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#my dude if you can hear me psychically then you need to get on here soon
insanechayne · 10 months
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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The final part to the Wingman Wayne AU is here! (And I also decided to publish the whole thing on ao3!!!)
'You got somethin' you wanna tell me?' asks Wayne when he steps out of the trailer to join Eddie for a smoke, the door creaking behind him.
Eddie still can't believe how that man never fails to be one step ahead of him.
'Um... Can I um...' He clears his throat. He doesn't know why he's being so nervous all of a sudden – it's just Wayne, after all. 'We're having dinner together tomorrow, right?'
'Always on Sunday,' Wayne confirms. His perceptive blue eyes wander over his nephew’s face like he's concerned about something. Then, a strong hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder.
'You know you can tell me anything, right?'
Of course he does. He breathes out, thinks back to that excited look in Wayne’s eyes when he first gave Eddie that number. Wayne’s safe. Always has been, always will be.
'Can I invite my boyfriend?'
His uncle arches an eyebrow, deepening the lines on his forehead. 'Your boyfriend, huh?' he repeats. 'Is he named Chad?'
Eddie bursts into laughter. Of course he would react like that.
'No, he's not,' he answers. 'He's named Steve.'
'Ha! I knew it!'
Eddie only rolls his eyes; of-fucking-course this was going to happen.
'So I take it you wanna tell me you learned to never doubt your old uncle again, huh?’
Eddie snorts. 'Need I remind you that I only met up with him to stop your ridiculous matchmaking?'
'And now that you know how wrong you were ‘bout that one, you wanna apologize to me for bein’ as stubborn as a goddamn mule and beg me to not stop my matchmaking after all?'
'No, I very much still want you to stop that,' Eddie retorts. 'I'm actually planning to keep this one around long enough for you to never have to play matchmaker again. But you know what, Steve has this lesbian friend, I'm sure she'd love to be set up with a cute girl who “looks like a lesbian” to you.'
Wayne doesn't seem to register the sarcasm in Eddie's voice or the teasing twinkle in his eyes; he frowns, looking like he's deep in thought, before his face lights up all of a sudden.
'I met this nice young lady who works for the Gazette, she did some article 'bout the working circumstances at the plant a couple weeks back. Was real polite, actually listened to what we had to say for a change... I'm sure she'd get along just fine with Steve's friend.'
Eddie starts cackling. 'Don't let it get to your head now, old man.' He pauses. 'Or actually, maybe you should. You could become, like, the psychic of the gays. Earn lots of money with it.' Eddie wiggles his eyebrows as he says it.
Wayne merely shakes his head at him, but an almost invisible smile is tugging at his lips. Suddenly, he brusquely pulls Eddie in for a sideways hug.
'I'm happy for ya, Ed. You better keep your Steve around for a while, alright?'
-------
As soon as Steve arrives at the trailer, Eddie launches himself into in his arms and immediately gets himself a taste of the most delicious kind of strawberry known to mankind, because he might as well profit as much as he possibly can from the fact that he can actually do that now.
Steve gapes at him, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyebrows raised in bewilderment. 'Dude. Did you just lick my mouth?'
Eddie shrugs. 'Tastes like a lollipop.'
It isn't until he takes a step back that he properly notices the parts of Steve that aren't his pink lips: he's wearing a dinner jacket and holding a bunch of flowers – which by the looks of it got mildly maimed by Eddie's enthusiastic greeting.
'What the fuck, Stevie.' It slips out before Eddie can help it.
'What?' Steve gives him another confused look.
'I mean, don't get me wrong, you're looking insanely hot right now, but... Why are you dressed like we're about to go to the opera?'
'Meeting the parents for the first time, gotta make a good impression!'
'You already met Wayne,' Eddie blankly points out.
'I didn't meet him as your boyfriend, though.' Your boyfriend. It feels fucking unreal to hear Steve say that. And judging by the way it makes Eddie's stomach all floaty and his mouth unable to stop smiling, it's gonna be very bad for that scary metal image he's been working so hard on crafting for himself.
'He's already, like, your number one fan,' Eddie says. 'You need to fuck up real bad to not make a good impression here.'
An adorably relieved look crosses Steve's face at those words.
Eddie squints at Steve's clothes, from the baby-blue button-down to the neatly polished fancy shoes that already got completely ruined by the muddy trailer park ground.
'Dude, you know where we are, right?' he says. 'Just – take a look around you. Do you think we are the kind of people that care about formal clothing and fucking flowers? We were barely able to fit a third chair around the dinner table, we're literally gonna be eating canned macaroni.'
Steve furrows his brows. 'Are you trying to scare me off?'
'No, I'm just giving you the facts. Because you look like you were expecting cloth napkins and, I dunno, maybe the Queen of England.'
'Not really. Just wanted to do it properly.' He shrugs lightly and suddenly seems smaller, like Eddie is not the only one who sometimes gets overwhelmed by figuring out this whole relationship thing they have going on. 'It's important to me. And honestly, your uncle deserves even more respect than the Queen of England, for getting you into my life, you know.'
And Jesus, if that isn't enough to make Eddie melt into a puddle right on the spot... He hopes Steve doesn't notice how rapidly he's suddenly blinking.
'So, you gonna take these or not?'
Steve holds out the flowers, almost hesitant, like he's half expecting Eddie to refuse them. As if he could ever refuse anything Steve would gift him.
'Why thank you, my darling,' Eddie says with a bow. 'You're actually the first guy who ever brought me flowers.' He lets his fingers linger around Steve's as he takes the bouquet from him.
A soft smile crosses Steve’s face. 'And you're the first guy I ever brought flowers to.' He still doesn’t pull his hands away, but instead leans in closer to give Eddie a peck on his lips. And maybe, just maybe, there's something about the whole thing – the jacket, the flowers, the sweetness – that Eddie could actually get used to.
'You wanna get inside and say hi to my uncle?'
'I'd love to. Can't wait to thank him properly for being the greatest matchmaker on earth.'
'Please don't tell him that,' Eddie says with a chuckle. 'He really doesn't need any more encouragement. I'm pretty sure he's already scheming to set up a queer dating agency or some shit.'
‘You should know by now I can hear everything you're sayin' from here!’ Wayne’s voice yells from inside the trailer.
Steve grins as Eddie grabs his hand tighter to lead him inside.
‘It wouldn't hurt you to show him some more support in following his dreams, you know,’ he mumbles to Eddie under his breath.
‘Jesus H. Christ, I can���t believe you’re already teaming up with him to bully me before you even met him!’
He should probably be mad about it, but Steve squeezes his hand and gives him such a precious smile that the only thing he can do is smile back at him.
Holy shit creating this silly little AU has honestly been such a wild ride thanks to all your reactions to it, i can’t say enough how happy all those notifications have made me and I still can’t believe there were SO MANY OF YOU who asked to follow along!!<3333
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obsidiancreates · 4 months
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Sid's In Psych Lolz (Existential Horror For The Main Cast Though)
Buzz carefully balances Detective Lassiter’s coffee, a danish for Detective Juliet, and two chocolate croissants in case Shawn and Gus show up today in one hand as he fumbles to put his wallet away with the other. It’s a bright, beautiful day in Santa Barbara, which likely means some kind of murder or major heist is well underway. Sometimes it seems like the more picturesque the day is, the more wild it’ll be.
He gets some good evidence for that theory when he narrowly avoids bumping into a frantic-eyed, shaking young woman. She looks up at him, and her eyes glaze over entirely as her jaw drops.
“Whoa, miss, are you okay?” Buzz is barely done saving his coffee shop goods when he moves his hand to her shoulder, reaching down about as much as he’d have to with Shawn or Gus. She’s young, probably late teens or early twenties, and so pale he assumes she must be a tourist. Her face is stuck as that of shock, but waving a hand in front of her face he’s not sure anyone’s home to reset the breaker.
“Miss, can you hear me? My name is Buzz McNab-”
A shaky, squeak-like laugh escapes her. 
Buzz’s concern worsens when he notices she’s favoring her right side, and her lip is busted open. But given the state of her arm, scrapped up and dotted with rocks, he’s pretty sure she got it all from falling on her side. “Hey, are you in danger? I’m with the SBPD-”
She wavers like she’s about to pass out- and then she does. 
Buzz hopes, as he catches her, that Detective Lassiter won’t mind the lack of coffee when he comes in with a wounded Jane Doe instead.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“This better not be another international thief or forger,” Gus warns as he parks. 
“Gus, it’s not even in the top five possibilities here,” Shawn assures as he gets out. “Chief said the girl is pretty much incoherent.”
“So what’re we supposed to do?”
“Psychically translate her ramblings, that’s what.” Shawn waits for a fistbump that never comes. “Come on! It’ll be easy, I just need you in there checking for signs of drugs while I check for signs of lying or just plain being bananas. Oh, there’s Buzz with her bag!” Shawn jogs over to Buzz, who’s registering the bag for evidence. “Buzz, my good man! Chief called us in for the uh, rambling girl.”
“Oh, good.” Buzz is visibly relieved. “I’m actually the one who found her. She’s in pretty bad shape.”
“How bad?”
“Looks like she fell onto a road or something, and when I spoke to her she went completely blank! When she came to on the ride here she started asking me if she’s really in Santa Barbara and if I’m the real Buzz McNab.”
“Huh.” Shawn shares a look with Gus, both thinking the same thing: possible kidnapping escapee. “Mind if I get a reading on her bag there before I go talk to her? It might help me get a clearer image for whatever she’s saying.”
“Sure.” Buzz hands it over easily. “Just, make sure to hand it over to the evidence guys when you’re done, and don’t take anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, man.” Shawn takes the bag over to a bench by the wall and starts rifling through it.
“Careful, Shawn. If she actually got kidnapped, this stuff might be all she’s got left.”
“I know that, Gus, I’m being careful. … Dude, there’s three different books in here. Chief said she’s like, twenty-something, but she’s carrying around The Hobbit? … And a box of safety pins?”
“Safety pins?”
“Yeah, and look at this. What kind of phone even uses a charger like… whoa.” Shawn pulls the phone in question out. “Dude, it’s a smartphone that folds!”
“What?!” Gus snaps to attention at that, sitting next to Shawn and reaching for it. “How is that- it has two camera lenses?!”
“And check out that power button, it’s totally flat against the side of the phone. Maybe she was in the tech industry before she ended up here.” Shawn keeps digging. “Lip glosses, a bunch of surgical masks? Ha, jackpot!”
He pulls out a plain black wallet and opens it up. “ID right in the top, sweet! Looks like our Jane Doe is…”
His brows pinch. He slides the ID out of it’s clear holder and reads it again. “... Definitely not, a real ID.”
“Why not?” Gus leans in to look at it. Shawn faces Gus, and flicks the ID card around.
“Because it says she was born six years ago.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“So, how’s it looking in there?” Shawn asks Jules as he gets his first look at the girl in question. Given the likely fake nature of the ID, he’s not sure he should think of her as the name on it quite yet.
“Not great,” Jules sighs. “She’s saying the same things over and over.”
“No, I’m serious,” the girl in the room insists. Shawn zeros in on two things even through the glass- the girl’s leg won’t stop shaking under the table, and she’s picking at the skin around her fingernails. Could be signs of lying, but given her circumstances it could just as easily be from drug side effects or some kind of mental illness or trauma. 
“I understand you believe what you’re saying,” Lassiter says to her, “But-”
“Please, I’d like to talk to Shawn Spencer, he’ll believe me, he’ll know I’m telling the truth here.”
“Whoa whoa, Chief never mentioned her asking for me by name.”
“She just started a few minutes ago- Shawn, she’s very unwell. She…” Jules takes a deep breath and shrugs. “She’s saying she’s from 2023, in a different world.”
Gus looks in at the girl with new concern. “So she’s delusional? Shouldn’t we be handing her off to a hospital?”
“Not until we’re sure about her identity. Shawn, if you can glean anything about who she actually is-”
“Don’t worry Jules, I’ve got this.” Shawn taps on the window. “LASSIE! I’LL TAKE OVER HERE, BUDDY!”
Lassiter startles a little at the knock and shout, but gets up with surprisingly little of his usual grumbling.
“She’s all yours, Spencer,” he says as they swap places.
The girl visibly relaxes when Shawn and Gus step into the room, though the shaking leg and picking don’t stop. Shawn also notices she’s chewing the inside of her mouth non-stop, and her eyes are darting all around- again, he’s not sure if it’s a sign of lying or of serious mental issues. He and Gus sit down, and the girl smiles at them.
“Hi. My name is Shawn Spencer, Psychic Detective,” Shawn starts, using a more delicate voice than usual- this girl is pale and her face is somewhat gaunt. She’s not starving looking, but she’s thin and has little to no muscle, meaning either a lazy lifestyle and good metabolism, or, given the kidnapping theory, being forced not to move for a long, long time. She’s clean, though, save for the split lip and bits of road dirt smeared on her arm still. Her clothes are nice too- new, or at least seldom worn. Her shirt is for a band he thinks he’s seen on MTV before that weren’t really his preference, My Chemical Romance, and he’d guess she’s worn it less than ten times given how new it looks. She’s got a cheap choker on, fake leather with plastic spikes and a little bedazzled heart in the center. She wants to look edgy, and he respects the effort, but the lack of makeup puts her at odds with the now fading-out trend for the style she’s clearly emulating. 
It’s also a little at odds with the large, practical, and very green backpack, and the contents inside. The lipglosses were clear and a very light brown, and there was no eyeliner or nail polish in sight. The books weren’t what he’d expect from someone dressing like this either- The Hobbit is old and pretty far on the nerd-reading scale for someone not in school, even for Gus, and the other two books were some kind of sci-fi- The Murderbot Diaries, which would’ve worried him if Gus hadn’t read the first few pages while Shawn went through the extra pockets and realized the name was a sort of joke and the robot actually didn’t like to murder.
All of these thoughts and details run through Shawn’s mind in a couple of seconds at most, but the way the girl looks at him is almost like she knows what he’s thinking- or knows how he’s thinking. It’s something expectant, maybe even excited.
Then again, apparently she’s heard of him, so she’s probably just excited to see him ‘having a psychic episode’.“This is my partner, Baggins Screwloose.”
Her smile widens. “You went through my bag.”
“No, nothing like that-”
“You did, you saw my books, which means you saw my ID.” She leans forward. “Don’t call me that though, the name, call me Sid instead. If I have to be Isekai’d into one of my comfort shows, I want to be called by my online name. Just in case.”
“Uh, Shawn?” Gus whispers into Shawn’s ear from such a close proximity that literally anyone other than Gus would get slapped away for it on pure instinct. “I think she’s just crazy.”
Shawn gives a little nod, but doesn’t say anything. He turns back to… Sid. “So the ID isn’t your real one, then?”
“No, it is.”
“... You… realize it says you’re from the future.”
“Not your future, though. Well, maybe. I don’t know, the movies haven’t gone past 2019 yet- I mean the Monk movie did apparently so since it’s the same universe I guess the pandemic is canon to your future too but-”
“Let’s, slow down.” Shown puts his hands up and smiles at her. “Uh, movies? Comfort show? I mean I’m flattered, really, but uh, I’m no movie star.”
“Oh, yeah, getting ahead of myself. Sorry, I’m excited, and I’m a fellow ADHDer, ha.”
Shawn’s smile drops a little. How does she know- no, she probably guessed from some article describing him. He’s not exactly hiding it, after all.
“Okay so basically, I’m from a world where you guys are a TV show!” She says it so brightly, so confidently. Shawn’s almost certain she’s got brain damage now. “Called Psych, ran from 2006 to 2014, with three movies currently out and a fourth waiting to be started and hopefully many more after that!”
“Really?” Shawn looks at the glass, giving the detectives behind it a ‘You couldn’t have warned me about this?’ look before looking back at Sid. “So uh, this show is about me and Gus and our agency?”
“Yes, and Jules and Lassie too, and your dad shows up a lot- no offense but I fucking hate him.”
“M-my dad?” Shawn laughs. He’s not going through something like this again, not just a few months after Yang. “Alright, what’s the game here?”
“None! I can prove that you’re a TV show. I can tell you stuff that no-one, not even Yang or the world’s best detectives, could tell you about your past.” Sid grins like she hasn’t just said the most terrifying sentence in the world. 
“Shawn, we need to leave,” Gus says, already standing up. “Thank you for your time, Miss Delusional Woman, but-”
“The hat game.” Sid’s eyes are locked with Shawn’s. “I know about the hat game, and he wouldn’t let you get the cake unless you succeed at it. I know about the doghouse, the one he made you complete years later and then you gave him your neighbor’s dog just to ruffle his feathers for it. I know that you and Gus got into a fight over Battleship one time because you were cheating by not putting out any of your boats, so your stupid dad made you play with one less piece for a month. These were all cold-open flashbacks at the beginning of the episodes, a formula the show followed for years. A flashback to your childhood, usually involving Gus and always involving your dad and some lesson he wanted to teach you, and then the main plot which was somehow related! Like how in the one where you went to find the missing kid at the ComicCon type thing, the flashback was to how your dad was a total asshole about you wanting to read comic books and put you off them until adulthood-”
Shawn stands up, his chair scraping back, as Gus stares at the girl in unabashed terror. Shawn levels a finger at her. “You’re working with Yang, or-or you talked to my dad or my mom-”
“You totally gaslit George Takai in that episode,” she presses on, “And Jules said she also collects comics and stuff! And-and I know about Jules and Lassie too of course- OH! That bar! For the-the astrologist murder case! You met Lassie at that bar, and he said to you while drunk, and I quote, ‘You astound me.’ And then he denied it afterwards until the very end of the episode, and then you repeated it back to him!”
Shawn hears Lassie yelling for McNab and The Chief in the other room, but his head is spinning too much to care. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m from another world where you’re the main character of a TV show that I adore, and I don’t know how I got here. I-I’m not even in the right year- I’m guessing this is around 2009? It’s season four for sure, because to be frank that’s your hottest season and you’re smokin’ right now, but also that jacket-”
“Shawn, we need to go.” Gus pulls on his arm. “She’s crazy!”
Sid stands up. She’s as tall as both of them, slightly taller with her boots. “I’m telling the truth! I’m not a stalker, I’m not working with Yang, and I’m not going to hurt anyone! I promise, I’m telling the truth!”
She is, she is, the nervousness has disappeared and her voice is steady and she’s making direct eye contact and nothing about her says she’s lying and even more she’s saying things she’d have no possible way of knowing otherwise.
“Okay.” Shawn purses his mouth, and then looks at the one-way glass. He knows, just intuitively after looking, that Jules and Lassie are gone and no-one replaced them. It’s just him, Gus, and this girl. He puts his hands on the table and leans in close. “Okay. Answer one thing, and I’ll believe you.”
Sid nods. “Shoot. Not literally, though, please, I also know you’re like, literally a perfect shot.”
“... Am I psychic?”
She blinks, and tilts her head like she’s thinking deeply. “Well, no, if we go by spoken canon. You started claiming to be psychic because you called in a tip while hooking up with a girl, and then Lassie brought you in because he said the shop owner had a partner and they suspected you because of how good your information was, quote, ‘So good it could only come from inside,’ end quote. But when you tried to say you call in tips all the time Lassie listed your job history and the car theft, and refused to believe you, and was about to send you to a cell. Then the lady from the front desk walked in to book you, and she was decked out in spiritual stuff so you got the idea and solidified your claim by telling them about the guy with the tail light shards in his boot, which of course you actually met him while waiting to be interrogated and-”
“Oh my god.” Shawn stands up from leaning on the table and wipes his hand down his mouth. “Oh my god, Gus, she’s real.”
“What?!”
“That’s what happened, there’s no way she could know that’s what happened!”
“She could’ve been here when you got arrested!”
“What, in the interrogation room?!”
“He came to see you at work after,” Sid presses on, looking at Gus now. “He caught you playing games on your computer, and told you that you two were starting a private detective agency, and you told him you were never going along with him again, you learned that at the Mexican border- twice!”
Gus’s eyes go half-lidded, and he looks like he might faint. “Oh… my god! Oh my god!”
“When am I in the season, though? What was your last case? I gotta know, there’s stuff I want to make sure I avoid-”
“Uh, I think- our last case was-was Gus had this girlfriend who liked extreme-”
“Ah, the Ruby thing! Okay, so like, mid season four, which means… ah, shit, the outbreak episode. I already live in a gosh-damn global pandemic, I’m keeping my fucking distance when that happens, okay?”
“You live in- what?”
“Mr. Spencer, out of the way,” The Chief says as soon as the door opens, Lassiter and Jules right behind her. “We’re putting this Jane Doe into custody until-”
“No, Chief!” Shawn shakes his head. “No, she’s- well.” He looks at Sid, who smiles so earnestly at him. “She’s telling the truth.”
“Oh, come on, Spencer.” Lassiter walks further in with handcuffs. “You’ve jumped on some wacky trains before, but this is-”
“What do I have to say to convince you, Lassie?” Sid looks at Shawn. “I can say the interrogation thing again, just, you know, his parts.”
“What interroga-”
“When you first met Shawn and he claimed to be psychic, after you booked him for a… I think radio store robbery, that you thought he was involved in. You were chewing gum the whole time, and you futzed with your then romantic and force partner’s ponytail even while interrogating Shawn.”
Lassiter’s face goes from annoyed to enraged in a second. “How the hell do you-”
“You and Chief Vick were on the way to a conference thing when her water broke, and you asked her to move your briefcase because it’s leather and you hadn’t scotchguarded it! And then you put up your siren on your car!”
Chief Vick is dumbstruck for a moment, mouth agape. Sid turns to her unnervingly knowing gaze to Jules. “And-and you have a boyfriend you’re planning on meeting at a train station sometime soon, you guys agreed to meet up on a specific day and time, and he gave you a figurine from a set, and your brother is a secret operative who you had to arrest-”
“Shawn, who is she?” Jules takes a step back. “Is she psychic too?”
“No such thing,” Lassiter growls.
“I’m naming moments from a TV show,” she stresses. “And if you give me my phone I can even show you the show! Not-not the whole thing, because- I mean, well- I’ll show you clip compilations on YouTube! I’ll play the title song! I’ll show you the actor’s IMDB pages, Gus’s actor was on Broadway and drama shows and Lassie’s actor was in this great musical fantasy show called Galavant and Jules was in a Hallmark movie one time-”
“This is utter bull!” Lassie shoves Shawn away and goes to cuff Sid.
“You couldn’t keep up with Henry while the two of you were tracking Shawn after he got shot, and you said ‘It’s steroids, isn’t it? I knew it, you’re juicing aren’t you?’ right before you both came across the gas station-”
“You have the right to remain silent and I highly suggest you embrace it before you say anything even more incriminating-”
“None of you have ever seen Chief Vick’s husband! Shawn keeps a packet of Johnson and Johnson baby shampoo in his wallet! Lassie once brought a Wii over to Jule’s house for her nephew’s to play with and-and he put baby Jesus in a shot glass! Chief Vick has a sister and Shawn and Gus found out because her sister pulled their boat over and the two got into an argument!”
“SHUT-”
“DETECTIVE LASSITER!” 
Everything freezes.
Chief Vick, visibly shaken, holds her hand up. “Uncuff her.”
“Chief, she’s clearly unsta-!”
“Uncuff. Her.”
Lassiter shuts his mouth, and for a second it looks like he might not do it.
And then he looks down, and reluctantly removes the cuffs. 
“Alright, Miss Sid.” Chief Vick has a dangerous look in her eye. “You say you can prove it using your phone, fine. You have one chance to prove it to us. But if you can’t, you are going in the holding cells, and we will have you put in a psychiatric facility if you are lucky.”
Sid nods. “I promise, I won’t spill anymore secrets once everyone believes me.” She makes eye contact with Shawn again. “Especially important ones.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her phone is weird.
They’re all gathered in the interrogation room, Sid’s backpack on the table in front of them and her phone in her hands. She unlocks it using her thumbprint, and the apps on the screen are just… weird-looking. And her YouTube app is even weirder, just flooded with ads and weird video suggestions and truly looking like an app from another world.
She pulls up the searchbar and, quicker than anyone else in the room is capable of typing on a phone, types in Psych.
The very first suggested result is Psych Gus Running Away. She clicks on it.
A whole page of results that are, undeniably, the faces of the group around her come up. She clicks on the very first result, a short video marked as being uploaded 11 years prior, and it shows Gus, on the very first case he and Shawn worked for the SBPD, running out of the cabin they’d been investigating, screaming, as Chief Vick reacts.
“Bam!” Sid looks up, around at the whole group. “I can show more. Oh, like this one!”
She’s already gone back to the initial page, and she clicks on a video uploaded by a channel named Psych Compilations called Psych: Shawn vs Gus Running Compilation. The very first clip is of Shawn running into the Psych office during the Yang case.
“Stop.” Chief Vick puts her hand over the phone. “I don’t think any of us need to see any more.”
She looks a little ill. So does Gus, to a much more intense degree. Jules is completely speechless, and Lassiter looks angry as he realizes what and how much of his life has been viewed as entertainment by strangers in some other world. Shawn… is surprisingly unreadable. Staring at the phone, probably running a thousand different trains of thought all at once.
Sid looks between them all. “... Anyone want to hear the theme song?”
“No,” Gus says at the same time that Shawn says “Yes.”
“I’ll go with Shawn’s answer. Since he’s like, the main guy.”
“Like his ego needs any more inflating,” Lassiter grumbles, but it’s missing it’s usual bite as Sid pulls up a lyric video for what is, apparently, the theme song of their very lives.
In between the lines, there's a lot of obscurity.
I'm not inclined to resign to maturity.
If it's all right, then you're all wrong,
But why bounce around to the same damn song?
You'd rather run when you can’t crawl... 
She pauses the song. “Thoughts so far?”
“I got to admit, it’s pretty good.” Shawn looks at Gus, who still looks like he might pass out, but nods, still bopping a little. 
“Even your theme song says you're immature,” Lassiter notes.
“I’m proud of that, Lassie.”
I know, you know, that I'm not telling the truth.
I know, you know, they just don't have any proof.
Embrace the deception, learn how to bend,
Your worst inhibitions tend to PSYCH you out in the end! 
Sid pauses it again. Shawn laughs a little nervously.
“Not telling the truth that’s- I don’t lie about my investigations, guys, come on.”
“Really, Spencer? Because you were just agreeing with that theme song.”
“Who knows how different the TV show is from our lives, guys. And who says the-the theme song has anything to do with the show anyway? I mean, lots of shows have theme songs that are totally off the mark, like uh-”
“It says embrace the deception, guys,” Sid pipes up. “Embrace. Allow. Trust me, y’all need it.”
“What is that supposed to-”
“You know, Lassie. You know.”
“Chief-”
“Still can’t arrest her, Detective. … Yet.”
Sid shrugs. “This next part isn’t in the show at all, we only know it from live playings of the song- the creator of the show wrote and sang it with his own band!”
     In the realm of compliments, there isn't any higher than
A fabricated misdirection fashioned by a liar.
You think you hate all that you love,
Acting so surprised when it fits you like a glove. 
“Wow. This song is making you out to be a way better liar than you are.” Gus looks at Shawn. “Maybe the show isn’t that accurate.”
“I don’t know, early seasons Shawn was pretty snake-like,” Sid says casually. “I mean, in a good way.”
“A good way?” Jules looks at Shawn. “Shawn, why is this song all about you being a liar and manipulator?”
“I-” Shawn looks down at Sid. “What the hell are you trying to do to me, man? Turn everyone against me?!”
“Shawn isn’t a bad guy,” Sid assures. “He just… exaggerates a lot. You guys know that, I mean, has he ever even introduced Gus as his own name, or given an honest answer to a non-case-related question? No, because he’s eccentric, and a little unhinged. I should show you his reaction to Henry getting shot and almost dying.”
“Sorry to what? You’re-you’re joking, right?”
“Nope, it’s my favorite episode- even though by then you’re a complete idiot.”
“I- wh- I’m not an- you can’t just say things like that and move on-!”
“I can and I will, UNPAUSE!”
You want to find the answers then I offer a solution
Everyone has got a dose of healthy disillusion
If it's a game yeah, they wanna play
You better load the dice cause they'll do it anyway, but...
You'd rather run when you can't crawl... 
“Okay, Chief, this theme song is clearly alluding to Spencer lying about his ‘psychic abilities’, you can’t deny that.”
“No, no, Shawn is definitely psychic,” Sid says. “I can point to a lot of moments in the show that prove it. But he’s also a literal genius detective who will mix his psychic stuff with his actual deductions and pretend it’s just all psychic because it’s more fun that way.”
Vick, Lassiter, and Jules all look at Shawn. He laughs a little.
“She’s- no, trust me, it’s all psychic.”
Sid looks at Jules. “Remembering retracing Shawn’s steps when he got shot? And how he got a hundred percent on the detective’s exam at age fifteen? And the times he forgot to brush off deductions as minor psychic visions? He’s both! Genuinely!”
Jules looks at Shawn, her mouth hanging open a little bit. “Oh my god-”
“I think I hate you,” Shawn says to Sid.
“You hate that you’re smart because Henry tortured you for it. Own it, Shawn, own it now before it all goes away and you become a bumbling idiot who lucks into all your solves! Don’t become seasons six through eight Shawn, I’m begging you! God, you’re so fucking stupid in the later seasons, so stupid… and it’s already begun, the decline…”
“Whoa! Wha- one minute you’re praising me as a genius, the next you’re calling me an idiot?”
“You become an idiot later. God… season eight… I’m shuddering, look at me. The show is still absolutely hilarious and creative and wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but… your brain, it became mush…”
“Hang on, hilarious?” Lassiter glares at her. “Are you telling me… that the show we are in-” he gestures between him, Jules, and Chief Vick, “-is a comedy?”
“Yeah. Psych is a comedic crime show, heavy focus on the comedy.”
“We catch murderers.”
“There’s dramatic episodes and elements, yes. But it’s mostly a comedy.”
“We are serious police officers!”
“Yeah… lots of copaganda, unfortunately, and the 2000’s nature produces some questionable lines and plots, so the show for sure needs to have a critical eye applied to it at times… but mostly it’s fun!”
“Fun?!”
“I’d offer to show you an episode to prove it being a comedy but, well, for certain reasons I can’t do that. I can show clips of funny moments though! I have lots of compilations and specific moments and stuff I can show you, since my phone somehow has data and a connection to all the stuff from my world and time- should I show you Psych fanfic? No, probably not, I think that’d cause a lot of fighting. I can show you the clips though- oh, and cast interviews! And clips from Galavant and from the movies and-”
“Just finish the song!”
“Oh, yeah.”
I know, you know, that I'm not telling the truth.
I know, you know, they just don't have any proof.
Embrace the deception, learn how to bend,
Your worst inhibitions tend to PSYCH you out in the end. 
I know, you know.
I know, you know.
I know, you know.
I know, you know. 
The room is silent for a moment.
“Alright.” Chief Vick is the first to shake off the ordeal. “Well, we… we’ll arrange for somewhere for you to stays, Miss-”
“Obsidian if you’re using Miss, please. Sid otherwise.”
“... Miss Obsidian. Clearly, something… completely beyond us is happening here, and I think it’s in our best interest to keep a close eye on you.”
“Oh, absolutely. That’s usually how this sort of thing works.”
“... Right. I’ll be arranging for a watch at the place of residence we give you, and Mr. Spencer, I want you to find out what you can about this… reality… situation. It seems in your wheelhouse.”
“I uh… I’ll try, Chief.” Shawn is looking at Sid with some confusion. “On that note, could I speak with her alone for a second?”
“If you take her out of my office, absolutely. In fact, take her back to your office until I arrange her accommodations. She’s… well, she’s unsettling to have around the station.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn waits until they’re in the car to turn to Sid with an undeniable and uncharacteristic scowl. “What the hell was that with the theme song?! You said you wouldn’t get me caught!”
“I didn’t!”
“You told them I’m a genius detective!”
“You are!”
“And telling them you can show them proof he’s psychic was way too far,” Gus snaps. “If your show is real, all it’ll do is get us arrested!”
“I do have real psychic moments to show them! It’s actually a pretty popular fan theory, that Shawn is a real psychic and just unaware of it-”
“Oh my god.” Shawn stops facing her in the backseat, turning back around to look out the front windshield. “Now you’re being absurd.”
“I’ll show you the damn clips too! I’ll show everyone!”
“No! No, I am not learning about other realities and-and being a TV character and then also learning I’m a real psychic in the same day!”
“We can wait until tomorrow.”
“You! Are being completely insensitive and hostile about this whole thing!”
“It spiraled out of my control!”
“So far out of your control you have to call me an idiot?”
“Hey, you have the potential to become one if you aren’t careful! I’ll show you a damn season eight episode so you understand my panic, if I must!”
“No! No episodes, no theme songs, no clipshows! We’re taking you to our office, you’re sitting on our couch, and you’re going to let Gus and I figure out what the hell this all means while you just, sit there!”
“... Alright. That’s fair.”
“Yes, it is.”
“... But if Henry comes by I’m going to punch him without remorse.”
“... Not in his face.”
“Fine. His arm. I’m going to aim to bruise.”
Gus looks at her in the mirror. “How bad does the show portray him?”
“If I didn’t know it would drive Shawn into an unhinged state of revenge and sleepless obsession, I’d kill him with my own two hands.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah it’s not good.”
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quietbluejay · 7 days
Text
Godblight 1
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What in the anime lightning crackling between eyes
OWO perhaps….Eldar spotted???
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guilliman: when other people use "the ends justify the means and doing bad things to get good results is based, actually" as an excuse, it's cringe guilliman: when i do it, it's fine
ELDAR SPOTTED!!!!
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I mean it was a more tolerant age the same way dying from salmonella poisoning is better than dying from lingchi
well idk maybe Ultramar back in the day was less xenophobic than the empire was in general oh lovely it's a tzeentchian daemon …man i love it when an author goes "hey, actually, consequentialism sucks"
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time for us to meet a normal human living on a Nurglite planet ….the main thing that being in the Imperium has over being in Nurgle's dominion is the possibility, however slim it might be, that things will get better for you and in general reading this makes it abundantly clear why Nurgle would be so popular on a hive world if your suffering is guaranteed, then at least you can have guaranteed happiness with it of course "get well soon" is a nurglite curse
oh its time for mortarion to commune through the fungus with typhus this whole conversation is just:
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back to nurgle demon shenanigans with ku'gath
he's so delightful for once everyone else is sad but he's not enjoying it also it's time for baby fights two with rotigus and ku'gath this is reminding me of interactions i had with my sister when we were both like 10 or under
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amazing incredible 10/10
(on the topic of blorbos where is Voiiiii I want Voi point of view why are the sisters of silence being slept on) psyker dude: it is physically painful being in the same room as guilliman because of his stress and depression
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see, the thing about a cult of reason is that you're turning reason into a cult
Donas: Humans don't need gods because all gods are evil and from the warp Natase: #notallgods okay this is interesting and is covering something i've been curious about which is how godhood and faith work and i was right haha! so, some gods are created from faith, some are completely faith-independent, some don't need faith but get power from it nonetheless
from what i saw in the other books it seems like the faith and the emperor's power were originally separate, which is weird well kind of like the power that came from people's faith in the emperor, was independent of the emperor himself and my theory was that it's got to do with humanity being a psychic species and the warp is "your mind makes it real" and then since the faith had a specific focus (the emperor) it became attached to him and became a self-sustaining cycle
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someone pick up the phone because I called it
it's entirely possible to become a god against your own will and then get shaped by what people believe you to be natase: the incident with the girl driving back demons might have been actually you all along
guilliman: it's not enough i have to deal with everything else, but this too guilliman: nope. i reject this. guilliman: okay. okay. guilliman: ok so if the Emperor really is a god now, what does this mean for our strategy? pffff typical guilliman also i am proud of him here he's actually using reason! rather than blindly turning "reason" into a dogma and avoiding uncomfortable truths.
and now back to ku'gath once again loving some of the imagery "the hospital walls slumped like corpses" actually thinking on the subject, could Shiki kill a chaos god
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tattleslug: look everyone knows you hate everyone tattleslug: it's not a secret at all
actually wait we're back to guilliman again and im cackling he's Done
custodes dude: this is a bad idea guilliman: k guilliman: i will walk you through my reasoning one more time custodes dude: you already- guilliman: since you're making me put up with you constantly bugging me, you will have to put up with hearing me repeatedly explain things guilliman: also my final reason is if i don't get to do violence to something i am going to snap
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narrators-journal · 8 months
Note
Hello! I love your stories very much! This request is for Dr.Stone- could you do a childhood crush thing? Like Stanley Snyder/reader but he has a crush on reader while growing up? Thanks so much!
Ngl, put this ask off for a good while bc I had no good ideas with it. But! I finally got around to it with what i feel is a pretty good base. Something simple and short while I pour my heart into my bigger fic project! Thank you for the patience.
Crushes could be such a hassle. Especially for Stanley Snyder, because his biggest childhood crushes were Xeno Wingfield, and you. And, while Xeno was a can of worms all his own, you were the crush currently standing beside the marine.
Now, childhood crushes were nowhere near new to the marine, he'd had the hots for Xeno since the age of seven and still held a flame for the oddball scientist. Yet, even with Wingfield's taste for world domination, you were still the oddest crush Stan had. Simply someone he'd met at the age of twelve, one of Xeno's school pals. No one of 'real importance' according to the young mad scientist. Yet, you'd grabbed Stan's attention and held it hostage off and on since that day.
Nothing too bad, he didn't seek you out, prioritize your whims, or lose all of his composure whenever you stumbled across the pair after school, but when you did pop up through the years, he did find himself trying to show off a little. Always having the small urge to impress you like he did Xeno.
So, now that he stood beside you. In a Walmart, between bread and chips with you, in a plain grey t-shirt adorned with the bold declaration of MARINES on his chest and sweats, he couldn't quite help but hope you recognized him. "Oh my god, Stanley?" Bingo. "Oh, hey there." He hummed nonchalantly, giving you a partial wave as if he hadn't been sending psychic signals at you in hopes of getting to subtly brag. "You still living around here or something?" you nodded, "Yeah! I see you're in the military now, holy shit dude." You said, gesturing to his shirt, earning a small puff of pride in the 25-year-old. "I guess that explains why you vanished after highschool, I just kinda figured you went off to college like Xeno did." "Nah, Xee's the one who got the scholarships and money, I think the colleges would've sooner paid me to not go." He joked, enjoying the light laugh it earned. "Oh come on, you weren't that bad, I'm sure you could've made it." You assured, the marine just nodding along with your statement. Unsure of if his voice might crack under all of the dug up feelings from his teen years.
So, he instead just listened as you caught him up on your life. All of your work achievements, schooling, or family until you finally sighed, "alright, I guess I shouldn't talk your ear off. It was great seeing you again, though! It's awesome to hear you got into the marines, would it be weird to say I'm proud of you for it?" but he shrugged it off, "I don't think so, appreciate it." He assured, making you throw him a brilliant smile that hit that childhood crush like a heat seeking missile. "Great! I'm proud of you, Stan. I hope you stick around, though, I'd love to meet up again!"
With that, you headed off to go back to your groceries. Leaving Stan with such a short, simple interaction, but such a long lasting, complicated storm of emotions.
I really need to get better at resolving crushes.
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Hi! Do you think you can do a reader x Dustin from stranger things season 4 where he finds out you have a crush in him but it would be like that one scene where Erica was gonna tell Dustin what he found under Lucas’s bed but instead of that ur close friends with Erica and she threatens to tell Dustin and Lucas what she found in ur diary saying that u liked Dustin, Dustin finds out by asking later tho ofc
A/N - Ending is rushed, I’m sorry.
“Anything?”
“Nothing.” Dustin placed the Walkie Talkie down on the kitchen counter, and leaned over it. The room was silent for a moment.
“You don’t they went through…” Lucas asked.
“Through Watergate? Without us? Without a plan? Without Weapons? They wouldn’t be that stupid.” Dustin stated firmly.
“Yeah. They barely know anything about the Upside. Especially compared to us.”
“Exactly, they must just be trying to lay low cause the law got us.”
“‘The Law?’ What is this, Gunsmoke? The Stupid and the Ugly? Should I round up the posse? Shuffle the horses?”
“Erica. Please, just go away.” You said, Erica didn’t need to know. Otherwise, she could get hurt.
“Here’s the deal. Either you tell me what’s happening or I tell Dustin and Lucas what I read in your diary.
You tensed up at that. Had much did she read? It’s not like that would matter though, most of the pages were about Dustin and there were many drawings.
Dustin and Lucas both looked, the former more surprised, probably by the fact you have a diary and the latter more so curious to what was the actually context of his sisters deal.
You tried to shallow the lump in your throat, hoping it’s help with your nerves. It didn’t. “Please, no.”
She smirked at you. “Spill your guys, Cowpuncher.”
“What’d she find in your diary?” Dustin asked, causing your face to burn with embarrassment.
“Nothing.” You defended terribly.
“Is it gross?” Erica nodded to the curly haired boy’s question. “Scale of one to ten.”
“A hundred.”
“A hundred?” Dustin asked in disbelief.
“The serial killer is a dark wizard from the Upside Down. And we’ve been looking for him, but he’s in the upside down, which we can’t reach. At least we thought we couldn’t, until we found a gate at Lovers Lake. That was the reason why we were there, but these stupid cops grabbed us. And if you tell anyone about this, that’s including Your mom, and your dad and Tina… especially Tina, I… will smother you in your sleep. Do you understand?”
Erica hummed thoughtfully, resting her chin on her curled up hand.
“Erica? Do. You. Copy?”
“The smothering me in my sleep part, but no much else. Why would they open up a gate at Lovers Lake?”
“What?”
“The commies.”
“The commies didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“Nobody.”
“So it just opened up for fun?”
“Erica, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No, she doesn’t, yet she raises an essential question. How did Watergate open up? Only two gates have been opened, so far as we know. One by El, one by the Commies. But it’s not the Commies or El this time, so it…”
Dustin paused, thinking somethings up. “Holy shot. Wait, wait, wait, wait.”
“‘Wait, wait, wait,’ what?”
“There’s one thing we’ve never understood. Which is why Vecna’s killing people. What’s his motive? Killing teens? It always just seemed to random. Too prosaic. On top of that, how does the Mind Flayer figure into all this? Maybe this is it. This is the answer.”
“What is the answer?”
Karen entered the kitchen, Powell behind her, requesting some drink as she named out options. The four moved to the staircase, avoiding the two adults.
“Okay, just hear me out. How did El open the Mothergate?”
“She contacted the Demogorgon.”
“With psychic contact. Just like…”
“Like Vecna when casts his spells.”
“Exactly.” Dustin hummed, grinning at you. “So, what if, with each kill, he’s not simply killing them, he’s making a powerful psychic connection with his victims? A connection powerful enough to rip a hole in the fabric of time and space.”
“He’s opening more gates.” Lucas concluded.
“Bingo.”
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“Y/n, we got to talk dude.” Dustin ran up from behind you as you had been pretty far ahead of the group.
“Yeah?” He walked beside you now, catching his breath.
“What was it that Erica found in your diary? You seemed really worried she would tell us.”
“It’s nothing important, just puberty stuff, y’know.”
Dustin gasped. “Did you start your period?”
“I already told I did when we were like 12. You thought I was bleeding to death cause I had a red patch of blood on my pants.” You laughed, remembering his horror stricken face when he told you.
“Oh yeah, I had a few nightmares after that. I had to ask my mom what a period was cause you missed the part in explaining it to me.”
“Oh, yeah you’re right. I completely forgot most guys aren’t taught that stuff. Sorry about all that.” He grinned at him, to which he returned.
“What other puberty stuff could be in that diary of yours though. I mean, I’m even apart of you first period story.”
“Y’know, crushes, and stuff.”
“Who? Do I know them? Does any of us know them?”
“I guess, yeah?”
“I’m gonna name random people, don’t get offended please. Gareth, Jeff, Jason-“
“Eww, stop Dusty. As if I’d ever have a crush of that douchebag.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry y/n/n.”
“Haven’t heard you call me that since forever ago.”
“Yeah, I guess we don’t talk as much as we used to. Like I’m busy with the Hellfire Club and so are you. But you’re also busy with babysitting and looking after your dog.”
“I miss hanging out, riding our bikes, playing Dn’D in Mikes basement for 10 hours. I miss our sleepovers. I miss everything before all this stuff happened with the upside down happened.”
“Me too.”
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“I found it.”
“What’d you find DustyBun?”
“Your diary.” He deadpanned. He watched as the smirk fell of your face, your facial expression full of worry.
“Did you read it?”
“Didn’t have to. Erica saw me with it, assumed I read it and told me your big secret.”
“Which is?”
“You’ve liked me since we were 10. Around 5 years ago it seems to have started, according to what Erica told me.”
He starred at you, as he tossed you your diary. You didn’t make an attempt to catch it so it hit the floor right at your feet from where you sat in your families lounge room.
“How come you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought you would think I’m weird for liking my best friend.”
“Y/n it’s been 5 years, I don’t think crushes last that long, I honestly think it could be love. I asked Nancy and Robin. I obviously didn’t go to Steve or Eddie, they would on us for it.”
“Yeah, they would.”
“Why do you think I don’t like you?”
“Cause you would have had said something otherwise. You’re always so honest about the girls you like.”
“Expect for one.”
“Yeah? And whose that?”
He just started at you, waiting for it to click in.
“If you’re talking about me, then yeah right, you’re just tryin’ to make me feel less worse than I do.”
“I swear on my moms life y/n, I’m not joking.”
You chanced stay look at him. He was sitting next to you by this point. He looked to be telling the truth, as well as nervous.
“And if you are telling the truth? What do we do? You know just as well about anybody in this town that I have never been in a relationship.”
“It would me very happy, and glad, to be your first boyfriend, as well as your first kiss.”
“Did Erica tell you that too?”
“Nah I read that.”
“So you lied?”
“Mhm. All for your love.”
“Sounds like a cheesy romance movie stereotype.”
“That sounds absolutely lovely to me, y/l/n.”
“So, boyfriend, what do we do as a first date?”
“We could go annoy Steve and rent a movie, girlfriend.”
“Sounds like a plan, mr. Charmer.”
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cookinguptales · 7 months
Note
oh gosh, hello! i'd like to request a reading, if you've still got the time! i am rather nervous here as i just never go into people's asks?? but i'm stressing out quite a bit these days about my chronic illness & was thinking, like, as a particular focus, reading-wise--like how does one find joy in terrible circumstances? maybe that's stretching the limits of tarot, but i'm honestly fine with anything, really. tarot is just fascinating to me & it's been ages since i had a reading! anyway, apologies for my rambling!! i hope you have an absolutely wonderful day :)
(quick p.s. just needed to mention while i've got you how much joy your wwdits fics & meta have brought me on truly hopelessly bleak days!! just thanks, dude :) cheers!)
Thank you. ;; That's really sweet, and very nice to hear.
I suppose that when I do this reading, I'll probably be bringing some of my own opinions into it, too, having asked myself the same question due to my own chronic illness quite often. But I guess that's fine. These readings often feel like a conversation facilitated by cards. :)
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(Ten of Wands, Five of Swords, Ace of Cups)
Wow, Ten of Wands feels... very on the nose. lmao. It is actually very, very easy to read these first two cards through the lens of chronic illness. The Ten of Wands, obviously enough, is about burden. The Five of Swords... think of it almost... like a pyrrhic victory of sorts. You might have won the battle, but at what cost? You don't feel good about it, for sure.
Putting them together, I do feel the heaviness of a constant slog. Every day you carry your burdens. Your pain, your illness, the constant responsibilities that don't go away just because you're feeling poorly. And each day you succeed, more or less -- I mean, you're still here, aren't you? But oh the cost. Either you have to lower your expectations for yourself or you need to harm yourself to perform to those standards. The kind of psychic and physical damage that inflicts...
I guess... it's the sense of maintenance, isn't it? A careful balancing act every single day that doesn't quite end. All you can do is take care of it as best you can, and try not to beat yourself up whenever you drop a few wands.
Both of these cards do also have a vibe of picking your battles, so to speak. Maybe you don't need to be carrying all ten of those wands. Maybe part of the reason you keep having to put up with pyrrhic victories when you fight is because you're choosing to fight too often. We can't always dump all of our responsibilities when we're sick, but... maybe there's a way to lighten your own load a little? At least mentally, if not in the physical world.
As for the last card, though... I think this is where the true advice comes in. The Ace of Cups is a card of potential. A sort of... divine spring, if you will, from which flows all manner of good things. Love and energy and creativity. So much that the metaphorical cup is running over.
It can be tempting to try and close your hand around this cup. To try and hold tight to this water. But that's not how water works, is it? Instead, let it flow through you. Feel those new beginnings and let them fill you up, then let it all leave you again so it can find someone else.
What I'm getting at here is... Look. Life's a struggle. I know it and so do you. But there are good things in it, too. And those can feel so few and far between that you want to throw yourself into every good thing. Wring every bit of happiness from it that you can. But that's a good way to make a good thing start to feel stressful, or have it go away entirely. It turns joy into work.
Instead, think of it like a pleasant rain shower. You can't predict when it will come, and you can't save it forever. But when it comes, you can take advantage of it. Bathe in it, drink in it, let it renew you. And then let it pass through you, too. You're as much a part of the water cycle as anything.
So when good things come... take them. Don't close yourself off to opportunity just because it feels like One More Thing. Reach out to the people who love you. Have fun wallowing around in your creativity. And then pass it forward. Don't cling to those moments, but give yourself the freedom to feel them fully -- and help other people feel them, too.
For me personally... writing, while occasionally a struggle, is also an outlet. There's a certain joy to the act of creation, and it makes me happy when I can bring that joy to others as well. I can't just... look at the outcome of a story. I have to really enjoy the part where it flows through me, too, even if it feels silly or self-indulgent. Enjoy that moment, and don't think about where it ends.
I think this idea of a sort of divine (if not religious) water that connects us all as long as we open ourselves up to it, accept it, and then continue to pass it on... I think some of that really does feel like joy. Take those little moments of joy into yourself, then reach out to others and share it. Let it reflect between the two of you, magnify, and then move on.
And on the hard days... instead of walling yourself off or trying to brute force your way through happiness, just... let all that flow through you, too. The water cycle doesn't have a beginning or an end, y'know? A flood and a glass of water come from the same source.
It feels reductive to say "be open to joy and then you'll be able to feel it" but... I spent a long time looking for some mercurial something that would make my life worth living despite the pain, but... there is no flash of lightning. No sudden understanding.
You just have to stand out in the rain sometimes and ignore how soggy your socks are in favor of how nice the water feels against your skin. Just -- really, really focus on the things that make you feel good. Take the small victories where you can get them and translate that into joy that you can share.
Weirdly, I do think that stressing out about finding joy can make it harder to feel. Instead of trying to find some grand idea of happiness, though, just... I don't know. Let small things be good. Let them be enough. Let them coalesce into something like joy. Understand that pure joy absent pain probably doesn't exist, not for us, but that doesn't mean that our painful, imperfect joy is worth any less.
I don't know. I'm not a therapist or a philosopher or a psychic. I'm just a woman who, against all odds, is still here at 33. And sometimes it's a stupid vampire that makes me happy (or... sad) and sometimes it's a nice piece of cheese and sometimes it's the way the rain sounds on my window right now. When a nice thing comes, let it feel nice. And when a bad thing does, let it feel bad. Both things will pass through you with time.
And in the meantime... I do think that our humanity is strongest when we reach out to each other. And it can be easier to feel joy when we let others share both our good times and our bad times. A few of those wands we've been carrying all by ourselves or maybe some of that water flowing through our cup.
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darkisrising · 2 years
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WiP: Stranger Things
Well, I tried to write a thing but life got in the way (aka I thru my back out? wtf is that about?) Don’t know if I’ll wind up finishing it even though I’d really wanted to for @doodlethings birthday (and you should ALL check out their Steddie drawings they are PERFECTION) so here, have nearly 2k of what was gearing up to be a Stranger Things Steddie fic but for now it’s just... I dunno. Characters being characters. Or something. Anyway, post Season 4, so spoilers for that, etc. Let me know if you like it, maybe I’ll get a second wind and actually finish the damn thing, who knows. Sigh. The Baby-Sitters Club #1 - Robin’s Great Idea
Hawkins is burning.
Which, to be fair, is nothing new. It’s been months of ash raining from the sky, of fissures fracturing underground and swallowing buildings whole, of FEMA and the Red Cross and way more church disaster relief groups than Steve can remember setting up shop and helping and leaving only to arrive again at the next wave of fires and fissures and disasters and the next and the next… 
And even that is only the public stuff. There’s the years it’s been close to total destruction, held together with essentially El’s psychic equivalent of duct tape and, well, yeah.
So Hawkins is burning. Again. Big whoop.
“I’m just saying, maybe we ought to get away for a bit,” Robin says, her feet on the dash as they wait in the parking lot in front of the cluster of trailers that’s passing for the high school these days. “See the sights outside of Hawkins. Breathe air that doesn’t taste like an ashtray for a few days. You remember air, Steve, don’t you? Clean air?” 
Robin’s getting louder and closer the more fixated she becomes on this idea, her hand finding Steve’s bicep and squeezing until he finally has to nudge her away with a: “Yeah, yeah, clean air. I remember it, jeez,” before she chokes his arm to death like a boa constrictor.
“Look at this shit. Just look at it,” Robin taps at the window, as if Steve needs a visual aid when the ash hasn’t let up in four months. “This isn’t clean air. This is like the opposite. The furthest thing from. Next thing you know they’re gonna bring in a camera crew to film an environmental PSA only instead of some old Native American dude crying it’ll be a dumpy middle-aged Hoosier dad. It’ll be Mr. Wheeler, and they’ll zoom in on his face and one single tear will be coming down,” she paints an invisible line on her cheek with an index finger, and contorts her face into a truly ridiculous frown until Steve can’t help but snort a laugh. Robin’s grin is bright as she continues: “And his thick glasses will get all fogged up. Just imagine it, it’ll be so sad. So very, very sad. Are you imagining it?”
The thing of it is, he’s not even lying when he says: “Yeah, yup. Imagining it,” because if there’s one thing Robin is it’s good with words. Or at least, she’s good with words that Steve can follow. Usually. For the most part. Granted, she uses a lot of them, so it’s kind of that law of averages thing that he vaguely remembers hearing about in Statistics class way back when. That thing where, because she tries every word known to man in a single sitting, Steve’s bound to grasp some of them eventually. 
“So?” she asks with a blink of her big, blue eyes. The late afternoon sun has to work hard to slice through the thick clouds above, but it’s bright enough to find Robin’s nose through the windshield, to highlight the smattering of freckles across her face as she stares at him, waiting for a response.
“Clean air could be cool, I guess,” Steve mutters with a shrug, cutting his eyes back to the trailers just as an alarm sounds out the end of the school day. 
There aren’t many kids still around Hawkins—most families got out back in the spring when the going was good—so it’s a sad little trickle that lets out, making their way down the stairs of their trailers which rock a bit with the movement. It’s nothing like the rush of people Steve remembers back when he was the king of Hawkins High, back when the student population was a sea that parted for anyone in a letterman jacket like they were that dude from the Bible, the one that parted the sea. Or maybe he walked on it—or was that a flood?—something like that, Steve never really did pay attention to that church shit back when his parents were around to drag him in every Sunday.
Now that Hawkins is ground zero for every Satan-fighting crusader in the Midwest, he’s even less inclined to give a shit about Christianity. Especially since all those brain-dead Bible thumpers seem to agree that, as far as they’re concerned, Satan’s name starts with an ‘E’ and ends with an ‘ddie Munson’ and that, well, that makes Steve want to do things like pick up a bat and go to town on every stained glass window the Presbyterian church has left. 
Robin pokes his knuckles where they're gripping the steering wheel, scarred skin now bone white from how tight he's holding on, and with a start he lets go. He wipes his palms against his legs, rucking up his twill pastel blue shorts up his thighs even higher. Not that they're sweaty or anything, but it gives him something to do so he doesn't have to think about why, whenever he starts to think about Eddie Munson lately, a pit to rival any Upside Down gate opens in his guts.
"You good?"
"Yeah," Steve answers with a scoff. "Why wouldn't I be?" and Robin at least has the decency not to say anything else about it, even if her eyebrows are creased together with worry.
He catches sight of his band of merry misfits and pops the locks as they trudge closer. He waits. And waits. And waits some more, before hitting the button on the power windows and mutters "Would it kill them to pick up the pace?" to no one in particular before shouting out: “Come on, Henderson, Sinclair, Byers, Wheeler, Hopper, let’s go, go, go,” as he pounds on the outside of his driver’s side door.
When the door finally opens, Steve grouses “You know, maybe the rest of these dweebs I’m not surprised at, but you, Sinclair? You? You were on the basketball team. Where’s that hustle? Where’s that drive, huh?”
Lucas rolls his eyes as he tosses his backpack in, the rest of the brat pack following close behind as they all pile in, one by one, as Dustin whines: “Are you out of your mind? That new grape flavor absolutely ruined Fruity Pebbles."
"Well. Agree to disagree," Lucas shoots back, settling into his seat.
Mike, El, and Will squeeze their way into the back row, and for every twinge of regret Steve gets now and then for trading in his maroon BMW for an ‘84 Dodge Caravan, it's nothing compared to the ache of relief he feels somewhere around his demobat scars whenever he's got his entire brood together in one place.
The minivan might not be the sexiest thing that’s ever rumbled down the roads of Indiana, but he doesn’t even care anymore. Sex, once almost synonymous with the Steve Harrington name, is now the furthest thing from his mind. The change has been building for a while now, pretty much ever since his first taste of that whole, weird world just beside this one, but ever since the showdown with Venca a few months back Steve has all but lost interest. Girls and dates and sliding through the bases, it just doesn't do it for him anymore.
Now his life is simpler. Quieter. He picks up hours at the grocery store for cash, and helps out with whatever volunteer effort is in town, and ferries around his twerps whenever he can, and at the end of the day he crashes face first into the narrow, stupid bed of the RV camper he never bothered to return. Wake up and do it all again the next day.
True, there's a whole thing with El laying low as Jane, and Will's goosebumps, and being on the lookout for the next great disaster that's going to hit any day now, but even that is whatever. It doesn't take up much of his attention. He leaves that crap to everyone else. Say the word, he'll be there, ready to kick ass and take names but until then his life is this:
A minivan with faux wood panel siding, and a Robin riding shotgun, and five (sometimes six, on the rare occasions that Erica decides to grace them with her presence) little jerks bitching and moaning and arguing about Fruity fucking Pebbles behind him. 
“It’s disgusting,” Dustin declares. “It’s trash, it besmirches the names of Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, and Post cereal should be ashamed of themself for this stunt. Come on, somebody. Back me up here!”
“I like it,” El says, voice soft and through the rear view mirror Steve can see her shy, one-shouldered shrug and quirked half-smile. For a kid with all the power in the world, she’s still so quiet most of the time. It’s easy to forget she could probably crush them all like a Coke can with just a thought if she ever had a reason to. 
Steve’s not used to people having an advantage in life without being more than willing to take it, to lord it over people or worse, turn it into a weapon, be it that they’re stronger or smarter or richer or come from a long line of guys with a great head of hair. Survival of the fittest, as his dad always liked to say, but Eleven seems perfectly content to stay small, and unassuming, and curl up next to Mike in the back. There’s something about that almost feels like permission? in a way? For Steve to not worry so much that, for all that he’s older, he’s been well and truly whipped by a ragtag group of children into being their stooge. Even if it does piss him off that no one is listening when he yells through the chaos: “Okay. Seat belts, we all got our seat belts on back there?” 
“I like it, too!” Mike agrees, a little too eager to take El’s side, and Dustin rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t rattle out of his skull completely.
“Safety first, guys. Come on—”
“Honestly,” Will chimes in. “I just think it’s weird they have a cereal that’s basically like ‘here, kids, eat some rocks for breakfast.’”
“I paid for the extra row of seats—“
“I mean, Pop Rocks are, you know, also rocks. But in candy form,” Lucas points out.
“Yeah,” Will agrees. “And that’s weird, too, when you think about it.”
“ —the least you little shits could do is buckle up.”
“So then don’t think about it!” Dustin yells.
“Well,” Lucas says with a sigh. “Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Wait, isn't Fred Flintstone’s daughter called ‘Pebbles’?” Mike asks.
“Oh, because that makes sense, we’re eating Fred’s child instead of—”
“I never said—”
Robin launches herself forward, twisting at the radio dials until the Miami Sound Machine is blasting through the minivan, Gloria Estefan crooning how words get in the way as everyone slaps their palms to their ears. When Robin turns it down again, everyone has been cowed into silence and her raspy voice is smug when she says: “There. Brutal, but effective. Anyway, you were saying, Steve?”
“Oh, uh,” he answers with a blink. “Right, yeah. Seat belts on.”
This time they actually do it, even if Dustin is muttering to himself: ”Of course Steve is listening to mom music.”
“Hey, dude, come on. It was the radio. I don’t control the radio.”
“Sure, sure. I believe you,” Dustin says, dripping with sarcasm. “I toooootally believe you. Mom.”
“Hey,” Robin raises a finger in warning and Steve doesn’t need to spare another look sideways to see she’s not as serious as she’s pretending to be. “Show some goddamn respect.” She settles back into her seat. “That’s Mr. Mom to you.”
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tomboyjessie13 · 1 year
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DIO's Mansion D'Arby's Game room and Wine cellar Spring 1988 - Evening ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
T. D'Arby and Medea: *Playing "Oh! That's A Baseball!", with their table space covered in games, Coca Cola cans, Pringles, and a half-empty pizza box*
T. D'Arby: *Wearing his glasses, hair down, and jacket off his shoulders, he's playing as the Red Dragons at the bat* Hmm...
Medea: *Wearing her Egyptian attire sans head shawl and shoes, she's about to throw the ball as the Gray Cats* Heeey batta batta, Heeey batta batta, Heeey batta batta, Sa-wing!
T. D'Arby: What...?
Medea: Heeey batta batta, Heeey batta batta, Kennedy Kennedy Kennedy, *Throws ball* Sa-wing batta!
T. D'Arby: *Barely hits the ball* NGH! 
*HOME RUN!*
T. D'Arby: Phew, *to Medea, smugly* nice try, Miss King, but even your diversionary tactic isn't going to beat me.
Medea: *Shrugs* Well, at least I tried. *Drinks Coca Cola*
T. D'Arby: Fu fu fu, you really are a baseball enthusiast... *Feels something between his legs* Hmm??? *Looks down and sees Kenny G popping up* AHH! GET OUT OF THERE!
Medea: *Looks over in disgust* Ugh, in front of my pizza?
Kenny G: Sorry for the intrusion, but I came to warn you both that Lord DIO's on his way here, you better look presentable. *Goes away*
T. D'Arby: Ahh crap. *Pauses the game, removes glasses, and starts using air freshener* And I was just about to win to.
Medea: *Wraps her shawl around her head and neck* In your dreams, Trent. *Starts cleaning up the empty cans and throwing them away*
T. D'Arby: *Fixes his outfit and hair before hiding the pizza box and pringles* 
*FOOT STEPS*
T. D'Arby: Here he comes! *He gets into position*
DIO: *Enters the room* Evening, everyone~
T. D'Arby and Medea: *Bows to him* Evening, Lord DIO.
T. D'Arby: Is there something troubling you, my Lord?
DIO: No, I'm fine, D'Arby... *To Medea* Medea, I need to talk to you privately about something, it'll only take a few minutes.
Medea: *Confused* ???...... O-ok? *Follows DIO* Take 5, Trent.
T. D'Arby: Ok...
Medea and DIO: *Leaves the room, now they're standing in the wine cellar*
Medea: *Irritated*.....Alright, you got me out of the game before I could beat D'Arby. Now what did you want to say?
DIO: *Serious* I learned some information that might be useful to you.
Medea: What is it?
DIO: Are you familiar with a older gentleman named, "Joseph Joestar?"
Medea: ............ *Became melancholy* Sort of... I've only known him as a war veteran and real estate agent... and the man that Jason is envious of.
DIO: Joseph isn't just a ordinary war veteran...he's also a Stand user, possessing a vine-like Stand called [Hermit Purple].
Medea: *Surprised* Really?
DIO: His Stand is the same as my [Passion] in terms of psychic abilities due to being related to me and Jonathan, and he could easily use it to seek out my hiding spot.
Medea: I... never would've expected to hear that... But, what am I supposed to do with this information?
DIO: Isn't it obvious? Being sought out by the Joestars is the LAST thing that I want, not to mention that he was the source of your's and Jason's doomed romance... *Smirks* I think the best way to deal with him is to HURT him.
Medea: *Horrified* WHAT!? NO! Even if Joseph is hunting for you, he doesn't deserve to get hurt! I mean that dude prevented the Pillar Men from destroying humanity, he's a hero!
DIO: *Places his hands on her shoulders* Maybe so, and I respect that... But even the most respected heroes can have a dark side~
Medea: *Confused* ....A dark side? What do you mean by that?
DIO: *Leans into her ear* In 1982, there was a young woman from a little Japanese town of Morioh...... Passionate. Beautiful. Firm. Caring. Intelligent. So intelligent that she had no problems getting into university. But during her time there, she came across a US foreigner who is quiet attractive despite his advanced age, immediately falling head over heels over the elderly stranger and wanted his number. 
Medea: *Eyes slowly widening* ..... 
DIO: The problem is that he's already married with a wife waiting for him in New York City, surely this kind of relationship can't come to fruition, right?...Sadly, it turns out that it was his whole reason of coming to Japan: to find a beautiful woman to date. He immediately accepted her request and began privately seeing each other, growing more intimate in a short period of time until eventually... she sired a child with him in secret.
Medea: *Shocked, realizing who he's talking about* !?!?!....
DIO: *Smirks* Do you get it now? The unfaithful husband in question is everyone's favorite war hero and Jason's object of envy; Joseph Joestar... And no one, not even his friends and family, are none the wiser...
Medea: ..........*Sharply inhaling and exhaling as she began to grit her teeth*
DIO: *Steps back*
Medea: *Seething in rage* That... is what Jason ruined my life for? So he can pine after the wealth of a cheating bastard who betrayed his own marriage?
DIO: He drove your love away just as how he drove his away, and he wants to finish where his grandfather left off by ending my reign... Now you understand how much of a threat he is to us?
Medea: Y-yes, but... what would hurting him solve?
DIO: It would send a message to his family and allies. They'll realize that I have grown stronger since Jonathan's time and that they're no match for me, DIO. With him out of the way, we'll be invincible since we'll have no enemies who want to stop us, and you will be free from the pain he caused you and your lover.
Medea: Would that... really work?
DIO: Of course.
Medea: *Sighs* .....*Looks up to him vengfully* I understand, my Lord.
DIO: *Evil chuckle, he begins to walk away* It's too early to act now though, but I'll call you when the time is right...
Medea: *Bows to him* Yes, my Lord.... and thank you, for letting me know about this...
DIO: *Smug, knowing full well that Medea is like putty in his hands*
Medea: ................ *Walks back inside the game room, sighing* ....... Alright, Trent. I'm back.
*HOME RUN!*
T. D'Arby: *Caught* O3O'''''
Medea: ????.....Eh? *Goes over to him* What's going on?
T. D'Arby: Nothing, it's an error.
Medea: *Looks at the screen and sees that the Red Dragons won, becoming more pissed* ....What the hell!?
T. D'Arby: *Sweating* It wasn't me, it was Kenny G!
Kenny G: *From his hiding spot* Don't pin this on me, you're the Red Dragons, not the Gray Cats!
T. D'Arby: O_O'''''
Medea: *Even more furious and jumps him* D'ARBYYYYYYY!
T. D'Arby: *Gets beaten up* AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
- Medea learns about Joseph's dark secret from DIO, loosely inspired by Yandere Simulator
(He was right about Joseph of course, but he's just using it for his own ends)
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softlyfiercely · 2 years
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Yesterday I spent 12 hours in transit and encountered two uniquely obnoxious religious nut jobs, both of whom, if I wrote them as a side character in a novel, would come off as over the top, stereotypical and too heavy handed.
But I assure you. They are real.
LADY ONE: a woman a bit older than me, with PRO LIFE BRANDED LUGGAGE (visit this website if you haven’t taken enough psychic damage today: https://col1972.com) who struck up a conversation with two much older women sitting nearby her at the gate. When a toddler started scream crying, Miss Pro Life Luggage stated that she believed parents simply should not bring children on planes because it is “inconvenient” to other travelers to have to hear their crying, and “if you’re a parent, just drive”
I didn’t say anything to her because why engage with someone so lacking in self awareness but I certainly took note of her absolute hypocrisy to mock later. I also got a photo of her pro life luggage because that’s just kind of a hilarious concept to me
LADY TWO: I arrived at my hotel at around 8:30pm on a Friday and the sun had already set. I waited in line to check in, because the dude in front of me was having some kind of Situation.
But as soon as he left, an older Orthodox Jewish woman stormed up to the counter in front of me and started getting snippy with the young Black woman at the counter demanding that they do something to arrange some kind of something re: the stairs for the family (Orthodox Jews do not “use electricity” between sundown Friday and sundown Saturday, though many of the folks I’ve known were willing to ride elevators if someone else pushed the button.) she had a husband and three kids, all dressed frum, hanging out in the lobby looking miserable.
Front desk woman: I already asked my manager about that the last time you came by, and he said we can’t do that. You can wait here to speak with him.
Obnoxious lady: this is religious discrimination! Do you want it in the papers that your hotel is limiting the religious freedom of Orthodox Jews!?
Front desk woman: I radioed to my manager, he told me no, he’s coming down now to talk to you.
Obnoxious lady: you need to [do whatever she was demanding, something to do with their luggage and the stairs]
Front desk woman: all I can do is tell you what my manager said -
Obnoxious lady: you know who else claimed to just be following orders? The Nazis! You are being like a Nazi against us Jewish people -
At this point I stepped in and loudly said “hey, no, whoah- excuse me; I’m also Jewish and that’s just completely uncalled for”
Obnoxious Lady then started yelling at me, demanding that I tell her how I was Jewish/where I was from and also telling me to mind my own business and stay out of it
At which point I just went “can I please check in to my room” and stepped between obnoxious lady and the front desk woman, who seemed pretty shaken…she checked me in, and then the manager arrived to be yelled at by the lady while her very glum looking family watched
The moral of the story is, whatever your flavor of religious nutjobbery is, if you express it around me I will tell all my tumblr followers how stupid you looked. 🤷
And don’t buy pro life luggage.
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justmanic03 · 22 days
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Amethyst - Chapter Thirty-Five
"Look at this baby! I reckon I could identify all sorts of weird Opaquia Pokemon with this!" Buzz marvelled at the item in his hand.
Jordan rolled his eyes. "Dad, it's just a magnifying glass. You can get them for like 100 Pokedollars at Pollux."
"Maybe you could instead use it to see if Danny has a brain in there?" Lisa suggested, earning a yell of protest from a disgruntled Danny.
"It makes me feel like a REAL detective! I could get used to this," Buzz continued.
"Well best not to get used to it, Buzz, you've still got a gym to take care of." Mack replied.
"Yeah but I'm getting old now, I don't really want to be gym leader forever. I've been considering retiring to become a Private Detective full time."
"Hey guys!" I interjected as I approached the group after departing the flying taxi.
"Champion Y/N! It truly is an honour!" Mackenzie greeted, as he proceeded to bow in front of me.
"Don't be so obnoxious, Mack." Lisa chastised, before walking closer to me. "But seriously, dude, well done to you. Now then, we have work to do."
I looked up into the dark Opaquian sky. A very large white building towered over us. It reminded me of a modern Russian palace, with several towers built around it as well as a giant brick wall lined with spikes, warning off intruders.
"So this is where Flossi hides out?" Jordan asked.
"Yes. Now come on! We've no time to lose, Slowbros and Slowsisters!" Danny clapped his hands together in readiness.
"Hang on, I won't be coming with you." Jordan replied. We all looked at him.
"You can't seriously bail on us!" Lisa protested. "We need all the help we can get against this mechanical harp lunatic and her monsters!"
"But I'm a poison type." Jordan explained. "I'd be useless against Flossi."
"Yeah, you got a point there," Mackenzie responded. "Everyone, I hope your teams are loaded up with a bunch of psychic counters."
"Yeah we know, we weren't born yesterday." Lisa scolded.
"Y'know, I'm not too familiar on the history of Taldourse since I've only been here a few years, but I always thought Flossi was hot," Danny blurted, however, he instantly regretted his words as the group fell silent and he was met with a series of glares.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Lisa snapped, earning a giggle from Mackenzie.
"Okay, we need a plan." I instructed, catching everyone's attention.
Buzz spoke up, "Flossi is sharp. She'll probably detect our presence anytime now. And when she does, she'll send out some strong units to attack. We need to be ready. So I suggest if any of you need to change up your parties, do it now."
I decided to swap in the Umbreon I had previously caught from Opaquia, along with a Heracross and Sylveon. I decided to keep Lily, Stalagus and Zelda in my party as they were my strongest units. "Right." I spoke up, catching everyone's attention. "I want to check everyone's parties, starting with Lisa."
Lisa grabbed her Pokeballs, and spoke up. "I've got Chandelure, Gothitelle, Altaria, Venusaur, Beartic, and of course, my trusty Gryffinblud from the Professor."
I nodded in approval, before turning to my other ghost-obsessed rival. "Mackenzie?"
"I've got Hydroxyl, Gengar, Ferrothorn, Garchomp, Sableye, Togekiss and a shiny Umbreon." He grubbed whilst listing his final Pokemon.
Lisa scoffed in response. "Why do you always have to brag about getting rare and shiny stuff?" She asked.
"Because I'm proud of them!" Mackenzie announced, folding his arms with a smug expression on his face.
Lisa scoffed once again and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, nerd."
"Danny!" I interjected.
"Yes, Chump? I-I mean Champ?" He sniggered.
"Your team?" I clicked my finger authoritatively.
"Oh yeah! I got Pikachu, my Jolteon Zana, Coalossal, Snorlax, and Hitmonchan." Danny listed.
"An electric based team?! I like your style the best, Danny." Buzz grinned from ear to ear.
"Why thank you, Mr Detective Buzz Lightyear!" Danny responded as his chest swelled with pride.
"Yeah, thank you guys so much for not including any spiders on your teams," Mack replied.
"I'm way more scared of that Epsilon than I ever have been of any spider Pokemon," I said, a shiver running down my spine.
"Uhhh... guys?" Jordan spoke up, causing us all to turn silent. Jordan was frozen stiff, his wide eyes staring at something to the left near a large pipe. Upon following his eyes, I realised the pipe was moving, seemingly by itself.
A very large claw in the shape of a foot appeared... and then another soon followed, and before any of us could blink, we were surrounded by monsters that towered over us, with nowhere to turn and escape.
"W-what do we do?" Mackenzie stammered as he trembled violently upon noticing that there were a few spider Pokemon amongst the attackers.
"Throw out your Pokeballs!" I instructed. The squad all proceeded to throw out their Pokeballs.
Go! Lily!
Lily managed to cut a Golisopod's HP in half, and it proceeded to disappear via its emergency exit. A very large-looking Haxorus grumbled with rage as it stepped closer to us.
Lily used Titanium Glade!
Mackenzie's Hydroxyl used Surf!
Although Mackenzie's powerful water move did manage to sweep away several of our opponents, Lisa cried out as it caused her Chandelure to faint. "Mack, what did I tell you about using moves that attacked the team?!" She screeched.
For the first time ever, I heard Mackenzie yell straight back at her sarcastically, "Well I'm sorry I'm unable to think with clear logic whilst im surrounded by a bunch of genetically modified Pokemon!"
"Guys! Stop it! We're all supposed to be on the same side here!" Buzz yelled.
"I should've taken my leave when I had the chance," Jordan mumbled, as his Toxapex was one-shotted by a Malamar.
"SLOWPOKE!" Danny yelled as his Pikachu managed to one-shot a Porygon.
"Keep at it, guys, we've easily halved the number of them already!" I encouraged.
Lily was knocked down by a furious Moltres. "I should've known Flossi's army would be full of legendaries." Still, I did not give up, and sent out Zelda to extinguish its fire.
Thirty monsters soon turned to a dozen, then half a dozen, until all the Pokemon had fainted.
"Good work guys!" I praised, as the victorious team all clenched their fists victoriously.
"It was no challenge to me." Danny stated smugly.
"Well done guys. This is where mine and Jordan's work ends." Buzz spoke up.
Jordan nodded, joining up alongside his dad. "You guys are seriously strong. You could literally be the next Elite Four. Especially you, Champion Y/N."
"Thanks bro," I smiled. "As for the rest of us, we should make our way up into the White Tower via that pipe the Pokemon just came out of."
"I really hope you're joking about that!" Lisa protested. "Imagine how much dirt and bacteria are in there! I don't want to get my clothes and hair dirty!"
"Haha, sounds like you're scared!" Danny mocked, earning an elbow in the stomach from Lisa.
"Lisa's right, Y/N. Have you gone completely MAD?! That pipe is like a breeding hub for spiders!"
"Well, do any of you guys have any better ideas?" I asked. Naturally, the other three fell silent. I clicked my tongue in frustration. "Alright, that's settled then." I walked up to the pipe, and peered up it, although I could see nothing other than darkness. "If we can climb up here, we'll at least gain access to the grounds."
I felt the other three glaring at me as if I had gone mad as I carefully lifted my leg up to the pipe, grappling onto the screw tops connecting the spout to the rest of the upper pipe.
"The Champion has officially lost his/her mind," I heard Mack mumble from behind me.
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Psychfacts & commentary 1x01
The "they spelled it wrong on mine" bloodthirsty tattoo was bc the makeup department accidentally spelled the car-breaker one's tattoo bloodthristy, which is where shawn's "they spelled it wrong on mine" line came from.
"sweet" was an improv.
"But everything funny you hear is what I wrote" (they don't have captions so I can't hear as well & the voices all sound kind of swimmy sometimes, esp with other noises or through a screen, yay deaf+adhd, so I can't tell who is talking.)
Improvises just to entertain the ppl behind the camera XD
Ooh the interview was the audition scene for omundson (& the director said "nah" to half the stuff he liked abt it XD)
Steve franks: writer, director, producer, creator, music, main cast member, yes he plays both lassie & lucinda
I agree, hearing the background. Chris says "psych" too, love that.
That stubble is... James Roday Rodriguez was very intent on having stubble, the network was very intent on Not. & won that battle!
"He has this thing where he gets the makeup lady to stand on set in view of everybody & pretend to shave him, so it's kind of like air shaving" (it's just like wrestling & you realize the razor is 6-8" away from his face)
Sage Brock is great & he was supposed to only be here for this ep or this scene, but when he raised his hand, they said that's the guy & kept him on
Dang it was 3c here!? That's cold!
One of the prisoners should also raise his hand XD
the foot wiggle, which JRr came up with that day! Huh! He came up w a physical thing for every psychic thing!
Oh yeah, look look look, editing is an art!
may 3 the wedding is dule hill's bday XD
MY MAN RAISED HIS HAND FOR 4 MINUTES?
That's acting! Soft cuddly person playing an angry dude? Love it
magic finger was an improv XD. I love how all the good stuff was written, but then the stuff in between is there too.
Pouring rain? If you listen very closely you can hear the rain on the tarp.
Nobody ever mentions she is pregnant & they actually added a line (bc she was pregnant during the audition tape) but then they cut it out because ss "you're.........." kv 'In charge.' was honestly less funny than just not acknowledging it & I think it's great too, people get preggo somtimes. Script was made, & they just decided, they don't need to acknowledge the pregnancy.
"Her improv was being pregnant"
The windowsill?
He decided to eat XD "nobody was bothered by it but me!"
He ate but they just cut around it
Gus just has his bible on the jurassic temperature windowsill XD, occasionally look over & read a psalm.
"But you're not getting your coat." (improv)
The circle XD. Always ended up adding something fantastic
Forensics guys. Gus? Why do you like that? (Lenny face)
They shoot 40% of their beach stuff in whiterock BC.
This whole oceanfront drive, nice, but why so many fish/chip places.
Wow you can see their breath!
Watch the palm trees, you'll see them everywhere bc they are not real. Only had six.
I like how most of the characters share a name with people irl. Lassiter is from a friend of Franks'.
Heck yeah! Stage Swing sets!
He can Never be caught as a psychic. The only way they'll know is if I tell them.
When he pulls him aside, that wasn't written but it was exactly what they needed & saw in their visions. This is a good pilot.
Canada <3
Oh the mccallum girl was trying to be Lucinda but they liked her so they made her katarina too! Steve franks: bring her back bring her back, put her in another episode, she's great we like her (but by the end of it shawn sends her dad to prison) "couples have tough times, we can make this work, your dad WAS guilty it's ok!"
"At a halloween party dressed as a cat"
Whoever drew that sketch <3
This scene was in the pitch
My man is six foot eight! The tallest person I've ever met was a 6'7" woman (altho she did have a tie with another guy I ignore that fact). Teeny drama room, in a couch 4 feet away & this guy is on his feet acting out his mind, what he thought through.
Twin peaks fans <3
Dulé in b/w takes *running to the coats off frame*
The seatbelt was good, they made it WORK.
The sound design <3 <3 <3 as a deaf musician... yeah
"like shawn is in there baking a cake or someting, & he's just making coffee. Though making a cake is smth he;d be doing"
Oof filming at 2 in the morning on thanksgiving.
Blocking <3
Why would shawn be there in the middle of the night? He apparently hooked up with Kat mccallum, spent time in her room, & then went to gus at 4am.
...??? They chose their actors from the pot they received, & then... got JRr & DH together at JRr's house the weekend before filming???
WHERE'S THE PINEAPPLE
Dule, hands on the dashboard while the cop is there in the car wasn't script, "that's just what you do"
Henry doing his thing, henry style. He was laughing at the end but they were able to cut it!
Lunson lake?
Matt <3
the fog XD
sports illustrated binoculars
"Just Auburn?"
Yes you so need to punctuate scenes!
I like how they have sunglasses.
Named after my sister in law & brother in law <3
The same palm tree
Billy Camp! Hay fever! Line cook! Workin the grill! Hold the chicken higher! Higher!
(practicing the surprised face)
There is a 2h version of the pilot? Gimme!
Doolittle?
Swat team on the funny little comedy
"Oh they weren't real?"
"the dog did kind of look vicious cause it kept going for james' face"
'idk who is in charge of dog face blood. Makeup?' (it was like he dipped his head in a bucket of blood)
Dog runs right into the crime scene
Suddenly shock all the children watching
Pardon me. Ladies. Gentlemen. *runs out screaming*
JRr puts his head down. *an eighth of a second later everyone was laughing*
His screams woul turn into michael jackson songs XD
"this police station is in what like to call the Haunted Insane Asylum" Actually a lot of prison scenes are filmed in dementia wards & mental hospitals bc they have similar layout, even occasionally in schools. Institutional buildings, yk? (it is what inspired scary sherry)
Annie built her own ouija board & they went to the basement in the underbelly & no lihts in the wing?
heck yeah pansies
strawberry festival? No cinnamon! They have arguments that last 20 years!
I do give up, all the time, but only when the moment is right
Aw, I love family. He doesn't believe in santa...??? & tell children that???? whwat???? I mean I grew up without santa. The way the commenters say "He doesn't believe in lying, & since he doesn't believe in santa claus (i don't know why) he says that" & they treat him like he's crazy for not believing in santa.
The head turn XD
Fake sky & a fake palm tree & a fake roof, but a real motorcycle. (I can't believe I watched so much of the show without knowing shawn had a motorbike. It was more important in the first season)
Can't front in front of your father
Ok so in s8 he says he paid insurance when he bought his bike eight years ago, but we all thought he had his bike forever, like in the psych teen shorts where he fails the exam & says he'll just drive a motorcycle (you still need to be licensed, in fact, a different licence) but it is a different bike, or at least that is how it looks.
The "I'm not ounting the one in your pocket" was added on set bc henry put on a hat when he left the house & is not wearing it in the restaurant. Yes, all the bloggers WOULD be mad. I'm blogging right now! "It's for the bloggers!" You're so right besties.
The hat scene was not supposed to be seen ,it was just backstory, but they added it to the script & I am happy for that.
Yes, everyone DID love the flashback, it IS fortunate! Thank you!
I can't hear what they are saying! Weasle Sloan & Jackie Dungeoness?
Shawn's apartment is directly below the barbeque place (at least the set)
You brought your newbrn 9w old, to vancouver! Your kid has canadian citizenship? Good for you bro XD
Oh all that graffitti? Yeah that's vancouver.
Yeah it IS so cold.
Kelly Catering, warm turkey cranberry stuffing sandwiches in the freezing cold. Warm thanksgiving dinner on wheat bread.
This is the action aspect of our show *shawn running ditzily, stealing a bag*
(one whose name I forget bc they don't have it in captions): Dule really really attacked james, absolutely linebackered him. Is linebackered a word?
Just... sixty feet away
This man plays The Heavy in Canada???
How psychouts started: they get stuck in the car together, they always just start singing songs, but um. They would sing about what they did the night before to a michael jackson song. Right they would be in the car with their mics on & we'd be fifty yards away under a tarp in the rain & they probably forgot that we could hear them & they'd start chatting & they'd start harmonizing with each other. It's very sweet. Romantic.
XD wanted to buy a 48c jacket but his price threshhold was too low. My man threatened him with a hanger
Jumps into the car thru the window. Stunt guys!
friends selling each other out, as they do
All eight dollars were my money. I;ve heard it IS illegal to have money shown fully onscreen. "If it is then it's fake money I happen ot have"
My man was accidentally sitting on the folder
that's a real gun & she's firing real rounds /j
JRr *not wearing ear gear* (& never flinched)
They went back & re-edited it for her dad who was a gun nut
this guy CAN do these htings, he's just a goof. He had to fight the network to get that.
My man's a good shot.
*looking to the side* marketing moments
Two page episode wrapups flawlessly? Incredible.
We see bodies but not murder
poor stunt actor hitting his head on the table, weather below 0, looks more & more painful every time, & then the table BROKE
SF, taking really dramatic moment & mixing it with comedy
Shawn knows exactly where to go "put on the fan & flush" if you're going to throw up in the murderer's house
SF I've always wanted someone to call the cops on themselves
spet the morning getting the snow off the grass
Tim likes any time you allow him to pull his gun or manhandle a suspect
Holding him up. Like a two year old not wanting to go into his car seat.
Pregnant, 2am, smoking & drinking /j, bungee jumping /j
Hooray editing
"I wish I knew" lassie will never believe him
Ah the palm scenes
Oh no I'd love to see this with the focus group? "Oh god! My dad! I may be out of a job & in jail"
Rest your teamug on your tummy
Does vick believe him? You never sort of know
She's already hiring him again!
Was the scene with dad in the og script?
His dad is thinking about accepting him. He has the newspaper.
The shows are so often about the cool car. night rider? kit? super cool. hill street blues. supernatural. Magnum PI. This one has the blueberry.
PSYCH NOT SIKE FUCKING THANK YOU
Fizadribble? SF: Making up drug names is impossible because no matter what name you make up, it actually exists as a drug & is registered to somebody. (antidepressants or tolkein)
Yayyyyyy
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sarah-dipitous · 6 months
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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 310
Nightmare Logic/Demons of the Punjab
“Nightmare Logic”
Plot Description: when Maggie disappears on her first solo case, the hunters confront their nightmares in a spooky place
I swear if we get Sam’s fear of clowns back I will flip out.
Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: you couldn’t convince me to a cemetery at night. Sorry to disappoint
Make all the fun you want, Dean, but I personally like this more collectivist hunter community Sam’s running. Hunters were barely tethered together loners for too long. Sure, you’d avenge each other, but now there’s way more of a shot at saving each other
Oh Bobby and Mary are already at this house…interesting
Everyone here is so suspicious, the daughter, the nurse, even the groundskeeper…but that last one is more because he looks like he’s dressed for a different century
I don’t like new Bobby as much as I liked old Bobby
Mary saying Sam was born to lead is so interesting. Azazel said the same thing way back when iirc. Sam was his favorite of the kids with psychic powers
It’s gotta be super weird to listen to your resurrected mother talk about potentially dating an au version of your surrogate father. My condolences, Sammy
I’m not saying Bobby needed Dean’s permission to go off alone but he should have SAID something about doing so
Ok the daughter is a little less sus now. I don’t think she knows what’s happening in this house. I…..wait, that vampire wasn’t real??
Bobby continuously going off alone is going to be a PROBLEM
Dean, you are one to talk about letting go of the past…and by that I mean, you’re not. It’s nice that you’re giving this great advice, but maybe also take your own advice??
I swear if a…not a clown, just the same vampire. But hey!! Sam found Maggie! And she’s alive!
Au Bobby had a kid?? (Makes sense with Mary and Sam’s convo about this universe’s Bobby’s life)
Ok but … how did WHATEVER is going on manifest into a person who only exists in a different universe?
Omg. Dean, you’ve been doing this basically since you were four, I’ve watched thirteen seasons of you doing this, and you STILL can’t find a way to be subtle about sending people away for their safety? You just asked the grown ass daughter who not to long ago told you her tragic backstory to make you a sandwich so you could confront her father’s nurse?
Oh the nurse is a djinn and that djinn thinks Dean is still Michael. Play along, my dude
Dumbass…though, this djinn is very talkative
K but why did the djinn act that way when he touched Dean? Why did he seem so scared? Is Michael still partly there or something?
The idea that Michael has a whole bunch of hunter traps set up around the country is interesting
They allowed a father and son to fight in the same platoon in the angel war?
Omg are Mary and Bobby really about to start dating?? Are they really going on a few weeks vacation to a secluded cabin while Bobby recuperates? If there isn’t one scene between the boys about how weird this is, I’m calling the cw myself and making them shoot one for me
Man, I miss Garth…
Ok I don’t need it this episode but I need that scene this season
(Going from how Jensen sounds in season 14 to hearing the show preview Netflix has from the first episode is so jarring)
“Demons of the Punjab”
Plot Description: the Doctor and friends arrive in the Punjab, India in 1947, as a country is split apart
(I will never make fun of the Doctor’s love of the modern day UK if we can stop making the first female Doctor dip into the histories of countries England colonized.)
Oh AND we’re going to be crossing paths with Yaz’s grandparents in the past??
Scenery is beautiful though
This is a horrifically prescient episode to be watching now…
It’s both the day before Yaz’s grandparents wedding and the day of the Partition, and there are some kind of demon like aliens…and they’ve already killed one Hindu holy man
I don’t like that this massive loss of life that took place because of humans is going to potentially be attributed to aliens that have been labeled the most dangerous assassins in the universe. And then, if it’s not, it’s like Pompeii and the Doctor just has to let it happen. What a shitty premise
They really like emphasizing the relationships between the companions and deepening those while the Doctor just states that she cares about them. It’s infuriating. Why do they do this to her?
The assassins have turned into witnesses who honor those who die alone, and the guy who Yaz’s grandmother was supposed to marry is about to die alone, as the former assassins have traveled here to witness
Dude…this guy sucks. I’m not going to pretend that I know practically anything about this period of India’s history, but to try to keep your brother from marrying the love of his life because of a difference in religion and (and I’m going to have to look it up later) the events that occurred to cause the Partition
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obsidiancreates · 4 months
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Why Bounce Around To The Same Damn Song (Part 1)
(Another Henry Revealed As Asshole fic but Real Psychic Shawn flavored this time)
“Whoa, dude, stop here.”
“What?! Shawn, the Arby’s closes in like, fifteen minutes!”
“What? Since when does Arby’s close in the middle of the day?”
“I don’t know!”
“Just- pull over, man. I’m getting a vibe.”
Gus pulls The Blueberry over, parking in front of a set of small, run-down shops under apartment buildings. He peers around Shawn’s head and reads the sign. Miss Ivana’s Nirvana. “A psychic shop?”
“Yeah.” Shawn tries to look through the curtains of the window. “I feel like I should go in there, man.”
“You’re already psychic, why would you need a reading?”
“I’m not… sure.” Shawn tilts his head, squinting. He’s still not great with figuring out what the feelings-only parts of his abilities are. They’re a lot more complicated than picking out details in a shaky vision, or catching hidden meanings in words, or even catching snippets of another person’s thoughts- which he’s also not great at, yet, but he’s good enough to know Jules is just being nice when she says Buzz’s wife’s homemade tapioca is good. He didn’t know someone could gag so intensely in their mind without it showing on their face.
The feelings-only are different. It’s like when his ADHD acts up and makes him forget why he entered a room, or where he put something he was just holding, or the thing Gus told him was really important to remember before talking to someone he probably shouldn’t be talking to. He knows something is just there, just out of reach of his comprehension, and it’s almost like a physical, tangible blockage that he could potentially push away but he just can’t quite get the right footing.
“Maybe she’s a fraud who needs exposing? You still can’t talk to ghosts, right?”
“Still not even sure if they exist, Gus. All those websites you send me say different things. Plus, I think if spirits really existed and could demand revenge on their behalf there’d be a lot less white people in the world.”
Gus nods. “Alright, but make it fast, or I’m leaving you here.”
“Fast. Got it.”
Shawn steps out of the car and opens the shop door. It’s dimly lit, cluttered, and there’s a section with big velvet curtains and a table covered in classic fortune-telling props. The air smells like incense and sage, making him cough a little.
“Welcome to my Nirvana,” a young blond woman says in a thick non-specific Eastern European accent, sweeping otherwise soundlessly out from behind a shelf cluttered with crystals. “You are looking for something.”
“Yeah. Your real accent.” Shawn angles his head at her with a disappointed look. 
She straightens up, her incredibly numerous amounts of jewelry clanking together like she’s a windchime. “How’d you do that?”
He brings a hand up to his head. “I’m a psychic detective. You can take your pick on which of those told me the accent was fake.”
It was the psychic part.
“So… what? Are you scoping out the competition?” She crosses her arms. “Because I am not packing up shop. This is the first time I’ve made a steady living from this, you know.”
“Look, honestly I don’t know what I’m doing here either. I got a psychic vibe while driving by and now my buddy is about to abandon me so he can go get at least five meat-piled sandwiches for half off, and I can’t even blame him!” Shawn looks around. “It’s not like I don’t have crystals like these, or tried this uh… burning stuff.”
“Incense.” Ivana raises an eyebrow. “What, are you new to being psychic?”
“No! … Maybe. Are you?”
“I’ve had the gift as long as I can remember.” She sits down at the table. “Now are you gonna buy anything, or are you just going to stand there making my shop smell like Axe deodorant?”
“For your information, it’s Axe body spray. And you call yourself psychic.” He scoffs. But that twists something in his gut, his voicing doubt. It feels… bad. 
“You’re the one using his hand to convince me you can hear the spirits.” 
“So there are spirits.”
“Duh? Did you come in here just to learn how to fake it better?”
“Do you think I’m faking?”
“Maybe.”
“No you don’t.”
“If I think you’re real then you should know I am too.”
“... Fair.” Shawn looks out the door to see Gus literally pulling away. “Wh- Gus!”
“I saw that coming.”
“And you didn’t warn me, wh- I was looking forward to those sandwiches! Man… so much for helping a fellow psychic out.”
“You’re like, ten years older than me. You should’ve been able to see it.”
“Okay first of all, there’s no way I’m ten years older than you. Second of all, I… am working on the future-seeing thing, still.”
Ivana leans forward, resting her elbows heavily on her table. “You have a very bright presence, for being so annoying and childish.”
“Thank you. It’s because my hair is a blessing.”
“No… it’s because you carry the gratitude of many.” Her eyes trail over Shawn, unfocused and glassy. “Why’re you here?”
Shawn steps back. That look is really unnerving. He hopes he doesn’t look like that when he’s analyzing people. “Because my partner just drove off without me, and I don’t want to walk anywhere.”
Ivana rolls her eyes. “Come here. I’m going to do a tarot reading for you.”
“Uhhh, no. No, I don’t do that stuff.”
“You’re a psychic who doesn’t do tarot?”
“No, I do not! Or crystal balls, unless I think the client will pay extra for that. Then I have five.”
“Sit down and pick a card.” She says it so forcefully that Shawn just obeys- because a psychic pull told him too, and definitely not because he was intimidated by for a second. Not at all. He goes to pick one- and finds himself picking three, leaving them face-down, knowing how this is meant to go even though he’s never done this before.
She flips the one on Shawn’s left over first. “Do you know the meanings?”
Shawn actually thinks he does. He doesn’t want to. “Uh, no.”
“So that’s why you’re here. You’re denying something that the spirits wish you weren’t. This is The Emperor, reversed. Someone in authority, abusing that authority.”
“No, I don’t think so. The Chief is actually very lenient with us.” He knows it’s not talking about The Chief. Or Lassie. Or even the Psych office landlord who keeps trying to raise their rent before Shawn reminds him that more than half his properties aren’t up to code and Shawn can prove it if he has to.
“This card is showing us something from the past, something already done. What was. The next to are what to do, and what to avoid.” Ivana flips over the middle card. “The Three of Cups.”
“That one’s not so bad.” He sees images of him and Gus getting tacos together, him bringing Jules a smoothie, him breaking into Lassie’s house to restock the man’s peanut butter because he always forgets to and Shawn wants a reliable store of PB in every house he regularly infiltrates, dammit. “It’s uh, quality time, right? With people I care about.”
It doesn’t escape his notice that someone is missing from those visions.
“Now I’m starting to believe you.” Ivana flips the last one over. “The Six of Swords, reversed.”
Shawn laughs, even as something twists in his gut and squeezes in his chest. “That one’s a mistake.”
“It’s advice. You’re being warned not to leave something big in your life unresolved.”
“Yeah, I got that. But uh, it’d sort of ruin… everything, so I think I’m going to leave now.” He gets up. “And I’m-I’m sure yours and the… spirits, intentions are good, but there’s no way in hell I’m following that advice.”
Ivana looks at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“For once, yes.” Shawn turns, sticking his hands in his pockets and walking to the door. He freezes just before opening it, sucking in a sharp breath as his hands fly to his head.
Gus is ten years old, listening to Shawn complain about something Henry did. Gus is nodding, listening, but Shawn hears him think ‘There’s no way it’s that bad.’
Mrs. Guster stands in the doorway, talking to Henry, while five-year-old Shawn and Gus play in the living room. “Now I’ve heard around town about your… unusual way of raising your son, and I want your word right now that you’ll leave mine out of that sort of thing, because if my Burton comes home and tells me that you did anything he says Shawn talks about, I won’t be bringing him around here again.”
More recent, a case- their thirteen year high school reunion. Gus looks at Shawn and says “That’s easy for you to say, Shawn. No-one had any expectations you would amount to greatness.”
Shawn’s whole body feels tingly, and he has to shake himself to get feeling back into his limbs. Ivana is standing next to him, wide-eyed. “What was that?”
“Um.” Shawn looks down at his hands to make sure he’s here, really here. “I don’t-”
“Was that a vision? I’ve never had one that strong.”
“Really? I get those all the time.”
“You’re lying.”
“Yeah, a little.” Shawn shakes himself again. “Not totally.”
“I told you, you’re being warned. Something is blocking you from contacting the spirits who want to speak to you, I can feel it. It’s something emotional, and they’re begging you to resolve it.”
“I thought you said you don’t get strong visions.”
“I’m better at mind-reading and tarot, it’s true. But-” She moves to touch him, and Shawn pulls away. “But I can feel a very strong presence around you while standing this close. Hovering, worrying, desperate.”
“Great. That’s-that’s exactly what I want. Another looming presence in my life pushing me to do stuff.” Shawn huffs. “Awfully hypocritical of them. Can you just, tell me how to avoid that kind of thing happening to me again?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? You’re clearly a different kind of psychic than I am.”
“What, are we dogs? There’s different breeds?”
“It’s time to leave my shop.”
She shoves him out the door, literally, just as Gus pulls back up. Shawn takes a moment to compose himself, looking anywhere but The Blueberry, before getting in- or trying to.
“Dude, you didn’t leave any room for me to sit down.”
“There’s room right there.”
“I’m not some twig anymore, man, I can’t fit in a seat literally piled with sandwiches.”
“You’re the one who decided to abandon me for a talk with a fraud.”
“She’s not a fraud, Gus.” Shawn tosses all the sandwiches into the backseat, despite Gus’s whine of protest. “She’s the real deal.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I could feel it, which was super freaky. At one point I just mentioned she might be a fraud and it felt like that time I ate those expired mini-tacos from your freezer.”
“Eugh!”
“Point is… apparently I was drawn in there because spirits are real, and… I can’t talk to them. Yet.”
“So… what? They lead you somewhere you could get advice?”
“Sort of. She can’t talk directly either, but she… gave me a tarot reading.”
“I told you we needed to invest in a set.”
“Not until we find one with either all of the Thundercats on each card, or themed around Tears for Fears songs.”
“You can commission custom sets from local artists, Shawn.”
“Really? … Sounds expensive.”
“What’d your reading say, Shawn?”
“Right. That.” Shawn shifts in his seat as Gus pulls away. “I uh… so, weird part first, knew what the cards meant just by looking at them.”
“Which makes sense since you’re psychic.”
“Yeah, yeah. And uh… they were kinda about… my dad.”
Gus waits for Shawn to go on. Shawn licks his lips first, suddenly feeling very, very trapped.
“... Shawn?” Gus glances over, concern starting to seep into his expression. “What’d they say about your dad? … Is he dying?”
“No, no. Nothing that bad.” So, so bad. Henry just- gone. Forever. Shawn can’t even imagine it, and he doesn’t want to imagine it, for all he might fight with his dad. “But uh… Gus, how-how much do you remember, about the uh… training, I did, growing up?”
“What?”
“The cop stuff he made me do.”
“I don’t know. I know I thought it was kinda intense.”
“Yeah, but… what specifically? Do you remember?”
“Well… I remember the stuff when we were scouts, with the rocket and all that.”
“Right.”
“And him using a lot of stories about him and his partners to give us lessons.”
“Yeah.”
“And I guess I remember you talking a lot about him making you earn desserts and stuff.”
“... Yeah.” Shawn leans his head back against the headrest of the seat. “Do you remember the case at our reunion?”
“Of course I remember it, it almost ruined all my hard work!”
“Remember going through the yearbooks?”
“Shawn, I know you’re stalling by trying to make me piece everything together myself. What does this have to do with your dad?”
Shawn sighs, looking out the window and pressing the top of his tongue to the center of his top lip before saying, “You said no-one had any expectations of greatness for me growing up.”
“I did? … I did.” Gus’s concern melts into guilt. “But your dad did, didn’t he? I’m sorry, Shawn, in the moment I just totally forgot.”
“It’s alright, man, I-I didn’t say anything to correct you or anything. … But I guess I’m… trying to get a read on how much I need to tell you, to… I don’t know, unclog my psychic senses or whatever.”
“What?”
“... I’m supposed to open up about, Gus. The spirits want me to tell you, and Jules, and even Lassie about all the stuff from when I was a kid.”
“Wow. … Isn’t that kinda-”
“My personal hell? Yes, it is.” Shawn thumps his head against the window and watches the sidewalks, counting hats. “Which they know, apparently. So I don’t know why they’re asking me to do that. I’m kind of doing just fine without talking to any spirits, anyway.”
But you could be doing better. He’s not sure if the thought is some psychic intuition or just him knowing the truth, and frankly he doesn’t care. It is true. It’s probably always true. It’s a thought that, nine times out of ten, comes into his mind alongside the frowning image of an old man with a rough voice and disappointment just dripping from the words.
“Shawn, did your dad…”
He doesn’t need to be psychic to know where Gus’s train of thought is going. “No, not like that. He never hit me. At most he-he handled me a little rough while booking me for the car thing. But that’s why I don’t wanna do this, man, I just- I know everyone will make it a big thing and it’s… it’s not not a big thing, but it’s a big thing for me, you know? It’s not really anybody’s else's business.”
Even though the spirits disagree.
“... You should probably take some time to think about how you wanna do this, then.” Gus glances over again, Shawn can see it in the reflection in the window. “I know this kind of thing isn’t easy for you.”
“That’s an understatement,” Shawn says with a huffed and bitter chuckle. God, he hates this. These ugly, nasty feelings that bubble up whenever he thinks about it. He drowned in these feelings for years and it was the worst time in his life, and because he couldn’t get his head above the water he started trying to push the water itself below and now it just sits there waiting for him to stop pushing it-
He has to suck in a breath as the feeling of actual water in his lungs passes over him, and he reaches to slap Gus’s hands without looking away from the window. “Stop the car!”
“Wha-”
“I totally just got a vibe, man, I think someone drowned around here, recently!”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“You’re avoiding it.”
Shawn groans, tossing a crumpled paper ball at the trash can without looking. It goes right in. “Gus-”
“It’s been a month, Shawn. I know I said to take some time and think about how you’ll do it, but I know you and I know when you go from taking time to putting something off.”
“Gus, don’t be your coffee mug handle that broke when I picked it up.”
“Shawn, I’m serious. You basically got spiritually kidnapped into a creepy tarot reading specifically because you needed to talk about it, and now you’re not talking about it!”
“I have dinner with my dad in two days, Gus. I don’t really want to churn up all that stuff before I have to go help him prepare a fish or something again, I hate that enough.”
“So cancel.”
“Already tried- stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“I can totally read your mind right now, Gus, it’s like you’re literally shouting at me. Every time I talk about my dad now all your alarm bells go off, and that’s exactly what I don’t want!”
“Since when are you so protective of how people think of him?!”
“I don’t know! I just- I don’t want the three of you going around thinking he’s a monster or something all the time! Even if he kinda is. Man, you know I’m not good at figuring these kinds of complicated feelings out! Stop asking me to!”
“Not until we make some progress.”
“... Fine. Fine, I will… talk to everyone, as a group, here in the office, next week. Happy?”
“As I can be in the situation.”
“It’s not a situation.”
“Yes it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“I can do this all day, Shawn.”
“Well that is a complete waste of your time, and especially of mine!”
“Yeah, well, suck it.”
“You suck it!”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jules and Lassiter are cleaning up their desks when they both get a text at the same time.
Just had a major psychic feeling, guys, come by the office ASAP. Bring good snacks. <3
“Aw.” Jules smiles as she tucks her phone into her pocket. “Carlton, did you also get-”
“Yeah, I got it.” Lassiter sighs and swings his jacket on. “I’m not stopping for any snacks.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shawn is sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together resting against his lips, one leg shaking up and down and making a fast taptaptaptaptap sound against the floor as he waits. Gus sits next to him on the couch, and gives Shawn a pat on the shoulder.
“It’s going to be good for you in the long run,” Gus says for the millionth time that day.
“Man, you know I’d rather have things be good for me in the short run.”
They hear the door open, and both look up as Jules and Lassiter enter the office. Jules looks immediately concerned, while Lassiter looks more annoyed than anything.
“Shawn? What’s wrong, you look nervous. Is this is about a case?”
“Not uh, not quite.” Shawn gestures for Jules and Lassiter to sit in the armchairs set up across from the couch. They do, with Lassiter rolling his eyes as he sits. Shawn is kind of grateful for the irritation- it’s more comfortable than the way Gus and Jules are looking at him. More familiar.
“What is this about, Spencer?”
“Well, I uh…” Shawn opens his mouth to continue, but he just can’t. He just… can’t.
Gus, as always, is there to put together the missing pieces and fill in the gaps. “Shawn recently had a… metaphysical revelation,” Gus says. “He’s been dabbling in new ways to hone his abilities, and he was given the advice to unblock some parts of his mind by sharing some things.”
Shawn points at Gus to confirm it.
“What, like group therapy? This is ridiculous.”
“Believe me Lassie, I’m not happy about it either.” Shawn laughs, hollow, and his leg starts shaking faster. “But uh, every time I think about not doing this, preferably ever, I get a real kick in the ass by the spirits.” Mostly visions of people defending his dad, or his dad making all those claims about how he’s not responsible for why Shawn is the way he is, and god does the reoccuring vision of his dad claiming “A good cop trusts his gut, his instincts,” make Shawn just… mad.
“Shawn… what is this about?” Jules reaches out and puts a hand on his leg, stilling it. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Maybe. … I-I don’t…” Shawn takes a deep breath. “So it’s uh… about my dad.”
Lassiter scoffs.
“You know, with him… getting involved in cases as much as he does, and uh… Gus, I-I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. I believe in you.”
“Spit it out, Spencer, after a shift I want to go home, not hang out in a fire hazard.”
“The spirits want me to tell you guys about my dad and how he raised me,” Shawn forces out. “Apparently keeping it to myself is ‘bad for me’ or something. And I uh… I don’t really know where to begin, so just… bear with me here.”
Lassiter eyes Shawn suspiciously. “Raised you how?”
“... I guess I’ll start with us, with this.” Shawn lets out a deep breath. “Lassie, you remember when my mom did your psych eval?”
“Unfortunately.”
“She told you she has an eidetic, tonal, memory.”
“How did you kn-”
“My dad, has an eidetic visual memory. I… have both.” Shawn pulls his hands apart and puts his hands to his temples and plasters on a grin that’s probably the least convincing fake smile he’s ever given. “And he knew it, real early on, before I can even remember.”
Jules gasps softly. “Oh, Shawn, but the things we see on the job-”
“It’s not that bad,” he says quickly. “Trust me Jules, I’m fine with all that. But uh, on top of that, when I was really young my mom diagnosed me as also being hyperobservant.”
Lassiter stands up and points to Shawn. “Aha! That’s it! I knew it, I knew you had some secret-”
“Lassie, sit down, I’m also genuinely psychic.”
“Yeah, right-”
“You’re excited to have caught me but you’re also thinking about how many arrests will be overturned or reexamined if you turn me in. You went to a bar on Saturday and ran into someone you liked in highschool, but h- uh, she-” Shawn glances at Jules and squints for a second, then nods. She knows, Lassie told her, good for him. “He, was already married so you went back home and looked into getting a dog for the rest of the night.”
That wipes the triumph off Lassiter’s face, and gets his ass back in the chair.
Shawn rides the high of that for just a moment before Gus clears his throat and Shawn remembers why they’re all here. He looks back down at his knees. “So uh… yes, I have a lot going on up here is what I’m trying to say.” He gestures at his head, waving his hand in a circle around his skull. “And pretty much from birth my dad figured, hey, I’ll train the kid to be the ultimate detective. The job was everything to him, and uh… he made sure it was everything to me, too.”
“That’s a pretty heavy expectation for a kid to carry,” Jules says in sympathy. “Especially with your dad having such a high-standing reputation.”
“No kidding,” Shawn laughs the same empty laugh. “So a uh… a lot, oh my childhood, was training. Stuff like uh… like even when Gus and I would play hide-and-seek, you know? He’d turn it into a lesson about how to keep a perp from seeing or hearing me if I was sneaking up on them, or-or blindfolding me, and telling me to figure out what he was doing around me just by the sounds, stuff like that.”
“Sounds fun to me,” Lassiter says.
“It was, usually. And I did really, really want to be a cop, just like him, but it was still pretty…” Shawn claps his hands back together and purses his lips, searching for the words, the feeling. “Pretty overkill, a lot of times. I mean, come on, teaching me to-to forge stuff in case I ever went undercover? I was six. I didn’t even know that kind of thing wasn’t normal until I started going over to Gus’s house. And then I started wanting to explore more things, and… started kind of… thinking about how Gus and my lives were different…”
Shawn takes another deep breath. “Like, his parents didn’t bury his Easter eggs underground and leave broken glass and a tarp over it and expect him to dig them up on his own.”
Lassiter sits up straighter, and Jules pales. Gus lets out a soft “Oh my god.”
Shawn grips his hands together. He hates this, he hates it, he doesn’t want them look at him like this, he doesn’t want them to know about this-
“Spencer, that’s a serious allegation of mistreatment and child endangerment,” Lassiter warns.
“I’m not- this isn’t a case, Lassie. I’m not trying to get my dad in trouble, and certainly not trying to get him arrested, alright? I’m just… trying to get a few things off my chest, out into the open.” Shawn clears his throat. “So, yeah. At Gus’s house he didn’t have to do that, or-or get locked in a car trunk in the afternoon to learn how to kick out a taillight, or have to hear about kids spatter brains on driveways when he brought a comic book home.”
Jules makes a sound like she might vomit. “And he knew you’d always remember all of that, perfectly?”
“... Yeah. And it uh… didn’t make me love my whole… deal.” Shawn flicks a hand up at his head again. “He never believed in psychics, so that was fine, but the other stuff… I dunno. I guess he thought it meant I just shouldn’t have been a kid or something, but I know he still thinks of me as a kid anyway.”
“Can’t always blame him.” But Lassiter’s words are as hollow as Shawn’s previous laughs, an understanding dawning in his eyes. “So he spent your life training you to be a cop, and never let you consider anything else.”
Shawn nods. “Got upset if I even mentioned it. Ever. But he also wouldn’t let me do stuff like take karate, which is weird, because I think a cop who knows martial arts seems super dope but I guess he thought a gun would be enough.”
“Did he train you in firearms too?”
“Oh, yeah. And it turns out being psychic gives you crazy good long-distance vision, which is neat, so I got really good really fast. He always freaked out when he thought I was in danger, still does, but he wanted me to be in the middle of shootouts someday at the same time. He’d have me run away from him in the middle of the woods to teach me avoidance tactics, and then lecture me for doing the same thing because I didn’t want to kill fish with him.”
Jules and Lassiter share a look, and both lean forward at the same time.
“That wasn’t okay, Shawn. Any of it,” Jules says firmly. “And if talking about this is helping you clear something up with your powers, we’ll listen to every example you’ve got.”
Shawn leans away from them a bit, mouth parting, and looks over at Gus. 
Gus is crying. Not in the full-face-scrunch whistling tea kettle way he usually does. Just quiet, horrified tears over all the things he just missed during their shared childhood.
“Hey, stop that.” Shawn shakes Gus by the shoulder. “Don’t you dare feel guilty, Gus.”
“I can’t help it,” Gus sniffles. Jules reaches behind her for Gus’s desk and passes some tissues over. “Thank you.”
“I’m not- I’m not looking for guilt or pity.” Shawn looks each one of them in the eyes. “I’m not looking for anything, just for the spirits to leave me alone about this, okay?”
“We understand,” Jules assures. “Right, Carlton?”
“Right.” Lassiter is looking at Shawn in a way Shawn isn’t used to. He tries to reach out, just a little, to get a glimpse of what Lassie is actually thinking about him right now. It’s like trying to reach for something in a dream, where your arms don’t really exist and neither does what you’re trying to grab, and focusing too hard wakes you up before you can grab it but focusing too little sweeps you back into nonsense. Shawn can’t quite get a grip.
Shawn sniffs a little, and then nods, and then nods again harder to make his whole body move with the motion. “So uh… just, telling you guys everything, then? Because that could take a while, with the whole… memory, thing.”
“As much as you need to tell us. No more, no less.” Jules offers him her hand to hold. “And Shawn, I just want to say that I’m really, really honored that you came to us with this. That you’re trusting us, even though this is hard for you.”
“Of course, I trust you guys. I’d trust you both with my life, literally. If we got body-swapped I’d be completely relaxed knowing you’re probably treating it even better than I do.”
“That’s not really a high bar, Spencer.”
“Even my hair? It’s a high bar to trust you with styling my hair, Lassie.”
Lassiter considers this, and then nods in agreement.
Shawn takes one more second, and then looks up fully. “Time to get into the details, I guess.”
And he does.
And it turns out to be a long, long night.
Everyone wishes Lassie had stopped for snacks.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Shawn wakes up the next morning, groggy and sleep deprived and feeling wrung-out like a hand towel in an industrial kitchen, he hears his grandpa’s voice.
“I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Henry Spencer walks into the SBPD the next morning, Juliet O’Hara elbows him hard in the gut as she walks by, and while Henry is still leaning against the front desk corner catching his breath Carlton Lassiter walks up and yanks him away from the desk to throw him out the door.
“What the hell-!”
“For your sake, we better not see you around this station for at least a week. Any sooner and I can’t guarantee you leaving it without O’Hara pumping you full of lead.”
“Wh-”
“I mean it, Henry. Stay out. Or else.” Henry learns what Or else entails a week later when he follows Shawn into the station and hell breaks loose.
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crossover-enthusiast · 7 months
Note
Alr here's the excerpt though it's a bit angsty
"Uh.. hey, man." Noah's voice said at the other end of the line during the voice message he had left Kevin. Kevin listened to the voice message, beads of tears leaking out of his eyes as he sniffled.
"I—I know this might seem sudden, or like.. a little too soon, since we've only been friends for a while now, but I felt like I had to say this to you. Heh, I dunno why, but I got a weird gut feeling that you were feeling bad or something. I'm sure that's not true, but.. hey, maybe I have psychic vision or something, heheh." Noah's voice laughed on the recording. Kevin continued to listen, still sobbing, but now he had been completely silent. Noah.. had a gut feeling that he felt bad? How? He wasn't even here right now.
“Alright, then. I’m just gonna tell you this. You are really good person, you know that? I—I mean that, really. You’re a wonderful person, in fact. And—if you’re thinking that your not or you’re thinking about… doing something bad to yourself, please don’t. I’d hate to see you go. I want you to know you’re an amazing person and friend. I love you, man.” Noah’s voice stunned Kevin. What Noah had said had left Kevin utterly speechless.
“Alright then. I’m gonna go now, but, um… if you wanna talk about anything, just call me - alright? I’m at a restaurant right now, but I wouldn’t mind talking to you if you want. Well… alright, bye, dude.” The recording ended, and Kevin was left speechless. After a moment, he broke down into tears. His tears were not his own sorrow, but tears that were shed as the words he needed to hear were finally said to him. He needed to hear that, really.
————
Noah, who had been at the resturant, slightly widened his eyes when he then received a call from Kevin. Picking up the phone, he wanted until the connection was stable enough to speak to him. Once he heard the familiar click of the phone, he spoke, "Hey, dude."
Kevin sounded as if he were sniffling, "Hey, man.."
Noah raised a brow, and said in a slightly concerned tone, "You okay, dude? You sound like you've been.. crying. Have you been crying?"
Kevin sounded as if he was struggling to speak. Finally, Kevin choked out a reply to Noah: “I'm fine.. I.. I’ve been listening to your message… it was the exact thing I’ve needed to hear… all this time, and… just… thank you.”
"W—Woah.. uh, geez.. really? Then I guess that gut feeling was correct then.. do.. do you wanna talk about it?" Noah asked, sounding more concerned as he pressed the phone closer to his face so he could hear it better.
Kevin sniffled, "No, I.. I just wanted to thank you, dude. Thank you.. thank you so much, I really.. I really needed to hear that."
"Oh.. uh.. alright, then. Uh.. hey, dude, I'll be free once I get the hell out of this resturant. It's pretty packed, but.. I'll try to get out of here as soon as I can, alright? After that, we can hang out, and if you ever feel comfy telling me whatevers been up with you, I'll always be there to listen, alright?" Noah said, in a kind and open tone.
Kevin sniffled, and softly chuckled into the speaker, "Y—Yeah.. I'd like that."
OUUUGHH MY HEART 🥺
This is so sad but so sweet fknkngf
0 notes
rapifessor · 7 months
Text
Pokéchronology, Volume I: Yellow
Day 14 (FINAL DAY)
It's time.
Today is the day that I beat Pokémon Yellow, marking the end of the first volume of Pokéchronology. It's been a while since the last update. I've been busy and I wanted to make sure I had the time to push all the way through to the end of the game for the final post. I haven't yet completed the Pokédex, in fact I'm decently far away from accomplishing that still. But covering that in Pokéchronology doesn't seem quite right. There wouldn't be much to say about it, it's just running around catching Pokémon that I don't have yet. Maybe I'll talk about it in a generic blog post later on. In any case, I'm done with Pokémon Yellow for now.
For those of you who have been reading this series, what did you think of the first volume? What things do you think could be improved, and how can I make this series more interesting going forward? I have some ideas of my own, but I'd like to get some feedback so that I know what works and what doesn't.
With that out of the way, here's what happened. The final spoilers for Pokémon Yellow that you'll ever hear from me (probably):
Elite Four
Well, this is it. Time to run the gauntlet. I gather all the healing items and Elixirs I can muster up, with some X Specials and X Accuracies for good measure, in case I need them. I also use up all the vitamins I had stored away: two Calciums and three Carbos for Holy, and two Proteins for Mycoboss. I'm as ready as can be, without buying a ton of stuff or leveling up more.
Lorelei
The first challenger is Lorelei, the Ice type specialist. With Holy in front, this battle shouldn't be too difficult. She opens with Dewgong, who I swiftly dispatch with two Thunderbolts. Next, Lorelei sends out Cloyster, who is dealt with similarly. Her third Pokémon is Slowbro, who is not Ice type, but once again falls to two Thunderbolts. Jynx, her fourth Pokémon, proves to be a bit stronger against Holy due to her lack of weakness. I wasn't sure what moves she could use, so I kept in Holy to play defensively. Thankfully, Jynx doesn't have much HP, so three Surfs are enough to take her out.
Finally, Lorelei sounds out her Lapras, who takes three Thunderbolts to defeat, and the battle ends without me ever changing Pokémon. Her Pokémon were surprisingly tanky, but none of them were especially threatening either. It's kind of weird to me that one of the Elite Four is only packing five Pokémon, like come on. Take off the kiddie gloves already, I can handle trainers with full teams at this point.
Bruno
Moving on, the next of the Elite Four is Bruno, who again... has only five Pokémon. He opens the fight with an Onix. Lol. Lmao, even. Hitmonchan also fell to one Surf from Holy. I get that they're Fighting type, but god damn their Special is shit if they can't even survive one non-super-effective move against them. Hitmonlee is the same, although Hi Jump Kick does a lot of damage to Holy and they used Double Team, so Holy missed the first two Surfs before one-shotting them. After that is... Onix again? Really dude?
Bruno finally brings out his Machamp, so I decide it's time to bring out Miles and destroy them. For some reason, Bruno uses an X Defend. He did that on his other Pokémon too. Come on, dude! That's not going to save you from a 90 Base Power Special move with STAB and super effectiveness against your Pokémon! Long story short, I OHKO'd all of Bruno's Pokémon. Damn that was disappointing. But I suppose I should have expected that from the guy who only uses Rock and Fighting types in his team.
Agatha
Maybe Agatha will be more of a challenge. At first she looks like a Ghost type specialist, which should be interesting... except the only Ghost types in Generation I are the Gastly line, which are also all Poison type. Anyway, she sends out ya boi Gengar, who can really take some hits, even from Miles. But all Agatha does is spam potions while I spam Psychic moves and eventually take out her Pokémon. Next is Golbat, so I guess Agatha's more Poison specialist than Ghost, and I switch to BIG RAT but she immediately switches out Golbat for Haunter. Thunder does a good chunk of damage but I quickly switch back to Miles to finish them off. Golbat is back, takes one Psychic to defeat. Then comes Arbok. I could Psychic again, but instead I choose to have Prinzessin take care of them with Earthquake.
Down to her last Pokémon, and guess what? It's ya boi Gengar again, but this time they know Psychic for some reason. Whatever, Miles go brrr. Man, Poison types kinda suck don't they? At least against my team, they do.
Lance
The last member of the Elite Four is Lance, a Dragon specialist, who's poised to be the greatest challenge yet... I'm kidding, he starts with a Gyarados who hits Holy with a Hyper Beam. Really spicy move, but now Holy attacks, and Gyarados has a quad weakness to Electric. Surprisingly, Gyarados TANKS it with a sliver of HP left, but now they're Paralyzed and Holy outspeeds them to finish them off with Surf. Here come the actual Dragon types: Dragonair. Gets one-shot by Ice Beam, oops. Then Lance sends in another Dragonair, and you don't have to wonder what happens to them.
Aerodactyl on the other hand is a little spooky. I don't know what moves they have and they outspeed my entire team. The first move they use is Fly, so Aerodactyl dodges Holy's Ice Beam. I switch to BIG RAT to tank and hopefully deal some damage, but Aerodactyl is still faster, so BIG RAT eats a Hyper Beam and faints. Back to Holy, I manage to land the Ice Beam and it OHKO's Aerodactyl. Lance's ace is Dragonite, which does a fair amount of damage with Fire Blast as I heal up Holy to take them out. Once again, a single Ice Beam is enough to defeat them. Ice may not be a very strong type overall, but when it's strong, it's STRONG. Ice moves are pretty powerful, man.
The Champion
The Elite Four defeated, there's only one trainer standing in my way before I become the Champion myself, and that's Gary.
I knew I was more than capable of handing his team by now. That much was made clear in my last battle with him, so even with his team at their strongest, there's not much they can do to stop my.
The battle begins with Holy versus Sandslash once again, and Sandslash is too slow to do anything before Holy's Surf drops them.
Alakazam is next, and they prove to be somewhat formidable. Mycoboss does good damage still, but it takes three Leech Lifes to fully deplete Alakazam's HP. Unfortunately, Alakazam kept spamming Recover, resulting in a stalemate, before they get a cheeky crit and one-shot Mycoboss with Psychic. Well, time for my backup strategy: physical Mr. Mime. Miles Body Slams his way to victory.
Exeggutor is much more tanky than Alakazam though, so Body Slam spam doesn't work as well against them. I could switch to Holy here and probably one-shot Exeggutor with Ice Beam, but I didn't for fear of potentially dangerous Grass moves. Instead I choose to revive Mycoboss. They duel Exeggutor and eventually emerge victorious, despite Gary's use of healing items and Hypnosis spam.
Oh, hey Cloyster old buddy! They're literally weaker than Lorelei's Cloyster, what the fuck. Can't even survive one Thunderbolt.
Ninetales comes in and Fire Spins Holy. With Holy being unable to move, Ominous is the obvious choice. Ninetales barely survives a Hydro Pump, leaving Ominous to finish them off with ease.
With all but one of his Pokémon soundly defeated, Gary has no choice but to accept his fate. He can't beat my Pokémon. Despite being 15 levels ahead, having a super effective move at his disposal, and a massive speed advantage, Jolteon has no chance against Prinzessin. The fight ends with a single Earthquake.
Ending
And there you have it. Gary is in disbelief at his loss. Professor Oak comes along to tell him how shit he is and that he lost because he didn't love his Pokémon enough. Very supportive! I'm congratulated on my victory and admitted to the Hall of Fame, where my winning team is shown off one by one, in all their glory. I watch the credits, and it's revealed that I beat the game with a total play time of 47 hours and 9 minutes; just under two real-time days.
But this is not where it ends. There is still one thing left to do...
Cerulean Cave
That's right, it's time to beat the postgame dungeon and catch Mewtwo, the true final challenge. I get organized and set out for Cerulean City. There's one trainer that I missed just past the entrance to Cerulean Cave. You need Surf to get to her anyway so it's not like it would have made sense to come here before now. Before entering the cave, I ensure that I have the Master Ball in hand, as I will likely need it to catch Mewtwo.
Now we enter the dungeon. Cerulean Cave appears to be somewhat maze-like, but in reality there's only one path to follow with a plethora of items tucked away in corners and secret spots. Most of them are Ultra Balls, Max Elixirs, or Full Restores, but there are also several PP Ups here. I used one on Holy's Ice Beam, one on BIG RAT's Thunder, and one on Prinzessin's Earthquake.
While progressing I fight a lot of wild battles against powerful level 50+ Pokémon. There are a few that I hadn't caught yet, so I made a point of catching as many as I could. Got a Ditto named Ittledew, a Venomoth named Mothra, Danksta the Gloom, and Bleleleh the Lickitung. Not much else goes on, it's just a straightforward path to the end of the cave.
Mewtwo
Enter Mewtwo, the true final boss of Pokémon Yellow. They're level 70 and EXTREMELY powerful. Now, I could just toss the Master Ball and call it a day, but I decided to try and catch Mewtwo the old-fashioned way, as if I had used the Master Ball on a Pokémon already.
My first thought was to send in Miles to do some tanking and try to Paralyze Mewtwo with Body Slam, but Mewtwo takes out more than half of Miles' HP with a single Psychic, and that's saying a lot. I don't think any of my Pokémon take less damage from Psychic moves than Miles, which is kind of a problem.
I figure Mycoboss can at least do some damage, having a super effective move and a high Attack stat, but Mewtwo uses Barrier and Leech Life barely makes a dent in their HP. Things aren't looking great here. I have to disable Mewtwo because they're just too strong, so Spore time it is. Mewtwo recovers and undoes what little damage I had dealt to them before, but I try to make this a war of attrition with Sleep and Leech Life. It doesn't work, and before I can put Mewtwo back to sleep they one-shot Mycoboss with Psychic.
Being in a tough situation, I figure what I need to do is get Mycoboss revived to put Mewtwo to sleep again, and switch to someone else to deal damage. I had Miles pop back in to take the fall while I used my turn to revive Mycoboss. Miles doesn't get KO'd, so I switch to Mycoboss and they manage to survive long enough to land the Spore. From there I switch to Holy to deal as much damage as I can with Ice Beam.
I manage to drain Mewtwo's HP enough that I can start trying to catch them now, but I need to put them back to sleep. I heal up Mycoboss, tank Mewtwo's attacks again, use Spore, and start spamming balls. It's only a matter of time before the Genetic Pokémon is caught, thus ending the battle, completing Cerulean Cave, and completing Pokémon Yellow.
Some Final Thoughts
As my first experience playing traditional Pokémon, I found Pokémon Yellow to be surprisingly enjoyable. The game is overall very easy, though there were some moments where I felt the difficulty was decently balanced. I was worried I'd find the game barebones and archaic, but instead I was surprised by the amount of depth and intrigue that this little Gameboy game had. Satoru Iwata really was the GOAT for making this game possible. RIP legend.
Pokémon as a series really rewards you for good thinking and knowledge of its mechanics and intricacies. Adapting to its challenges and figuring out how to overcome unexpected difficulties, turning the tide of a battle is very satisfying. It's a very cerebral game at times, and I was thoroughly entertained by its problem solving aspects. I was never really bored at any point during my time playing.
Like I mentioned in previous updates to Volume I of Pokéchronology, there were plenty of things that irked me about Pokémon Yellow. Most of them are technical limitations, but there's nothing that can be done about them. From a game design standpoint, Pokémon types are pretty unbalanced and some the Pokémon themselves just get completely shafted by this.
Psychic types specifically are way too strong thanks to the Special stat determining both damage taken and received from Special moves, and their sheer effectiveness against a huge percentage of Pokémon in Generation I. This isn't helped by the relative weakness and small move selection of the Bug type, the only real counter to Psychic. The only reason Bug still performs decently against Psychic is that most Psychic types have garbage Defense and HP.
But ultimately, none of Pokémon Yellow's faults really soured my experience, as it's very possible to work around them and build a team that's prepared to deal with anything. I'm very much looking forward to the next game, Pokémon Crystal, and my journey through the Johto region. I imagine it will be even more entertaining as it ramps up the complexity with a host of new Pokémon, new types, and new mechanics.
Expect the debut of the next volume of Pokéchronology soon. It will be much longer and hopefully more interesting than the first.
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