer, but that was no excuse to lose his head.

Doing his best to come off as relaxed, he said “Oh, It’s not like that, Sensei, you don’t need to worry. People don’t chase me at all anymore.”

Sakuragi narrowed her eyes. “Anymore?”

He clearly should just stop talking forever. Maybe he’d sprained his brain along with his ankle.

Yes, he’d been chased by people, of course he had. And not just enthusiastic track coaches. He’d had to run away from plenty of classmates looking to teach the liar a lesson. Running from bullies was usually a lot easier than running from most yokai though, since people eventually tired out. He’d only been caught a few times.

At least this slip up didn’t put his secret in danger, it just made every inch of him cringe. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with her. But he had to make her understand everything was okay. Even if it meant embarrassing himself.

“Sensei, ever since I moved here, things have been so much better. People are so kind to me, my friends are amazing, the Fujiwaras are so warm and giving…” He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “I feel like I belong here. Actually belong. I’m happier than I ever thought I could be….”

Sakuragi was listening to him intently, and when he trailed off, she smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that. Sorry for the interrogation.”

She took some bandages out of the first aid kit and started wrapping his ankle with a steady practiced hand. “It sounds running is really connected to some… difficult experiences for you. I’m a teacher who’s supposed to look out for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to run. I should have listened and understood your feelings. I apologize.”

“No no, it’s not your fault Sensei, you’re honestly the nicest track coach I’ve ever—"

But his reassurance was cut off by a shout, “Natsume! What happened?!”

Natsume looked over his shoulder, and saw Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Sasada all coming around the corner of school building

What the heck are they doing here? His stomach dropped at the expressions of worry on their faces. Nishimura led the pack as they rushed toward him.

“How did you get hurt already?!” Nishimura exploded the second he was within talking range. “It’s been fifteen minutes since school let out! Fifteen! I bet you were doing some kind of crazy thing again, don’t you realize-?”

“Nishimura, calm down,” Kitamoto said, smacking his arm. “But seriously, Natsume, what happened?”

“I—"

“Did somebody trip you?” Sasada asked, fixing the scattered team members with a hawklike glare while they looked baffled in response. “Are there bullies here?”

“No—”

“It’s not broken, is it?” Nishimura was wincing as he looked at the ankle. “It looks so swollen—”

“Guys!” Taki cut him off. “Why don’t we stop freaking out and let Natsume get a word in edgewise?”

“Well said. I know you’re worried, give him the chance to explain,” Sakuragi said in a slightly amused tone.

Nishimura, Sasada, and Kitamoro jolted, like they hadn’t noticed the teacher before.

“Sorry, Sensei,” Sasada said immediately, bowing her head,

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, Natsume,” Nishimura mumbled.

Tanuma, who’d been quietly watching, stepped up and put his hand on Natsume’s shoulder. It was a timid, gentle touch, but Natsume could feel the weight of Tanuma’s concern through it. He smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked at the others.

“I just tripped, guys, that’s really all. I was doing a practice run and I stumbled and twisted my ankle. Though I, uh, also…” He was going to freak them out if he told them he’d kept running on it, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain it, but—

“He also bumped it a bit while I was guiding him to his chair,” Sakuragi cut him off, giving him a small smile. “That one was my fault.”

Natsume blinked at her, shocked she’d covered for him. She shook her head at him slightly as if to say ‘Just this once’.

“See, Nishimura?” Kitamoto elbowed him. “You of all people can’t be mad at him for tripping!”

“Yeah…” Nishimura said sheepishly.

“No, I’m really sorry for worrying you all,” Natsume said, guilt racing through him. “But, uh, what are you guys even doing here?

“We wanted to support you. The plan was just to meet you when you were done and walk home together,” Taki said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before,” Tanuma squeezed Natsume’s shoulder slightly, looking bashful. “You just seemed kind of stressed about it, and I was a little… It was a last minute decision. I was thinking if you wanted to, we could even hang out at my place. I probably overstepped.”

‘It was one of those times his friends' kindness and care filled him up so much he thought he would burst. Those times where he wondered how he’d found people like them after all these years. When he ached to give them even a fragment of what they’re given him.

“No…” Natsume said, hoping he didn’t sound choked up, “No, I would have liked that, thanks.”

“That’s really sweet,” Sakuragi said with a grin, resuming with wrapping Natsume’s ankle. But then her grin dropped, and she looked at Nishimura questioningly. “Does he get hurt a lot?”

“Kind of. It’s all because he’s reckless, Sensei. He doesn’t think things through!”

“A lot of time he’s trying to help someone, though,” Tanuma said hastily. “It’s not his fault, really.”

“You always go way too easy on him, Tanuma. But yeah, he’ll do things like shove a girl out of the way when a bunch of heavy boxes are falling on her and get conked in the head. He’s too good a guy—"

“Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Taki admonished, which immediately silenced Nishimura.

Sakuragi seemed to relax at this, and she finished up wrapping Natsume’s ankle. “Okay! Now, can one of you go fetch crutches from the nurse’s office?” Sakuragi took a key out of the first aid box and tossed at Nishimura, who caught it with a startled expression. Kitamoto went with him. Sasada looked around awkwardly, and then did a double take.

“Chiyo, what are you doing here?” Sasada’s hand immediately jumped to her hair, and she started twirling a lock around her finger.

The short-haired girl walked up, wiping her neck with a towel and flashing Sasada a crooked grin. “The track team lets me practice with them sometimes. Gotta train to beat you next time. What this I hear about you threatening everyone and calling them bullies?”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, now I remember, Natsume, that’s your friend, no wonder you were all aggro!” Chiyo waved at Natsume, who waved awkwardly back. “Sorry she’s so overprotective, man. She means well.”

“You—come on!” Sasada grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragged her away. Chiyo looked unreasonably happy about this.

Sakuragi had stepped away to chat with some other students too. Taki squatted next to Natsume and Tanuma leaned closer to him.

“Was there yokai trouble?” Tanuma whispered.

Natsume shook his head. “Not really. I basically overreacted. I saw a little yokai on the track, freaked out because I thought it was dangerous, and tripped. It’s harmless, though. It was just napping. I feel pretty stupid.”

“Did anyone notice anything?”

“Yeah, they noticed I was acting really weird. Especially Coach Sakuragi. She’s…intense.”

“Oh, I should have warned you about that,” Taki sighed. “It’s really hard to keep a secret from her, especially if she thinks you’re struggling. Her heart’s in the right place, though.”

Natsume nodded. “I can tell. I feel bad that I worried her. I ended up saying some bizarre things while I was trying to throw her off. I think she thinks I’m traumatized from my childhood or something now.”

Tanuma cleared his throat and looked away. Taki studied her shoes carefully.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Natsume asked, trying to figure out if he’s said anything strange.

“Nothing,” Taki said quickly. “Hey, what does the little yokai look like?” She looked off in the wrong direction.

“Oh, uh…kind of blob-like…” he squinted at the sleeping yokai, examining it more closely. “Oh wow, I couldn’t pick it out before but it has ears actually, Oh, they’re kind of shaped like cat ears…”

Takis gasped excitedly “Is it cute?”

“Uh…maybe ugly cute?”

“Then it’s cute,” Taki said firmly. “I wish I could see it.”

Natsume suddenly realized that it was probably for the best Taki couldn’t see yokai, otherwise she’d be terrorizing every weird looking little monster non-stop.

Tanuma looked around at the team members looping the track, as others chatted and laughed on the sidelines. “Were you having a good time with everyone? You know, before everything happened?”

“Yeah…it was nice. Everyone was really great. I feel bad I ruined things.”

“You didn’t—"

“We’re back!” Kitamoto and Nishimura arrived carrying the crutches.

A shock of pain went up Natsume’s leg like lightning when Tanuma and Sakuragi eased him onto his crutches, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. He couldn’t worry everyone even more.

“Okay, you’re good to go now," Sakuragi said to him. "But make sure your parents to get you checked at the hospital right away. I will be asking Ms. Fujiwara about that our weekly grocery store chats.”

Natsume nodded meekly, filled with dread at the thought of Touko’s panic and distress. At the same time, he noticed she’d called the Fujiwaras his parents…not foster parents or guardians…just parents. It kind of felt nice. Really nice.

Sasada was still talking with Chiyo, laughing and swatting at her playfully. She noticed that Natsume was up, and reluctantly pulled away, giving Chiyo’s hand a quick squeeze before she left.

Sakuragi smiled as Sasada rejoined the group, observing all of Natsume’s friends clustered around him. “Take care of him, all right?”

“Don’t worry, Sensei, we won’t let anything happen to him,” Nishimura said confidently.

“We’ve got his back!” Kitamoto assured her.

“He helps us a lot. It’s the least we can do.” Tanuma chimed in unexpectedly.

“Of course!” Sasada and Taki finished things off.

Natsume stared at the ground, hoping nobody could see the expression on his face. Taki patted him on the back.

“You’re right, you do have good friends.” Sakuragi ruffled Natsume’s hair. “Do you need me to get you a ride home? Or can your parents come get you?”

“Oh, it’s fine, I can just walk.”

“You’re seriously going to try to hobble all the way to the Fujiwaras?” Taki asked severely.

“Okay, maybe to the bus stop…”

“That’s not coming for another hour.” Sasada tapped her watch. “You can’t wait that long.”

“The Fujiwaras don’t have a car, right?” Nishimura said. “My parents have a car, and Mom should be home. I’ll call her to pick us up.” He pulled out his cellphone, glaring at it. “If I can ever get service in this stupid town…can’t believe I begged for a phone and it’s useless…”

“Nishimura, no, I don’t want to drag your Mom into this…” Natsume said in a panic. “I really can just—”

“Natsume.” Tanuma said quietly but firmly, holding out his arm in front of him before he could hobble away. Natsume’s voice died in his throat.

“My Mom would be mad at me if I didn’t call her about this” Nishimura held his phone high in the air, face screwed up in concentration.

“Oh yeah, that’s right, you get your nosiness from her,” Kitamoto said lightly.

“Man, shut up. Aha! I got some bars!” And just like that, Nishimura was on the phone with his Mom, and Natsume could do nothing to protest it.

Sakuragi laughed and started to turn away. “Great, I’ll see you—"

“Sensei, wait,” Natsume called quickly.

She stopped, looking at him questioningly.

“I just wanted I wanted to say, I did have fun here. And, well, I don’t think I can join the team but…would it be all right if I came here once in a while? Just to practice, or I could help with whatever… unless that’s…"

Sakuragi’s face split into a huge grin. “Of course, Natsume! Just having someone like you to race against is a huge help! But are you sure you--?”

Natsume nodded. “I want to.”

“Well then, do your best to heal up and we’ll look forward to seeing you.”

Nishimura got off the phone. “Mom said to wait out front. We'll head to the bench just outside the entrance.”

Waving goodbye to Sakuragi, Natsume’s friends flanked him as he slowly made his way around the school building.

“I’m happy for you, Natsume,” Taki said.

“Yeah, that’s cool that you'll have a place to practice!” Kitamoto agreed.

Thanks,” Natsume said. “I’m sorry I ruined the plans to get snacks and hang out…but maybe we could do it another time? Touko would probably be okay with you all coming over.”

“Of course!”

They all busied themselves planning the get-together until they reached the bench out front, though Nishimura was oddly quiet.

After Natsume sat down, his friends gave their well wishes and reminded him to check in with them after the hospital, before dispersing to walk home. Taki caught up with Sasada and as they walked away, Natsume heard her say “So you and that Chiyo girl, huh? Do I detect some romance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sasada said primly.

“Come on, it’s me. Come over to my place and tell me all about it.

“Fiiiine, if I must.”

Natsume laughed slightly. He looked over at Nishimura to see his reaction, but for once in his life, he didn’t seem interested in what Taki was doing. He was staring stonily into the distance.

“Nishimura, is something wrong--?”

“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he said abruptly, still not really looking at him.

“Huh? What are you sorry about?” He wondered if Nishimura was still feeling guilty about yelling earlier, and was prepared to reassure him, but—

“You’re hurt because of me.”

“What? What are you even talking about?” Natsume couldn’t help but laugh but stopped when Nishimura glared at him.

“It’s because of me. You don’t like running in front of people, I know that, but then you had to because I screwed up. And when you were talking to the coach, I could tell you were nervous, I could tell you didn’t want to go. And instead of returning the favor and helping you, I pushed you to do it anyway.” He put his head in his hands. “It was such shitty thing to do.”

“Nishimura, come on, you didn’t--

“I did. You were trying to say no, you can’t pretend you weren’t.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I just…got carried away because you were so cool when you won the race! And you’re kind of down on yourself sometimes,…so I thought maybe if you joined the track team, you’d see how amazing what you can do is and people would see you’re…ugh, it was stupid.”

Natsume’s cheeks burned. “That’s.. it sounds like you were really thinking of me, Nishimura, thank you—"

“No, don’t thank me!” Nishimura said fiercely. “I wasn’t looking out for you or your feelings at all, I just decided what I wanted for you without asking you. And God, I didn’t even think about injuries!”

Natsume stared at him in bafflement. “Why would you need to think about injuries? It’s not like I need special protection. I knew what I was getting into. People get hurt in sports all the time. It’s normal.”

“No, it’s different with you.” Nishimura slammed his hands down on knees, red blotches spreading on his face. “Because when you get hurt, you downplay it or try to hide it, and if you do that in track, it can mess you up for life!” Nishimura was talking faster and faster, the words just pouring out of his mouth. “It’s dangerous because you act like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter, and that you don’t get why we all care so much, and I know it’s because you’ve been through a lot and I don’t want to pry, but it makes me so---"

He stopped short, blanching. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say all that. U-uh, sorry, just forget it, It’s none of my business…”

A lump formed in Natsume’s throat as shame welled up, hot and bitter on his tongue. “No, I’m sorry, Nishimura,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you were thinking all that, that you were worried. I never wanted to—”

“Natsume, no, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I know it’s not on purpose, I know it’s not your fault.” Nishimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is about me saying sorry, not you. I really am sorry. And I know you told Sakuragi you wanted to come back once in a while because you didn’t want to disappoint her, but you don’t have to go back there, I’ll talk to her—"

“You don’t have to talk to her.” Natsume swallowed his shame for now, determined to set things straight. “I liked the team. I really do want to come back.”

“You don’t have to pretend, I told you, don’t lie if you don’t have to—”

“Nishimura,” Natsume interjected gently, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Nishimura finally looked over at him, eyes downcast. “It made me really happy. When we won, and everyone was cheering, and I saw how excited you were…I don’t know. Running is just something I do sometimes, and I don’t think it’s special or particularly like it. But being able to help you was the first time I felt like it was something…more.” More than survival. More than something I’m forced to do.

“Really…?” Nishimura hesitated, looking disbelieving.

“Really. And I really am glad I came here. I enjoyed it, you know, until I tripped. But even then, everyone was nice and helped me. It made me want to come back.”

Nishimura stared at him for a while, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and leaned back. “Okay, well, good.” Natsume could see Nishimura’s shoulders slump as the tension drained out of him. “But I still pushed you. You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m just sorry I did it and I won’t do it again.”

“Okay, apology accepted.”

Nishimura looked startled, like he’d expected Natsume to keep fighting him on this, then his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, man.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me either. I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you guys out when I get hurt. I’ll stop hiding it or trying to downplay it. I mean, I do want all of you to understand I…” Natsume knew better than to say he was “used to it” now, so he searched around for a less alarming but still honest way to phrase it. “I have a high pain tolerance, so sometimes it really doesn’t seem like a big deal.

“Dude, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He could tell from how Nishimura looked at him he’d heard the “I’m used to it” even though Natsume hadn’t said it out loud.

“No, I know. Look, from now on, I’ll admit when something hurts.” He looked down at his ankle, wincing. “Like my ankle really hurts right now. I don’t want to go to the hospital but I’m kind of looking forward to getting painkillers.” He looked over at Nishimura. “Did that work? Or did it just sound whiney?”

“Nah, you need to whine a little more, man.” Nishimura punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m telling you, it feels good. When I sprained my ankle a couple years ago, I whined to everyone I knew. That whine was weak. Try harder.”

“It’s…uh, agony. I…might die? Was that good.”

“You need to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.”

They both laughed. Just laughing soothed something in Natsume, his stomach unknotted, and his racing heartbeat slowed. His ankle even hurt a little less.

When the laughter settled, Natsume looked down, twisting his fingers in his lap. “Look, I know I… kind of lie and hide things as reflex a lot. But I’ve been trying to be more open with the people I care about.”

Nishimura shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, Kitamoto and I aren’t that stupid, we know there’s something going on with you, but you can take as much time as you need. I know you must have your reasons.”

“Thanks.”

Nishimura chuckled suddenly, looking past Natsume.

“Uh oh, here comes your cat. He looks mad! It’s almost like he knows something happened.”

Nyanko-sensei was indeed stomping towards them, his eyes narrowed.

“Agh, I’m really in trouble this time,” Natsume said. Nyanko-sensei jumped into his lap, making sure to throw his heavy weight around as he landed. “Oof.”

“Oh, your troubles have just begun. Don’t forget Touko!” Nishimura said cheerfully.

“Like I could.”

“I wouldn’t use the “I could die” line on her, she might believe you.”

“Amazing advice, thank you.”

Nishimura smirked. “I’d tell you to run, but, you know.”

Mmm…” Natsume said, stroking Nyanko-sensei, who was making faint, irritated noises. “That’s okay. There are some things I don’t want to run away from."

---

*Yes Sasada has a sports and academic rival yuri storyline going in the background. Yes I'm being self indulgent. It's what she deserves. I just thought it would be fun and maybe funny. Sasada's having this whole romantic epic while Natsume's worrying about track. *Touko has been bragging about how kind and helpful you are, Natsume, you dummy. And about the garden he made and how it was good it was and other things Natsume does really well he hasn't noticed. She's also probably noticed he's fast and relatively strong for his size, he's always fetching and carrying stuff for her, but Coach thought she was exaggerating. UNTIL NOW. I hope you enjoyed this! It was way longer than I thought it would be. And I wish I could have made it funnier. But I had a fun time with my first Natsume fic!

Here's the ao3 link again:

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