#i went with a more cartoon approach to the villager | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Charlie Chan. Who is fascinating, because he was created explictly to be an anti-Yellow Peril character. Unlike most Chinese characters of the time, he's both intelligent, physically capable, and unambiguously heroic. In the novels, he's simultaneously proud of being Chinese AND proud of being an American citizen. He gives orders and instructions to white people, and the narrative treats this as perfectly normal and acceptable. There's a bit in the first book, when an attempt to trap the..(1/2)

(cont'd)There's a bit in the first book where an attempt to trap the protagonist fails, because a message supposedly from Charlie clearly isn't because Charlie's English isn't broken, it's like poetry. Etc. The movies made him more stereotypical, & played by white actors in yellowface, but still, he's a heroic Chinese man, who is as capable and patriotic as any white man. Nowadays, he's thought of as racist caricature. Which he is, but still, it makes one think.

I'm not nearly as acquainted with Charlie Chan as you are (and I definitely suspected he was less racist in the original books because that's nearly always the norm when it comes to pulp characters) but yeah, that "Which he is" is forever going to be the most unfortunate and saddest part of it all when it comes to Charlie Chan. For all the virtues that can be bestowed on Charlie Chan, for everything great that the character had going for him and inspired, the fact that the least offensive image of the character I could find to put here for illustration's sake is from the Hanna-Barbera cartoon kinda exemplifies the big elephant in the room when it comes to Charlie.

Charlie Chan is a great example of two things: One is the way progress is never a fixed quantity and often what was progressive and forward-thinking in it's time can become something outdated and backwards and downright offensive given enough time, and the 2nd is my constant stressing that this is all the more incentive to reclaim the pulps and either highlight or fix aspects of them, instead of dismissing every aspect of them based on the preconception that everything about it's history is unforgivably bigoted and must be handled with the nuance of a sledgehammer.

I stress time and time again the need to highlight and understand the prejudices that went into pulps, because either ignoring them or wielding them as a weapon to attack them does no favors to anyone. The pulps weren't exceptionally bigoted - look at literally any medium in it's time period and you'll find bigotry and prejudice and hatred - and they were exceptional in the number of POC heroes and heroines. Pulps were a medium of experimentation and cheap entertainment that gave way to much, much more varied kinds of protagonists than were permitted in films, serials, novels, comics and radio serials of the day. Imagine if no one was allowed to bring up and discuss superheroes without mentioning the Superman Slap-a-Jap posters or the Captain Marvel story so horrifingly racist it was recounted by an American ambassador after it deeply offended a friend's son and a major influence on the 1950s anti-comic trials. "Pulp fiction had deeply, unforgivingly racist depictions that deserve intense scrutiny and cannot be ignored" and "Pulp fiction was significantly ahead of every other medium at the time in regards to authors and editors striving to publish stories about heroic POCs, this cannot be dismissed and is something that needs to be perpetuated" are not exclusive facts. "A product of it's time" is not an excuse and never was, but it's a fact nevertheless.

Every time someone speaks favorably of Charlie Chan in any capacity, they have to start with a long preface of everything positive that the character had going for him. Yes, he's a deliberate subversion of the Yellow Peril, he's a heroic protagonist, he's plump and good-natured and humorous but far from a joke, he's friendly and pleasant and well-educated and wise, he's a good dad and family man and a terrifically sharp detective who's so good at his job he gets called to solve crimes all over the world, and none of these traits are apparent to people who have to google the character and repeteadly see a white man in awful make-up into every single image of the character, who watch the movies and cringe at the broken English. It's hardly relevant in the face of all the Asian-American critics who acknowledge the character's virtues but rightfully point out that this fortune-cookie spouting caricature, acting subservient to whites and whose virtues are based around his proximity to a white American ideal, doesn't represent them and they shouldn't pretend it does.

Which isn't to say that to like Charlie Chan is "wrong", a lot of East Asians love Charlie and the character's obviously got fans in Asian Americans. It's a complicated subject and I obviously cannot begin to vouch in a subject so heavily based around perceptions I cannot experience. And I deeply detest the idea of speaking for others on their particular experiences on this kind of matter, which is something Americans do a lot everytime they talk about representation in media.

So instead, I'm going to tackle this on a roundabout manner by going on an unrelated tangent to bring up an example of representation that isn't quite representative of what it's supposed to be, has a lot of issues that have been dissected by critics among the people it was supposed to represent, and none of that stopped the character from being popular and beloved and from being claimed anyway. And it's a Brazilian fighting game character, which means it's completely within my ballpark.

Yeah, obviously Blanka doesn't look like anyone who lives in Brazil (whatever resemblance he bears to redheaded jungle protectors of Brazilian folklore is purely accidental). Obviously neither Jimmy nor Blanka are Brazilian names or even exist in the Portuguese lexicon. Obviously there are issues in Street Fighter's approach to representation across the board, sure, and I'd actually say Laura is much worse than Blanka in that regard (again, my opinion, obviously not universal), but the fact remains that Blanka is and has always been pretty controversial. Obviously there's Brazilians who took offense to Blanka and they weren't wrong to do so, and I obviously do not speak for everyone here, that goes without saying.

Obviously the idea that Brazil's major representative in a global cast of characters, the first big name Brazilian character in videogames, is going to be a freakish jungle monster who roars and bites faces has problems, as is the fact that all the others get to be regular people representing fighting styles from their countries while Blanka doesn't. None of the Brazilian SF characters represent Capoeira, which is kinda shitty to be honest. And there's a whole stereotype of Brazil as a backwards land of beasts and savages that Blanka's creation played into. There's no shortage of ground to criticize Blanka's representation and Ono actually apologized in an interview once, but then he learned one teensy little thing:

Street Fighter is very popular on Brazil. Would you like to leave a message to the fans from there?

"Ono: Yes, I'm aware. At the time of Street Fighter II a lot of the arcade machines produced went there, so I knew we had lots of fans there. A message to Brazilians, well, I'd like to apologize. I know Blanka's a weird character and I don't want any Brazilian to feel uncomfortable with that.

When Blanka was conceived, we knew there were forests in Brazil, and so we thought he could look like that. I was actually kinda nervous knowing I'd meet Brazilian journalists. Still, this is the first Street Fighter in ten years, so we'd like all fans to play, including Brazilians, which are many.

Thanks. Well, but you should know that Brazilians love Blanka

"Ono: Ah, good! I was scared of getting beat up if I ever went to São Paulo! (laughs)"

(That's from a 2012 tv special called The Greatest Brazilian of All Time where over a million viewers voted to elect whoever they wanted, and Blanka was going to win. He was polling ahead of Aryton Senna and PELÉ, fucking Pelé, yes this happened. He wasn't even disqualified for being a cartoon character, it was an open poll, he was disqualified due to canon stating he had been born in Thailand, which I think may have been retconned since then. Again, A MILLION BRAZILLIANS voted for this contest, and Blanka was going to win.)

Blanka is great and sweet and lovable, he made the best out of the incredible shitty hands fate dealt him and became a cool and strong green man who shoots lightning and flies, a self-taught warrior who rides whales and planes to fighting tournaments, and he loves his mom and friends and kicks ass and after he's done he dances in joy and gives the kids of his village piggyback rides, and Brazil loves him. He doesn't represent any existing person or fighting style, he's rooted in a negative stereotype and incorrect assumptions, he's not even really Brazilian, and he's our boy and nobody can take him away from us.

No criticism of Blanka, no matter how in-depth or even right it is, is ever going to affect that, because regardless of what was wrong or misguided and offensive about him, we claimed him and loved him so throughly that Capcom kept playing up Brazilian representation in every subsequent game post Alpha, and because of Blanka's impact and reception in such a big game, Brazilian characters have become a staple of fighting games, and that's how we got much more diverse representatives in those games. Fighting games have more Brazilian representation than LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE on media not produced here. It started as BAD representation, with way less thought put into it than Charlie Chan, and it still mattered to a lot of Brazilians who reclaimed it and made it better than it was ever intended to be, and as a response to it, it gradually became better.

Progress is not a fixed quantity, it's an uphill battle, and it's not unwinnable. Everything's gotta start somewhere.

The Good Asian is a ongoing comic that I think does the best job I've seen yet of handling an Asian American detective protagonist, which is not really a high bar in the first place, and more to the point, The Good Asian illustrates the 2nd part: the reclaiming. The Good Asian deals a lot with the realities that a 1930s Asian-American detective would run into, the strained circumstances and relationships between said character and the world around him, because it's born from an author who took a look at Charlie Chan and Mr Moto and the like and recognized the potential in those stories that could not be fulfilled in it's time period by the people writing said stories.

The Good Asian pays little reverence to Charlie Chan, but it acknowledges that it cannot exist without Charlie Chan, and it reclaims the Charlie Chan premise at the hands of someone more adequately equipped to tell a gripping story that goes places none of Charlie's contemporaries would ever go. Regardless of how good or bad of representation Charlie Chan was, Charlie Chan mattered and was beloved and inspired a better example for others to improve on or rebel against.

I desperately wish that I could google Charlie Chan without having to look at a guy in yellowface, and the ONLY way that's going to happen is if the character ever gets meaningfully brought back and reclaimed for good by people who can meaningfully tackle the character and present him as he should have always been presented.

And then, I imagine it would be a lot easier to show people on how swell Charlie really is. A true, positive role model and hero, who no longer has to look like a gross cartoon to be able to exist at all. Who can finally be what he was always meant to be, and always was deep down.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #charlie chan #detective fiction #the good asian #street fighter #blanka

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stardustskz · 4 years

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It Just Is

pairings: seungmin x reader

word count: 4.8k

warnings: mentions of anxiety, language, description loaded (i think?)

genre: fluff (?), angst

description: Han Jisung begged you to drive him to somewhere and you didn’t expect to see familiar faces that caused some of your ‘forbidden’ memories to resurface.

note: i don’t really know what this is but, it’ll be a waste to let it sit in my drafts forever. also, this may or may not have a second part

There are missing items in your life that you have longed to look for. The ocean blue cardigan that you used to wear frequently during seventh grade, which you don’t quite remember if you have misplaced it around the house or your mom already donated it somewhere else. That one decorative pen that you loved to use for your writings whether you take notes during class or cram your Petrarchan sonnet that is due the next day. The Minnie mouse keyring that your grade school best friend gave you as a present when their family visited Singapore that you valued a lot until one day it wasn’t hanging by the zipper of your backpack anymore. These things that you lost in a fraction of time without even knowing that they’ll be gone from your sight for the entirety of your life, they once became your comfort. The warmth of your cardigan whenever you’re cold from the harsh morning breeze on your way to your school. The grasp of that certain pen when you scribble your notes in a hurry before the teacher moves to the next slide of her presentation. The familiarity of seeing that pink dotted ribbon hanging on your backpack, indicating that it’s yours. They all have been a fabric of your being, a part of you. Well, that is until you lose them.

You scanned through the piles of paper on your desk, trying to find your sharpener to finally finish the title block of your plate. You mumbled a few series of curses as you glanced at the clock. It was already 9:51 in the evening and this plate that you’re currently doing is due at midnight. Screw your stupid alarm clock for not waking you up when you swore that you have set it at 1:00pm. You hurriedly sharpened your pencil a second after you found it underneath your history book as you heard an obnoxious knock from the door. You chose to ignore it and moments after, you hear it open following your brother’s annoying voice,

“Y/n!! Your plate looks wonderful!”

“What do you want, Jisung?” you groaned in annoyance as you already know that certain tone of his.

“Help me get to Hyunjin’s tonight” Jisung answered which made you turn around from your drafting to face him.

“It’s the third party this week, don’t you have any other stuff to do?” you asked him with a hint of concern, but your tone failed you as it sounded like your usual nagging.

“Well, first of all, we’re of the same age, you don’t have to scold me,” you glared at him for his a-matter-of-fact answer.

“Second, I’m not an architecture student like you.” He then stuck his tongue out in an attempt to annoy you even more.

“Well first of all, Han Jisung, that was so fucking mature of you,” you retorted mocking his dramatic voice and turning your head again to your desk before continuing,

“Second, I won’t help you–”

“Yeah? Then I’ll tell mom that you haven’t been doing the dishes for two nights now.” And that made you turn your gaze again to your brother who grinned as he successfully caught your attention, again.

“Screw you, we had a deal.” You told him as you faced your plate again, Han fucking Jisung can wait.

“Wait until I finish my plate then I’ll drive you there.” You heard Jisung celebrate in joy as he lied flat on your bed, patiently waiting for you to finish.

You see, even though you are twins and you practically share the same birthday, you grew up owning the title of being born a minute earlier than Jisung. This resulted in your parents seeing you as the more responsible one than your twin. It added up to the fact that you and Jisung are polar opposites when it came to your personalities. Let’s just say that he’s the more outgoing one and you’re more of the type to lock yourself up in your room all day.

“Is it a huge party?” you asked Jisung from the passenger seat of your mom’s beloved mini van that was now yours to drive around.

“Not really, it’s just the inner circle this time” he said as you stopped for a red traffic light.

“I’ll just wait for you in the car then.” You answered him with a nod of understanding.

“No, that will be horrible y/n, why would you wait in the car? It’s cold.”

You looked at him meaningfully before turning your gaze at the road again as the traffic light already turned green. Jisung immediately got why you were stern on staying inside of the car instead of bonding with him and your circle of friends, well, some of them.

“What’s wrong with being with him in the same room? It’s not like you’ll be forced to talk to him.” He explained, his voice laced with concern and worry that you may be upset with him for having this conversation.

“I don’t know Jisung…” you mumbled as you turned to the right corner, finally entering the village where Hyunjin lives.

“You are good friends y/n” Jisung whispered, looking outside of the window as the car passed by the familiar set of houses that he remembers by heart.

“We were good friends, Jisung” you answered, already pulling up in front of Hwang's porch.

“Then what went wrong?”

What went wrong? That question rang in your head with the consistent wave of various emotions as you took notice of the person by the house’s entrance.

Ever since you were a kid, you’ve always had this poor memory skills. This is the reason why you often misplace your things that leads to losing them. However, there’s this one kid that helped you with that problem.

It was during your fourth grade in middle school when you first met him. It was that one particular day that went totally wrong as you fought with your brother early in the morning because he’s being an annoying little prick and woke you up yelling your name, which you hated a lot by the way, and your day got even more sour when your teacher passed the module of mathematical problems and you seem to have lost your pen, seeing to it that it wasn’t inside your mustard yellow pencil case. You know that you’re screwed specially when 15 minutes into answering the module, you still have no pen to write and solve with. Because first, it may sound miserable, but you have no friends and second, your pride stood still, refusing to talk to Jisung even when you clearly needed help.

The moment that your teacher left your classroom, a boy with a raven hair, chubby cheeks and a cute mole by his left chubbier cheek approached you,

“Hey, you can use my spare one.” He said. And who are you to refuse the kind offer? So, you accepted it and muttered a whisper of thank you before your teacher came back.

By the time that all of your classes were finished, you decided to return the pen to the said boy. You slowly approached him even before your brother had reached you, earning a confused look from Jisung.

“Uh, hey thank you for earlier and uh… here’s your pen.” Your nine-year-old introverted ass managed to say out loud.

“Oh y/n! You’re welcome!” to say that you were shocked was an understatement. How did he know your name when you don’t even talk to anyone in class besides your brother? And you also felt shy, and a bit guilty because you clearly don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry but, I don’t know your name.” you shyly said, head hanging low and fingers fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. But then you looked up when you heard soft giggles coming from the boy.

“It’s Seungmin! And no worries y/n,” nine-year-old Seungmin said.

“By the way, I’m coming by your place later to play video games with Jisung. You can join us if you’d like!”

And this was the start of it. You and Seungmin became inseparable. Maybe it’s because seungmin helped you by letting you borrow his pen and his kindness touched one of the strings inside your heart or maybe it was how cute his chubby cheeks are with the left one a bit larger than the right or maybe it was how he included you in every conversations when you were hanging out with them by your house’s living room just to play left4dead with your brother’s ps3. But you’ve grown to be the best of friends from then on.

Every Saturday, you would alternately visit each other’s house studying your Sciences and Maths with the sides of playing video games and watching classic cartoons. Seungmin also helped with you misplacing things often. He suggested writing on a memo pad every single thing you wanted to remember later on, every day, but only those that are important. Seungmin is also quite observative with his surroundings. For he would always know that the pen you’re looking for is located between the locks of your hair which is tied in a bun and the scrunchie that you’re trying to find was inside your now amber pencil case that you love carrying around. You were so close that even both of your parents even tagged you as the ones who seem like twins than you and Jisung.

Ever since you were a kid you’ve always had this poor memory skill and you still wonder until now the reason how and why you can’t forget everything about a certain Kim Seungmin when he seems to have forgotten every inch of your existence.

You heard a loud knock coming from the window of the passenger's seat which interrupted you from your short trip down to memory lane. You squint your eyes to recognize the person despite the dark and obsidian night clouding your vision. Recognizing it to be Hyunjin, you unlocked the car doors for him.

“Seungmin told me that he saw you here,” he started as he sat comfortably now by the passenger seat.

“and Jisung fell asleep in the middle of a movie” he continued. You sighed, expecting nothing much of your brother that shared the same trait as yours when it came to enduring long hours of sitting in front of a tv and just watching.

“Can you help me bring him here?” You asked as you had an agreement with Jisung that you’ll both be home before sunrise.

“Why don’t you stay the night y/n? I mean, not here. You can join us inside.” Hyunjin asked even though he already knew the answer.

“It’s my responsibility to bring him home, Hyunjin,” you said, immediately dismissing his suggestion.

“Besides, if mom and dad come home and we’re out of sight, then we’ll be dead as meat” Hyunjin scoffed at your reply making you question him in silence.

“Jisung already told me that your parents won’t be back for the next two days.” Oh. Well, shit.

“Come on, y/n, let’s get you inside. It’s cold out here.” All your hopes of going home with Jisung tonight was shattered as Hyunjin was already pulling you outside of your car, putting the sketchbook on your lap inside of your bag, which was lying in the backseat of your car, and dragging you towards their house.

“Y/n’s here!!” Hyunjin clearly made sure that everyone knew your presence inside the house. Your eyes immediately tried to find a sleeping figure of your brother by the cushion but he’s not there.

“Oh? y/n! I made your favorite snacks” and there he was, standing by the kitchen counter with a bowl of strawberries and melted chocolate in his hands. You glared at Hyunjin at this and the latter only apologetically looked at you and mouthed a ‘sorry’. Stuck in the situation, you only sighed as you took a seat in one of the couches as you heard how Hyunjin broke down to Jisung the details of how he managed to force your ass here.

“Y/n! my little one!” a voice called out coming from the kitchen which you certainly recognize that belongs to Chan. He sat down beside you and immediately attacked you with one of his big and comfortable hugs.

“I really missed you” he whispered in your ear before pulling away.

Felix announced that the movie is about to start which made everyone get back to their places. Jisung handed you your strawberries before he sat down with felix by the couch opposite to yours. You scanned your eyes to the people around you as you took notice of everyone in here. Chan who was now sitting by the carpet in front of the couch you were on. Changbin and Jeongin who were cuddled like babies by the longest couch, Felix, Hyunjin and Jisung who were now arguing in whispers of who will be able to cuddle Hyunjin’s Ryan plush. Minho, who just came back from the restroom and sat in front of Changbin and Jeongin. And—

Your thoughts were cut when a blanket was softly draped by your shoulders. You glanced behind you only to see the person you’re trying to avoid who was also looking at you,

“It’s… cold.” He said, deciding to turn away before you even return a ‘thank you’. You took the blanket in your hands and realized that it’s his own personal blanket. The one that he carried around whenever he would sleepover at your place before.

The movie ended and it was no surprise that both you and Jisung had already fallen asleep. Well, more than half of you are already in a deep slumber. The only ones awake are Chan, Minho and Seungmin.

"Are we gonna let them sleep like that or….?" Minho asked as Chan already started cleaning up the place from empty snacks and cups.

"I think the boys can manage to sleep in here, just bring more pillows and blankets," Chan answered, his figure disappearing towards the kitchen.

"Oh! and bring y/n upstairs to Hyunjin's room!" Chan declared.

Seungmin only watched as Chan and Minho did their thing, elbow propped to the armchair of the single seated sofa he's in and eyes boring directly to you, seeping. Just as when Minho was about to carry you to Hyunjin's room as Chan instructed, Seungmin sat up straight from his slouching position.

"I'll take her," he said,

"... uh, upstairs." Minho only looked at him before heaving a sigh and letting Seungmin do it.

Seungmin then approached you, taking notice of how his blanket draped over your sleeping figure. He sighed heavily before placing his arms beneath your neck and knees, carrying you in the comfort of his arms. You shifted in your sleep and snuggled closer to Seungmin's neck unconsciously due to his warmth being in close proximity to your naturally cold body.

“Be careful” Minho instructed as Seungmin started to head for the stairs.

Seungmin successfully laid you down the bed and carefully tucked you in beneath the sheets, attempting to take his blanket from you. But you tugged on it and cuddled with it more in your unconscious state. Seungmin chuckled at how adorable you looked and decided to just let you have it. It also reminded him of that one precious memory with you.

"Seungmin, I'm really, really sorry. I thought that I placed it in here already." you said as you checked Seungmin’s duffle bag once more. You were so sure that you’ve included his blanket there, which he lent you the previous day. Your eyes started to water at the thought of misplacing Seungmin’s favorite blanket at the cabin, because you always lose things.

“Have you checked your bag?” Seungmin said as he opened your backpack that lies beside his. He scrambled through the pile of clothes inside and a minute later, he felt the familiar smoothness of the cotton of his blanket. He sighed in relief before bringing it out, showing it to you.

“Y/n, it’s in here” he chuckled as he held it in your vision. You let out a shaky breath before tears came running down from your eyes. All of the frustrations from earlier and the anxiety of losing something important to your best friend came crashing to you as your adrenaline finally settled down, resulting in letting it all out. Seungmin, with years of knowing that you have a shitty tolerance with how your lacrimal glands work, led you to the surface of the bed. Encircling his warm hands to your much colder ones as he rubs soothing circles at the back of it with his thumb. Just like what he always did whenever you needed someone’s comfort. One that you can’t just vocally ask someone of and one that only a certain Kim Seungmin can do.

It was one of Seungmin’s favorite memories of you. It wasn’t because you cried, god no, Seungmin hates seeing you cry. It was the level of intimacy that your friendship with him has. You weren’t in your best shape, but he saw how you cared for him and not just him but also the things that he owns and the sentiments that they hold. How you value your relationship with him that even a stupid blanket of made you bawl your eyes out. It was how special and dear he is to you, not the expensive, crystal, gems that you both always laugh at whenever you go online shopping, but it’s special like how you always wore this long, beige, soft-cottoned cardigan of yours, the one where you don’t want to lose it so you’ll just use it in every kind of opportunity there is, to keep it in your sight. And believe it or not, Seungmin regrets every decision he made when everything that he had with you came to an end. Because it took him a year in college, and an ample amount of avoiding you, to realize that you were more than just a best friend.

You suddenly woke up from your sleep, feeling quenched for water. Then you remembered that you haven't had any drop of water after the sweets that you consumed earlier. You made your way towards the kitchen from Hyunjin's room, knowing the directions well, based on your last memories from this house. Reaching the kitchen counter, you spotted a familiar figure sitting by the table. But you chose to ignore him as you made your way to the fridge after grabbing a glass of water by one of the cabinets.

"Hey… y/n," you choked on your glass of water as you heard him suddenly speak. You wiped your lips before turning around to face him.

"Can we perhaps, uh… talk?" You took a sharp breath in as you totally did not expect him to initiate a conversation with you.

Seungmin was beyond nervous. He can already hear his heart pounding in his chest as you slowly approached the table, taking your time to somehow process the questions in your head. You took the seat in front of him, the grazing of the chair's feet against the marble floor being the only sound that was heard in the dread of the night. You softly sighed before turning your gaze towards the boy's hazelnut orbs, which was a wrong decision as it reflected against the moonlight from the window behind you, effortlessly making you lost with how his eyes showcased faint sadness and longingness.

It was during your last December as a senior high school, you guess it was when everything went wrong.

You were watching Seungmin's baseball game, excitedly screaming his name when your phone rang obnoxiously from your pocket. At first you ignored it, thinking it was just Felix trying to convince you to accompany him at the bake sale, even though he's fully aware that you're with Seungmin. But then your phone did not stop ringing and by the third time, you answered. It was Jisung's number, but the voice doesn't belong to him. It was a call from the hospital, telling you that you must come immediately for your brother was caught in an accident. They told you to don't panic but here you are, quickly getting off from the bleachers while texting Seungmin about your sudden disappearance.

You reached the hospital with your anxiety rising in every step that you take. The nurse instructed you to wait outside as your brother was undergoing an operation. You were frightened, of course. Your parents at that time were both out of town and you can't call your friends knowing that they're still in the middle of their classes, but you settled on sending them a message. Hours went by as you painstakingly waited for the doctor to come out of the operating room. Chan arrived first out of your friend group and that's when you broke down. Weeping and bawling your eyes out as he engulfed you with his warm arms. Your friends slowly piled up in the white hallways of the hospital, but your best friend was still nowhere in sight. The doctor finally came out and told you about your brother's condition. Apparently, Jisung was caught in a car accident, the driver of the car was over speeding, but his breaks don’t work. Jisung will now be transferred in a separate room and you just have to wait for him to wake up.

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin pointed out as you all headed for the room Jisung was transferred to.

“His game wasn’t done yet when I received the call.” you said, a bit tired from crying due to the events of that day.

“But it’s been hours already. I’m sure his game wouldn’t last that long” Felix stated, clearly concerned because they all know how you and Seungmin treat each other and it was evident, by the way you search for the entrance of the hallway every now and then, that you’re looking for your best friend.

“He’ll come by.” you said, completely ignoring everyone else as you sat on a chair near Jisung’s bed and it wasn’t that long when you had fallen asleep, clutching your brother’s hand in yours.

Seungmin came by the next day, explaining that he had to stay after the game for some stuffs that their coach instructed him and you noticed that something is wrong. It bothers you how he can’t look directly in your eyes as he explained. Because Seungmin wasn’t like that. He would always look at you whenever he tells you something important but that day, he chose to avoid your gaze. And one of the things that you regretted doing was not asking him about it because after that, Seungmin became distant.

The first two months after the incident, it was still tolerable, after school hangouts slowly lessened, with Seungmin spending his extra time for baseball practices and you totally understand it, you still have lunch times together anyways. But then it didn’t last long, when you all came back to school, having to spend your last semester as senior high school students, Seungmin suddenly doesn’t sit with you during lunch anymore. He started to hang out with the jocks, his teammates. It doesn’t also help that he’s cancelled every road trip that you both scheduled way before the previous semester ended. Your weekly game nights with him became monthly ones, until he skipped one month, or maybe two... or three, and it became countless that you never cared anymore. Everything that you’ve been doing with Seungmin, you became used to doing them all alone now. And you can only bask in silence as you continue to question yourself, What happened?

You used to hate losing things that you value dearly, but you never knew that losing someone would hurt much more than the things you lost. And Seungmin, he was among those that you lost but the difference this time is that you knew. You knew that he was slowly slipping away from you but you just let him. Thinking it was okay, thinking maybe, he grew tired of you, of how he was always the one to look out for you but everyone including you, knew that it doesn't make a point. Seungmin won't just slip away like that or that's what you thought.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin broke the endearing silence that surrounds the both of you.

“For everything.” You only stared at him which he took as a signal to go on.

“Remember the university that I always told you about before?” Of course you remember, he couldn’t stop talking about it, junior year. You nodded in response as he went on,

“The same day of Jisung’s accident, I got offered for a scholarship to study there and I didn’t know what to do. My parents kept bugging me to accept it and they are already planning for my future on their own. It was my dream school, y/n." you saw a stray tear that grazed seungmin’s left chubbier cheek that you love the most, making you want to wipe it but no, you have to keep yourself cool or all the walls that you built after him will be instantly destroyed.

"I was confused, because in every future plan that I had, prior to being offered that scholarship, you were already included," Seungmin continued, his voice cracking as he tried to suppress his sobs.

"y/n, I didn't want to lose you." he said before tears were rushing down his delicate features,

"You already did." you said, your now glassy eyes locked with his.

"y/n–"

"No, Seungmin, you had a choice to tell me everything before. You should've told me and I would understand the situation, but you did not. Instead you slowly left me. Do you even know how much I had gone through?" you cut him off.

"I– I'm sorry,"

Seungmin was scared, then and now, to see how you're drifting away from him. The only difference was that when he made that decision before, he was scared of his growing feelings for you, feeling more than what the title ‘best friend’ holds, which pushed him to do what he did. He knows, his defense mechanism was bullshit. But then now, he is scared of the possibility that you'll cut him off of your life, without him telling you what he truly felt just because he doesn't want to add more flame to the burning of your wounds.

"I was a coward, I know. So, please, let me make it up to you." you scoffed at his reply,

"Why now? It's been two years, Seungmin. It probably won't hurt you to have me completely out of your life because you clearly are doing well on your own"

"Han Jisung," he said which had taken you back,

"He won't let me near you after senior year." you sat there in silence, Jisung did what now?

"You can ask him." Seungmin added but you weren't paying attention as everything in your head is now in pure chaos. You know you can't think straight at this moment so you just sat there in silence, trying to organize the haywire in your brain.

"Did you accept the scholarship?" you asked, which startled Seungmin.

"I did."

"Good for you. I'd feel guilty if you haven't." you sighed as you glanced at the clock and noticed that it's already half past four in the morning. You stood up from your seat, preparing to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to sleep, you?" you asked him.

"I'll stay for a while." he said, looking up at you with slumped shoulders.

"I forgive you, Min, I already did a long time ago," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"But I'm sorry, I don't think I can give you what you're looking for right now."

There are things in your life that you have longed to look for and in some instances, you tend to find them at the most random places, in the most unexpected times. But after not seeing them for a long period of time, you happen to forget the value that it holds, how important they were, and nothing will remain besides the nostalgic memories that it held. That’s what you felt with Seungmin right now. He was your best friend, until he wasn’t. You were inseparable until he slipped away from your bond. And now, every time you see him, you’ll be reminded of how he once left you and the possibilities of it repeating. Because you believe that losing something once can be a mistake but losing it twice means you’re not responsible enough to keep it.

#stray kids seungmin #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #straykids au #stray kids au #stray kids oneshot #stray kids kim seungmin #seungmin #kim seungmin

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autumnalfallingleaves · 4 years

Link

After several months, I finally wrote a thing because Wizards hit me in the feels.

~~~

Remembering.

Or,

There are consequences to changing the timeline.

~~~

Blinkous Galadrigal has, for nine-hundred years, known that there would one day be a Trollhunter with piercing blue eyes that shine like hope. Hope for victory. Hope for the next day. Hope for the future.

He has met this Trollhunter. His name was Jim (an odd name), and his blue eyes had shone as he rallied the citizens of Dwoza to arms. Something had stirred within his breast, then, along with the utter fear that threatened to overtake him. His brother felt the same, he could tell, but he, Blinkous Galadrigal, would not give in to the terror, not when this literal whelp could stand before them and tell them they’d win, despite what they may think. He had lived a much longer life than this child. Surely, he could fight a war?

And they fought. And they won, all because of this child with hope-blue eyes and the ability to look at him and tell him he could do so much more.

Much later, the Trollhunter approached him, after the fighting had ceased and Jim and his companions had returned to whence they came.

Deya the Deliverer, once Callista the Calamity, stood before him and told him who this child had been: a Trollhunter, like herself, but from the distant future. Jim had told her, she said, that a day would come where Blinkous himself would be a close companion of his, and one whom Jim trusted with his life.

He would need to know Jim, she said, but do not tell him that you know him. Let him forge his own path, but do not let him do it alone. Guide him to be the child of hope that he knew from Dwoza.

Hope for the future, Blinkous, the Deliverer told him, and teach Jim to hope, as well.

~~~

AAARRRGGHH!!! has, for nine-hundred years, known that there would one day be a Trollhunter with a toothy, knowing smile that looks like mercy. Mercy for the disillusioned. Mercy for ones who do not know better. Mercy for those who deserve second chances.

He knows this because it was this whelp who showed him a better path. Under Gunmar, AAARRGGHH!!! was always watching his back, always frightened, always waiting for the fatal blow. In the Skullcrusher’s horde, there was always a chance that you would be killed by one looking for power, no matter what your rank was. This… Jim had looked at him, smiled, and offered a hand not to strike him, but to offer a chance to start again. A chance to live a life without fear.

AAARRRGGHH!!! was reluctant to take it. What did this child know of him? Of war? Didn’t he know that there was no mercy for a killer like him?

Kill him! The citizens of Dwoza yelled, and AAARRRGGHH!!! agreed. He was guilty of so many things. The only thing he deserved was death.

But no. He never got what he wanted, did he? Not a chance to have a peaceful life like these Trolls, not a chance to have a family like the small, four-armed Troll and his brother, both of whom were clearly terrified by him.

The Jim had scowled at the other Trolls and told them no, they would not kill him. Then he smiled at AAARRRGGHH!!!, and it shone like mercy, the kind where you could try again and again, and no matter how many times you slipped, you would not be punished for it.

The boy was merciful. The general was not used to this feeling… this… this… kindness. When had he ever been kind to another? He couldn’t remember. And…

…When had he ever been merciful?

But the Jim was filled with it, and it was this mercy that allowed him to meet Blinkous. Or Blinky, because Blinkous was hard to say and that was what the Jim had called him. Blinky was skittish and anxious, but he was also empathetic and kind. He did not hit AAARRRGGHH!!! when he made a mistake. He corrected him with a smile, and not once did he ever judge him.

It was nice.

After the Battle of Killahead, on their way to the New World and a new Heartstone, as the Dwoza stone had died in the blast of magic that shook the heavens, Blinky told him who the Jim had been: a Trollhunter like Deya, but from the future. He and AAARRRGGHH!!! would know the boy, he told him, and they would be his teachers.

AAARRRGGHH!!! was glad. The boy had been his savior, and he would have a chance to repay him. He would teach him mercy, AAARRRGGHH!!! decided, like Blinky would teach him hope. The mercy to be able to spare a former GummGumm like him.

~~~

Deya has, for nine-hundred years, known that there would one day be a Trollhunter with a soft-yet-strong voice that rings like justice. Justice for those unfairly slain. Justice for the generations yet to come. Justice for oneself.

This Trollhunter was the one who gave her her purpose, her name. Before, she had been Callista the Calamity, doomed to put all she loved in danger. She was an outcast, she was bad luck, she was someone no one wanted around. She was tainted by humans, after all, and carried a human name. But she couldn’t help it. Her memories of her old life were gone. Where was the justice in that?

But Jim hadn’t cared. He saw Callista, not the Calamity. He didn’t have the history needed to judge her. He’d met her in the dungeons beneath Camelot and decided she was someone who was worth saving. He spoke of hope and mercy and justice, and Callista couldn’t help but swept away by the tide of it all. It had been a while since someone had cared enough to talk to her, and more importantly, to listen to her.

And he listened. He listened as she told him about her story: her village destroyed, being captured by humans, given one of their names, and deemed an outcast by her kind. She lamented to him about how she wished she could avenge her village, her family, to enact justice for them.

She listened, too, and learned of how Jim was not of her time. He was from the future, and held the position of Trollhunter, a mantel granted by Merlin to protect Trolls from evil, such as Gunmar and his horde. Merlin? Protecting Trolls? A preposterous thought.

But here was this half-human, half-Troll boy from the future, with a suit of ebony and crimson armor, and she had no choice but to believe. Maybe she, Callista, would be Trollhunter one day, and she would finally be able to bring about the justice she so desired.

And little by little, as the days went on, Jim gave her the tools to bring her justice. He gave her the courage to speak up as he pleaded with Dwoza to help them in the coming war. He gave her status she needed as she helped win the fight against the GummGumm general. He gave her hope as she sat in a crevasse, Amulet in hand, unsure if she was worthy to wield his mantel.

It’s Jim’s, not mine, she thinks, but Jim tells her no, that the mantel is hers. He may be Trollhunter, but he is the future’s Trollhunter. The people back where he comes from need him. She, Callista, is this era’s Trollhunter, and the people of this time need her.

She listens, and he leaves, and before she goes as well, her village gives her one last gift in the form of a carved totem.

She is Deya, and she is the Deliverer, but it was someone else who delivered her, who did her village justice as he gave her her purpose.

So she fights.

After all is said and done, she is visited by a specter of Merlin. He tells her that she, his champion, will have a legacy spanning centuries. Her name will be celebrated by thousands, and she will be remembered by countless others. He tells her that, when she dies, her spirit will live on in a Void Between Worlds. She will serve as a teacher for those who come after, and eventually, for Jim, the boy with eyes like hope, a smile like mercy, and a voice like justice.

So she waits. She fights for justice, and eventually, she is killed by Bular’s sword. It’s morbidly poetic, in a way: she locked away the father, so the son takes her life in retaliation.

The Amulet leaves, and she is reborn in a world of spirits and magic, all cloaked in a blue haze.

Later, she is joined by others: a lean Trollhunter with the affinity for cloning themself to get the edge on enemies, a pacifist Trollhunter with gentle eyes and words, a Trollhunter whose son sought only to make him proud, and many more.

Deya does not tell them about Jim. It’s too soon for them. They know the stories, of course, where a whelp from a distant land inspired the mighty Deya to take up arms against Gunmar and his injustices, but they do not know the true nature of the boy. That is knowledge for her and her alone.

Finally, nine centuries after the great Battle of Killahead, a human is Chosen as Trollhunter for the first time. His eyes shine like a hope not seen in years, his smile bestows mercy upon whomever he graces it with, and his voice rings like a chance for justice.

His name is Jim Lake, Jr., and as he fights, as he wins, Deya watches with a proud gaze. Her title might be “the Deliverer”, but it is he, this human child with the resilience of a Troll, who truly deserves the moniker.

He delivered her, and in turn, she delivered the world.

#trollhunters #toa wizards #toawizards #blinky galadrigal #aaarrrgghh #deya the deliverer #callista #jim lake jr #beans writing

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luvksj · 4 years

Text

Mafia!BIGBANG: Finding You Months After You Had Runaway

[A/N] hello again, I quite like doing these mafia reactions and might try another group who doesn’t have much of these (Super Junior, f(x), SNSD etc) I might not be looking hard enough so send me any reactions you like! Be warned, this is going to be a long reaction/imagine...

Backstory:

After finding out about their occupation, being the brains behind Asia’s biggest mafia gang, you had managed to successfully flee from their grasp since you couldn’t handle being around such violent doings. While they were busy with work, you managed to disappear and find freedom but like they say... nothing last forever.

TOP

You loved your former boyfriend, TOP, with all your heart but his occupation was the reason for your sudden disappearance, taking off in your car while he was dealing with his next victim. Speeding away into freedom and taking shelter in Jeju where a close friend of yours helped you restart again, feeling relieved to be away from such a dangerous criminal wanted by police across the globe. “He’s not here anymore, you are safe.” your friend whispered

The mistake you made, even if you disabled all the trackers and left your phone behind, was getting a job. TOP had connections anywhere and everywhere. He had found your exact location through a connection who spotted you waiting tables inside a local restaurant. Your entire body froze when you walked inside the shared apartment to see TOP comfortably eating a burger. He looked over at you with a blank look while chewing his food.

Once he finished his meal, he looks over at you with a blank stare but you could see the hidden glint of anger, sadness and betrayal floating in those brown orbs. Stalking towards you, he pushes you against the apartment wall while trailing his eyes down his body and lets out a low chuckle, he runs a finger tauntingly down your face.

“Hello baby, I have been waiting so long to see your face again. Why did you runaway from me, huh? Pack your things, we’re leaving NOW.”

Taeyang

Taeyang had always been open to you but the amount of brutality with his job did not go well with your innocent nature, while he was working, you took off without a trace. No note, all your belongings gone and fled to a quaint little village where you started working as a gardener for one of the elderly couples who needed someone to look after their garden. Taeyang did have a lot of connections but no-one would find you here... it’s literally in the middle of nowhere.

For the past two months, you looked after the couple’s garden by weeding it daily, looking after all the produce and even doing some housework for shelter along with a little bit of income. However, your luck ran thin when you were coming back from the vegetable patch to see Taeyang leaning against the shed wearing a VERY wide smirk as his gaze remained firmly on you. How did he find you? You were absolutely certain that no-one knew him or he never knew of this place... it’s practically off the radar.

Dressed in your work clothes, hair sticking to your face from the sweat. He raised an eyebrow as he approached you slowly, watching you quiver from fear. Standing tall amongst your fragile figure, he spent every second of the day hunting for you until someone gave word that you had taken refugee at some farmer’s house and sped there instantly.

“Well, well, well... look who we have here. You have some explaining to do, jagi. Let’s not waste anymore time, go pack your things.”

G-Dragon

It honestly surprised you how you managed to escape the clutches of G-Dragon and flee to another country... for safety reason. You couldn’t go anywhere in Korea since he would have contacts everywhere and needed to be free of him since his job required taking lives and blood... lot’s of blood. During the night, you escaped using a taxi to take you to the airport and flew to Paris, ready to start a new life.

It’s almost six months since you left him and all the ‘mafia’ things back. You got a job as a chef in a famous restaurant due to your love for cooking and baking things. Like they say, nothing last forever and neither did your life in France. The boss of your restaurant said someone wanted to speak to you about your food and the worst feeling pooled in your stomach as you were directed to a hidden table reserved specifically for VIPs.

Once your boss left, the person pulled down the menu card to reveal... G-Dragon. He smiled almost sadistically making your blood run cold as he leans forward giving you a glimpse at his pale complexion, orange hair and lip that had some sort of cut. You could see the anger, betrayal and sadness hidden behind that smile as he holds your hand.

“Why did you leave me jagi? I treated you so well... never mind, at least I found you. Let’s go back home now...”

Daesung

As much as you loved Daesung, you couldn’t stand his occupation despite your many attempts at trying to get over it. The last straw was seeing him come home coated head to toe in blood before you ditched once he fell asleep, hurriedly packing a case and jumping on a late-night bus to anywhere away from him. The bus took you to the airport where you went to Japan.

Nearly three months had passed since you escaped and found a job in the anime business since your passion was drawing cartoon characters. That was your first mistake, Daesung loved anime and your second mistake was thinking Japan was a safe place. Bitch, Daesung had more contacts here than fucking Korea. He always worked with Japanese tycoons or millionaires who wanted protection or money, his contacts spotted you instantly.

Daesung decided to let you have some alone time since he was scheduled for a meeting in Japan. Once he arrived, his contacts were informed to capture you then bring you to him since he had been keeping bars on you and once the bag came off your head to reveal Daesung, your body stopped functioning. He let out a dramatic sigh of relief pretending he had been looking for you for ages but he knew where you were this whole time.

“OH MY GOSH, BABY! I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU, WHY DID YOU RUN OFF?!”

Seungri

Okay, let’s be real, it took a real miracle to escape from this sly bastard. He knew your every move since he was stalking you 25/8. But, you managed to slide from under his fingers and flee during a celebration party for his mafia gang and slipped inside a party guest’s car who was in on your escape plan. Seungri loved his job a bit too much and always throw these lavish banquets when he finally killed off his enemy or successfully stole a national treasure.

You couldn’t live with a thief/murderer so you informed a close contact of yours and she stuffed you in her car before speeding off. For seven months, you had your first taste of many things but the most rewarding thing was freedom from him. You didn’t want to risk getting a job so you became a maid: doing all the housework while she worked. However... Seungri knew something was up with one of his contacts.

One day, you arrived back from a grocery shopping and saw Seungri standing inside the kitchen. All the bags fell from your grasp as he faintly smirked while tilting his head to the side, he had forced answers out of the contact and drove to where you currently resided. Stalking towards you like prey, he knew you had nowhere else to go.

“Did you really think you could escape me, huh? I’m impressed you hid for so long but now I found you and I ain’t letting you go anytime soon...”

#bigbang imagine #bigbang reactions #bigbang scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios

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firstdegreefangirl · 4 years

Text

Eddie Week Day Five: Eddie and His Idiot Husband

Word Count: 2291

Original Pub Date: 19 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz & Christopher Diaz, Eddie Diaz & Abuela

Author's Note: Me? Writing Christmas fic in June? More likely than you think.

Read on ao3 here

Usual suspects: @eddiediazweek @hearteyesforbuck @rebeccaofsbfarm @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly @myemergence

It started out simply enough: Eddie was picking Buck up from the car dealership, taking him to lunch with Christopher while he waited on an oil change. As soon as Buck swung himself up into the truck seat, Chris started giggling.

“What? What’s so funny, little dude?” Buck turns around in the seat to watch him laughing, and Eddie looked up in the rearview mirror to see his son practically doubled over against his seatbelt.

“You-you guys are … you guys are TWINS!” He can hardly get the words out, but as soon as Eddie realizes what he’s said, he glances across the console at Buck

Sure enough, they’re both wearing blue jeans and the same T-shirt: plain black with the LAFD logo on the chest.

It’s an easy coincidence, especially given how many shirts they both have that are identical, city-issued for special events or fundraisers. They’re not technically uniform, but everyone wears them to work, so it only takes a few months to accumulate a pretty big collection.

Eddie can see the moment when Buck realizes what’s happened, and he feels his heart swell at the way his face lights up.

“Well,” Buck exaggerates the way he winks at Eddie, makes sure Christopher can see the gesture, and looks to the backseat again. “One of us is going to have to change.”

It happens again three weeks later, just a couple of days after they take Christopher to the aquarium.

(Eddie had tried to call it a “family day,” but he saw the way Buck squirmed at the notion of being part of a family, of having a family so unlike the one where he grew up, one that does things together, has special days and events for no particular reason.

So he’d dropped it, but knows it’s something that will come up again later, something for them to work on as a family, even if they don’t call it that just yet.)

Because they are a family, and if it weren’t obvious enough, when the got through to the giftshop, Christopher had insisted on a set of three identical Stingray Bay T-shirts to commemorate the occasion. And neither of them have ever been able to tell him no, not for something as simple as that, so Buck had dropped a small fortune on them, insisted on paying after Eddie had bought the ice cream earlier in the day.

Eddie knows he should have seen this coming, should have anticipated that Buck would show up wearing his stingray shirt on Tuesday when they met at the school to surprise Chris with lunch.

Buck does this; every single time Christopher gives him something, he makes a point of showing it off, using it when he knows he’ll be able to see how much Buck loved the gift.

So Eddie should have known he’d pick today to debut the new shirt, should have planned ahead and picked something else, literally anything else, from his closet.

Not that he doesn’t love the idea of matching clothes with Buck, but that he’d at least like to be a little bit more subtle about it than a pair of blue and grey tie-dye swirled T-shirts with bright yellow lettering and a cartoon stingray. He couldn’t possibly be happier than he is when he’s with Buck; the last year and a half have been the best of his life.

But he’d rather show it off with the way they can't stop smiling when they’re together, the way they’re constantly touching, always seeking each other out. It’s a quieter, more honest demonstration of their relationship.

But there’s not much he can do about it when he meets Buck out front of the building and they’re both wearing the shirts. It’s not like he has a closet in his truck with extra clothes, so all he can do is grin and bear it.

It’s worth it though, for the way Buck pulls his sunglasses down and whistles as Eddie approaches.

“Nice shirt, babe. Where’d you get it?”

“Just this place I know.” Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. “My kid picked it out, and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen bought it for me.”

“Oh, a hot guy? Should I be jealous?” Buck laughs and pulls the door open, settling his hand low on Eddie’s back as he kisses him gently and walks into the building.

“Only because I’m the one holding the French fries, and you know how Chris picks his favorite dad for the day.”

A month later, Eddie starts a massive load of laundry before he gets dressed for work, having put it off for long enough that he knows it’ll probably need two cycles in the dryer. Only after the machine had started filling with water did he realize that he hadn’t remembered to set aside the least-dirty shirt in the pile so he had something to wear into the station.

Which leaves him scrambling to find a shirt, any shirt he can wear until he gets to work and puts his uniform on. There’s one left, stuck way at the back of his drawer.

It’s the very epitome of a Laundry Day shirt, covered in garish black and white stripes. In one of his finer moments as a father, Eddie had let Christopher rope him into dressing up as a zebra for the station Halloween party so he could be a zookeeper.

(There had been no need to rope Buck in. In fact, the whole thing had been Buck’s idea, after he’d gone with Chris on the field trip to the zoo and sat next to him while they watched the zebra feeding.)

The costume had been great, he has to admit. But as soon as the party was over, the shirt went to the back of the drawer, waiting for yardwork season.

Or, laundry day.

Reluctantly, he pulls the shirt over his head and hopes that he’s running late enough to make it into the locker room before anyone sees him.

But why would that go in his favor when nothing else this morning has? Eddie has just made it into the station when he collides with a black and white striped blur.

“What? Ed—” Buck steadies them both and looks Eddie up and down, checking for any injuries. “I leave you alone for one night, and you hardly make it to work on—”

Eddie watches his face as Buck realizes which shirt he’s wearing, and he’s sure it must match his own expression when he sees the same garment pulled taut across Buck’s chest.

“—time.” Buck finishes, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be running late if someone hadn’t insisted on ‘saying goodbye’ before he went home last night.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and Buck flushes at the memory of how … thorough … his parting kiss had been. “Could’ve had the laundry in the machine last night, maybe even had a regular shirt to wear today.”

“I’ll have you know that I happen to think this is an excellent shirt on you.” Buck runs his hand up Eddie’s torso to wrap his fingers over his shoulders.

“Mm, there’s no way it looks better than yours does.” Eddie mirrors the gesture with a smirk. “You know my excuse; why’d you pick it out?”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting Buck to say, knows it’s nothing to do with seeing Chris since he’s at a sleepover after school tonight. But Buck still manages to surprise him when he shrugs, and responds like he’s saying the most obvious thing in the world.

“Couldn’t decide if I wanted to wear a white shirt or a black shirt today. So, both.” With his free hand, he waves up and down his body.

Eddie’s got a response all ready to go, is ready to watch the look on Buck’s face when he asks why he didn’t just split the difference and wear grey, but before he can say anything, Hen rounds the corner and bursts out laughing.

“OK,” She gasps out when she’s finally able to control her chuckles again. “Are you two only going to wear clothes from Christopher from now on? Because I’m telling you both, that is a mistake. He’s a cute kid, but the fashion doesn’t translate well to grown men.”

Neither of them respond, and she walks away after a few moments, calling out for Chimney, who “isn’t going to believe what these idiots managed today!” Once she’s gone, they look at each other and smile.

“Laundry day?”

“Only way I was going to have a shirt for tomorrow that doesn’t have the style sense of a nine-year-old.”

After that, the spell seems to be broken, whatever wardrobe-wavelength he and Buck were on shifted far enough that they’re dressing independently again.

Before Eddie knows it, there’s a chill in the air – as much as there ever is in LA – and he and Buck are taking Christopher back to the mall to see Santa again.

This year, there’s nothing stopping him from leaning against Buck while they wait in line, no reason for Buck not to tuck three of his fingers into the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans.

While they’re waiting for Chris to come back out of the little cardboard village house, something catches Eddie’s eye in the window of the nearby department store. He turns to face Buck, putting just enough distance between them for Buck’s hand to drop back to his own side.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Long as that kid’s list is, you’ll still be waiting, but if not, meet you guys right here?”

“Sure.” Buck smiles, clearly unconcerned as Eddie walks away. He doesn’t waste any time, quickly finds what he’s looking for and waits in a miraculously short pre-Christmas line to check out and join Buck back in the winter wonderland.

He sits the paper gift bag by their feet, rebuffs Buck’s attempts to find out what’s inside.

“Would you be patient?” But he’s smiling as he nudges Buck away from him. “You’ll find out in … 18 days.”

“Fine.” Buck rolls his eyes. “But I’m not telling you what your present is either.”

Eddie picks up a few other things along the way, loves nothing more than spoiling Buck when he has the chance, but there’s no gift he’s more excited about than the one from the mall. It had been such a hit last year that the 118 decides to celebrate en masse again, so he slips the presents into a large box and slides it into the bed of his truck before making sure Christopher's ready to go.

They make it through dinner and two rounds of presents before Eddie can’t wait any longer. When it’s Buck’s turn to unwrap something again, Eddie passes him a slim, flat package.

“Open this one. You’ve waited patiently enough.”

He watches closely as Buck peels away the paper and shakes the box to reveal a silk necktie the exact same color as his eyes. He beams at Eddie, then gasps and stands up in a hurry.

“Bobby! Eddie needs to open the next gift!”

“Why? He gets to go again in two turns.” Bobby, ever the father figure, has been keeping track, making sure everything is handled diplomatically. Buck steps carefully through the children spread out in the middle of the floor, making his way across the room to whisper something in Bobby’s ear. His eyes widen as he considers whatever case it is that Buck’s making, and he nods. “Alright, I think we can make an exception just this once. Go get your present, son.”

He bounds across the room and fishes a tiny, firecracker-shaped package from underneath the tree then tosses it to Eddie.

“Your turn, honeybunches.” The over-the-top pet name elicits eye rolls from around the room – Eddie included – and Buck grins as he settles himself back in the seat beside him.

Eddie turns the present over in his hand, tries to figure out what Buck might have come up with that would be shaped like this. Finally, he gives up on trying to guess and just pulls the ribbon loose at one end, folds the wrapping back to reveal –

An identical blue necktie.

Maddie puts it together first, claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her delighted squeal.

“You bought me … your necktie?” Eddie holds it up, trying to gauge if they really are the same shade of blue.

“No. Well, yes, I did. But that wasn’t … I didn’t know you’d bought one for me. You just always look at things this color when we’re at the mall, so I figured you must like it.”

“It’s my favorite color,” Eddie replies, his voice thick with quiet wonder. “It matches your eyes.”

On Maddie’s other side, Chimney leans in to stage-whisper, loud enough for the whole group to hear. “Gee, wonder why it’s his favorite. Could it be? Do you think? Nah …"

She swats his arm and he yelps, but stops talking.

“Your favorite color … is my eyes?”

“Yeah, they’re ... blue.” There are a million other thoughts going through Eddie’s head, moving so fast that he can’t pin any one of them down enough to elaborate.

He looks up from the tie, stares into Buck’s eyes and marvels at how a ribbon of fabric was able to match the color so perfectly. As Christmas gifts go, a necktie is pretty unremarkable, but Eddie knows right away that he’ll treasure this one forever.

As the party goes on around them, Eddie’s mind wanders to the little velvet box in his pocket.

Maybe just once, he and Buck can plan to coordinate their outfits, right down to matching neckties.

#eddie diaz week #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #buddie #911 #911 fox #911 fanfic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fox #9-1-1 fanfic #buddie fanfic #katie writes #kw20 #originalcontentfirstdegreefangirl

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daeva-agas · 3 years

Video

youtube

When even the dude who gets a lot of flak for buying into the ninjer woowoo tells you your ninjas are bad, LMAO... Your ninja woo woo babble must be SUPER woo woo to the nth degree hahahah...

ALSO NOBUNAGA THROWING A TANTRUM OVER THE NINJAS AHAHHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHA

NOT EVEN SHALL WE DATE’S NOBU THREW A TANTRUM LIKE THIS AHAHAHHHAHAHA AND HE WAS MADE TO BE THIS RIDICULOUS CARTOON VILLAIN AHAHHHAHHAHAH

Yeeah, so, Antony Cummins (the person talking in the video) is considered a bit whacky about the ninja. Even if he goes with a more “realistic”/sensible approach, the whole big spying network lalala is at best fuzzy. He used to be really REALLY bad, but he’s gotten a bit better since.

Like, I disagree on his whole ramble about how Iga people “specialize” in espionage. I would believe they were forced to run guerrilla methods due to lack of manpower and such, in defending the region, but they don’t specialize in sneaky things and then send “secret agents” all over the country. The way he talks about Iga rebuilding, he says the ‘scattered” agents all went home, like WTF, what the hell were they even doing out there in the first place? But I’m surprised. I actually agree on a lot of things with this dude.

Yes, Iga people farm and is basically just like any other village. They have some sort of government structure overseeing them, and not just this big rabble of peasants just living harmoniously all kumbaya on their own. What is the rulership is a bit fuzzy. Japanese wiki is favouring the “council of elders” (I’m seeing different numbers for the members, there was 12 and there were 6) when they talk about the Tensho Iga War. I haven’t really figured out whether the “three great clans” thing is a myth outright, or if they exist alongside the Council. Cummins here say that Momochi was a later-date insertion.

Shinchoukouki has mentions of the Iga and Koga being part of enemy rabbles, so yeah, they may have at a point worked as some sort of mercenary groups to neighbouring clans. Much like how the Saika can get hired out to do some shooting. Doesn’t mean the Saika were this big band of hobos living in the tents or something either, see? Same with Iga and Koga. They have a proper village and such. Maybe not a castle, if the council system is true. Some has suggested the council meets at a temple, so the organization might be rather similar to temple-town sort of society like Honganji rather than a typical samurai castle-town.

#netflix #age of samurai #age of samurai battle for japan

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myaekingheart · 4 years

Text

104. Seijo Seika

Anata wo ikebana ni shite shimaimaseu Itsumo soba ni ite itadakemasu yo ni Anata wo ikebana ni shite shimaimaseu Soto no kaze ni taorarete shimawanu yo -Seijo Seika, Kazuhiko Inoue

So this was it: twenty six. Rei furrowed her brows as sunlight poured through the windows, feeling around for her fiancé. She swallowed back the lump in her throat as the realization hit her: he was already gone. Of course. With a groan, Rei buried her head beneath her pillow and cocooned herself even further into the blankets. As if she hadn’t already been tempted enough to isolate for the day. There was no point in celebrating without Kakashi.

A part of her cursed Tsunade for even assigning him to a mission on her birthday but Rei knew it really couldn’t be helped. One cannot will the ninja world to stop turning whenever they feel like it. Besides, it wasn’t like she care to make a big spectacle of her birthday anyway. What part of getting old was even worth celebrating? It’s just another year closer to death. Rei’s fingers involuntarily twitched against the pale scars lining her forearm. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and willed herself back to sleep.

Within a matter of seconds, however, Toshio shook the mattress as he jolted toward the bedroom door. Rei watched as he scratched at the carpet and barked incessantly. Clanking and banging echoed from the kitchen. Perfect. Just how she wanted to start her day: with a home invasion. Who the hell even broke into someone’s house at 8am? Rei didn’t have time to wonder. In a flash, she grabbed the kunai from her nightstand and ripped the blankets back. The knob slowly turned. The door creaked open. Rei was suddenly highly aware of the fact that she was wearing no pants. With a battle cry, she launched her kunai straight for her opponent’s head.

Kakashi’s eyes widened as he ducked just in time. The knife just barely missed his head, whizzing past his ear to stick in the living room wall. Plates and silverware clanked as he attempted to steady the tray of food in his hands. “I thought you did your killing after breakfast!” he exclaimed with a hint of exasperation. Toshio happily gobbled up a stray piece of fruit that had rolled onto the floor, his previous defense vanishing.

Rei stammered as she tried to form the proper questions. Why are you here? What happened to your mission? Is something wrong? Did you get fired? The confusion on her face was almost tangible.

“My assignment got cancelled at the last minute” Kakashi explained, sitting on the edge of the bed. He placed the tray before her with a soft smile. He had really outdone himself: fluffy tomagoyaki, fresh fruit glistening with juice, toast dripping in silky butter and honey, and her favorite pastries, flaky and fruity and drizzled with glaze. Steam wafted lazily up from a cup of green tea, the warmth of which was perfect for a March morning such as this. “So it looks like I can spend your birthday with you after all” he added happily.

Rei could hardly contain her joy. She leapt forward, wrapping her arms around him with a laugh. Kakashi abruptly reached out to steady the tray, the mattress rocking with her movement. That was twice now that he nearly lost all of his hard work. “You better eat before a meteor crashes into your breakfast” he jested. He glanced to Toshio begging at the side of the bed before adding, “Third time’s a charm.”

Rei could hardly keep the smile off her face as she leaned back and started on her eggs. Perhaps her birthday wasn’t going to be so dreadful after all. She watched as Kakashi carefully shifted so as to sit cross-legged before her. God, he was so cute. “I hope you didn’t leave the house looking like you do” she joked, sipping her tea. “Forgetting the mask is like the equivalent of walking around naked for you.”

Kakashi chuckled and shook his head. “Are you trying to tell me something?” he smirked. “Because I can take my pants off if you want.”

“Ooh, breakfast and a show?” Rei replied. She poked at his thigh with her chopstick and giggled.

“Well, it is your day” Kakashi replied. “You’re in charge.”

“That’s dangerous” Rei laughed, taking another bite of her food.

“Why? What did you have in mind?” Kakashi asked. “Tightrope walking on telephone poles? Hunting down rogue shinobi?”

Rei shook her head. “Not even close.”

“So what do you want to do for your birthday, then?”

Sucking in a deep breath, a small smile crept onto Rei’s lips as she looked him dead in the eyes and replied, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Kakashi gave a single, definitive nod then as he affirmed, “Alright, then. Nothing it is.” He grinned wide as she leaned over the tray to kiss him. They both knew that nothing really meant anything. That nothing was a simple promise of possibility, a liberation from obligation. The ability to do whatever you damn well pleased when you pleased to do it. That was the kind of birthday Rei had always preferred—to not be tethered by the dullness of parties and people but rather to live unhindered for once in her life. No rules, no responsibilities. Just pure, absolute freedom.

As she finished her food, Kakashi cuddled up beside her and pulled the book from her nightstand. The pages were yellowed, the edges jagged, and the cover was nearly falling off of the shoddy spine. Rei watched suspiciously as he flipped through it, wondering if he was judging her for her literary tastes. As if he was one to talk. Before she could question him on it, however, he flipped to where her bookmark was and began reading aloud. At first she thought he was mocking her—the way he read had so much personality, so much depth of voice—but it was clear in his facial expressions and body language that his intent was quite the opposite. He wrapped his free arm around her as she snuggled against his chest, picking apart the pastry as she listened to his narration. Toshio had since reclaimed his spot at the foot of the bed, resting his heavy head on Rei’s calves. She reached down to scratch behind his ear and he sighed contentedly. In a moment like this, suddenly that bright sunlight that awoke her wasn’t so unwelcome anymore. Instead it bathed everything in a warm and cozy hue, every edge highlighted with an angelic glow. It took all of her strength to not fall back asleep. This must be what heaven is like, she thought to herself.

Once she was finished eating, Kakashi set the book aside and carried the tray of empty plates back to the kitchen. Rei watched him through the doorway, catching the faint notes of a song that felt familiar but she couldn’t quite name. Anata wa ikebana ni shite shimaima seu, itsuma sobe ni ite itadakemasu yo ni, anata wo ikebana ni shite shimaimaseu, soto no kaze ni taorarete shimawanu yo…

His calming voice yet again nearly put her to sleep. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt her head slowly fall back onto her pillow, only for her to snap herself awake. After three close calls, she peeled the covers back and slithered into the bathroom. The sound of water rushing from the showerhead nearly drowned out Kakashi’s voice completely and for a moment, Rei genuinely regretted it. But then the door creaked open and there he was, leaning against the doorway. “Need some help?” he asked. Rei’s cheeks burned. She could never say no.

He drew her oversized t-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, then hooked a finger into the waist of her underwear. He paused a moment there, smiling down at the cartoon dogs on the fabric. To think: an elite ninja like her, with a high kill count to boot, wearing such cute—and, dare he say, childish—panties. He chuckled before sliding them down her thighs and watching her kick them into the corner. He undressed himself as she stepped into the shower, testing the water temperature with her foot and then curving herself around the stream so as to adjust the knob accordingly.

“You know” she said, watching him tug the curtain closed as he joined her, “Didn’t you already get a shower this morning?”

Kakashi simply shrugged and replied, “There was never any harm in being clean.” Then, with a slight smile, he added, “Besides, it’s nicer when it’s with you.” He rested his hands on her hips and rubbed her sides, then brushed her hair back as she tilted her head under the showerhead. He lathered shampoo into her hair and kissed her shoulders as he soaped her body up. His fingers traced her scars and caressed her cheek. And when she wasn’t looking, he’d open his mouth beneath the showerhead so as to squirt her in the face when she turned back around. She would blow soap bubbles at him in retaliation only to be captured by his strong embrace seconds afterward, both of them hunching over in uproarious laughter.

As they dried off and got dressed, Kakashi approached the window and surveyed the village below. It was truly a beautiful day with the clearest of skies and cherry blossoms like cotton candy lining the streets. “We should take advantage of the cherry blossoms before they disappear” he said wistfully.

“You think so?” Rei asked, shaking her hair dry like a dog. She considered the idea for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I think that would be nice. I’m sure Toshio would appreciate a long walk anyways.”

The minute the word walk fell from her lips, Toshio’s ears perked up. They made eye contact for a split second before he leapt to his feet and began circling her excitedly, barking and jumping. Kakashi watched as she tried to simultaneously calm him and slip into her sweater, but her head got stuck in a sleeve and Toshio was only growing more excited by the minute.

“You might want to choose your words more carefully next time” he joked, attempting to redirect Toshio into the living room. The dog immediately went to the front door, stamping his feet and whimpering impatiently. Rei wiggled and writhed before her head popped out of the appropriate hole, her hair frizzy and face flushed. She stuck her tongue out at Kakashi playfully before rushing to slip on her sandals. The moment Kakashi opened the door, Toshio booked it down the hallway, spotted tongue flapping out of the side of his mouth as he went. Rei and Kakashi locked eyes and laughed before chasing after him.

Konoha felt so peaceful and warm. Children raced and laughed in the streets as cherry blossoms floated leisurely on the breeze. Rei intertwined her fingers with Kakashi’s as they walked along, Toshio strolling ahead of them to sniff every tree trunk and bark at every passerby. The sweet smell of spring hung in the air.

“So now that we’re out” Kakashi started, “Is there anything special you want to do?”

Rei shook her head. “Not particularly” she replied. “Why? Is there anything special that you want to do?”

Kakashi chuckled and replied, “Like I said earlier, it’s your day so you call the shots.”

Cocking her brow, Rei gazed back at him suspiciously. “But…?” she asked.

Of course she could see right through him. Sighing, he replied, “But there is one thing I think we should do while we’re here.” Rei had been so enthralled with the ambiance of the village that she had scarcely realized what direction they were walking in. The two of them stopped outside of a row of shops, the largest of which had a green awning and displays of new publications outside.

“Oh no, absolutely not” Rei said, shaking her head and recoiling. The last thing she needed was to see her parents today. They were always so weird on her birthday—so passive aggressive and sentimental. Another year where you haven’t been killed. An excuse to convince her to quit her job.

Kakashi frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sure they would be really disappointed if you didn’t at least stop in to say hello” he replied. “After all, they did give you life.”

“Yeah, and they’ve spent every waking moment of it trying to tell me what to do” Rei fired back. “I just want one day where their bullshit doesn’t hang over my head. Is that too much to ask?”

“I suppose not” Kakashi sighed. He toed the ground before turning to walk in the opposite direction, muttering in sing-song, “Though I’m sure Grandma Teiko will be really sad you didn’t stop by.”

Rei pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as he glanced at her over his shoulder. He knew her weaknesses all too well. After a moment’s stalemate, Rei threw her head back with a groan, grabbed Kakashi by the wrist, and stomped inside Kaminoki. “Just know I’m only doing this for Grandma Teiko” she muttered under her breath. And really, that was all Kakashi needed.

Hana was checking out a customer when Rei and Kakashi slipped inside, the bell above the door signalling their arrival. A wide grin spread across her face as she hurried the young man out of the store and then rushed to her daughter with arms open wide. “I’m so glad you stopped by!” Hana cooed, hugging her daughter close. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, mom” Rei muttered. She could feel her mother’s cheeks grow hot and her chest rising and falling unevenly to alert of impending tears.

Hana sniffled and leaned back, brushing the long bangs out of Rei’s face. You shouldn’t hide your pretty face, she always said. A bittersweet smile touched Hana’s lips. “I can’t believe you’re already twenty six” she croaked. “It feels like just yesterday I was pushing you out of my—”

“Okay, mom! That’s enough!” Rei interrupted, her face turning bright red. Kakashi couldn’t help but chuckle, earning him a sharp glare from his fiancée. The faster they got this over with, the better. “So, uh, where’s Dad and Grandma Teiko?” Rei asked.

Hana and Kakashi locked eyes for a moment, the Copy Ninja giving a single nod. “Your father” Hana started, skirting around the checkout counter, “is upstairs doing what he always does.” She knelt down and began rummaging around in the counter drawers. Toshio leapt up onto his hind legs to sniff around the countertop, hoping for treats.

“What a surprise” Rei rolled her eyes. She reached out to take Kakashi’s hand in hers, a silent plea for support, before abruptly adding, “Well if you guys are busy, I certainly don’t want to hold you up!” She patted her thigh for Toshio to come.

“No, really! It’s fine!” Hana exclaimed. She reached across the counter to take Rei’s free hand in hers, a pelading smile touching her lips. “Please, you only just got here. At least go upstairs and say hello.”

Rei blinked, instantly suspicious. She began fearing balloons and banners and birthday cake awaiting her. “O-okay…” she stammered quietly.

Hana glanced to Kakashi before motioning toward the back door. “I’ll be up in a minute!”

Rei squeezed Kakashi’s hand as he urged her to go first. The staircase was so rickety and narrow, they could really only go single file. Toshio followed close behind, close enough for Rei to keep her hand atop his head as they ascended. A lump rose in her throat and her hands felt shaky and numb. The further they went, the more compelled she felt to rush back downstairs and bolt out the front door or jump out of the nearest window.

Quiet muttering echoed from behind the door as Rei reached the top of the stairs. Her hand hesitated on the knob, shaky and unsure. Toshio nudged the back of her leg in encouragement before Rei sucked in a deep breath and stepped inside.

Her eyes immediately landed on Grandma Teiko. Crouched down in the kitchen, she hummed a familiar tune as she pulled a small cake from the oven. A single strand of wrinkled crepe paper hung wistfully across the doorway and there was a small stack of presents in the corner. “Well, if that’s not perfect timing” Teiko chuckled, turning her gaze to her granddaughter.

Rei shook her head and laughed in disbelief. This was exactly what she had feared and yet, because it was Grandma Teiko, she couldn’t even be mad about it.

“Your mother wanted to do more but I told her ‘now listen, Rei doesn’t like anything fancy so you better dial it back’” Teiko explained. Rei watched as she skirted around the counter and began setting out small ceramic plates and colorful napkins. “Now if I was in charge of all of this, I wouldn’t have done anything more than a single pastry with one candle and no decorations but you know how your mother is.” There was a twinkle in her eyes, a shared understanding between the two of them. At least someone was sane. Rei had never been more grateful for Grandma Teiko.

As they chatted, Kakashi slipped inside quietly. Rei glanced at him over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of something hidden behind his back. Hana followed close behind. “You really didn’t need to do all of this” Rei commented, looking to her mother.

Hana smiled softly and shook her head. “Yes I did” she commented. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t celebrate the day that made me one? I’m just grateful you’re happy and healthy and can celebrate your birthday to begin with.” Rei winced at the sentiment. Though vague and slightly underhanded, she knew exactly what her mother meant: another year you haven’t gotten yourself killed. Before anything more could be said, Grandma Teiko hobbled into the office to retrieve Rei’s father.

Rei huffed her bangs out of her face and sunk down onto the living room couch. “So I guess we’re doing the whole nine yards here? Offkey singing and shiny wrapping paper included?” she asked.

Kakashi settled beside her and rested a hand on her knee. “We’ll sing extra loud so the nieghbors can hear” he jested. Rei grimaced and playfully punched him in the arm, eliciting nothing but laughter from her fiancé. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, but this only emphasized the fact that he was still hiding something behind his back. As she leaned nearer, she peered around to try to sneak a peek but it was no use. Kakashi blocked her attempt with a cheeky grin, the kind that silently whispered not so fast. Rei frowned and leaned back in defeat with arms crossed. She was so cute when she was pouty, Kakashi couldn’t help himself from kissing the tip of her nose through his mask. He loved how deeply she blushed from the surprise affection, especially in front of her parents.

Yuruganai trudged into the room just in time, gagging at the sight of such public displays. “Save it for the bedroom” he grumbled, sinking down into his favorite armchair. Hana cupped her hand over her mouth, her face bright red, as she tried to avoid the thought of her daughter’s relationship being anything other than puritanical.

“Let the kids have their fun!” Grandma Teiko exclaimed. She turned off all the lights as Hana finished icing the cake and set it upon the coffee table. She lit the candles and then guided everyone in singing Happy Birthday.

Of all the traditions Rei had to suffer through, the singing was probably the one she hated the most. Everything about it was hell: the volume, the melodic dissonance, being the center of attention. She clenched her jaw a little too tightly when she smiled, tightening her grip on Kakashi’s hand. Toshio howled along imperfectly.

The cake was phenomenal, per usual. It was Hana’s secret recipe, the one she used for everyone’s birthdays. Her cooking always delivered even if Rei could’ve done without the globs of icing. Toshio licked a dollop from Rei’s finger as she asked, “So what kinds of presents does twenty six get me? Crippling debt? Crotch goblins? Angina?”

Grandma Teiko snorted. “That’s not until twenty nine” she corrected. She reached into the pile of presents and handed over a small box wrapped in red foil. Rei took it gratefully and carefully unwrapped it to find a small handpainted flowerpot. “For the chakra plants” Teiko elaborated.

From her mother, she received a packet of wildflower seeds—“To match the flowerpot” she said—and a new cardigan she had found at the boutique around the corner. Her father gifted her a paperweight that was just as dull and unsuspecting as one would imagine. And then it was Kakashi’s turn.

Rei cocked an eyebrow and said in fake suspicion, “Now what else could you have possibly gotten me?” She held up her left ring finger to emphasize her point. And really, what more could she ask for when he had already pledged his commitment to her?

“Oh” Kakashi said in quiet, mock disappointment. “Then I guess you don’t want this after all.” Here, he finally revealed the package he had been hiding behind his back. “Such a shame. I really thought you were going to like it, too.”

“Well, seeing as you went to all that trouble…” Rei replied sheepishly, before quickly turning and reaching her hands out, demanding “Gimme!”

Kakashi handed the present over mercifully, watching with a careful eye as she set it in her lap. Wrapped in unassuming parchment, Rei knew immediately that it was a book. She was careful not to tear too violently through the paper as if it was a precious treasure that must be handled as such. Her breath hitched in her throat as the cover began to reveal itself.

“Kakashi, you didn’t” she gasped, looking at him in questionable disbelief. It was a leatherbound first edition of her favorite book, the very same one he had read aloud to her earlier, in mint condition. “This must have cost you a fortune.”

“We all pitched in” Hana chimed.

“I’ve been in contact with a seller in Amegakure who claimed he had one” Yuruganai replied. “Traded him for ten shipments of the newest Icha Icha crap. Apparently it’s super popular over there.” Yuruganai scrunched his face up in disgust at the thought.

Rei traced the embossing on the cover, admiring the detailed tree branches and frolicking fantasy creatures. “You guys really outdid yourselves” she whispered, smiling. “Thank you for this.”

Grandma Teiko hobbled over and pulled Rei into a tight hug with her free arm. “It was really no trouble” she said. “But I will say I should get some credit for coming up with the idea.”

“You would understand the trouble if you had to correspond with Amegakure” Yuruganai muttered. His tone seeped with underlying disdain for the Rain Village’s politics.

Kakashi took Rei’s hand in his and added, “This doesn’t mean you have to get rid of the old copy, by the way.” He brushed the bangs out of her face and smiled. “I know how sentimental your original is for you.”

“I didn’t get that impression at all—that this was supposed to be a replacement” Rei assured. “If anything, I’m happy to have two! A sentimental one and a fancy one.” For a split second, the thought of settling down to read from the new copy with her future children flickered in the back of her mind and Rei grew suddenly woozy. She rested a hand upon Toshio’s head, who was vying for more icing, in an attempt to steady her thoughts.

“So, do you two have plans tonight?” Hana asked over her shoulder, carrying the dirty dishes to the sink. “If you’re not doing anything, you should stay for dinner.”

Rei, still slightly unhinged, glanced to Kakashi and it was clear the sirens were sounding in her head. “Actually” Kakashi stepped in, “we already made dinner plans with some friends.”

“Oh” Hana said, slightly dejected. “Okay then. I hope you both have fun. Perhaps if it’s not too late, you can stop by for tea and dessert instead?”

“We’ll, uh, we’ll think about it, Mom” Rei replied. “But thank you.” Despite the formality, her and Hana were both well aware that if she was meeting up with Sekkachi, Rei was going to be shit-faced drunk by the end of the night. Another matter Hana did not want to think about.

“Let Rei enjoy her birthday” Teiko shouted into the kitchen. “After all, you’re only young once!”

“Yes, but you also only have one family” Hana added, slightly peeved.

Grandma Teiko chuckled. “Not if you get a jump on procreation” she replied, winking at her granddaughter. Rei’s face turned bright red, forcing a polite smile as she swallowed back her anxiety.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck nervously, adding, “Let’s take one thing at a time.” He panned the room to find Yuruganai shaking his head and rising to his feet, evidently done with the whole conversation. The mood was fizzling out. That was their cue.

By the time they left, it was nearly sunset. Rei burst out into the street and keeled over with hands on her knees, gasping for breath. “Thank god that’s over with” she sighed.

“That suffocating, huh?” Kakashi chuckled. Deep down, he hated to admit that he felt it, too. Rei’s parents may have given him their blessing for the engagement but he knew full well the reservations they still held toward him. Feelings like that are, unfortunately, not so easily shaken.

Rei puffed out her cheeks and nodded with wide eyes, hands firmly on her hips. Toshio nudged her hand, licking whatever sugary residue still clung to her fingertips. “Let’s go” she said after catching her breath, motioning for them to follow. “I need to try and salvage whatever’s left of the day before I lose my goddamn mind.”

Kakashi trotted to catch up with her, readjusting the canvas bag of her gifts on his shoulder. “So what else would you like to do then?” he asked. They walked along the winding pathway through the park. Old men sat at the lake’s shore fishing and reminiscing, parents carried sleepy toddlers in their arms. A family of ducks travelled downstream, their quacks echoing off the water’s surface.

“I don’t know” Rei sighed. It was clear she was steadily growing overwhelmed with her own thoughts. “Something distracting, I guess. What was that thing you said about dinner plans with friends? Is that actually a thing or did you just pull that excuse out of your ass?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Guy had suggested we get together tonight, and I did mention that takeout place you like” he replied. The thought of her favorite greasy fast food immediately put Rei in a brighter mood.

“I would love that” she abruptly replied.

Smiling, Kakashi gave Rei’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Alright then, takeout it is.” Despite the promise of such simplicity, it was clear to Kakashi that there was still something bothering her. When Rei smiled back at him, he could tell she was tense and preoccupied. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“What? Yeah! Of course!” Rei lied. Kakashi narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It took all of ten seconds for Rei to crack. “I mean, I don’t know, seeing my parents just kinda kicked my ass” she admitted.

“Was there something that I missed?” he asked. “What did they say? Or do?”

Sighing, Rei shook her head. She was too scared to bring up all the overbearing thoughts in her head. If she could even formulate them into words in the first place, that is. “It’s really nothing” she insisted. “The whole thing just gave me a lot to think about.”

“Like what?” Kakashi asked. “If something is bothering you, you need to tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“Okay…” Rei said slowly, cautiously. She raked her bangs back and tried to prepare herself. “I mean, I guess part of it just has to do with how I’m still trying to adjust to the fact that we’re engaged, you know? And our future, I mean—”

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud splash interrupted the conversation. The couple whipped around to find none other than Toshio paddling toward the center of the lake.

“Toshio, what the hell are you doing?!” Rei shouted after him, but it was useless. If he could hear her, it was clear he had chosen to ignore her. Rei watched as he swam nearer to the family of ducks, correctly predicting exactly what was to happen next. Sighing, she rubbed her temples as the birds squawked and scattered.

Kakashi couldn’t resist laughing. He should’ve expected as much. “Well, they don’t call him a retriever for nothing” he jested.

“Very funny” Rei sighed.

Once Toshio returned, he dropped the duck at Rei’s feet and grinned happily, spotted tongue lopping out of the side of his mouth. Rei lifted the duck up by the neck with her index and thumb, cringing. The bird hung lifelessly in her grasp.

“At least he thought to get you a present” Kakashi laughed. “Happy birthday, here’s a dead duck!”

“Well, I guess we have a backup plan for dinner tonight” Rei replied. Then, smirking to her fiancé, she asked, “Do you know how to make duck a l’orange?” Toshio, apparently pleased with the idea, barked joyfully and spun in circles so quickly his tail whacked him in the face. Kakashi and Rei smiled at each other before they both erupted into fits of hysterical laughter.

Tubes of various colored lipstick and palettes of eyeshadow littered the bathroom counter. Rei stared intently at her reflection, her features a jigsaw puzzle disassembled and strange. The harsh vanity lights highlighted every imperfection: the freckles dotting her shoulders, the depth of the scar across the bridge of her nose, the thickness of her eyebrows and her uneven smile and her frizzy copper hair. For a moment, she didn’t even recognize herself. She gripped the edge of the bathroom counter and sucked in a deep breath. If she wasn’t careful, she was certain she was going to be sick. Perhaps going out wasn’t such a good idea after all. The weight of her own intrusive thoughts would surely prevent her from enjoying herself. Her eyes skated down to the ring on her finger, the way the pearl caught the light, and she shuddered. The future was so big and blinding and intimidating.

“Rei? Are you okay in there?” Kakashi called from the other side of the door. Rei jolted, his voice snapping her from her silent breakdown.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine!” she shouted back. It was clear to Kakashi, however, that she was not, in fact, fine.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Um, I mean…w-why?” she asked back.

Kakashi chuckled uneasily under his breath. “Because we only have one bathroom” he replied. Rei, suddenly feeling very stupid, creaked the door open. He slipped past her, casually unzipping his pants so he could go to the bathroom. She tried to ignore his presence and make herself look busy, shuffling through her five different tubes of lipstick in an effort to look busy. Anything to avoid suspicion. Not that Kakashi wasn’t suspicious already, because he was. “You’re taking a while to get ready” he commented.

“Yeah, and what about it?” Rei snapped, whipping around to shoot him a sharp glare. Kakashi blinked as his trickle slowed to a halt, zipping his pants up. It took her all of two seconds to realize she had made a terrible mistake. Rei’s face turned bright red and she dropped her eyes to the floor, muttering “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Rei” Kakashi said, voice firm. For a moment, she was certain he was angry with her. He approached and placed his hands on her shoulders, willed her to look up at him. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Rei chewed her bottom lip and nodded hesitantly. “Y-yeah, I’m just…I guess I’m just kind of tense and stressed or something.” She knew she didn’t sound convincing. She couldn’t bring herself to try any harder. Her energy for such things was rapidly depleting.

Kakashi dropped his hands and approached the sink, turning on the water and pumping soap onto his palm. “You’ve been kind of off ever since we visited your parents. Did something happen that I don’t know about?” he asked. She watched him lather the soap on his hands, the way the bubbles caught the light and filled the sink. They popped and crackled as Kakashi rinsed his hands and then reached for the towel. “I know how stressful seeing them always is for you. I’m sorry if you’re upset that I insisted we drop in in the first place.”

“N-no, it’s not that at all!” she assured him. “I could never be mad at you for that.” She knew how important family was to him. It was so easy to cherish what you no longer have. Sighing, Rei sank down onto the edge of the tub. “I just wish my family didn’t make me think about things I don’t have the guts to face yet.”

“Like what?” Kakashi asked. He crouched down in front of her and brushed the hair back out of her face. Rei couldn’t bring herself to look at him and in her silence, he connected the dots on his own. “Is this about what they said about having kids?” he asked.

Rei’s face paled and she coughed on her own saliva. “Well—I just—I mean…” she stammered. When she couldn’t bring herself to produce any more words, she groaned and drew her knees up to her chest, nearly falling into the tub in the process. Kakashi reached out and caught her, stifling a laugh as he pulled her close. “Kakashi…” Rei sighed. She buried her face in his sleeve. “I’m just scared. I don’t know what it is. It just feels like there’s all this pressure, like there’s so much ahead of us and it’s…it’s daunting. I don’t know what to do.”

“I know” Kakashi whispered. He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I feel like birthdays always bring out the sentimentalist in people. It’s so easy to get caught up in these ideas about family and the future, and about what you should accomplish by what age.” Taking her left hand in his, he toyed with the ring on her finger as he added, “Being engaged only makes those expectations feel that much heavier.”

Rei gazed at him empathetically. She hated how comforting it was knowing he was feeling the pressure, too. “I just want to numb it all out. Do things on our own terms. It’s only been two weeks” she replied. And really, how were they supposed to have the entire rest of their lives planned out in only fifteen days? None of it made any sense. If only everyone else could be so empathetic.

“We will” Kakashi assured her. “We don’t have to follow anyone else’s rules but our own.” He smiled down at her and caressed her cheek. Whatever imperfections she saw in herself were, to him, a masterpiece. Her cheeks were so soft and warm and when she smiled, she lit up the whole room. His heart swelled. “For now, I don’t want you to think about it anymore” he continued. “This is your night and I want you to enjoy every second of it.” A small smile touched her lips as she nodded and drew his hand up to kiss his knuckles. At least if she had to be here, face to face with her own future, she could take solace in knowing he was right by her side, hands and hearts intertwined until their dying breath.

Chukaryori Inn was an unsuspecting little place around the corner from Ichiraku. It was not necessarily known for it’s food or it’s atmosphere and therefore was always nearly empty. Rei wasn’t sure why she liked the place so much—perhaps the liminality of it made her feel concealed and therefore safe. The ominous flicker of the neon sign through evening rain instantly calmed her as they ducked inside.

Despite being a takeout place, the lobby of the restaurant housed a handful of mismatched tables and chairs where patrons could eat if they chose to. Guy and Sekkachi had already settled into a spot backed up against the potted bamboo sagging in the corner. Directly above them was a speaker fixed to the mirrored wall through which fuzzy shakuhachi music played.

The moment the little bell above the door jingled to signify their arrival, Rei locked eyes with Might Guy and suddenly knew what it must feel like to be a small animal spotted by prey in the wild. Without a moment of hesitation, Guy triumphantly leapt up onto the table. “There’s the birthday girl!” he shouted, pointing directly at her. The table wobbled beneath him.

Sekkachi looked up at him sharply, tugging on his legwarmer and muttering “Get the fuck down before you break a leg.” Whether she meant one of Guy’s legs or a table leg wasn’t important. The waitress behind the counter eyed them suspiciously before slowly ducking into the back.

“Oh god, please, no” Rei muttered under her breath, her cheeks burning. Kakashi placed his hand on the small of her back as he guided her toward the table. She shielded her face from her own reflection as Kakashi pulled her chair out for her. She sank down graciously.

With legs already propped up on the table, Sekkachi smirked and tooted a dorky little paper horn. “Congratulations: you’re one year closer to death!” she exclaimed.

Rei narrowed her eyes but her lips pursed into a smile. “You’re one to talk” she quipped. “Aren’t you turning thirty in a few weeks?”

Sekkachi swatted at the air as she took a swig of her drink. “Let’s not talk about that” she dismissed. “Tonight is all about Y-O-U.”

“Unfortunately” Rei chuckled, self-deprecating.

Kakashi rested a hand on her back, leaning down so that they were almost at eye level. “I’ll go order our food, just let me know what you want” he smiled. Then, turning to the others, “Have you ordered yet?”

Guy nodded emphatically. “I’ve never eaten here before but everything looked so good, I couldn’t help but try a bit of everything!” he replied excitedly. Whipping out the paper menu at their table, he pointed to the picture of his dish and exclaimed, “The perfect meal: a pupu platter!”

Sekkachi rolled her eyes, muttering, “And with all the grease in this shit, you’re gonna be having pupu all week.”

Rei smirked, asking, “And what did you order?”

“The same thing she always orders!” Guy exclaimed. He shoved the menu haphazardly back into it’s plastic container. “White rice and ice water. You know, Sekkachi, I really think you ought to expand your horizons! Indulge! Experience the power of food!”

“Mm, yeah, no thanks” Sekkachi replied. “I experience the power of food every time it hits my guts. I’ll just stick with the usual.”

Shaking his head, Kakashi then turned to Rei and asked, “Do you want your usual?” Rei smiled and nodded. She loved that he knew her well enough to know exactly what she wanted. It wasn’t like they had even been regulars here for very long. Rei had only really just discovered Chukaryori a few months ago on Mikazuki’s recommendation. And yet there was something so comforting and casual about the food, she fell in love at first bite.

Rei shook the rainwater from her hair as Kakashi approached the counter. “I have a feeling that storm outside is going to get a lot worse before it gets better” she commented.

“Well, you know what they say” Sekkachi replied, leaning back in her seat. “April showers bring May flowers.”

Rei stared back at her dumbly, blinking. “Sekkachi, it’s March.”

“Eh, fuck it, close enough” Sekkachi swatted at the air.

Guy grinned at the two of them before asking, “So, Rei, how has your birthday been so far? Have you done anything special?”

Shaking her head, Rei replied, “Not really. We just kinda hung out. Stopped in to see my family for a little bit.”

“Hana made cake, didn’t she?” Sekkachi chuckled. She knew Rei’s mother all too well. She remembered how desperately Hana Natsuki had tried to get her to eat during childhood sleepovers, the softly offended glares at nearly-full plates of food. Whenever Sekkachi felt especially bad about this, she always ended up having to trudge home at 2am with a stomachache. It wasn’t worth it. Sekkachi could handle disappointing her if it meant saving her digestive system.

Rei nodded, sucking in a deep breath. “Of course she did” she replied. “With all the nauseating icing you can imagine.” The way she said this, the telling wink, was a clear indicator that icing was merely a metaphor. Luckily, Sekkachi had known her long enough to know exactly what icing meant: well-meaning but overbearing comments that only emphasized how hopeless you were.

Sekkachi shuddered. “Heaven have mercy on your soul.”

Because it was predominantly a takeout restaurant, Chukaryori didn’t bother with plates. Their food was served in lidded aluminum pans and paper pagoda boxes dripping with grease. Guy’s order was so large, it required three containers. Crispy egg rolls, spare ribs, juicy chicken, beef teriyaki, wontons, crab rangoons, and fried shrimp towered before him, threatening a night of indigestion. He snapped his chopsticks apart, murmured a mouth-watering itadakimasu, and dove right in.

Kakashi watched in concerned awe, cocking an eyebrow and pursing his lips. “Guy, that’s a lot of food” he commented warily.

“Yeah, are you sure you can eat all of that?” Rei asked.

Guy grinned as he stuffed his face. “My body needs all the delicious energy it can get!” he exclaimed. “And if I can’t eat it all, then Sekkachi will help me!”

Sekkachi paused, mouth full of bland white rice. “Not on your life” she muffled, swallowing hard and chugging her ice water.

Laughing, Guy’s eyes then skated to Kakashi’s plate. The copy ninja squeezed a complimentary lemon wedge over his kara-age, perfectly crispy. “Hey, Kakashi” Guy commented, cocking a brow, “I thought you didn’t like fried food.”

Kakashi shrugged. “I like kara-age sometimes” he said. “We don’t really come here often enough for me to get sick of it, but for what it’s worth, everything on the menu here is fried. At least this comes with salad.” He reached for a bottle of ginger dressing on the table and drizzled it across a bowl of leafy lettuce, crisp cucumbers, and shredded carrot.

As Rei dug into her own food, she felt a surge of welcome happiness within the pit of her chest. Rain pattered on the roof and the fluorescent lights overhead hummed and flickered but their collective laughter drowned everything else out. While she never grew up eating subuta, each bite filled her with a warmth usually reserved only for nostalgic comforts. Her pork was sweet and tangy and the vegetables retained their crunch. The way the cook cut her carrots into the shape of flowers reminded Rei of her mother. That night, like every other night they ate from Chukaryori, Rei did not have any leftovers.

Guy, on the other hand, started confidently but was bested by his own hubris. Sekkachi shrugged, capping her container of rice. She’d eat the other half later, perhaps as a midnight snack. “At least you tried a little bit of everything” she commented.

“Wow” Rei replied, eyes wide and mouth agape, “I’m surprised by your optimism.” Sekkachi rolled her eyes, a silent threat to reach across the table and slap Rei on the shoulder.

Guy snapped the lids onto his containers in defeat, his stomach bloated and his face pale. “You know what this means?” he said. His comrades gazed back at him in anticipation. “I just need to train harder! One day, I’ll defeat you, you formidable pupu platter!” Rei clapped her hands over her mouth, stifling her hysterical laughter.

Though the rain had picked up by the time they all parted ways, Rei and Kakashi took the long route home. The streets were empty and the sky overhead was littered with stars. Rei spread her arms out wide as she strolled, tilting her head back so as to catch raindrops on her tongue. The moon was full and the air was cool. Kakashi couldn’t fight the grin on his masked face as he watched her inhibitions disappear. It was like they were young children again, carefree and candid. Nothing could hurt them.

Kakashi’s ardor grew the nearer they came to their apartment. He watched with a tender gaze as she kicked her shoes off at the front door, shook the rainwater from her hair, and the great care she took in stepping over Toshio asleep on the floor. It was when she approached the bookshelf, eyes focused as she considered the best place to put her new book, that Kakashi’s love became completely uncontainable. Without a moment of hesitation, he crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She gasped but fell into his embrace almost immediately. He rubbed her sides, lifting her shirt up slightly in the process.

“Kakashi, are you trying to tell me something?” she smiled. Her laughter was like paradise as he tugged his mask down, planted kisses along her jawline and down her neck.

“Not particularly” Kakashi lied. His fingers toyed at the hem of her pants, caressing the indent of her hipbone. A jolt of excitement coursed through his veins. She was right here in front of him, real as could be, and yet in moments like this he couldn’t even fathom how he had gotten so lucky. This was his future, snuggled up right in his arms. He couldn’t imagine devoting his life to anyone else. “Is it so wrong to want to give my future wife a little affection on her birthday?” he then asked, his lips curling into a smile.

Future wife. Those words were like a shot of morphine straight to her veins. “I like the sound of that” she whispered. Her hand skated down to rest atop his pressed against her stomach, melting into his embrace. Kakashi kissed her cheek as he toyed with the ring on her finger, turning it this way and that as if to confirm it still existed. His touch brought her a sense of peace unlike anything else. All of the anxiety that had built up within her throughout the day began to evaporate and in it’s place came a certain confidence, a solidification of thought. “Kakashi…” she sighed.

“Hmm?” he gently turned her face toward his. There was a tender sweetness in his eyes that only further confirmed her plan.

A soft, almost apprehensive laugh broke past her lips. “At the risk of sounding greedy,” she whispered, “I…I need to ask you for one gift for my birthday.”

“Oh?” Kakashi asked, cocking a brow. “The book wasn’t enough?” She could tell he was joking but that didn’t stop her anxiety from mounting.

Averting her eyes, she shook her head and muttered, “Actually, nevermind. Forget I said anything.” She broke away from his grasp and slipped into the bedroom. Perhaps it was better that she kept her mouth shut anyway. This was a bad idea.

“Rei, wait, no” he called after her, reaching for her wrist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s fine” she shook her head. She couldn’t stand to look at him. She hadn’t even posed her question and yet she was far too embarrassed she had ever thought of it in the first place.

Kakashi’s gaze softened as he brushed the hair out of her face. “I’m sorry. What is it? Please tell me.” She had only enough strength to glance at him but his apologetic smile was enough to break down her weak walls.

“I just…” she started, voice cracking. She could feel his anticipation rising. Sucking in a deep breath then, she finally said it. “Kakashi, I want you to cum inside me.”

Kakashi drew back slightly, blinking. They had never done that before. Of all the years they had been together, he had always been so devoted to pulling out—perhaps a little too devoted. And yet here she was now, asking him to empty himself inside of her. To give her every ounce of himself. “R-Rei, but what if you--?” he started, but she quickly cut him off.

“I know” she said. “We’ll be fine. I don’t care. Just…please. I-I want to feel you.” Her cheeks were burning at the proposition, and she suddenly felt so stupid and shy.

A shiver ran down Kakashi’s spine as he swallowed hard. His mind raced as he considered this unexpected request, a part of him wondering what brought her to want this in the first place. Earlier she had been so panicked, so overwhelmed. The abrupt turn of thought was so jarring. Did she truly want this? Or did she just feel pressured? The look on her face, however, told him she was genuine. He tilte her head up and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes in the hope that he could somehow silently transmit to her a sense of peace and clarity. She was ready. She was willing. She no longer feared the risk. Kakashi caressed her cheek, considered the ring on her finger. They were in this together now, whatever the future brought them. And if it unexpectedly brought them a child, then so be it. They could handle it. Perhaps that realization was what changed her heart’s direction, too. A small smile touched his lips as he drew her hips against his to emphasize his growing erection. “Okay” he whispered. “I’m all yours.”

Rei’s heart leapt into her throat, searching his face for any sign that he may be leading her on. She felt so guilty for wanting this, so hypocritical even, yet she found no hint of malice in his gaze. He pressed his lips to hers sweetly, tenderly, as they both migrated toward the bed. They broke their kiss for only a moment as Kakashi slid Rei’s shirt up over her head.

He straddled her hips as she fell back against the mattress, his gentle touch tracing the curvature of her breasts, her toned stomach, her plush hips. A small smirk touched his lips as he toyed with the hem of her underpants. “You’re wearing one of your nice pairs” he commented. Rather than the usual rips and tears, these were soft and pink and floral with teasing lace trim. “Are they new?”

“New enough” Rei whispered, running her hands through Kakashi’s hair. Her breath hitched as his lips traveled down her chest to her pelvis. He removed her underwear slowly and tossed them aside, then locked eyes with her as he spread her legs further apart. She loved the way he was looking at her, the hunger in his eyes, the slight smirk of his lips. She closed her eyes as he eased his way into her, hooking his arms beneath her legs so he could perfectly hit that spot she liked.

His pace began slow and steady but Rei could tell there was something about him that was different this time—every motion more powerful, more meaningful. She bit her lower lip as he thrust harder and faster, tightening his grip on her thighs.

“Rei...” he whispered, his voice breathless. “I-I’m close. Are you sure…you still…mm, want to do this?”

Rei dug her nails into his back as she considered his question for a moment. There was still time to back out. There was so much risk, and yet…

“Yes” she said definitively. “Yes, Kakashi. D-do it.”

With a single nod, Kakashi replied, “Okay.” His voice was so low, almost even a growl. He held her close as he picked up the pace, thrusting deep and fast inside her. His breath grew shaky and he prayed he could hold out, that he could withstand the instinct to pull out at the very last minute. She planted a few small kisses along his collarbone before gasping and burying her face in the crook of his neck. It was then that he knew she would make this so easy for him. How could he deny her when she was so vulnerable like this? When her body was racked by every buck and swerve of his hips?

Rei’s heart pounded as her body electrified and somehow it felt like the first time all over again. All she could think about was him: him on top of her, him inside of her, him holding her and fucking her and filling her. And then she felt his dick pulse inside her and his shaky breath against her neck and her entire body quivered. “K-Kakashi…” she whispered, her back arching against the mattress. He groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, the ejaculation bringing on equal parts rapture and relief. And god, it was so much better this way. For a moment, he didn’t even care or consider the potential consequences. All he knew was the sweet, raw bliss of that perfect union, of a smooth finish, uninterrupted and real.

He stayed there, towering over her, for a long moment afterward before he could finally catch his breath. And then slowly he maneuvered himself out of her, sitting upright before her. He ruffled his hair with a breathy laugh, sweat beading on his brow. “How do you feel?”

Rei’s chest rose and fell quickly as she stared up at the ceiling, her face flushed and damp with sweat. How did she feel? It took her a moment to figure out the answer. “Good” she finally replied. “I feel…good.” She propped her hand behind her head and smiled softly back at him and he was immediately weak. He lunged toward her to press his lips hard against hers, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

“I’m glad” he whispered as she settled against his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead and in that moment, she was at peace—more than she had expected to be. Rei’s eyes quickly grew heavy as Kakashi snuggled her close and then once again he began to sing. Anata wo ikebana ni shite shimaimaseu, itsumo soba ni ite itaadkemasu yo ni…

“Mm, Kakashi…” Rei moaned sleepily. “Why does that song sound so familiar…? I feel like I’ve been hearing it…all day…”

A small smile touched Kakashi’s lips as he brushed the hair back out of her face. “Don’t you remember?” he asked. “My mother used to sing it to me when I was little. It’s one of the only things I remember about her.” His heart skipped a beat as he remembered their childhood, the way he, in turn, would occasionally sing that very song to Rei when she was young and scared or wouldn’t stop crying or fall asleep. It had been so long since he had sang to her, so long since he had uttered those sweet lyrics at all. He wasn’t sure what made him remember them so abruptly—perhaps it was how peaceful she looked when he returned home that morning, riding the high of a last-minute day off. If only every day could be spent just like this, doing whatever they pleased, always together. Come morning, everything would be back to normal. He would go on missions again, leaving her behind, as she would to him. The world would start turning yet again and their careers would bring them to the brink of death, challenging that promise he had made to her so many years ago. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. For the time being, all that mattered—all that existed—was him and her and the little life they had built within this tiny apartment. Kakashi kissed the tip of Rei’s nose and cupped her cheek in his hand, then asked quietly, “So did you have a good birthday?”

Though exhausted and nearly unconscious, Rei forced her eyes open ever so slightly to look up at him, sleep drunk and sweet. “The best birthday” she murmured, smiling. “How could it be anything less when I got to spend it with you? My first birthday as your fiancée. Knowing I’m going to be your wife…that’s the best present I could’ve ever asked for.”

Kakashi’s heart swelled; he was so overwhelmed with love for her. He swallowed back the faintest threat of tears as he took her left hand in his, turning the engagement ring back and forth on her finger. If he was honest, he still couldn’t believe she had said yes. He still couldn’t believe that after all those years of distance and defiance, that she still promised to spend the rest of her life with him. He would forever be indebted to her boundless grace—he truly did not deserve her forgiveness. And yet her undying love for him was proof that perhaps he was never as irredeemable as he feared he was. That he still had hope and a purpose. That he still had a promise to her to uphold: to protect her until his dying breath, and in doing so forge a life with her that they could be proud of. He truly couldn’t ask for anything more. Kakashi drew her hand up so as to kiss her fingertips, his heart overflowing as she interlaced her fingers with his. He held their hands against his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling her to sleep. Just before she slipped into complete slumber, she heard his voice whisper in her ear, soft and sweet.

I love you more than anything, Rei.

#LET THE CAVITIES COMMENCE #also warning of incoming smut lmfao #kakashi hatake #rei natsuki #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Text

Pigments

Art Teacher Molly! Based on a set of head canons I posted a little while ago

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment on Ao3!

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Caleb’s school had been a handful of rooms in the town hall building. He and the other children of the village had been roughly divided into two groups by age and taken by either the town’s only cleric, a dwarven priestess of Erathis who’d been sent to Blumenthal years ago to establish a strong faith amongst those people of the earth and had remained despite the local’s pleasant indifference, or the herbalist whenever she left the store with her nephew. Caleb would complete every task set for him within ten minutes and, instead, would be allowed to sit in the corner and read while the other children staggered their way through multiplication and verbs and basic Dwarvish. He read everything that could be found within the building, even staying in during playtime. The herbalist would share her tea with him and bring him scones when she could see that his parents were having a rough month.

Even as everything between who Caleb was now and that small child with unruly red curls and hollow cheeks and big eyes, even as all of it cracked and broke and rotted away for a number of reasons, it wouldn’t take much to bring him back to that little room. The dust motes dancing through the sunlight slanding in through the windows and falling on the blackboard with lines and lines of loopy handwriting that was clearly made to draw intricate sketches of plants and write labels on bottles of strange green liquids. The taste of flour and sugar baked together on his tongue, heavy with cherries, nettle tea, the taste of reassurance that maybe his stomach wouldn’t ache so bad when he went to bed that night, that maybe his mother’s heart wouldn’t break quite so much when she saw him. The promise of new words, so many it felt like he could barely hold them all in his mind, but he’d still always want more. Feeling like maybe one day he would be somewhere that would appreciate him for everything he knew.

It didn’t take much to send Caleb back there, to remind him of his days at school. Any little similarity would do it. But standing here, in an actual school, all he could think was how different it was from his own.

Molly’s hand hadn’t left his own since they’d gotten into the taxi. Caleb thought that meant the date was going well. The thought gave him a happy warmth in the bottom of his stomach, though he was very aware of his own inexperience. He wouldn’t really know if it was going well one way or the other, he had next to no data to fall back on.

But there was something in the way Molly kept stealing glances at him, leaving Caleb to just catch the slightest edge of his glance, the way there would always be a smile on his face whenever it happened. Almost as if just the sight of Caleb still sat beside him was enough to make Molly smile.

The hallways were left by the wide windows to alternate strangely between pitch black and wonky squares of yellow streetlight. The only noises were their own footsteps and the muted rumble of cars and voices outside. Of course, at nearly midnight, there was absolutely no one in the school.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here so late?” Caleb finally asked, his voice reverberating off tiles in shadow that he couldn’t even see.

Molly turned a little from where he was determinedly leading the way through the corridors and up the silent stairs, “Of course.” His hand, the one that wasn’t entwined with Caleb’s, reached into his shoulder bag and flashed a red lanyard with a faded, blurry picture of a far younger purple tiefling, “I’m staff. And you’re my guest.”

If he couldn’t see the staff badge for himself, Caleb wouldn’t have been able to believe that the loud, extravagant, naturally hedonistic singer he’d been dating for a month now was a teacher by day. The idea of Molly being an authority figure was like trying to imagine a fish climbing a tree or a shark swimming backwards. Something just wasn’t right about it.

But there was his name on the door they were approaching, Mr Tealeaf, neatly typed out in large, rounded letters surrounded by childish cartoons of paint brushes and easels, clearly added by whoever had made the sign in an attempt to make it brighter. But the stickers that had been placed around it with a heavy, generous hand and the graffiti style doodles done in loud, colourful marker were undoubtedly the work of Molly himself.

“Also I leave stuff in my classroom all the time,” Molly added, a little bashfully, “They gave me a key after the one time they found me trying to climb through the window. Someone called the police.”

Caleb had to smile at the mental image, “What did you forget that time?”

Molly suddenly seemed very interested in his keys as he put them in the door, “Uh, my phone.”

Caleb’s smile grew, “The same thing we’re having to come back here to get right this moment?”

Molly turned and poked him in the chest with a finger tipped by a long, deep red nail, playfully challenging, “What’s your point, Widogast?”

“Nothing at all,” Caleb showed his palms, his grin not fading at all.

Molly flicked his tail at him and disappeared into the classroom, “I wouldn’t bother but it’s got the cinema tickets on my email…”

Caleb nodded along, more absorbed in looking around. Even with the light off, the small space was a riot of muted colour, there wasn’t an inch of the walls that wasn’t covered in an art piece of some description. One was groaning under what looked like three classes worth of crookedly sewn embroidered patches, one dripped with just as many watercolours, one had bunting haphazardly strung up that boughed under a store’s worth of bead bracelets and paper flower garlands. Even things that couldn’t be pinned up found their place; the long banks of sinks that circled the room like a moat had sculptures standing sentinel, frozen in the act of listing slightly to the left or right.

Where there wasn’t displays of work there were boards on different artists and movements, one about Frida Kahlo backed by loud, patterned fabric, one about Van Gough set against a recreation of Starry Night done with twists of blue silk. The others were people Caleb had never heard of but he was sure he’d know everything he needed to after reading all of the carefully typed out squares of information.

Though the colour could only slightly be seen with the lack of light, Caleb could practically smell it. The scent of charcoal and pigment and fresh paper was on nearly everything, buoyed by strong coffee and sugary tea. Less pleasant was the slightest smell of stagnant water, probably left in paint trays and clinging to brushes, though it was mild enough that Caleb didn’t mind.

Molly went straight to his desk while Caleb was still staring, digging around in drawers that looked like they were overflowing until he came up with his phone, “There you are, you bastard. Yasha said she was going to super glue it to my hand if I left it at work again, let’s hope she’s forgotten that...”

Caleb made a soft noise of affirmation, ninety nine percent of his attention still on the room around him.

Molly gave a soft chuckle, “Do you like it? I know it weirds some people out, they can’t imagine me actually doing this as a job.”

Caleb’s eyes flickered over to Molly, managing to pull himself out of a sudden hyperfixation on L. S. Lowry. He allowed himself a long moment just to look at him, standing there in the half light. Though all they’d been planning to do was go to the pictures and get a few drinks afterwards, he was dressed as extravagantly as ever. Enough piercings to make his ears droop a little, a shirt made of nothing but glittering mesh patterned with stars over a tight vest and leather pants tucked into boots that went up to his knees. Not much on display but everything hinted at, his tattoos vibrant even in shadow. He looked as far away from a teacher as anyone could imagine.

But Caleb could see touches of him everywhere in the room they stood in. He saw him in the messiness of the desk but how he clearly knew where everything was regardless. He saw his guiding hand in every single work of art on the wall, he saw him in the gushing praise scribbled in red pen on the front of the pile of test papers near his computer. He saw him in the tin of biscuits right by his elbow, ready to be brought out at a moment’s notice for a child who was having a hard day or who’d achieved something after trying so hard.

Or a child who maybe hadn’t had any breakfast that day.

Caleb felt his lower lip wobble dangerously for a moment but he quickly brought it under control, managing to smile, “I don’t think it’s weird. I can’t imagine a job more perfect for you.”

Molly beamed at that, some pride warming his eyes now as he gently touched a piece of paper lying on his desk, a pencil drawing done in bright colours that was clearly meant to be himself done by a child that had clearly just been introduced to Cubism.

“Well,” he was even blushing a little, around the edges, “I do enjoy it. And that is about the nicest thing anyone’s said to me about my job.”

“Well, it’s true,” Caleb leaned against one of the tables, one hand awkwardly seizing his arm, though the smile on his face was undeniable, spreading across his face the more Molly kept looking at him like that.

Molly twirled his tail between his fingers. Was Caleb thinking wishfully or did he always do that when he was feeling charmed? His eyes roved over his desk, looking like he was trying to decide whether something was a good idea or whether it would come off as dorky.

“I...I have something for you,” he eventually grinned, eyes flickering up to Caleb, “Call it a prize for coming on this rescue mission with me.”

“Oh?” Caleb leaned forward slightly, hoping it might be a kiss.

Molly swept up, ringing slightly as he went with all his adornments, “My students were learning about mosaic and glass work? So we did a little jewellery making and seeing how I have to demo everything, I ended up with this…”

Caleb suddenly found something small and smooth in his hand. He looked to see a bracelet, a simple loop of black string with rounded, oblong beads in alternating sea green and vibrant blue.

“They’ll really bring out the colours of your eyes,” Molly murmured hopefully, “They always remind me of the sea so I guess I must subconsciously have been...thinking of you? While I made it? I must have always meant to give you it, even before I realised it.”

Caleb’s mouth opened, hoping words adequate to express just how much the gift meant to him would just come pouring out. Of course they didn’t, he was just left stammering until he stopped himself and just looked Molly in the eye as he slipped the bracelet over his skinny wrist.

“I love it, Molly. Thank you.”

Judging by Molly’s face, Caleb’s eyes must have said what his words couldn’t. That was when he got his kiss, sweet and gentle, coloured in moonlight.

And the bracelet would stay on his wrist all night. And the many dates they’d have after their slightly delayed trip to the cinema.

And the years they’d have together after that.

#modern au #art teacher molly #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #widomauk

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dregstrash · 5 years

Text

jealousy, that thing with claws (pt.7)

A/N: Here it is folks the last chapter!! I’m sorry it took so long for this to get out into the world. I can’t begin to describe how thankful I am for all of you who have read this. I wasn’t expecting so many people to want this story, and was so pleasantly surprised when it became a reality. Thank you for showing Petya love, and for always supporting my writing! So, without further ado, hope everyone enjoys!!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 ||

Also now on Ao3!

Tagging: @kestrel-of-herran @ipizzippy @stormwitch-privateer @queenghafa @ysitsohardtofindaname @shadowylighting @alittlelark @privateerrezni @terrywho-cartoons

Nikolai was going to kill Zoya. This time she went too far, and now his ass hurts as his horse raced through the battle torn field.

He would have let her go-- if she had asked him. Not that she needed his permission to do anything, but if she had asked or at least let him know he would have sent troops with her. He would have assigned some Grisha out of their guard duties to accompany her. But no. She heard the news that the the Fjerdans had started a skirmish in Petya’s hometown and she had left in the dead of night.

No word. No message. Just an empty room when Nikolai came to her door to ask if she was alright with the news.

His stomach had dropped to his feet when he had first realized where she had gone. For one second, all the hope that Petya had given him that there might be the slimmest of chances that Zoya and him could be something more substantial disappeared. But that disheartening possibility was quickly replaced with bone chilling worry.

As Nikolai rushed to get supplies together for his reckless solo journey, images of Zoya being struck down by a Fjerdan hand or fighting a mass of enemies by herself kept blocking his vision. And no assurances that she was going to be fine would calm his racing heart.

It was more than half a day’s ride to Petya’s home town, but by the fifth hour of his pace, Nikolai began to hear the sounds of a raging battle and he felt what little breath he had leave his lungs as his horse crested the hill and the battle worn land assaulted his eyes.

The city was being sieged and bodies were littered on both sides. Nikolai’s mind tunneled down to where most of the battle was taking place, and he didn’t think he could have been any happier to see a small tornado ripping through the Fjerdans line of defense.

He nudged his already tired horse down and drew his pistol from his side.

All in all it took him about fifteen minutes to finally cut his way through where Zoya and Petya were. But it felt like years had passed.

Nikolai’s horse was unfortunately struck down by a Fjerdan gun, and he very happily reciprocated the kindness to the shooter. Then there was the brief scuffle he faced with three other Fjerdan soldiers that left him with no more than a bruised side and maybe a fracture to one of his fingers. That didn’t matter, though, what mattered that his adrenaline was up, his heart was beating, and that Zoya had the most amusing look of surprise on her face.

“What in all the saints are you doing here?” She cried.

Before Nikolai could answer a round of shots from the other side had sounded off, and on instinct Nikolai ducked towards Zoya, covering her in the circle of his arms. The shots stopped for a half a second, and without thinking, both of them had shot up from their cover and delivered an attack of their own. The soldiers who were still standing fired at will, and Zoya releasing a tidal wave to the offending line.

Nikolai took the time to really look at the other side of the battlefield and cursed as he spotted the tank that Brekker had told him about last time they had a civil conversation.

He scanned the faces of the men and women soldier around him.

“Xander, Kuwei,” Nikolai bellowed, the two Grisha startled at the sound of their names but didn’t hesitate to approach him. “You need to stop that tank before the Fjerdans decide they need to use it. Take three more foot soldiers with you for cover. GO!”

There was no time to have second thoughts. The two went off, and Nikolai turned back to Zoya, only to find her struggling over an unconscious man, leaving her guard completely open.

“Zoya!” Nikolai yelled as he spied an enemy soldier sneaking up behind her.

She didn’t turn around fast enough and before anything happened, Nikolai soundly put a bullet through his skull.

“I don’t need your help!” She yelled at him, even as she struggled to pull the man up with her.

“Obviously you--” Nikolai’s retort died on his lips as soon as he recognized the figure in her arms.

It was Petya. He was covered in dirt, and his shirt had been torn bloody. His left arm was mangled, and from what Nikolai could see, his chest was hardly moving.

“What happened?” Nikolai came up on Petya’s other side and helped Zoya get him into more cover.

“Those feral ice beasts had thrown a grenade right at this house that hadn’t been cleared yet. Petya had gotten the little girl out, but not before it went off and this fucking house landed on top of him. We need to get him to the Medik on the other side of the village.” Zoya said frantically.

The regular stab of jealousy that Nikolai was oddly getting used to took another hit on his heart, but this was neither the time nor place. Petya was injured. Zoya cared enough about him to risk her own bloody life for him. And if saving this man was what it took for Zoya to be happy, then so be it.

“Zo, you’re not going to be able to make it all the way to the Medik tent. And someone needs to stay here to organize this chaos.” Nikolai said grunting as Petya’s weight shifted more to his side. “I’ll take Petya. We need to end this fight here and now before other villages get the wrong end of a tank in their face.”

Zoya met Nikolai’s gaze over Petya’s unconscious head, and despite the war that was raging around them, he had to pause. He just needed one more moment to drink in the intensity of her blue-heated gaze, the righteous fury that always burned so brightly, the sharp lines her face made when she was about to do something dangerous. It was a look he loved-- would always love.

And this might be the last time that this look would be directed towards him.

An explosion sounded off to the west side of the battlefield and reality came crashing back in.

Nikolai forcibly took Petya away from Zoya, and grunted as he deadman-lifted his friend.

“I’ll see you again, Nikolai.” Zoya said simply. A state of truth that wasn’t to be contested.

His tired muscles were beginning to fully take in Petya’s weight, but even so, he managed a weak smile and said, “I’ll hold you to that, Nazyalensky.”

The moon was full tonight. A good sign for the future, Nikolai hoped, because after today, he could use a good sign or maybe twenty more.

Thankfully, Xander and Kuwei were able to stop the tank before anything happened, but not before Xander suffered a nasty blow to the head. Nikolai didn’t think Kuwei had it in him, but he managed to drag Xander all the way back to the Medik and hasn’t left his side since.

The boy had potential, and maybe it was time Nikolai started paying attention to that.

Once the tank was safely dispatched, it was almost clockwork the way his soldiers were able to beat the Fjerdans back to a retreat. Nikolai wasn’t able to get to the front lines once he saw the utter chaos the village had been under. No one had really taken charge of keeping supplies safe or which injured gets the most attention. His soldiers were off on patrols, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to bring order to the frantic chaos.

He had left Petya in the care of one of the better Corporalkis, and had thrown himself to work. He needed to do something. He couldn’t sit beside an unconscious man, letting thoughts of Zoya drive him insane.

So he organized supplies, assured the citizens of the village, helped with making more defense measures around the safe haven his soldiers had managed to carve out in the midst of the attack. He did everything he could until there was nothing left to do, and he looked up to see that night had fallen.

Exhaustion was deep in his bones. He could feel it settled and coat his muscles, but sleep was the last thing on his mind.

“You never answered my question.” Her voice came out of the shadow of trees, and he didn’t bother turning around to meet her.

He just kept staring up at the moon, and focused on the hard bark biting into his back.

But Zoya was never one to be ignored so she stood right in front of him, forcing him to look up and see her dark hair silhouetted by the moonlight, casting her face in an ethereal glow.

“You’re going to have to specify, my dear Nazyalensky.” Nikolai sighed, “If the question is how one can look so good sitting in the moonlight, I won’t have any answers for you. One can only--”

“I asked you what you were doing here.” She said irritably. “A small village battle is hardly any notice for a king.”

“And I’d argue that it’s no place for a general either, but I’m a much smarter man to really contest anything you say.” Nikolai smirked, hoping against all hopes that she’d leave him alone.

It hurt having her glaring at him like that. It hurt that despite everything, there was still this niggling doubt that she’d still choose someone else, and that he’d have to be okay with that.

“You shouldn’t be here, Nikolai.”

“Well, it seemed like everyone was was doing reckless things for people they care about and I refuse to not be on trend. I’m king after all. It should be setting those kinds of precedence.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

Zoya huffed in exasperation, and finally dropped to sit in front of him.

“Petya needed my help.”

“Clearly.”

“His village was going to be destroyed if it wasn’t for me.”

“I’m sure they’ll erect a statue in your honor.”

“You would have done the same for a friend.”

Whatever snarky reply was sitting on Nikolai’s tongue evaporated, as the word friend rang in between them.

It was such a simple word-- an overused one if he was honest, but with one word the dark cloud that was pressing against his chest began to lift.

“A friend?” He said slowly. He watched Zoya’s face carefully, desperately trying to read her face for any hint to the thoughts that were going on in her mind.

“A friend.” She shrugged, “I’m assuming you know what those are.”

“I do. Because that’s what we are, unless those hours of you calling me an idiot were telling me something else.”

All of Nikolai’s unspoken sentiments were hanging in the air. His questions, his doubts, his feelings were an undercurrent to the calm waves of his tone, and he’d never admit himself to be cowardly. But in this moment, with Zoya looking at him curiously, he couldn’t make his mouth form what he really wanted to say. For once, he was speechless, and he was in the complete mercy of Zoya who was looking at him oddly.

“I--” Zoya started, but quickly groaned in frustration. Nikolai started to smirk, he almost started to say he’d wait all night for her response, instead the next thing he knew Zoya’s mouth was pressed against his and her hands were clutching to the front of his dirtied shirt pulling him closer.

He wrapped his arms around her, tilting his head a little more to get a better angle, and he’d gladly fight another ten Fjderan soldiers if that’s what it took for Zoya to make that small moan that she gave when he had started nibbling on her lower lip.

“You’re still an idiot, Nikolai.” Zoya said as she rested her forehead against his, “But for some reason that’s supposed to be endearing to me.”

Nikolai laughed slightly and then brought their lips back together. He still didn’t know what this thing between them was, or what this kiss could mean, but he did know that this was a start--it was a beginning, and that was enough.

#zoyalai #jealous nikolai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lanstov #nikolai x zoya #king of scars #kos #im going to cry tears of joy #i finally finished this #im so damn happ #i dont even care if no one finds interest in this story anymore #i finished this wip #and i am so happy

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antiquecompass · 4 years

Text

Yeah, see, I was listening to Lord Huron’s Strange Trails again and ‘Meet Me in the Woods’ came up and then this happened.

So this is how Mo Xuanyu meets the Nie Pack:

He was seeing and hearing things again. Little shadows at the corners of his eyes, just past his peripheral, whispers in a language he didn’t understand but felt like he should know. He really felt like he was going crazy this time, for good, for real, for actual. He dreaded telling his aunt; she’d have him put in the psych ward again.

Honestly, he’d seen a living, moving creature made of flame come from that candle. It had danced on his fingers, not burning him, before dissipating into the air. He’d seen it. He felt it. He remembered it.

He told his aunt the first time it happened, a mistake he made at nine, a mistake he never made again.

Maybe it was just a dream?

It hadn’t been this bad since he was a kid and it turned out his imaginary friend, Beatrice, was apparently a girl who had died forty years before he’d been born.

The trip to Scotland was supposed to be a relaxing family vacation. Sure, he’d only been brought along because they didn’t trust him to stay at home by himself, but still, the untamed wilderness of the estate they were staying on was supposed to bring him peace.

Instead he’d heard marching bands of warriors and haunting trills of bagpipes. He’d heard the firing of muskets and the clash of steel when nothing but rivers and trees and grass were around him.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked to the air.

A whimper answered him, a pained howl that had him scrambling up from the silver birch tree he was seated against.

It was stupid, tremendously stupid to walk into the thick of the woods to see what was making that sound. He knew that. He knew he could get trampled by a stag or attacked by some fox, but whatever was in there was in pain. He couldn’t just ignore it.

Maybe it was an auditory hallucination anyway, just one more to add on to the pile.

He carefully walked into the woods, pulling out his phone and switching on the flashlight. He could hear squirrels scampering above his head and the call of birds. The pitiful whimper sounded through the woods again and he turned to his left.

Blood. There was a trail of blood.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath.

He followed it anyway.

In an open clearing, surrounded by a random circle of pines, he found a wolf in the middle. It was injured, hobbling on three of its legs until it fell to the grown in a heap. It startled when Xuanyu stepped on a twig, snapping it in two, but it didn’t growl, or jump up and run away.

“Shit,” Xuanyu repeated.

He couldn’t just leave it there.

“Hey, buddy,” Xuanyu said as he approached it. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” he said, pitching his voice to a low, soothing cadence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The wolf seemed to relax as he drew closer, almost as if it could understand him.

It wasn’t a big wolf, more medium sized, with a black coat and a gorgeous patch of gold around it’s bright, yellow eyes. It whimpered again as Xuanyu got closer.

“Just don’t bite me, Mr. Wolf,” Xuanyu said. “Or Ms. Or neither, I shouldn’t assume.”

The wolf stayed still as he knelt down beside it. He saw it then, an iron spike in its paw.

“Dude, that sucks,” Xuanyu said. His shoulders dropped. “Look, I’m not a vet, by any means, but I can probably pull this out. Just don’t bite my hand or my head off. Okay?”

He couldn’t believe he was talking to the wolf like he could understand him, but hell, if a mouse helping a lion was good enough for Aesop, a human helping a wolf hopefully wouldn’t end in his death.

“Okay,” Xuanyu said. “Let’s do this.”

He took a deep breath, the wolf held still, and he pulled its paw into his lap. The fur was surprisingly soft under his hands. He couldn’t help but rub it with his fingers as he felt for the edges of the spike.

The wolf whimpered again and Xuanyu knew he had to get his shit together. He only had so long before the wolf would surely react.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said and then pulled quickly.

The iron spike came out far too easy. Suspiciously easy. As if it was only there to test stupid idiots 20-something Americans lost in the woods of Scotland.

The wolf immediately pulled away, tail between its legs, hovering near the edge of the pine circle. He howled then, strong, like a call. It was answered by a deeper howl, one that felt infinitely closer, and Xuanyu knew his luck had run out.

He didn’t think he could outrun a wolf pack.

“No good deed, eh?” he said.

A man came barreling out of the woods, tall and broad and terrifying.

“Who are you?” he demanded in accented English, an accent Xuanyu couldn’t place.

“Xuanyu,” he said. “My family’s staying at the estate on the other side of the woods.

The man glared at him as he walked over to the wolf, picking it up in his arms as if it weighed nothing.

“You should not wander in the woods, little Changeling,” the man said. “Though I thank you for saving my brother from the iron trap.”

Changeling? Brother? Trap?

Some people took LARP-ing a little too seriously. He hoped that’s what this was, he prayed that’s what was going on.

“Uh, what?” he asked.

“Mingjue!”

Another man emerged from the woods, small, delicate, but with an aura around him that made Xuanyu immediately want to bow his head.

“You found him,” the smaller man said with something like relief. He then sniffed the air and whirled around, staring at Xuanyu. “Who are you,” he demanded. “Why do you smell like Jin?”

“Djinn? I haven’t been rubbing any lamps or meeting any genies,” he said. “My name’s Xuanyu. I’m staying with my family on the estate,” he gestured behind him, “that way.” He stood up and dusted off his jeans. “Look, I’m sorry if interrupted whatever real life D&D campaign thing you got going on here, or whatever the hell you’re doing. I just heard something in pain and went to help.”

“Where are you from?” the smaller man demanded. He would’ve marched over to him if the other man didn’t have a hold on his shoulder. “Who are your parents?”

“New Jersey. My mom’s dead and my dad was a one-night stand. Not that any of that is your business. So, I’m just going to go, back that way, okay?”

He backed away from them, maintaining eye contact, an odd feeling that if he turned his back he’d lose his head.

“And Aunt Mo thinks <i>I’m</i> the crazy one,” he said as he finally broke the tree line and started the walk back to civilization.

Three days later he was in the tiny shop at the center of the village debating over ice cream flavors when someone stumbled into him.

“Apologies,” a soft voice said.

Xuanyu glanced up, and then down, to find a petite man glancing up at him from behind a beautifully painted fan. His dark hair was long and loose and his eyes a golden yellow color that somehow seemed familiar.

“It’s cool,” Xuanyu said. He turned back to the cooler, trying not to stare. “Any suggestions.”

The man reached out with a hand, covered with various cartoon characters band-aids and tapped one of the various pictures.

“I’ve always been a fan the classic myself,” he said.

“Plain vanilla Cornetto it is,” Xuanyu said. “It’s just like a Drumstick, I’m guessing.” He smiled down at the man. “Thanks.”

“You are most welcome,” the man said. He held his hand out. “I am Huaisang.”

“Xuanyu,” he said, shaking his hand.

#long post #verse: journeys #mo xuanyu #the untamed #fandom: the untamed #my ridic writing

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pigeoncentric · 4 years

Text

i did an A:TLA rewatch and took notes because that’s just what i do, and here’s the notes if anyone wants to see my thoughts

i haven't watched atla since about a year before korra started airing, so like, around 2011. i should also mention that i never watched korra through to the end, but i guess i'll do that after this. if i feel like it. i do know that the biggest bottles were never popped

i have such a clear memory of the first episode. it must've been on nickelodeon pretty often, even though when it was airing, i only watched it occasionally. i remember they also aired the library episode super often.

aang's voice is so tiny and sweet

i gotta turn off my dumb adult brain and put my dumb kid brain back on so i can better appreciate the nickelodeonness of it all

sokka and zuko's first interaction.......

zuko's intimidating approach and then his tiny teen voice

SOKKA AND ZUKO'S SECOND INTERACTION............

zuko's like "i'm going home." with aang. he must be feeling an incredible mixture of feelings, thinking he has the avatar and can reclaim his Honor. but he also must be terrified to go back, and in disbelief... fortunately he's not going home like he said and there are even more confused feelings in between

i just remembered that iroh's voice actor dies between seasons :(

thinking a lot about dante basco... no thoughts in particular, just a lot of them... and how he shipped zutara lmao

"my troubles cannot be soaked away!"

hei bai looks like a ben 10

mounts list (added to as i progressed through the series): zuko's rhinos. earth armored ostriches. metal noshing mole. north pole goatyak. azula and friends' fur geckos. sabertooth moose lion if you're not a wimp. appa-sized beetle. moose with aquatic features. Eel Hound.

you can't out-mom-friend katara. even when she's yelling and being reckless

it's true... airbenders are weak to nets.

the n*tfli* captions are making several mistakes. eat my ass ne*f*ix and hire me to do flawless captioning instead you dumb fucks

YEAH! even by episode 13 in season 1 we already know zuko is a good boy! well also by episode 12. and earlier. well i've seen the series before.

i've just learned that zach tyler eisen is the voice of aang and i have to give him huge props for having the perfect voice. i pay a lot of attention to voice acting, usually in a nitpicky way, and i've never heard an english voice actor whose voice is perfect on the level of ikue ohtani... and when he was like 12 years old. incredible. i'm not being remotely sarcastic

i gotta be 100% honest. i had completely forgotten the existence of zhao and that he's actually a pretty important character, at least in season 1. also his voice actor is pretty good. generally the voice acting is good in this show, and i'm picky.

god the animation where aang makes one catapult catapult the other is so good. also appa just picked up and grabbed a guy. with his fist. wait how many toes does appa have? is that 18 in total? also appa has scutes on his ventrum. anyway i love that appa can pick up and grab a guy but generally chooses not to. gives it more weight when he does choose to

zuko tells turtle seals to be quiet and then touches them unkindly :(

zuko busted out of katara's ice orb instead of melting it :\

zuko put his hood up like iroh told him to but aang just has his naked bald head in the snowy cold :(

seeing zhao grab and bag the moon spirit fish made me feel sick. such a foul act

god. the quality rope. i noticed sokka mention it and was like, "was this a chekhov's gun or a red herring" and then a few minutes later there was a pointed pan over to the quality rope.

anyway examining the quality of the voice acting here leads me to a thesis i might gather evidence to prove: american english voice acting for cartoons is far higher quality than american english voice acting for anime dubs. or is that just something obvious that everyone already agrees on

anyway anyway, the episode ended without the quality rope being put to use. unless i missed it, which is entirely possible.

jesus i heard azula's first lines and got an instant flashback to all the tumblr drama about grey delisle and her tumblr account and how she pretended it wasn't hers or something let's just erase all of this from my brain right now

this is kind of out of nowhere and borderline inappropriate but i'm glad characters in avatar are illustrated with nipples when they're shirtless... it always disturbs me a tiny bit when shirtless characters are depicted with zero nipple, not even a hint of nipple. (Aladdin.) not just because it implicitly stigmatizes something everyone has, but also because this scenario always plays in my head where it's like, a little kid sees a cartoon character without nipples and they think, "so i'm not supposed to have these..." and they start feeling weird and bad about themself... all you need to depict a nipple is a single unobtrusive dot. nothing visually offensive or explicit about it.

even to an audience who doesn't understand any cultural context, you can't not see the significance of zuko and iroh cutting off their topknots...

fandom seems to see sokka as the silliest one when in fact at least 40% of his entire role as a character is to be the tsukkomi

underrated moment: "you've got an elbow leech." "WHERE?! WHERE?!"

zuko should be a good boy and only steal if it's from pirates

stealy zuko stealing money and buying iroh a teapot !

god i forgot what a tiny baby voice toph has... so tiny

zuko trying really really hard but doing a bad job hammering (tears)

azula set up zuko and mai for a lucky sukebe...

when zuko's mom told him not to forget who he is, she didn't mean to remember that he's a prince and an heir as he revealed to the unsuspecting earth kingdom village. she meant to remember that he's someone with at least the base level of empathy and compassion, unlike most of his immediate family...

i still think aang's voice actor did a great job but i bet it sucks to be a young boy doing an excellent young boy voice and then when you grow up a little and presumably experience some puberty you just Cannot do the young boy voice anymore. hopefully in most cases where that happens, it's at least not abrupt

placing a bet that the writer for episode s2:e10 (the library) is different than most of the other episodes. i don't like it very much, at least in the first several minutes. if it's a name i recognize from the credits of several other episodes, i might be a bit disappointed in them. seriously, there's one stinker after another. and with such a great concept of an episode...

i didn't recognize the name of the guy who wrote this episode so i thought i was right but no, he wrote a bunch of episodes. must have been off his game for this one... either that or i'm in a very unforgiving mood and don't realize it... also when i went on wikipedia to look at who wrote which atla episodes, i learned that the animation for the show was split between two animation studios, and they're both korean. ah, i guess that doesn't mean all the animation took place overseas, as DM movie has a headquarters in the US. according to wikipedia.

oh, they're BUZZards... i get it... i gotcha.

aang with a vengeance is both scary and sad to see. but he does understand that property damage is nothing compared to a life

people who love azula are the exact same as people who love vriska: [comment redacted]

they have american birds in the avatar world. i keep hearing an eastern wood-peewee going "pee-pee-uwee" in the background :3

the serpent's pass seems geologically implausible.

sokka should really get face paint all over his face when he kisses suki. or like, the cartoonish image of when someone is covered in lipstick lip smacks, but it should be suki's makeup color

appa's been through so much and now he has to meet a boarcupine?!?! fortunately he still knows how to pick up and grab... but still :(

he touched appa's scutes and read them like a palm...

longshot translated his meaningful stares into out-loud words for katara and friends

zuko forgot that azula always lies :(

zuko should know that being redeemed in his father's eyes is the opposite of what he wants...

i LOVE aang's passionate tsungi horn dance

there are spring peepers in the fire nation

god the dripping of the rotten clams is so excessive

you know how ultrasonic humidifiers can create water vapor without heating it into steam, by vibrating it super fast? let's try that with waterbending, it'll be cool

two different bad guys have been skipped across the water like a rock

i love the fake time lapse of cleaning the river... and it showed how with pollution in real life, stopping the source of the pollution is not enough. it needs to be removed as well

sokka deserves LOTS of credit just for being able to handle a boomerang.

GOD THE SLOW PAN OVER THE BEAUTIFUL SWORD (in 3:4)

sokka also deserves LOTS of credit for being able to admit he doesn't know everything.

i managed to forget that zuko turns his back on iroh, while remembering that at some point, iroh gets buff

the voice of sokka's master is the voice of the boulder. right? right? no? are you kidding me? i suck at this

seems like kissing azula would have immediate consequences, like something melting

zuko is poorly socialized

zuko still forgot that azula always lies. even when she's being somewhat humanized in an episode like this.

so avatar roku had earthly attachments he did not let go of, presumably. such as his wife. did he have unfettered access to the avatar state? that's what i would ask him during this expositionfest if i was aang.

so sozin could do heatbending... that's amazing. i think i missed that the first time around.

that's right, zuko came back and his hair is long enough, but he hasn't recreated his topknot.

hawky is the only atla animal that poops on camera.

if you're gonna bend sweat, you might as well bend spit, and it's a little easier to obtain

wait so... is combustion man also a heatbender? i'll have to look into it later. [looked into it later: the avatar wiki has termed it "combustionbending?" are you shitting me?]

ooh it's the bloodbending episode! i'm pumped.

someone made a post about how when they watched this show and they were a kid they were thinking about how the characters are hot, and now they're watching as an adult and the characters are all tiny children... that's how i've been feeling. also season 3 episode 8 aang's voice sounds a little bit pubertous.

anyway damn this bloodbending episode is outright traumatic. good shit

oh, now zuko's topknot is back.

appa's armor covers each individual toe <:3c

i seriously misremembered the course of zuko's character development. and the timeline of the invasion in general. but now i understand that zuko has to tell his dad to eat shit face to face.

watching zuko's "zuko here" practice speech hurts 100% as much as it did the first time i saw it. and when he's delivering it to the gaang it's impossible to watch. i didn't put my hands on my head-- they just went there unbidden.

i kinda can't help picturing dante basco's face every time i hear zuko talk. the whole time. it's sometimes not optimal to know the faces of voice actors. especially when you're like me and you're not good at pushing out unwanted mental images.

what the fuck, combustion man? he just loves assassination so much you can't take back any orders. also i can't help but imagine that if you put a slice across his third eye his combustion would be fully inhibited. well i guess that's not a problem anymore.

i like that the gaang are a variety of heights, and that they're all noticeably shorter than most of the adults they meet. it just makes it feel realistic

if it was a US max security prison and prisoners were escaping they'd probably just fucking murder them

i love how when mai starts up the gondola again and azula is like "what is she DOING!" and ty lee just makes an "iunno" noise

tfw your best friend abandons you because you wouldn't let her murder her own brother

chit seng didn't get to free his girlfriend and best buddy :(

funny how azula seems almost docile when she's getting everything she wants. typical narcissist. well ok not the least bit typical.

sokka ate the rose. i remembered this scene Too clearly. but i didn't remember that.

um... was that the full moon? when katara bloodbent that guy? i should've looked at the sky... i went back and looked and still didn't see if it was the full moon. maybe the wiki knows. i don't care enough to look it up properly.

i was wondering when the melon lord would show up

none of the teens understand the obvious solution of defeating the fire lord by beating him INTO SUBMISSION (or oblivion) instead of killing him. just like in every anime fight ever. it's over when you acknowledge you've lost or you can't fight anymore, not when you die. (for the #1 best example of ending a fight the right way, see the way luffy defeats crocodile.)

so i know aang's gonna defeat the fire lord by essentially hitting him with a forced purification beam to the face and make him realize the errors of his ways or something. the fun part is how we get there

bumi bending entire houses through the air

aw i forgot the turtle island didn't have a cute face.

jyong jyong firebent a jet platform to fly around on?!

i guess the firelord can fly around like bakugou katsuki

i forgot that aang took away his firebending... and sokka hops up to him like "well, look at you, buster"

i'm glad i decided to watch this again. even if i didn't do a great job paying attention tbh. well i did spend a bit of time carving a little wooden spoon while i was watching. anyway i was thinking i wouldn't move right on to korra but rather read some of the atla comics that i know exist but have never read whatsoever. i wonder if i can find them in some kind of library...

i found the comics illegally on the internet and read a whole bunch (up until the end of the "zuko finds his mom" arc). i didn't write my thoughts down as i was reading, so i don't remember them. that's how my worthless brain works. i do remember that i found the comics satisfactory as an accurate extension of the show, and that i feel ambivalent about how azula is written/treated in the comics.

i don’t know if i feel like rewatching korra yet.

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