#with that introduction you would expect her to show up behind trees or something throughout the game

[tiangouaway]

why was muffy introduced by stalking elise outside of her home at night only for her to never do anything like that again. what

#in retrospect #it's just very weird #especially since muffy's like??? 13 i wanna say? #hell she might be younger #who was letting this pre-teen (?) sneak into the woods so she could stalk a maid #with that introduction you would expect her to show up behind trees or something throughout the game #but she's just always in town #i mean im GLAD i don't want this baby being out in the woods #it just feels like a big scene that gets toned down quickly #waba talk #games #lgts #muffy

[rivendellsstuff]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | Because Grisha Jaeger had placed a lot of expectations on all his children, but especially on (Y/N).

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1790;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. Inspired by the song “Brother“ by Kodaline; and, yes, that is part of a story that I will never publish.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! This is the second time I have ventured into writing a story in English. I hope, with all my heart, that I am managing to evolve and that the text is understandable. If you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.

────── ▎She had no other pleasure that morning than to walk barefoot on the grass, still damp from the light drizzle that had occurred the night before.

She was lightly shaking a small basket, which she had made herself the year before from the thinnest branches of a cherry tree, while she sang a quiet melody among the bushes and trees that began to surround her. It was a very hot and humid afternoon. On the way to the apple tree, the light was so intense that she shielded her eyes.

The aroma of ripe apples began to gather strength around her. With her fingertips, she gently caressed the fruits she loved. They were ready to be picked, and she smiled, satisfied.

A slight rustling from the right side caught the attention of Grisha Jaeger's eldest daughter, startling her, causing her eyes to quickly search for the source of such.

It was Mikasa.

Her gray dress was a shade darker than her eyes and her black hair shone in the sunlight, her hands closed around her red scarf. She knew it was Mikasa's habit to do this to make sure it was always hanging around her neck. Somehow, it seemed to calm her.

''Hey,'' (Y/N) greeted the younger girl. ''Is everything okay?''

At the present moment, she barely spoke to her adopted sister, although everyone seemed charmed by her. Mikasa was an incredibly intelligent and strong child, no doubt she had managed to escape a terrible situation, the mere mention of which made (Y/N)'s stomach clench and her heart soar in her chest. The most remembered mark on the girl's personality, however, was her incredible sense of loyalty to Eren. Of this, anyone who had spent at least two days with her could tell.

And, yes, it was true that the two did not know each other very well, but in light of the short time they had been together, she had found out enough to know that Mikasa was real and part of the family.

''Yes,'' Mikasa answered, shyly, after a minute of silence. ''May I... accompany you?

''Oh, I don't see why not,'' the older woman smiled tenderly.

The two sisters raised their eyes to the apple trees and began picking them by the bunches. The sun was high enough to illuminate the whole place, although its light was in the treetops. A very beautiful and welcoming place. Beside her, Mikasa seemed to think the same, with a small smile on her face and barely blinking her little eyes, wanting to memorize every detail. Even under the intense heat, fatigue didn't seem to discourage either of them.

''Amazing, isn't it?'', (Y/N) inquired to the younger girl, who blinked twice before turning to her. ''Here, hold this.''

Mikasa nodded and held up the small basket.

As (Y/N) tried to balance on the higher branches, Mikasa brought one of the red fruits to her lips, tasting the acidic freshness in her mouth, and her eyes narrowed at the slight acidity that characterized them, while her ears didn't seem to want to part with (Y/N)'s frustrated gasps.

''Oh, no, no!''

Mikasa's eyes widened as (Y/N) falls to the ground. While the girl still had her mouth open in surprise, her sister began to laugh. She remained on the floor, not caring about the wetness, but she didn't let the shadow of a smile escape Mikasa's face.

''Oh, so you think that's funny?'' she asked, and she wiped a single tear from her eyes, shaking her head negatively at her own shame.

With her tiptoe, she pushed the younger woman's heel hard enough to make her fall beside her.

A second lost, and then another.

Finally, letting go of her surprise, she let out a laugh, still holding the basket. It was a happy afternoon, the happiest in a long time for the two sisters, and before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set.

It was a happy afternoon, the happiest in a long time for the two sisters, and before they knew it, the sun was starting to set.

''We'd better go, little one. Mother will be furious with us if we're late for dinner,'' she said, smoothing her dress over her body. ''Let me fix this.''

Mikasa raised one of her eyebrows.

She ran her fingers over the scarf, smoothing it over her body, then lightly pinched the younger girl's nose, just like her mother used to do once upon a time.

The fall of Wall Maria marked the end of an entire era. It was a tragedy; an atrocity. On the day that so many people were torn from their homes and their lives, a permanent shadow shrouded the hearts of Grisha Jaeger's children.

There were no songs in that land that could tell the pain of (Y/N). There were no songs that could tell of Eren's anger. There was no song for the darkness that was submerged in the hearts of the Jaeger's brothers.

Eren and Mikasa were just two children when tragedy struck, and Grisha Yeager's eldest daughter, whose light once lit up the old house in Shiganshina, suddenly becomes an adult plagued by responsibilities too great.

Long weeks after the tragedy, (Y/N) was always trying to protect those kids. To keep them safe. Grisha and Carla never had to tell her that, but (Y/N) always felt like that was her responsibility. She just wanted Mikasa and Eren to be children. Just for a little while longer.

But then there they all were, watching in terror as a crowd was dragged in to reclaim the lost lands. There was no excited shouting or cheering. There was only an annoyed and doubtful murmur from the rest, because everyone seemed to know that it was just a way for the government to get rid of mouths to feed. Men and women, young and old; people with those who had lived for many years, pale and with eyes glistening with tears.

That day, Armin lost his only family.

That day, (Y/N) hugged the three boys and pulled them close, and begged - to whatever divine creature there was - that they would get through it.

Little Armin made no effort to stop the hot tears that wet his (Y/N) clothes when the gates were closed. The hat in his hands, once so light, suddenly seemed to become too heavy, too big. His knees trembled and he fell to the ground.

I am tired of losing friends.

Mikasa tries to swallow the lump forming in her throat. Her gaze was not childish, but knowing, sad, frustrated - no child should have that look. Eren, whose eyes were fixed on his friend's back, felt as if the air was caught in his throat, as if he was suffocating himself.

(Y/N) crouched down at Armin's height. When he raised his face, (Y/N) saw hers eyes mirrored in his blue eyes. She stroked the younger man's face without saying anything, just trying to calm him down.

"I am with you, Armin," she whispered. "I am with you."

''We did it!

The graduation of the 104th Recruit Squadron was a highly anticipated date for Eren, (Y/N), Mikasa and Armin. The date had arrived together with cold and humid weather, with light rains and the presence of little lightning and thunderbolts, but whose noise echoed throughout the place.

Everyone felt something different; Eren was struck with such great courage that he felt as if he could face anything from that moment on. Armin was overcome with a sense of a job well done, mystery, and curiosity about all the things that might be on the other side of the walls. Mikasa felt as if she was doing exactly what she was born to do, and although she didn't show it in words, she was pleased with the prominent position she received among all the other recruits.

After the formal introductions and dinner, the Jaeger's brothers gathered outside on the steps and the moonlight illuminated the entire clearing. There, where they stood, hardly any trees grew. It was cold, but not cold enough to make them sick, only to make them shiver.

For a long time, the two brothers remained sitting on the stairs. Neither of them started a conversation, but they were satisfied that way. After all they had done to survive, they couldn't help but wonder what they would become. Their whole lives had turned upside down after the fall of Wall Maria. They were survivors. They were soldiers.

Whatever they would become, (Y/N) just wanted to be there for Eren. For all of them.

Finally, the older woman put her right arm around Eren's shoulders. Although he was startled by her unexpected attitude, Eren relaxed his muscles and leaned over her. And in the end, that small gesture had been enough.

''I'm proud of us, man. I'm proud of what we've done,'' she said.

Eren nodded.

He listened attentively to her and understood everything she was saying. They had traveled a cruel road, where friends and family were left behind. They had suffered, but they would not give up easily.

Because we are the Jaeger. We don't run.

They fought to survive. They fought to complete their training. They fought to get what they wanted: to join the human cause. This caused many scars.

Eren was just a child like many others, but he had been forced to grow up. (Y/N) was an adult. She could have gone away. There were all the opportunities and all the desires to take what had been promised to her since her late teens - from suitors to the opportunity for study. She could have lived elsewhere and had a family with them, become an ordinary woman. Eren knew that. It would be stupid for her to reject that, foolish for her to keep running.

But she was his sister, and one brother doesn't let the other wander off alone.

Suddenly, Eren remembers. The younger man remembers when they were little, and she would tell a stupid joke to distract him while she put on a bandage after getting into a fight with the bullies who harassed Armin. He remembers how she would take over some of his work in the settlement, or how she would divide the food among the three youngest.

"Thank you for not giving up on me, sis."

That's her nature, he thinks.

And his nature to protect her now. There is nothing in the world he wouldn't do for her.

Eren hugs his sister tighter.

At that moment, what mattered wasn't the graduation. It was that the two siblings were together that night, in that place, looking out into the rainy night and thinking how proud their parents would be.

#aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagines #mikasa ackerman x reader #armin arlet smut #armin arlet imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyoujin imagine

[away-from-anthills]

prologue-

How did they do it?

Antstep mulled the question over as his eyes remained glued to the massive boulder that sat squarely between the four oaks. Four figures sat positioned at the top, their ears pricked as they listened to the groups of chattering cats around them. The smallest of them was exchanging pleasantries with a large blue-gray tom. The largest, a ragged yellow molly, looked away to the north. The sleek gray tom next to her twitched his tail with impatience.

“Those ShadowClan buggers are always late,” he grumbled, but just as he finished his sentence the big yellow molly besides him shoved his shoulder. A group of small, skinny cats entered the clearing, led by a rather handsome red tabby.

“Greetings,” announced the red tom. He effortlessly leapt onto the rock as the conversations died down. “Pardon us for being late. Our youngest queen was giving birth, and it was not an easy one.”

“It’s always something, isn’t it,” started the sleek gray tom, but before he could finish the thought the yellow molly draped her tail over his muzzle.

“Shall we begin?”

The others nodded, and so the smallest of the group, Tulipstar, cleared her throat to speak.

Antstep had always admired Tulipstar. She was impeccably small, about the size of an apprentice, despite RiverClan cats like her usually being large and girthy. Some say it was due to a birth defect- but others in the elders’ den opined that StarClan had made her so small because otherwise she would simply be too much of a force to be reckoned with.

“RiverClan has not been doing well as we would have wished it to,” she admitted. “Rogue groups have been on our borders. We have allotted them territory for the time being to shut them up- but come these next few moons, when our apprentices are ready for battle, we shall take our land back.” She dipped her head and awaited the next cat to come forward and speak.

“SkyClan, however, has been doing wonderfully,” started the sleek gray tom.

“It’s always wonderfully, ain’t it, Pigeonstar!” heckled some cat near the southern edge of the clearing behind Antstep.

Pigeonstar’s face furrowed, and then he continued. “Our most recent batch of apprentices became skilled warriors, and I am pleased to introduce them to you by their proper warrior names at this Gathering. Everyone welcome Birchtail, Nettlebark, and Stoneclaw!”

Pigeonstar doesn’t usually mention new warriors so fast, thought Antstep, and then he looked over in the direction Pigeonstar was gesturing to to see three gray tabbies identical to the SkyClan leader. Oh- Of course he’s introducing them so fast. They’re his kits.

“The greenleaf drought has been merciful to SkyClan this year, and we thank it for that. Besides the apprentice graduations, little else of note has happened in SkyClan since we last met.” He sat back down. The red tabby stepped up to speak.

“While we in ShadowClan are not doing as well as we had hoped we would, we are doing quite well. You may have heard about the fire that recently destroyed part of our territory. While we are lucky that most of us have emerged safe, three of our warriors- Turtlewing, Darkwhisker, and Stormfoot- unfortunately lost their lives to the blaze.”

A ripple of condolences echoed throughout the clearing. Currantstar eased his body slightly, leaving the clearing a moment to understand. Antstep noted burn scars at Currantstar’s feet- clearly, despite Currantstar’s young age, this was a cat who took up the mantle of leadership fully knowing what it would entail. He seemed… almost perfect. The fact he was quite a handsome thing- especially for a ShadowClanner- didn’t help.

“However, tonight we celebrate new life within ShadowClan. Just before we left, Nightwater gave birth to four healthy kits, all her spitting image: Ravenkit, Blackkit, Sharpkit, and Juniperkit!”

Another ripple, this time of celebration, echoed throughout the clearing. Pigeonstar seemed slightly disgruntled that his children’s warrior names had not received as much applause.

As soon as he had begun, Currantstar stepped back. A gaunt, blue-gray tom stepped up. His face was long and bony, and his pelt was crisscrossed with scars. His eyes were weary, and the bumps of his spine were visible from age.

Antstep felt his chest swell as he watched the tom open his mouth to speak. After all, this cat had been his leader, his mentor, the closest thing to a father Antstep had known.

Shalestar, the almighty leader of WindClan.

“WindClan has been faring well this past Greenleaf. Like our SkyClan friends, we are lucky to be treated kindly by the drought.”

Antstep looked around. Rainleap, the WindClan deputy, stood just below the great rock, a proud grin on his face as he studied every syllable that left Shalestar’s lips. It was generally accepted within WindClan that, as Shalestar was upon his final life, Rainleap would soon ascend as Rainstar- and everyone deeply anticipated the spotted tabby’s leadership. He was charismatic, he was courteous. He knew everyone and everything in WindClan like the back of his paw to the point that, if you brought him a leaf from any weeping willow within the territory, he could tell you not just what tree it was from but the exact bow and branch it had resided upon. Rainleap was to become a wonderful WindClan leader- even Pigeonstar, the grumpy sod, seemed to appreciate him.

“However, the last moon has not passed by without its troubles. An illness swept through our camp. Nearly all of us survived- unfortunately, our dear Palefeather passed from the illness.”

There was audible sadness from some cats near the northern end of the clearing.

“You may recall her as our former medicine cat, who served us many moons before she retired to the elder’s den last leaf-fall. She was a wonderful companion to me in the darkest hours of my leadership. She was an extraordinary teacher, she was an adamant follower to the stars above, a devotee to her kin, and a gifted healer for all of us in WindClan. We miss her terribly.”

The medicine cats, who were in their own little corner off to the side of the Great Rock, seemed heartbroken by the news. Whitetooth, the WindClan medicine cat and Palefeather’s apprentice, looked more alone than ever, despite the sympathies uttered to them.

“However, with the end of a time, another always begins. I am proud to introduce  our two newest apprentices- warrior apprentice Twigpaw and medicine cat apprentice Marblepaw!”

Twigpaw, who was directly behind Antstep with his mentor Molethroat, was lapping up the attention. Marblepaw, however, seemed alarmed. She leaned into Whitetooth’s side, and her mentor draped their tail around her.

“We also have a litter of kits to announce,” continued Shalestar. Molethroat couldn’t hold in his excitement. “Those are my kits!” he exclaimed to the mingling cats from other Clans. “They look just like my mate! I love them so much!”

Shalestar, however, was calm, even though there was a sliver of optimism in his voice. “We are proud to announce Cherrynose’s kits- Olivekit, Rosekit, Amberkit, Brindlekit, and Patchkit.”

“Oh, all of them are so wonderful,” continued Molethroat, his whiskers twitching with sheer joy. “Rosekit and Amberkit are so smart! They amaze me every day. And Brindlekit is so bold, and Olivekit is so thoughtful, and Patchkit is so kind… They sneak out of the nursery to wake me up from the warriors’ den nearly every morning. And my mate is so patient with them, I’m the luckiest cat in the world to have her. I tell you, I could go to StarClan tomorrow and I still would think I had the greatest life…”

Antstep looked around. WindClan was as peaceful as he had ever known it to be. Goldenpaw and Milkpaw, two WindClan apprentices, signed to each other, poking fun at the other leaders. Russetfoot, Rockscratch, and Emberheart, three WindClan warriors, were chatting to a trio of RiverClan cats. Even Sandwhisker- the sister of Palefeather, and the oldest WindClan warrior- looked content, despite the loss she had suffered the prior moon.

Antstep never knew if he would fully fit in WindClan. But this is a WindClan he was, for the most part, content living alongside.

A cold chill snapped Antstep out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see the largest cat take the stand as Shalestar stepped back.

Tatteredstar had been ThunderClan leader for a very, very long time. She had been one of the most formidable fighters ThunderClan ever knew- and the scars crisscrossing her pelt gave plenty to show for it. She could kill a rat just by looking at it from the right angle, they said. No leader dared to mess with her.

“ThunderClan has been doing pleasantly enough. Juncopaw, who you may recall from his introduction last Gathering, has elected to train as a medicine cat, and so he will be trained by Emberblaze. I expect her to pass down all she knows to him. We have many mollies due for kits within the next moon. We are all very excited about it- but it will undoubtedly mean ThunderClan has more mouths to feed.”

Without warning, she turned to Tulipstar. She was nearly thrice as large as the RiverClan leader, and she easily had dozens more scars. “I am making a request that RiverClan gives up Sunningrocks to us immediately. I understand this is sudden news- but RiverClan, if they know what is best for themselves, will back off of the territory.”

Many incensed RiverClan cats jumped up to speak- but most of them found their words lost when Tatteredstar shot them a pointed glare.

Tulipstar, however, stepped towards Tatteredstar, nothing breaking her green gaze as she stared upwards to the massive yellow molly. “RiverClan has fought for seasons to keep Sunningrocks. We, too, need the territory, for our own mouths to feed. I thought we had reached an agreement last leaf-fall that RiverClan could hold the territory until the leaf-fall after. We still have a season left on that agreement.”

“Old agreements mean nothing now.”

“If ThunderClan wants more mouths to feed, expand the territory elsewhere, Tatteredstar. We both know your warriors are capable. They will not be intruding on RiverClan’s hard-earned territory.”

The two mollies slowly inched towards each other, their noses wrinkled and their lips slightly curled. The tension between them was palpable, and no other leader dared to speak. This was Tulipstar and Tatteredstar’s score to settle and theirs alone. Their respective deputies, Trufflepelt and Eelwhisker, tried to shuffle towards them- not only to back them up but to pull them away from each other if claws were unleashed.

The clearing went dead silent.

Even though WindClan was in no way involved, Antstep felt fear coursing through his veins as he watched the two leaders stare at each other inches apart.

Then, Tatteredstar sheathed her claws into the matted fur that bunched at her feet. “You’ve got a nerve in you, runt,” she said, with hints of respect and perhaps even something resembling affection. “RiverClan can have Sunningrocks for now.”

The two backed away from each other, Trufflepelt and Eelwhisker eased, and the tension slipped away as the murmur of Clan cats returned.

“I suppose the Gathering is over, now,” Shalestar said. “Let us return to our camps in peace.”

As Rainleap began to organize WindClan, Antstep still felt adrenaline rush through him from the confrontation between Tulipstar and Tatteredstar- as well as a bit of awe. The way all the leaders composed themselves so well. The way Tulipstar didn’t back down, the way Tatteredstar knew when to call it quits. The charisma of Currantstar, the pride of Pigeonstar, the wisdom of Shalestar…

How did they do it? How did they all do it?

Antstep felt a kitlike wonder- and a kitlike envy. He turned to see Rainleap nod towards the journey home, the light of the moon shining in the WindClan deputy’s lime-green eyes. As Molethroat and Rockscratch chattered behind him, Antstep let himself get lost in his thoughts. Rainleap will make a wonderful leader- I wonder how his first gathering will go…  I wonder how I’d do. I mean, of course Rainleap will be the next leader. Everyone knows that. But it must feel nice to be up on that rock, to be there with the greats… To be loved by your Clan. I wouldn’t want the stress, of course, but… I would want that.

Wouldn’t anyone?

Little did Antstep know, his life was on the cusp of changing forever.

#warrior cats #story

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer at the Burrow / r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push / Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions / Chapter 10: You Would Be Fine

Chapter 11: Spell It Out

It was the night of Percy's birthday party and you had successfully avoided Ron the entire day. It wasn't difficult to do, considering the fact that everyone was so hectic and busy running around to complete Percy's demanding orders. He was usually uptight, but the stress of his work friends and boss attending his party had him so wound up you were afraid he was going to snap in two.

Not ready to face Ron after your screaming match last night, you stuck by Hermione and Ginny's side the entire day as everyone prepared for the party. You also avoided Bill too, just in case Ron was still jealous enough to make a scene. You didn't want any more emotional outbursts for a while. You were a little worn out from those this summer.

Now you stood next to the large oak tree, you had come to call it your tree ever since you snuck out at night to sit by it, and observed the party. Wizards in capes and tunics milled about, mingling with one another while sipping the punch Mrs Weasley had made. A laugh bubbled out of you as you remembered the verbal whipping she had given Fred and George when the twins tried to spike the punch with their newest prank concoction.

"It's a nice night, isn't it?" A velvet voice asked you. Turning around, you were met with the smiling eyes of Penelope Clearwater, Percy's girlfriend. You had seen her around school before she graduated, and she was really smart. She was top of her class in Ravenclaw, and her straight black hair framed her delicate features nicely. She was really pretty and you were surprised she was with someone as irritating as Percy.

"It's wonderful," you replied, turning back to admire the decorations of the night. Your muggle Christmas lights were a huge hit, and you watched as Ministry officials stepped closer to the bulbs to inspect them further. Everyone looked in awe of them. The night was perfect summer weather. It was warm enough that people could wear dresses but not too hot that those in long capes got too overheated.

You toyed with the hem of your dress absentmindedly. Since you hadn't brought any fancy clothes with you from home, Ginny had lent you one of her dresses. Ginny hated wearing dresses, "How can I play Quidditch in a dress?" she used to complain to her mom, but Mrs Weasley still made or bought a couple of them for her. You were glad she did, because the white dress you were wearing right now was stunning. Although you were a little taller than Ginny, the dress fit like a glove. It had a delicate lace neckline with matching short sleeves and came down to right above your kneecaps. When you had walked out of Ginny's closet to show her your outfit, she had grinned and said, "Ron doesn't know what he's missing."

Sighing as your brain yet again wandered to the redheaded boy, you turned to Penelope to take your mind off of him. You chatted with her for a few minutes about her work, and she was surprisingly a lot more interesting than Percy made her out to be. She was intelligent and passionate about her work, and pretty soon you and her began talking like old friends.

"It was really nice of you to help Percy plan for this party," she said, giving you a warm smile that almost made you forget all of your current boy troubles. "He appreciates it, even if he can't find the words to tell you. I know he can be a bit uptight sometimes, but he's really a good guy. I'm so thankful for him."

When Penelope talked about Percy, her eyes lit up and her elegant smile grew.

"You must really love him, huh?" You asked her. Your heart ached because you knew what it was like to care for someone that much. At least Percy loved her back.

She nodded. "I wasn't really expecting to. At first we were kind of in competition with one another, to see who would be the best Prefect. But then feelings developed, and everything changed." She laughed to herself and said, "sometimes, love happens unexpectedly."

"That's what Mrs Weasley told me," you commented, remembering your conversation in the kitchen.

Penelope raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at you. "You get love advice often from your boyfriend's mother?" she asked jokingly.

Not even bothering to hide your blush, you replied, "He's not my boyfriend." But oh Merlin, you wished he was.

"Really?" she asked, the moonlight illuminating her perfect features. "Huh, from the way you two acted back at Hogwarts, I would have thought you'd been in love for years."

Only one of us, you thought.

After chatting with Penelope a little bit more, you both made your way back to the party when dessert was served. Ice cream, tarts, and chocolate cake greeted you when you walked up to the dessert table. Your brain was so distracted by all of the delicious food that you barely noticed Bill walking up next to you.

"Hi y/n," he said as you spooned some ice cream into a bowl. You smiled politely at him as he made a bowl for himself.

"Hello," you said, topping your dessert off with sprinkles and chocolate sauce and whipped cream. Mrs Weasley really made the best food of all time. You were going to miss her cooking when the summer was over. Thinking about the end of summer sent a pang of sadness throughout your body. Although the summer had been fun, it was winding to an end and your last year of Hogwarts would be soon. You were going to miss your friends and the Weasley family.

Bill followed you to an empty table and you both sat down, immediately digging into your ice cream. Neither of you spoke as the next few minutes were reserved for devouring the delicious food. After you had both finished, Bill looked up at you and chuckled.

"What?" you asked defensively. It seemed like he was laughing at you.

"You got a little something right there," he said, motioning towards the corner of your mouth.

Embarrassed, you swiped at your mouth, but Bill kept chuckling.

"Here, I got it," he said, reaching across the table to wipe the extra ice cream off your mouth with his napkin. He was so close you could smell that pine-needle scent on him. His eyes met yours and you tried to steady your breathing. This felt wrong, you thought. I want this to be somebody else.

"Thanks," you replied, leaning back in your chair to put some space between you.

Bill nodded, folding the napkin casually before dropping it in his lap.

"You're really over me, aren't you?" He asked. At the same time the words left his lips, your eyes caught on the sight of a lanky ginger boy stealing ice cream from Harry's bowl when his head was turned. Your stomach flipped at just the sight of Ron.

"Yeah, I am," you responded, still not looking away from the boy you loved.

You heard Bill standing before you saw him getting up from the table.

"You should tell Ron," he said.

"Tell him what?" you asked, forgetting how clever Bill was. He gave you a knowing smile before speaking again.

"If someone loved me as fiercely as you two love each other, I would sure as hell fight for it."

And just like that, Bill walked away, towards a blonde girl you recognized as Fleur Delacour from the Triwizard tournament. You had no idea why she was attending Percy Weasley's birthday party, but Bill introduced himself to her anyway.

With Bill gone, you were alone with your thoughts. Bill had said "as you two love each other," implying that Ron felt the same way. Although you were almost certain Ron didn't love you back, Bill's words gave you a new sense of hope. A fire ignited in your heart as you looked back at Ron, who was joking and goofing around with Harry. That boy, however flawed and imperfect he was, was the one you loved. You couldn't just give him up because you had one disagreement.

"I would sure as hell fight for it."

Maybe that's all you and Ron needed, just one of you to build the courage to fight for the other. It was there, standing under the stars and twinkling lights of the summer night, that you decided that person was going to be you. You weren't going to sit around, crying for a boy to want you. Instead, you stood up and made your way over to Ron. You had held your love for him in your heart for so long, it was time to finally let it free and tell him.

As you walked across the grass yard towards him, Harry and Hermione saw you approaching and left. Bless them for being such good friends. Now Ron was alone and he looked up at you from across the sea of moving bodies and lights. His eyes met yours with a smile, and your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. He was looking at you differently, you realized. Maybe it was the dress that fit you so well, maybe it was the moonlight shining on your skin, or maybe it was just years of longing and desire building up to this very moment. Because as you walked towards him, Ron thought, "There's my love."

You weren't aware of what Ron was thinking but you knew he was in a significantly different mood from the last time you spoke. By now, you were almost at Ron's table, and he stood up quickly to greet you, knocking a couple spoons off the table in his haste.

"Hi," you said shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear when you were a couple feet from him.

His eyes glanced up and down your figure and he before he could think, he blurted out, "You look beautiful."

You couldn't tell whose cheeks turned redder, yours or his. But in that moment you didn't really care, all you cared about was coming over here to tell him the truth of how you felt.

"I have something to tell you," you started. "I-"

An explosive BOOM ricocheted into the night sky, cutting off your words. Everyone looked around them in surprise, and a second later another BOOM echoed, followed by a loud CRACK as fireworks were released into the sky.

"Welcome to Fred and George's Magical Firework Extravaganza! Please enjoy the show!" you heard the twins voices magically project throughout the garden. At their words, more fireworks erupted in the sky, vibrant colors of blue and red painting the dark backdrop. They were so loud that you knew your chance to tell Ron that you loved him would have to wait until later, when it was quieter. In the meantime, you were going to enjoy the show.

Scooting next to Ron, you both leaned against the table together, your faces angled up to watch the sky. Firework after firework was released, each more intense than the last. Before you could even wonder what made their fireworks different from muggle fireworks, you received your answer.

One firework spiraled up into the air and exploded into a large green dragon. It swam through the stars before opening it's mouth to breath fire. But instead of fire coming out, orange and red sparkly figures danced out of the beast's mouth. At first you thought they were leprechauns, similar to the ones at the Quidditch World Cup show. But upon closer inspection, you started to recognize the figures.

"That's us! That's our family!" Ron said, his voice giddy with childlike excitement.

Leading the pack of orange figures made up of the firework trails and sparks was Fred and George, clad in the silly three piece suit that they had teased Percy about so relentlessly. Next came sparks in the shape of Mr and Mrs Weasley, walking hand and hand with one another. The rest of the family followed in age order; Bill, Charlie, Percy (who was wearing a large IT'S MY BIRTHDAY button), Ron, and then Ginny. After them followed Hermione, Harry, you, and Penelope. You laughed up at the firework version of yourself, beyond amazed at the magic it must have taken to make this special show.

Suddenly, you felt a pang of fear. The memory of Fred and George saying, "the fireworks are nonrefundable, we have to use them," and "we thought you would have told Ron how you felt by the time of Percy's party." Oh no, you realized. You were too late. You closed your eyes and cringed as you thought about what was about to happen next.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you saw all the firework figures doing a line dance and kicking in time with one another. Everyone in the garden was laughing, clapping, and cheering for the show.

Then, pink firework hearts exploded into the sky. Here it comes, you thought.

In a giant red heart, the figures of Penelope and Percy emerged, holding hands and walking together. Laughter filled the garden as everyone enjoyed the cheesy display. Looking over at Percy, you were expecting him to be embarrassed by Fred and George's show. Instead, he smiled wide, simply wrapping his arm around Penelope and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Next, Mr and Mrs Weasley emerged from the heart, waltzing with one another through the sky. People cheered and awed at their dance. You looked over at the real Mr and Mrs Weasley and your heart warmed as you saw Mr Weasley sweep up his wife in a goofy manner, beginning to waltz her through the garden just like in the sky.

Following them in the sky came Harry and Ginny. Everyone laughed when Ginny's figure scooped Harry up bridal style and kissed him on the lips. Fake smoke erupted from Harry's firework ears as he kissed her back. So I guess you and Ron weren't the only ones the twins would tease about their love life. You glanced over at the real Ginny and Harry, laughing as you saw Ginny slapping her knees from laughing so hard. Harry stood next to her, his face as red as the fireworks.

After their figures left the sky, you knew what was coming.

"You don't think they're gonna..." Ron started, his voice sounding shocked.

"Yes, I think they are," you responded, equally as stunned at Fred and George's antics.

And then there you were. Yours and Ron's firework figures were running through the heart together, your hair whipping behind you in a beautiful display of orange and red sparks. Your heart stopped when you saw Firework Ron turning to Firework y/n, dipping her low into a stereotypically cheesy pose, and kissing her. The garden erupted into even louder cheers and laughter. Fred and George were smiling and giving you double thumbs up from across the garden.

You couldn't help it, you laughed along with them. It was so ridiculous, that everyone knew how you and Ron felt about each other all these years, everyone except the two of you. It took Fred and George literally having to spell it out in the summer night sky for you to realize that maybe Ron did feel the same way.

You turned from watching the sky to Ron, still laughing, and noticed he wasn't looking at the fireworks. He was looking at you. He was looking at you like you were the most important thing in the summer night, nevermind the fact that there was a grand firework special going on behind him.

Before you knew what was happening, Ron had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the oak tree on the side of the house. Since everyone had gathered in the garden to watch the fireworks, the tree was well away from the others and it was significantly quieter. Your heart was beating so loud you were sure it was just as loud as the booms of the fireworks. The show continued in the sky as Ron led you to the tree, not releasing your hands until your back was pressed against the hard bark of the oak.

"Y/n," he whispered, leaning closer and closer to you. His hands slipped out of yours as he reached up to cup the sides of your face.

"I have something to tell you," he breathed, his eyes glancing from your lips to your eyes.

You held your breath, heart hammering against your ribcage, as you waited for the words you had been dying to hear for years.

#Ron #Ron Weasley #ronald weasley #ronweasley #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fan fiction #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #ron weasly x reader #reader x ron weasley #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter references #harrypotterfanfiction #Harry Potter fan fic #harry potter fan fiction #harry potter preferences #hogwarts #Rupert Grint #rupert grint imagine #rupert grint fan fic #rupert grint fan fiction #friendstolovers #friends to lovers

[rayadraws]

end of an era

Oh my gosh anon, our waiting is OVER. Patiently, not so patiently yearning… wishing… hoping… dreaming… we have IT.

I gotta talk about it, because of course I do, ahhh! This will be long, sorry…

I got my hands on the OVA this morning, about half an hour before work. I watched it, yelled on Discord and then went to work, practically vibrating the whole day until I could go home and watch it again and write down my thoughts!

Before release I had seen what available video clips and screenshots we had, plus a summary given to me by a Japanese mutual, in somewhat limited English. I was unsure what to expect but I ended up enjoying it a lot more than I thought I might! I understand that there’s a lot one can be confused or perhaps even put off by in the OVA but. Well. I enjoy seeing a vulnerable Genos (if like 90 % of the fanfic I’ve written wasn’t an indication lol) so I just ate it all UP. And since I’ve written a fic about him getting amnesia specifically, I was very curious to see how off the mark I was.

I won’t give a proper summary, there’s a good one by Nysh for that. Nor the animation. JC Staff is what JC Staff is. I’m instead going to just… muse and compare and go wild with my own personal headcanons - in that regard, this OVA was excellent, because it does give some hints about what makes Genos tick. Hold on to your butts…

Oh, and need I say that there will be SPOILERS? XD

—

Before I wrote my own amnesia fic, I did some research. So, what is amnesia? Well, the popular TV show version is one thing, of course RL is another. There are several kinds of amnesia, with different causes and different treatments. But the two main categories are longterm memory loss, where you can’t recall past memories (often up to what caused the amnesia) and short term memory loss, where you have difficulty forming new memories. You can get one or both. In my fic, Genos deals with both. In the OVA, he appears to have longterm memory loss only, as he tries to find Fubuki again to help him defeat the monster (if only he knew Saitama would by far have been a better choice!), so he remembers her. Not to mention at the end, when he’s trying desperately to apologize…

There is no instant cure for amnesia. Emotional support is important, medication (if it’s caused by underlying disease, which it can be) and psychological therapy can also be useful. Saitama is doing the right thing in the OVA by remaining calm and trying to avoid agitating Genos or pushing him to remember.

After he first wakes up, Genos is very lost, he only remembers his name and that he’s a cyborg - but not why! It’s really heartbreaking when you think a little more about it - imagine waking up in a cyborg body and not remembering why/how that happened… We actually discussed that on Discord before we had the OVA, what if he wakes up and doesn’t remember… but nahh, that’d be too dark, right? APPARENTLY NOT.

I can’t explain why Genos would be so heavily influenced by media around him as he is. That’s just made up for the humour… but if I were to try to find an actual in-world explanation, hm… Well, we do know he can be a Drama Boy. We also know he tends to be very standoffish and reserved towards most people, which I think is related to his trauma, in a few ways (he doesn’t want to get close to people due to the risk of once again experiencing the pain of losing them - and spending four years more or less on your own during your late teenage years is not an ideal environment for learning how to socialize…). We also know that when Genos finds something or someone he considers important, he latches on. So you could see it as being part of that, perhaps. Lost and confused he looks for anything that would make some kind of sense, trying to find a sense of direction or idea on whom he might be.

What exactly did you forget? Your quest for revenge or the sale you briefly remember later? Knowing Genos, it could be either…

He reacts in confusion to his body telling him that there’s an elevated energy signature nearby - I LOVED this. I wonder if he saw it as a note on his HUD, or if it’s more ingrained, more subtle. The way he got antsy and couldn’t sit still… it’s like his proximity sensors act as an extra sense, like Spiderman’s spider sense…. An extra sense that’s probably saved his life on more than one occasion.

He takes off, feeling like it’s his body moving, not him. I don’t think his body has an separate will of its own, but I have always hc:ed that he probably has systems that can calculate stuff for him mid-fight - how to move, where to release his weapons and at what strength etc. A little helpful internal computer. It’s a LOT for one little monkey brain to keep track of, so it wouldn’t be crazy to think he has some help with that, I think. And here, I don’t think his body is truly moving on his own without him having any control of it… more like muscle memory? Like there are times where I think I’ve forgotten a password to my work computer if I’ve been away for a week but then I sit down and my fingers remember the typing motions on their own. I imagine it’s something like that. He doesn’t know what to do, so he’s going where his instincts tell him.

Fubuki, ah, ever the scheming one. I enjoyed her showing up and being casual at Sai’s place because that’s how I like to write her in my fics. You can see the exact second when she goes into Business Mode, playing hard to get to lure Genos closer. Too bad she didn’t consider just how much his personality changed too, came on way too strong in the end…

And!!! A couple of times Genos puts his hand in defense, without seeminly knowing why, or doing it intentionally really. Hmmmm where…. have I seen this before…

He jumped when a warning flashed at the corner of his vision. It was his proximity sensors going off, his HUD informed him. On instinct, he ducked down behind the nearest tree. He should go back. Kuseno would keep him safe. But if he moved, the stranger might see him too. Don’t turn your back on an enemy.

His sensors told him the direction and the general size of the approaching being, but he couldn’t actually see it between the tall trees. It was moving very fast. He ducked lower, ferns brushing softly against his cheek. On instinct, he held his palm out in front of him, open and pointed at whatever was approaching him.

I am SO glad that I called this in my fic, it’s a small detail but it adds a lot I think! Raising his palm as a threat is second nature to Genos, even when he doesn’t consciously know why he’s doing it…

It’s interesting that throughout, Genos keeps referring to himself as “boku”, which is usually reserved for a male who is younger than 16 (though there are exceptions - Amai Mask also uses it, probably as part of his charming idol persona). Usually Genos refers to himself as “ore”, which is mostly used by adult men, more informal and can be viewed as disrespectful, depending on circumstance (Genos is not typically respectful towards people, if they are not Kuseno or Saitama). Combined with how meek he is, man… Okay, ONE said that before the mad cyborg attack, Genos’ personality was about the same as it is now. So why is he so different? Well… I don’t think that’s too shocking, really. I mean, if you lost all your memories and sense of self, realized you were a cyborg for some reason???, ended up alone in a weird city, not knowing where you were or what to do, and suddenly people pointed at you asking you to fight a terrifying monster even though you have no idea how to fight… you’d probably be terrified too! I think we can assume his personality change is caused by his amnesia. But we can probably also assume that a Genos who never had his village attacked and never got involved with fighting/being a hero would not grow to be exactly the same as canon, anyway. He’d probably be a rude brat… but yeah. At least a few degrees less aggressive/ready to throw down!

Again with the hand!

A thought I had reading the exchange between the monster and Genos… it reads almost like how you might expect Genos’ meeting with the mad cyborg might have looked like, only in a sad, reverse kind of way. These lines - “I’m not ready yet… I’m not ready to die here… not yet!” - like, dude… that sounds exactly what might have gone through his head back then. Maybe the first inkling of his past returning to him at that second…

He feels something, remembers something, is shocked.. and it comes back… “I cannot win like this!”. And then he remembers Kuseno, and Saitama…

Once more, those lines together: “I’m not ready yet… I’m not ready to die here… not yet! I cannot win like this!”

We’ll probably never get it verified, but I find it very, very likely he used more or less these exact words, or something very similar, after meeting the mad cyborg.

Also, as much as I appreciate the closeness between Genos and Saitama, I AM glad that he remembered Kuseno first - he’s known Kuseno for four years, Saitama for less than 2 months, when this takes place. It’s only right and it fits very well with his character introduction too, where he thought he was dying and his last thought was an apology to Kuseno. A nice nod. I enjoyed that animation sequence a lot too!

When he remembers who he is, Genos feels so bad about his actions but he still can’t deny what he said before… Saitama’s face… omg… Bless them both.He brings Saitama wild/game meat - d'ya figure he bought it or, um… got it for free? I mean, that’s… exactly the kind of creature he fought… maybe he’s learnt Sensei’s ways…

And Saitama is happy he’s back. He cares about Genos! He likes him like he is, as intense and blunt and socially awkward as he is! What a sweet note to end the OVA on!

#opm s2 #ova 3 #anime spoilers #ova spoilers #amnesia #ahhhhAAAAAHHH

[hilarieburtonmorgan]

Hilarie Burton Morgan On Home Beyond Hollywood And Working Beside Her Husband On ‘The Walking Dead’

FilmMagic

From her standout performances on beloved television series to a recent bestselling memoir, Hilarie Burton Morgan continues to take us along on her journey called life. Beginning her career as a MTV VJ in 2000 to regularly lighting up the small screen ever since, the 38-year-old actress and author wears multiple hats these days, with an even more important title of mother & wife leading her charge. Now with several exciting projects on the horizon, including her long-anticipated introduction into the expanding world of The Walking Dead beside her husband Jeffrey Dean Morgan , Hilarie is no doubt maintaining a lasting impression.

To truly appreciate her on-screen chemistry with Jeffrey, it would be helpful to know how they first connected off-screen. “I knew right away,” Hilarie tells Forbes about how soon she knew Jeffrey was the person for her, while sharing the story of how they met. “My very dear friend Danneel Ackles is married to Jensen Ackles and I would stay at their house every time I would go out to LA. When I was 26, I went to stay at their house and I think they got sick of me dating drifters. So Jensen was like ‘I’m going to introduce you to someone that I want to hang out with’ and he introduced me to Jeffrey, who had played his dad on Supernatural . It was pretty from the jump. He started sending me packages right away of books and love letters and he laid it on nice and thick and it worked! Here we are 12 years later.”

AFP via Getty Images

Easter Sunday on AMC, The Walking Dead will reveal to viewers the backstory of Jeffrey’s character Negan and his ailing wife Lucille, played by Hilarie. Even though this important “Here’s Negan” season finale episode will be the first time you will actually see Lucille in action, Hilarie points out that her character has played an integral part on the hit series for some time now. “The mythology of Lucille has been around as long as Negan has been around,” Hilarie explains. “When it was introduced that he had a baseball bat that he used to kill people named Lucille, obviously there were questions surrounding who that was named after and he has been pretty forthcoming throughout the series that his dead wife was the inspiration for the name and he has talked a number of times about her cancer diagnosis, about her death, about what that loss meant to him. While Negan and my husband have been vilified over the last five or so years, to me what Lucille is, is a real glimpse into who Negan was pre-apocalypse and the man that she wanted him to be.”

Hilarie says being a real-life married couple portraying a married couple on television was an experience they really enjoyed together. “It was really wonderful. We have a really similar energy on-set. Neither one of us takes ourselves very seriously. We like joking around.” Hilarie also hopes that fans will better understand the violent ways of Negan after they get to see the love and heartbreak that he came from. “If there was ever a time for people to understand Negan’s aggression or his way of doing things, I feel like the entire world has been prepped for that over the last year. So Lucille comes in as the person who loves him the most and loves him even with his flaws. Perhaps the audience if they don’t already love him, which they should, perhaps they can follow Lucille’s example and love him through the tough stuff.”

Josh Stringer/AMC

In reality, Hilarie’s life with Jeffrey and their two kids is far less dramatic. When their son was in preschool, the couple decided to set roots as a growing family in Upstate New York and ultimately build their home on a farm. “We rescue animals and we got tons of chickens and ducks and cows and llamas and an emu and a donkey that are in love. We have got a really large vegetable garden that we definitely expanded on during quarantine and our son just turned eleven and our daughter is three and they are fully onboard with getting involved in there.”

Following the unexpected death of their local family friend Ira Gutner, Hilarie and Jeffrey decided to become co-owners of Samuel’s Sweet Shop to keep Ira’s storefront from closing, with the help of a handful of nearby friends, including another familiar face, actor Paul Rudd. “It has been such a wonderful experience for our kids because they all know what their first job is going to be,” Hilarie adds. “It has been fun for our community because we have been able to use it as the trophy case for all our food artists in town. During quarantine, when you can’t celebrate with the people you love, we hired all new people and created a new space to do gift baskets. It was so wonderful that our community and people from all over the country were supporting a small business, because we know what lockdown did to those this year.”

AMC

Last May, in the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, Hilarie published her memoir The Rural Diaries: Love, Livestock and Big Life Lessons Down on Mischief Farm . In the book, which she says is meant to be a love letter to her husband, her community and her children, Hilarie very openly discusses the miscarriages she endured and says she did not expect so many people to connect with her story over the past year. “This has been a book that people have gifted their friends or their loved ones during a really difficult time. For me, the responsibility of being a voice for people who have felt like they needed to keep miscarriages or infertility a secret, I’m very serious about it. I never want to cheapen that for anyone because I know how terrible it is to fall asleep at night devastated.” Hilarie is currently writing a second book, which she hopes to have done by next year.

Even as new projects continue to pop up for Hilarie, her nostalgic fan-favorite projects from yesteryear also seem to have the possibility of returning in some capacity. When discussing her role as Sara Ellis on the stylish con artist series White Collar and her commitment to finding a way to work with that cast family again through a revival series or simply together on a new project, Hilarie says, “We’re going to get the band back together, hell or high water. We love each other.”

Hilarie’s six seasons starring as Peyton Sawyer on the hit drama series One Tree Hill has led to her having a substantially large and vocal fanbase for nearly two decades now . “Peyton was the Negan of One Tree Hill because there are people who really hated her and then there were people who really loved how messy she was. Those are the characters that I have always been drawn to, which is probably why I am so defensive of my husband’s character. I love Peyton Sawyer. I put so much of my real self into that character and really fought for her a lot behind the scenes.” When reflecting on the longevity of this series that ran from 2003-2012, Hilarie has noticed the loyal One Tree Hill fan community growing larger and larger as time goes on, as younger generations are now experiencing the series for the very first time through the in-demand world of video streaming. “It’s going to be weird when my son or my daughter comes of age and has to reckon with all the dumb stuff their mother did in her early twenties because it’s there forever,” Hilarie jokes.

FilmMagic

When referencing her One Tree Hill co-stars, which include Sophia Bush, Bethany Joy Lenz, James Lafferty and Chad Michael Murray, Hilarie says, “Those are going to be the people that I’m close with forever. Those are the people who were with me when I was most unsure about myself and we’ve all seen each other fall in love and break up and been through it. All of those life experiences matter, now that we are almost twenty years later and we’ll love each other forever. We’re always scheming on how to continue to work together.” When hoping Hilarie will elaborate further with any hints for fans, she responds, “I will say that the girls in particular are very, very close. We went through a lot together on that show and we evolved together on that show and so we may have some things in the works that we will be excited to promote later this summer.”

As Hilarie strives to make time for her new and revisited projects, she is consistently striving to make her family’s schedules work as one. “We definitely take turns. Jeffrey’s Walking Dead schedule is obviously the thing that takes precedent. So if I can maintain my side hustles around that (laughs) . The kids’ school year is a big deal for us and what has been really lovely is that in the time we have lived in the Hudson Valley, the film community there has really blossomed. Everything is about making it work for the family and I think once you have that as your center point, it makes every other decision that rolls around it very easy.”

Hilarie wrapped up our conversation thinking about other women in the world right now that have to juggle many responsibilities at once during this life-altering era of the pandemic. “For me, the struggle is always between being a good mom and working and quarantine pulled so many women out of the workforce. When I see those numbers of the amount of women that had to leave work to be able to take care of their children because schools were closed and because we didn’t know what this virus was going to do, that’s heartbreaking. Being able to be a working mother from home and take my kids to school and take them to dance class and write my book and produce movies is something I don’t take for granted at all. I want a shine a light on all the women who are doing it. Homeschool and working and cooking dinner and cleaning the house and just all of it. You’re never good enough. So for the women who out there trying their absolute best, I just want you to know you’re good enough and you’ve kicked ass and your kids are going to be great and they saw how much you cared and how hard you worked and that’s important.”

#hilarie burton #jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead #news #2021

[dayseternal-blog]

A NaruHina Hanahaki AU

Summary: She knit a red scarf for him.  She never gave it to him.  Days turned into months, months turned into too late.

Naruto starts dating. Hinata decides to move on.

A sickness takes root in the heart.

Inspired by SasuSaku fanfic “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake

Rating: Mature

Read Chapter 1 - Introduction: Smoke on her tongue.

Read Chapter 2 - He’s not a ghost.

Chapter 3: Weeds

Memories from that day replay over and over.  

Each time fills her with remorse.

She could have responded to Naruto in so many different ways.  “What are you doing?” “What’s wrong?” “Maybe another time.”  Or just, “We’re sorry for bothering you.”  

She didn’t have to get so upset.

Yet she can still justify herself.  She knows why she was so upset.  It just felt so unfair.

She was perfectly friendly to Rumi.  She could have been hostile.  She could have snubbed Rumi.

But why did Naruto do that?

She refuses to believe Susumu.  That would tear her apart.

Really, why did Naruto do that?

It’s not fair.

But he still didn’t deserve that from her.  Even though she doesn’t want to be just a friend, Naruto has always been a good friend to her.  He has always listened to her, always taken the time to encourage her, always been her inspiration.

Unable to take the guilt, she readies herself to talk to him.  She’ll apologize.  She’ll be a good friend.  She can be a great friend to him.

She knows she can get used to it.

She has to get used to it.

She needs to be okay with him.

It’s easy to find him.  He’s right at the bottom of his apartment, and based off of his gait, he doesn’t seem to be in a real rush.

She makes her way to him, eventually jumping down before him.  

He stops and stares at her.

It’s gut-wrenching to see him looking at her so warily.

She takes a few shallow breaths to gather herself together.  “...Naruto-kun,” she starts.  “Do you have a moment?”

He blinks.  Then nods slightly.

She steps a little closer, and she’s glad that he doesn’t angle away from her.

His expression is guarded, but his body language shows that he’s still open to hear what she has to say.

“...For the other night, I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.  You’re a good friend to me, and I know you must have had a reason.  Please accept my apology.”  She bows, hoping that he sees how sincere she is.

“Hinata,” he calls, and she doesn’t miss how there’s a force behind it, as if he’s remorseful, too.

She raises her head, hoping for an explanation, any explanation at all that would erase Susumu’s words.

But he’s not looking at her.  He’s looking somewhere over her, his gaze conflicted, his expression troubled.

“Naruto-kun?”

His gaze slowly settles back down on her.  “...Do you...really..like that guy?”

“Susumu-kun?” she clarifies, noting that Naruto really, for some reason, doesn’t like her boyfriend.

“Yeah.  Susumu,” he responds shortly.

The question and the answer she knows she has to say hurt so much more in front of him.  She’s never felt more acutely than now that...she’s lying.  But this, too, is a step in moving on, right?  “I like him,” she says quietly.  “He’s nice to me.”

Naruto returns to staring at her, directly into her eyes.  He can see right through her, she knows.  “...He’s nice to you?”  His voice is almost as small as a whisper.

“Yes.”  She can tell that he doesn’t believe her.  Perhaps Naruto was just being protective.  “He is.  He’s almost too nice.”

He looks away, his eyes turn down to the ground.  “...You really like him?” he repeats, and suddenly, he’s staring at her again, piercingly steady.

She feels it.  The way he’s watching her, solely focused on her with azure eyes that can pick her apart, turn every piece of her over and leave no place untouched.  Search the very truth of her heart…

And then she realizes it.

He could always see her love for him.  He just...never responded to it.

She turns her gaze down, not knowing what to say.  He knew?  He knew and just… Why.  A question for everything.  Why won’t he let her try to move on?

“But you want to be with him,” he states, voice low.

She sees that she doesn’t even have to answer, and he already knows what she means in her silence.  If Naruto knows her love for him, if he has always known, if he knew he could never return her feelings, then why does he sound unhappy?

“...I need to try, Naruto-kun,” she manages to reply, her throat closing up.  Were introducing her to his girlfriends, was it all just a nice way for him to reject her?  

He stays silent for a long while, and she can see his feet shifting, feel his eyes trained on the top of her head.

And then he’s not there anymore.

She looks up.

He’s gone.

She lets tears fill her eyes then, and she quickly returns home.

*

Throughout the week, she reflects on their conversation, feeling for once, a bit of closure.

Naruto has said it before to her.  That he can see her emotions in her eyes.  How could that not include her love for him?

He never addressed her feelings, and that’s probably because he didn’t know how to reject her.  She thought maybe he forgot or didn’t notice.

Things make a lot more sense to her now.

Why he always treated her differently.  Why he was always nicer to her compared to everyone else.  Why he seemed to always take the time to talk to her, compliment her, encourage her.

He just didn’t want to hurt her.

He didn’t mean to give her hope.

And with that mentality, he probably was just overprotective concerning Susumu.

Naruto really is kind.

She’s glad she apologized.

She’s glad he never rejected her outright.  How much more would it hurt to hear those words of rejection?

And she’s definitely glad she never forced her feelings on him, never gave him that scarf.

She takes the gift out of her lowest drawer and smoothes her hand over the stitches.  Each one a prayer from her heart.  Each one a fervent wish that he might accept her feelings.

To put something so heavy with the weight of her love in his hands, around his neck, when he never wanted it...that would just be a burden.

She clenches her fingers into the soft, red yarns.

She cries, not caring as her tears fall wet on the threads.

She promises herself that this is the last time.

The very last time she’ll cry over him.

When she puts it away in her closet, wrapped and sealed carefully in tissue in a box of mothballs, she thinks maybe...maybe she can finally move on.

*

For their date, Susumu suggested a spar.

She thinks he must have a knack for good timing.  She’s felt a numbness throughout since she put her childhood love away, and the kick of adrenaline in a friendly match may be exactly what she needs to make her feel alive again.  Facing off against a mid- to long-range fighter would present a much needed change of pace and challenge to take her mind off of other things.

They face off at the fourth training ground, one of her favorites for its fairly small lake closely surrounded by trees, perfect for chakra control exercises.  It was his suggestion as a fire-style user, to keep possibilities of burn injuries and general destruction as low as possible.  She accepted, considering it fair enough since she doesn’t have any water affinity.

“What are the guidelines?” he asks, again letting her make the final calls.  She knows it’s to be chivalrous. It irks her just a little.

“We have to stay on the water or in the trees.  It’s an automatic loss if you fall in the water or on the ground.”

“No weapons?” he suggests.

“No weapons,” she agrees.

They separate to place themselves on opposite sides of the lake.  A single step on the water signals the start.

She doesn’t waste any time trying to close the distance between them.  She runs, letting her agility catch him off-guard.

As she expected, he immediately jumps up into an overhanging tree and releases a blast of fire her way, forcing her to stop and guard herself with her Shugohakke.

The onslaught of fire eventually dissipates, clearing, revealing him standing on the tree, seemingly waiting for her to make the next move, even though he has the tactical advantage.

“You’re going easy on me,” she accuses him, though she also knows that he’s just trying to get a feel for her.

“So are you,” he says, tapping below his temple.

She smiles at that.  “Byakugan.  Mizuhari.”  She pulses chakra out of her, upsetting the water.  She molds her chakra around the drops, forming them into projections as sharp as senbon.

He clears the initial onslaught with fire, the steam blinding him for a second.

She sends more his way, forcing him to jump back onto the water, and she doesn’t let up.  

In a show of daring, he stops his fleeing to face her, hands flying through signs.  A giant dragon of flames twists into being, eating through the water senbon, and she knows now that he’s taking her a little more seriously.

She’s forced to somersault back, costing her some dearly earned meters, and she dissipates the dragon in her Shugohakke once more.  Embers fall to the lake, sending up trails of smoke before her.  She doesn’t wait for it to clear, instead running ahead to gain back the distance.

But he back handsprings away, maintaining his advantage.  “That technique of yours is bothersome,” he calls to her.

Her defensive technique of her design, impenetrable to all jutsu.  “Did you expect me to be in the water by now?” she retorts.

He smiles as an answer, forming hand seals.  Demon-shaped heads of blue fire appear around him, the very energy of the jutsu ominous.  

She knows now that he’s on the offensive.  That only now they’re really getting started.

He sends the demons flying toward her.

She aerials around the heads of fire, yet they follow her closely, and she knows he’s purposely keeping her away from him.  She knows that if this continues, she doesn’t stand a chance.  She needs to get within taijutsu radius before she runs out of stamina.  She lets the fire come close before spinning into a Kaiten to quickly dissipate them.  With remnant fire still swirling around her, she re-concentrates her chakra to form around sharp water vortexes, and sends them spearing toward Susumu.

He skips back, quickly spitting out balls of fire to halt the path of the water senbon, and she takes advantage of the distraction.

As he’s right about to try to re-establish their distance, she manages to blast him with focused chakra from her palm.

The force throws him across the lake, but he extends his hand to the water, slowing himself until he can properly push off and back tuck to standing.

She smiles, proud that she got first hit, but she knows he’s not moving as quickly as he should be.  His response times are slower than expected for a jounin.  Plus, he has yet to use his earth techniques.  He’s still going easy on me.  She quickly chases after him as he skips backward, spewing fire at her.  But she’s done with fighting him from afar.

She warps chakra around her fists into her signature lions, using them to shield her through the barrage of fire, and finally manages to close the distance.  She swipes a fist toward him, the edges of her jutsu barely flowing over his skin, but it’s enough to siphon chakra from his arm.

A short groan escapes his throat.  He presses his undamaged hand to the water, and suddenly, she’s hurtling up into the air upon a column of mud.

Before she can lose her balance, she jumps off the column.

Yet just as quickly, mud and rocks solidly knock her midair, sending her chest-first toward the water.  

She manages to catch herself one-handed, flipping right side up into a crouch.  Pain blooms up her arm and side from the force of the blow that likely left her with bruises and scratches.  She refocuses on him, but almost catches his hand signs too late.

Another dragon rises, this one made of mud and forest debris.  He directs the monstrosity high above her, it’s mouth and eyes focused down at her.  Then it falls, the full weight of it bearing directly on top of her.  Its tail snakes around her.

She spins into the Kaiten, but this time, she realizes it’s too much for her.  She can feel her grip on the water breaking, the mass of the dragon too much for her to balance while performing one of her clan’s most difficult techniques.  Her feet dip into the water, and she knows it’s her loss.  She allows herself to sink below into the lake, and the dragon, whatever is left of it, falls apart.

Globs of mud pelt through the surface.  She swims back up, getting a good breath of air.

Susumu is already there offering her his hand.

Gratefully, she takes it and lets him pull her back to the surface.

Together they head to the shore and lean against a shady tree.

She notices that he’s just as out of breath as she is.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” he asks, looking her over.

“I’m fine.  What about you?”  She nods at his stomach, where her Hakke Kuushou hit him.

“It’ll be alright.”

After a minute of rest, she brings up what was bothering her for the whole match.  “You weren’t trying to seriously win until the very end.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You hardly touched me,” she mutters unhappily.  “...And you were letting me hit you.  I know you can move faster than that.”

His smile pulls down, a blush rises.

She furrows her brow at his strange expression.  “I don’t need that much chance.  Are you looking down on me?”

“Ah...no, no.”  He shakes his head and denies quietly, rather than vehemently.  It’s odd.

“What do you have to say for yourself then?” she asks in mock-seriousness and curiosity.  She doesn’t like how the match went, but in the end, she still lost, so she can’t really be mad at him for going easy on her at the start.

He raises a hand to his mouth, his fingers rubbing at the redness on one cheek.  His gaze averts as if thinking of a memory. “You were just really cool to watch.”

She blinks at him.

“I was a little distracted with watching you.”  He looks at her apologetically.  “It was unintentional.  Please forgive me.  In any future spars, I’ll try harder to focus.”

She can hear how sincere he is.  His compliment, for the first time, makes her blush in embarrassment.  Her eyes turn down.  “From watching me?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah.  Seeing you come out unharmed with flames falling around you, steam everywhere, was pretty..hot.”

Her jaw drops a little, and she gapes at him, embarrassment replaced by sudden discomposure.  “Susumu-kun!” she scolds.  She’s never been called “hot” in her life, and she doesn’t know how to feel about it.  The adjective feels almost intrusive, invasive, definitely not suitable for someone like her.  “Don’t say things like that!”  She hugs herself and frowns, tempering the heat at her neck.

He just grins widely at her.  A reaction she doesn’t like.

She covers her face, unable to handle seeing him looking at her, and sinks to the ground to kneeling.  “Don’t ever say that again,” she murmurs through her hands.

She can sense him drop to sitting beside her.  He sighs.  “I’m being serious, Hinata.  Fighting against the Byakugan is really something else...”  When she doesn’t respond, he continues, “If I hadn’t given you that Dosekiryuu at the end, I would’ve had to engage with you in hand-to-hand combat.  Even if I wasn’t running out of chakra, we both know how that would have turned out.”

She peeks at him from her hands with a question.  Is he implying that I would have won in taijutsu?

“I saw your late cousin’s Hakke Rokujuuyon Shou before.  There’s no evading it.”

She smiles slightly at the mention of Neji.  She can still vividly remember his graceful, deadly power.  She’s not sure if she’s caught up to him by now.  Neji will always be one of her role models.  “Well, you never know.  You still might have won.”

He shakes his head.

They sit there for longer, listening to the breeze blow through the leaves above them.  In each other’s quiet company, she can hear the birds chirping, the snap and whine of tree branches in the wind, the rustle of the undergrowth.

It’s so different from Naruto’s company...the easy conversation that could leap from random back-and-forth to Naruto’s endless, one-sided storytelling...and the easy laughter that surprised even herself...

She wants to move on.

Her heart still aches.  Terribly.

And she knows Susumu deserves better.  A good guy like him deserves someone better than her.

She turns her gaze toward him.

He’s staring at the grass, expression melancholy, and she can tell they both feel the change in the air between them.

“Susumu-kun?” she asks quietly.

He meets her gaze.  His shoulders and chest rise and fall in a long, silent breath.  “...What do you think, Hinata?  About us.”

She wants to move on.  But not like this.  Not by using Susumu when he’s serious about her and she’s not.  Not when she doesn’t feel any desire to touch him, to spend more time with him than her friends, to get to know him intimately.  She’s just not attracted to him in that way.

How can she tell him that?

She swallows her nerves.  She can’t be shy about this.  He deserves her best.  Even if it’s the end.  “I like you as a friend.”  Her voice is softer, heavier than she meant it.  Sadder than she ever thought she would sound.

His expression remains unchanged.  He nods slightly and averts his eyes.

She watches him, ready for any questions he might have.  She doesn’t want to explain anything she doesn’t have to.  She doesn’t want to rub her rejection in, not when he’s made his affection so clear to her.

He nods again, gaze on the ground.  He slowly rises to standing, and she gets up, too.  He faces her, and the despondency across his handsome features is hard to take in.

Hard to accept that she’s the cause of that.

Hard to realize that the end came so quickly.

“I enjoyed my time with you, Hinata.”

“I did, too.”  I’m sorry.  The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she holds it in.  “Susumu-kun…”  She looks up at him earnestly, hoping that he’ll be receptive to what she does want to say.  “Thank you for giving me a chance.”  I didn’t deserve you.  You deserve better.  I wish I fell for you.  I wish we could be happy together.  I hope you find someone perfect for you.  Thank you for being my first.

His mouth twitches into something close to a smile, but not quite, before settling down once more.  He takes her hands, rubbing his thumbs across her fingers, before letting her go.  “Take care, Hinata.”

“You, too, Susumu-kun,” she quietly replies, realizing that she’ll never feel his hands again.

He nods a bit, a shadow cast over his face.  “I’ll see you some other time.” He jumps into the trees and takes off back toward the village.

Her heart sits heavy in her chest.  Her eyes burn. Her extremities feel weak.  She doesn’t have the patience to sift through her feelings, so she lets them be.

Slowly she walks home.

*

She knows it was the right thing to do.

She knows, perhaps better than anyone, that being lead on, that thinking you have a chance, only to be disappointed, is more painful than anything.  It’s a good thing that she broke up with Susumu, and that he had the foresight to talk to her.

Because if not…

She probably would have just kept dating him.  Kept waiting for something to happen.  Kept convincing herself that she would fall in love with him eventually.

Maybe that’s what Naruto thought, too, at first.  That he might eventually feel something more for her, so he never rejected her.  And well, she never really gave him a chance to properly turn her down. She never confessed again.

She can’t blame him for that.

It’s not his fault that she held onto him for so long.

It’s amazing that he still treated her as a good friend.  Naruto really is so nice.

...Why can’t she stop thinking about him?  

Why does she still think about him so much?

*

She stares at herself in the mirror.

It’s been awhile since she felt this way.  Like she’s too dark.  Like her hair is too severe against her skin and eyes.

She’s always liked her hair color because she inherited it from her mother.

What if she grew out her bangs and gave herself a sharper image, like Hanabi’s?

She center-parts her bangs, then flips a section of hair over her head to give an impression of elongated bangs framing her face.  She frowns.  It still feels wrong for her to flaunt her forehead.  Even if sealing was banned three years ago.

What if she got a haircut?  Would that lighten her appearance?

She bends her hair up behind her head to get an idea, and turns her head this way and that.  It’s hard to tell.  She might just end up looking like her genin days, like a child.

But maybe it would make her look cuter, more cheerful, like Rumi.

She lets her hair fall straight and blinks at herself in disbelief.

What is she thinking?

Getting a haircut is like a classic sign of heartbreak.  Everyone would ask her if something happened.

No one knows yet that she and Susumu broke up.  Most everyone seems to know she’s trying to move on from Naruto.

She should talk to someone about everything that’s happened in the last week before she does something unexpected, like drastically change her hairstyle.

Before she can mortify herself any further, she forces herself to head to the hospital, to the one friend who understands her feelings better than anyone else.

*

Sakura told her she would be off-duty, but she looks anything but.

Deep in the archives with an assistant, scrolls and books sorted into piles for later perusal.  Sakura is obviously still in work-mode, green eyes scanning shelves and shelves for titles of interest.

“Is this a bad time?” Hinata calls out.

The medic-nin looks over.  “Ahhh, is it that late already?”  She bites her lip as she eyes their mess, seemingly reluctant to leave her current occupation.

“We can do this another time,” she suggests.

“No,” Sakura answers quickly, curtly.  “I didn’t forget about you, Hinata.  I’ve been looking forward to this all day.  I just lost track of the time.  This can wait.”  She dusts her hands off and turns to her assistant.  “Then, Tomoko-chan, I’ll be leaving now.  You should head home, too, since it’s getting late.  We can keep looking tomorrow.”

The assistant shakes her head.  “I want to do a little more research before I go home.  Good work today, Sakura-san.”

“You, too, Tomoko-chan.  I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow!”

Sakura steps carefully around a pile of scrolls and joins her.

“Is it really okay?” Hinata asks.  “It looks like you’re working on something difficult.”

She huffs a sigh.  “I just need to find medical records on something.  It’s not difficult, just annoying.  We’ll find it eventually.”

Hinata nods, acquiescing to Sakura’s decisive attitude.  The two head over to a small izakaya, one of Sakura’s go-to places that she frequents with Tsunade on late nights.  It’s not a usual place for Hinata to patron, but she likes that it’s quieter than other bars and keeps to a more traditional atmosphere.

After typical small talk and orders are taken, Sakura restarts the conversation with the expected question.  “How is Susumu-san doing?”

Hinata pauses, gathering her feelings, her thoughts together, before deciding to go straight to the point.  “...We...broke up about a week ago.”

“Oh.”  Sakura stares at her, then her gaze shifts about, obviously trying to think of an appropriate response.  “...How do you feel?” she asks carefully.

It’s been several days since their spar.  Several days since she’s been newly single.  Several days, enough days, for her to start second-guessing her decision.  And she hates herself for it.  “It’s funny…” she starts quietly.  “I was the one who ended things, but I still feel sad.”  In the aftermath of their breakup, she’s been left with new feelings to confront.  On top of trying to move on, it all just feels even more overwhelming--an outcome she hadn’t been expecting.

She looks up from her contemplation to see Sakura attentively watching her.  

She continues, “I wasn’t in love with him, and...he told me he didn’t want us to keep going if I wasn’t serious.”

“Mhm...you weren’t feeling anything for him?”

She shakes her head.  “But I wanted to...Susumu-kun was very nice.  He was a really good person.  I don’t know...if I made the right choice.  I’m starting to wonder if I should have tried to give it more time.”

Sakura leans her elbow on the table, cheek resting in her hand.  “...Can I ask..?” she starts somewhat hesitantly.  “Is it...because of Naruto?”

The familiar, painful twist in her stomach, the wilting sensation throughout whenever his name runs to the forefront of her consciousness.  “It’s so hard, Sakura-chan.  I’m trying so hard to get over him,” she whispers.

The air grows still between them, filled with her confession.

Sakura’s eyes cast low, gaze unseeing on the floorboards.  “I can’t imagine, Hinata.  If...if Sasuke-kun were…” She frowns and sighs.  “I don’t know what he’s doing or who he spends his time with, but I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I saw him with…”

Hinata thought she was done crying.  She promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, but…  She swallows back the tears and forces the sting to retreat from her eyes.

“You’re being so strong, Hinata,” she murmurs.

“I..I don’t think so.  It’s...it’s lonely…”

Sakura frowns deeper.  She tsks, a sudden fire flashing across her eyes.  “He’s such an idiot.  He’s really, really such an idiot.”

Hinata shakes her head in disagreement.  “We both know that he isn’t.”

She just grimaces.  “Hinata, I really don’t think he even likes Rumi,” she says, voice only just above a whisper.

“Sakura-chan,” she warns.  The last thing she wants right now is pointless hope.

“I’m sorry...but I feel like I don’t have anyone to tell this to.  I worry about him, and I worry about his girlfriend.  Rumi-chan’s a nice girl, but she’s only 19, and she doesn’t know him like we do.”

“Over three months,” she murmurs.  “They’ve been dating for a long time.”

Sakura makes a sound similar to a snort.  “He doesn’t know what love means.”

“...I’m sure...Rumi-san is teaching him-”  She feels like the air is sucked out of her.

Sakura stares at her, the green of her eyes just as sharp and analytical as usual, despite the fact that she’s already nearly finished her cup of sake.  “I know you’re not much of a drinker, but Hinata, you’re drinking tonight.  It’s on me.”  Sakura calls over a waiter, ordering another bottle of umeshu.

She doesn’t argue with Sakura’s choice of comfort.  Maybe it is what she needs.  Maybe she just wants a moment for everything to tone down, her feelings to turn a muter shade, her memories and thoughts to blur and quiet for a second.

The sweet and sour plum alcohol races through her.  The very smell of it makes her cheeks flush.  One small cup, and she feels like a veil is settling over her mind.  The thrum of her heart picks up, sending a glowing energy to everything she sees.  “Thank you,” Hinata murmurs, and she feels like maybe she can smile now.

Sakura shakes her head, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear.  She takes another sip of her drink.  “About Susumu-san, I can’t tell you if you made the right decision or not.”  She looks at Hinata apologetically.  “If you really want to know what I think...maybe dating was just too soon.  Just...thinking about myself...I just don’t think I’d be able to date anyone seriously if they weren’t Sasuke-kun.  He motivated me, he changed me, he’s a part of who I am today, and I wouldn’t be able to let go of him easily even if I tried.”

Hinata takes a long sip of her drink, hoping the burn of the alcohol carries away her feelings--feelings that are painfully too close to Sakura’s words.  She puts her cup down, and takes a deep breath as the warmth spreads to her extremities.  “Maybe...maybe it was too soon… but I just don’t want to feel like this anymore…  It’s awful of me, I know it is, but when I was with Susumu-kun, I felt a little better...at least better than I do now.  I didn’t feel as lonely when I was with him.  He distracted me...from thinking about Naruto-kun.”  She doesn’t like how her insides still tighten at his name.  She doesn’t like how it makes her feel like she might never get over him.  “Susumu-kun made me feel like I have a chance with love.”

Sakura nods, expression sympathetic.  Her mouth straightens in a tight line.

Saying all of her thoughts aloud now, all of the thoughts that spiraled through her mind until they didn’t make sense, suddenly lead to a certain clarity.  “What if Susumu-kun was the one for me?”

The pinkette blinks and bites her lip.  “...But you said you weren’t attracted to him.”

She stares hard at her cup, picturing Susumu’s features.  “But I want to be, and if I want to be, then isn’t it possible that I would eventually?”

Sakura tilts her head, frowning, in thought.  She sighs.  “I guess I wouldn’t know...but, Hinata.”  She waits until they make eye contact to continue.  “Do you really want to love him?”

The question takes her aback, and it reminds her of Naruto’s probing questions a week ago.  She doesn’t know.  The alcohol certainly doesn’t help, but even if she wasn’t buzzed, she doesn’t think she would be able to differentiate among everything she wants.  Her reasoning, her fear, is all that she has.  “I might never meet anyone as nice as Susumu-kun ever again.”

Sakura shakes her head hard.  “That’s not true, Hinata, there are lots of good guys.”

Maybe there are.  But she’s not sociable like Ino, not clever like Sakura.  She doesn’t meet as many people as them, and she generally avoids situations that would force her to talk to strangers.  Just the effort to open herself up to Susumu was a lot for her.  “I just don’t think anyone would be as patient as him with me...he told me he would wait for me.”

Sakura gulps down a whole cup of umeshu.  She places it down and stares at Hinata.  “But you broke up with him already.”

It’s vain of her to think Susumu would still want her back.  But if she apologized, if she explained her feelings about him, that she appreciates so many things about him…

“What if Naruto and Rumi-chan break up.  What would you do?”

She feels an unpleasant pressure on her temples, a displeasing stress up the nerves of her legs, flaring into hot frustration.  “Why would you ask me that?” she asks, tone low to mask the snapping hurt in her. You know that Naruto-kun doesn’t like me that way.”  Unthinkingly, she pours herself another cup.  “I-I’m not his type, I’m not cute, or, or sexy, or especially bright.”  She takes a gulp of her umeshu, letting its fire burn away her dejection.  Forget.  She just wants to forget this, if just for tonight.

Sakura looks honestly regretful, and Hinata realizes that the alcohol is making both of them more loose with their thoughts.  “You know, Hinata,” she says almost quietly, the softer enunciation catching her curiosity.  “You know...I really thought he liked you.”

Hinata immediately shakes her head, remembering for a second everything he ever did or said that gave her hope.  She drinks a little more to erase those memories, if just for now.

“If that’s his type..cute, sexy, bright… I think that you are!  More than Rumi-chan, anyway.”

She looks up and gives Sakura a hard, disbelieving look.  “Please,” she mutters, shaking her head again.  “I...thought he seemed nicer to me, but...h-he just didn’t want to hurt me.”  Her heart shutters at the memory of their last meeting.  “I think he knew that I..that I loved him...but he didn’t know how to turn me down.  Or maybe he was trying to see if he could like me back.”

Sakura’s brow furrows.  “Oh…I guess...I don’t know, maybe I’ve never been that good at understanding him…”  She groans.  “But I just thought Naruto...I don’t know.  It’s been so long since we’ve properly hung out, and I’ve been so busy...I just-I really thought he…”

“I thought so, too..before..”  Hinata closes her eyes and finishes her second cup.  Burning, burning, burning away…  “...If you found out that Sasuke-san was seeing someone else, what would you do?”

Sakura gives a sudden, loud, humorless laugh.  “I wouldn’t be able to handle it,” she replies.  “I’d fight to have him back.  I know I’m aggressive, and...I wouldn’t be able to give up.”  Sakura places her hand to her forehead, then pushes her hair back.  “Oh damn...maybe I’d even fight Sasuke-kun.”  She takes a drink from her third cup.  “I don’t want to think about it…”

Hinata has always known that Sakura was very different from her.  From personalities to fighting styles, they’ve always been on opposite ends.  And now, with only alcoholic warmth keeping the tides of loneliness, jealousy, and admiration at bay, these differences fascinate her.

“He left me with a promise...I never even told Naruto this...but you know, Sasuke-kun and I...we can understand each other...just by looking at each other.  When we look at each other…”  Sakura locks eye contact with Hinata and gestures with her fingers between them.  “I feel like I understand him.  And he understands me.  He doesn’t have to say anything...he doesn’t have to touch me, and I just...I’ve just felt like, I know.  I know what he wants to say.  Or what he’s thinking.”  She takes another drink, finishing her cup.  She groans.  The alcohol seems to finally be really getting to her.  “I miss him so much.”

Hinata buries her face in her hands.  Sakura’s talking about herself, but it sounds so much like what she used to feel.  She used to feel exactly like that with Naruto.  She used to think they understood each other.  She used to think they had something special.  “How do you know you’re not just feeling that way one-sidedly?” she murmurs.

“Agh.  I guess I could never know for sure unless I asked him directly.”

She can feel her head swimming, her mind wandering, slowing as the alcohol overtakes her system.  “Sakura-chan...should I cut my hair?”

“What?!”

She fingers her hair thoughtfully, but very little thought is actually processing at this point.  She lifts up the strands.  “Short?  Do you think I’d look brighter that way?  Would it match me?”

“Why, Hinata?”

She shrugs.  “I guess I won’t.”

“...You can if you want to.”

Maybe it would make her feel less heavy.  Maybe it would be a physical way to take some weight off of her.

“You know what you should do?”

She glances back at Sakura and drops her hair.

“You should tell Naruto what you think.”

“Wha--.  No.” The temptation to take another cup of alcohol is there, and she holds the bottle, half-considering what another cup would do to her.

“You should tell him that he’d be better off with you.  Tell him that he should break up with Rumi-chan and-”

“No, Sakura-chan, no, I would never do that.”  She waves her hand to emphasize her words.

“Why not?  Fight for your man,” she states.  It’s obvious that Sakura would do that for Sasuke.

Hinata would fight...if Naruto was about to get killed by a terrorist group, but that’s far from what this is.  “...That’s just not me.  And Naruto-kun is not...not mine...” she reasons. Despite how tipsy she is right now, she’s glad she’s still holding onto some sense of self.

Sakura just laughs.  “There was a time...I thought Naruto acted like he was.”

“Acted like how?” she asks, not quite following.

“Acted like your man.”  Sakura turns and asks the waiter for another bottle.

Hinata shakes her head again in denial, scattering away memories of that time on Susumu’s birthday.  “I told you, he was just overprotective because he knew that I liked him.”  She decides to go for that third cup.  If she stops after this, she’ll still be okay in the morning.

“Ugh.  That’s so stupid.”

Hinata waits for Sakura to elaborate, but she doesn’t clarify if what’s stupid is her interpretation of Naruto’s actions, or Naruto’s actions themselves.  “What’s stupid?”

“Naruto is always stupid.”

Hinata smiles, even though she disagrees.  “I’m the one who’s stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” she scoffs.  She pours herself a fourth cup and finishes it almost that quickly.

Hinata mirrors her, taking another sip of her drink.  “I am.  I misunderstood him.  I shouldn’t have chased after him for so long.”

Sakura tsks.  “You never chased after him.”

“I know I didn���t chase him, but...you know how they say love is blind?  I guess I wouldn’t say I was blind...but maybe more like tunnel vision…”  All she ever saw was Naruto.  She wonders vaguely if she’s grown too accustomed to that.  How long will it take her to unlearn?

“No.  No, no, no, you know that’s not true!  That’s..no.  What are you saying, Hinata?  Love isn’t blind!  Love is..love is all-seeing!  Love isn’t tunnel vision, either!  It’s...like Sasuke-kun’s hawk.”

She agrees.  

She never felt blind.  

Not once with Naruto.  

Everything felt vivid--every moment, every word, every touch, every shared glance.

“Being in love is like a hawk’s eye.  I can pick him out in a crowd.  I can see everything about him in great focus.  Every little detail is clear to me.”  Sakura pours herself a fifth cup.  “Right?”

Her eyes are wet.  Her cheeks are wet.  Her hand is wet.

“Hinata!”  Sakura panics, grabbing at napkins for her.  “Don’t cry, oh my gosh, don’t cry.  It’s okay,” she murmurs.

“See, I’m so stupid.”  She wipes tears from her cheeks.  “I didn’t want to cry again, and then.”  Her eyes are leaking like a broken faucet.  Maybe tonight will be the last time.

“Hinata…”  Sakura places a hand, across the table, on Hinata’s arm, rubbing her soothingly.

“Sakura-chan, what if...what if I never fall in love again?  What if I never love anyone like I loved Naruto-kun?”  Fear, a fear she never wanted to actually name, clenches her heart, and everything burns.  Unbidden, tears form and fall.  What if she never moves on?  What if she never finds anything to compare, anything to come close to the feelings she’s held for him for so long.

Sakura doesn’t answer, and Hinata can’t see her through the fog in her eyes.  She rubs her thumb into Hinata’s arm, the sensation calming her runaway emotions.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”  She shutters through her apology and works to get herself back under control.

Sakura hums a disagreement.  “It’s okay to cry, Hinata…”

She shakes her head, wiping her face clean.  “I can’t keep crying.  I’ve cried so much.  I’m so tired of crying.”

Sakura gives a soft sigh.  “Let’s get out of here, okay?  It’s the alcohol.  Walking will make you feel better.”  She handles the tab and helps her up to standing.

The two make their way out of the izakaya.

She feels oddly numb now, the previous depression distant.  “Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Sakura-chan.”

“Of course, anytime, Hinata.  I’ll walk you home.”

They walk arm-in-arm.  It’s strangely touchier than she’s used to, but definitely comforting.  Appreciation fills her.  She’d never be able to tell anyone else her fears.  Anyone else would judge her, she’s sure that anyone else just wouldn’t get it.  She’s thankful for Sakura’s camaraderie.  She’s thankful that Sakura reached out to her first after the war because ever since, they’ve grown closer.  Tonight was just one among many other nights they’ve comforted or encouraged each other.

“-sn’t that her?...  Hah, I knew it, I told you, she’s a lesbian.”  A voice somewhere behind them, obnoxiously loud, cuts into her thoughts.  

It’s interesting to think the voice is talking about her.  She’s never been called gay before.  She never really considered it.  She looks around, and she notices that Sakura does, too.

Her eyes catch on Susumu, and then a friend beside him, who’s leering at herself and Sakura.

The alcohol in her system makes it so easy for her to just do nothing in reaction.  She stays put, staring at her ex, letting her thoughts slowly process that Susumu’s friend thinks she’s gay.  Gay because...

He stares right back at her.  He turns to his friend, then turns back to her.  His mouth opens, and words tumble out, louder than his usual.  “I’m sorry, he’s drunk and he gets annoying when he’s drunk and says things he doesn’t mean, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, I mean, I mean it’s completely fine if you’re a lesbian, I won’t take it personally, that’s cool, too, I mean, damn it I’m drunk...”

She’s aware enough to have figured that out in the first sentence.  Susumu never usually talks that much in one breath, never usually swears, either.  She laughs a little despite herself.

He gives her a small smile, but it’s weighted, from alcohol or from something else, she’s not sure.

Sakura loosens her hold on her arm, and she belatedly realizes that Sakura had latched on tighter when they saw them.

“What’s wrong with my main man?  This guy’s a catch, don’t you know?” the friend shouts at her face.

She blinks in response.

Sakura’s grip tightens once more.  She shifts forward, her intent buzzing in the air, a warning.

It makes her adrenaline pick up.  She squeezes Sakura’s wrist to hopefully calm her down.  She had been feeling so pleasant just a second ago.

But the friend doesn’t take the hint.  “How could you resist this face?”  He gestures at Susumu’s head.

“Stop,” Susumu shakes him off in annoyance, tilting over slightly too far, perhaps embarrassed, definitely drunk.

The friend points at their tightly linked arms.  “See, Susumu, pretty girls are always lesbians!”

“Shut up already.”

Sakura stays alert at her side, and maybe it’s because of her, she feels safe enough to just observe his friend rant like a clown.  His argument nudges at her brain, sends a barely-there message that Susumu told his friend about their break-up.  That his friend is doing a poor attempt at comforting him, and that she’s the reason he needs comfort.

She notices Susumu’s eyes steady on hers, and she wonders at his gaze.

The friend holds up his fingers mid-rant.  “-She must be one ‘cause she never kissed you, she barely hugged you, she hardly touched you,-”

His eyes abruptly shift to his friend, face suddenly livid.  “What the hell man shut up!”

She startles at his outburst, having never heard him yell before, especially not with so many profanities, and Sakura steps back, grip tight.

“Let’s go,” Sakura states, pulling at her arm, turning them around.

But she can’t move.

Ah, I really hurt him.

She never reached out to him.  She never really tried.

She never wanted him close, always tried to avoid any affection beyond hand-holding, kept herself safe behind her propriety and accustomed timidity, ignored the barrier she put up every time, pretended she didn’t have a set of standards never meant for him to match, at the back of her mind, she always compared him to-

She never tried.

Never tried to try.

Never actually tried to move on.

She steps toward him, pulling her arm free from Sakura.

“Hinata-” she starts, but Hinata continues forward until he turns at her approach.

His eyes widen at seeing her.  “I’m sor-”

She grasps his shoulders, pulling him down as she tiptoes.  She raises her chin, squeezes her eyes shut and-

It’s over in less than a second.

She opens her eyes to hear him releasing a breath, heavy, as if he had been holding it.  His own eyes are wide, like he just woke up from a thunderclap.

She settles back on her heels, about to let him go when his hands grip her waist.

“Wait,” he breathes.

She pauses.

He leans down, and she immediately registers the difference.  His lips move against hers softly, as if to drink her in, almost encouraging.  

She remembers he has experience, and then faintly considers, This is a real kiss.

“Hinata!” Sakura gasps, just as his friend hollers an “Ooooohh yeaahhhh!!” that jars her back to where they are.

In public.

In front of their friends.

She breaks away from him, blinking, attention on the ground, trying to gather herself together again.

She suddenly feels sober.

He holds her hands.  “Hinata.”

She blinks hard at the sidewalk.  Her brain hovers between comprehending her first kiss and checking herself, realizing that, no, she is very drunk.

“Hinata,” he repeats, louder over his friend’s cheering and babbling.

She continues to stare at the sidewalk, but then she realizes she can’t do that forever.  She looks up at him tentatively.

The gentleness in his expression is completely at odds to his earlier tone, a centering, an anchor, for the tumbling inside her.  “...Do you want to try again with me?”

She can hear so much hope in his voice.

Hope.

She wants to hope, too.

She nods.

He squeezes her hands, a smile unfurling across his face.  

She watches him, mirroring his smile, knowing that, somehow, she’s now the cause of his unchecked happiness, too.

“Great, great, that’s really great,” he murmurs.

She sees how his smile stays, and thinks maybe it really is just a matter of time.  Given another ten years, she can learn to love someone else.  Maybe Susumu.  She just has to try.  She just has to reach out more.

Just has to act it until she feels it.  

Her heart may lag behind her actions, but eventually it would catch up, right?

He brings his hands up to his temples, pushes his hair back, looking up to smile over her head at his whooping friend.

Hinata steps away, toward Sakura.

Sakura’s watching her, jaw slightly dropped, eyes wide, brows furrowed.

She tilts her head, determining that Sakura looks disapproving.

Susumu’s hand grabs hers before she can walk any further away, turning her around.  He glides his hand up through her nape, threads his fingers down the length of her hair, an action that feels far more affectionate, way more intimate than anything he’d ever done to her before.

It’s nice and fuzzy feeling.  Like maybe that’s how Akamaru feels when petted.

“Damn beautiful.”  A murmur, a tone quieter, lower, thicker than usual.

She realizes he actually thinks she’s beautiful.  He really believes that about her.

“First thing tomorrow, I’ll call on you, okay?”  His voice is almost a whisper.

She opens her eyes, realizing that she closed them, and nods.

He lets out a heavy sigh, then something like a frustrated groan, his hand tightening around hers.  Then a chuckle.  “I’m so drunk.  I’m sorry.  I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She nods again.

He releases her and steps toward his friend, who swings an arm around him.  He laughs in response, and she notes it’s very boyish.

Cute.

It seems like she still hasn’t lost her habit of adding up his good points.

She watches them walk away before turning and making her way to Sakura.  She tilts her head again in a question.

Sakura frowns, hesitating, gaze averting away to the ground, before finally asking, “Hinata, are you sure?”

“No.”  The answer comes out so immediate, so definite and simple, that it startles her.  Tears spring to her eyes faster than she can manage.

Vodka on his breath, in front of the darkened windows of a realty business, in front of Sakura, in front of that noisy stranger, under the yellow streetlights on a cloudy night.  Two faces closer than acceptable and hers had no heat behind it.  

Only passive observation.  

Only a shapeless, complacent sense of accomplishment that she did what she told herself to do.

She feels like she can’t breathe, like she was backstabbed, only it was self-inflicted, and she curls inward, hating the shriveled lump of weeds her core has become.  “I-I just want to feel better, Sakura-chan, I just want to stop feeling like this.”  She rubs hot tears from her eyes, and Sakura hugs her, murmuring words of comfort in her ear.

****

He came back at lunch, Sakura’s only availability for the day, and firmly sets the scroll down on her desk.  He looks at her as seriously as he can so that she knows how serious he is.  “Okay, something’s wrong with me, Sakura-chan.  I’m really sick.”

Sakura’s eyes flicker from the scroll to his face.  “You’ve never been sick a day in your life.  I’ve seen your records.”

“I know.”  He unrolls the scroll and unlocks it.  

Those things poof onto the paper.

They stare at them.

After a few, long, silent seconds, Sakura shifts her gaze back to Naruto.  “Why do you have flower petals?” she asks, annoyance edging at her voice.

“Is that what they are?!” he asks incredulously because he knows that’s what they look like, but he also knows he’s never had flowers in his diet.  “I don’t know if someone’s playing a practical joke on me because if someone is, I’d like to know their tricks.  This is fucked up, I’ve been barfing those things out for the past, I don’t know, a week I guess, and it’s getting worse!”

“Okay, slow down, you’ve been vomiting out...this...”  She gestures at the things.

“Yeah.”  He nods his head with a large frown.  “Kurama says he doesn’t know what’s going on either.”  

He asked him before coming.  Kurama simply told him his hosts always had excellent health, so he wouldn’t know.

Sakura takes a deep breath.  She reseals the scroll.  “I’ll have this examined.”  Grabbing her clipboard and a record sheet, she turns to him again and clears her throat.  “I need to know more.  Do you have any idea of what might be causing this?”

“No,” he says, panic slipping through his tone.  It’s apparent that Sakura doesn’t know what’s going on with him, either, and he doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s frightening.

“Are there certain times of the day when this happens?  After you eat or...when you wake up in the morning?...”

He pauses to think.  “Well...the first time...I was at home.  At night.  After dinner.”  He remembers Rumi was over.  “And then the second time was last night.  We were eating dinner at that popular sushi restaurant.  I had to vomit in the restaurant’s bathroom.  Then right after that...when I got home…”  He grimaces at the memory.  “Then later on last night, too. I barfed three times last night.”

Sakura nods, writing everything down.  “What did you eat before that first time?”

“Uhhhh...I think it was yakiniku.”

“...Okay.  You went out with Rumi?”

“Yeah.”

“And is she getting sick?”

“No, she’s fine.”

“How do you feel right now?”

“I feel...fine, I guess.”

“No fever, stomach aches, cold shivers?”

“It happens really suddenly, like there’s hardly any warning.”  He looks to his former teammate, hoping for any sign of realization in her expression.

She looks stern, like she’s thinking.  “So you can just be having a normal conversation, and then you’ll suddenly feel like vomiting?...  Were there any smells or possible triggers that you can remember?  Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not that I can think of…”

“Okay.  Is there anything else you can tell me?”

He reflects on his experiences last night.  There is one thing.  “It’s like...whatever those things are...are coming from my chest.  Not so much my stomach, like...I have a few seconds where I feel like I can’t breathe.  Especially the third time last night.  My chest really hurt.”

“Was it a sharp pain?  An aching pain?”

He hums in thought.  “I guess an aching pain.”

“I’m going to examine you.”  She stands up and walks around to him.

He unzips his coat to facilitate her examination.

Her hands glow green, and she hovers them above his mesh-clothed chest.  Her eyes have that focused-absent look, like she’s seeing something that he can’t.  “Your chakra...is congested in your chest.”  Her hands move closer to him.  Her head tilts in thought.  She moves her hands to hover over his stomach.  “...You seem perfectly fine here.”  Her hands move back up.

He stays perfectly still for her, waiting for her to explain more.

But she doesn’t.  She backs away and returns to her clipboard, noting down her unshared thoughts.

“What should I do?” he finally asks.

“You have a chakra illness, that much is clear.  I’m pulling you off missions until we can get this sorted out.”

“What?!”  He slams his hands on her desk in shock.  He needs missions.  He needs to keep proving himself to the village.  He needs to keep working to be the Hokage.  He can’t be sitting around twiddling his thumbs.

Sakura glares at him.  “We don’t know how severe this could be.  Your chakra seems to be twisting all around your respiratory tract.  Whether protectively or dangerously is the question.  Any exertion could potentially exacerbate the situation, and I don’t want you keeling over in the middle of a fight because you can’t breathe.”

“I’ve been fine!  I’ve been training all week, it’s just that other night and last night I felt sick, but I felt completely better right after!”

“No, Naruto.  We need to monitor you.  Be thankful I’m not ordering you to hospital bedrest.”  She looks at him pointedly, challenging him to go against her any further.

He huffs and sits down with a defeated plop.  “Is there anything I can do or take to get better?”

Sakura studies her notes thoughtfully.  “Monitor yourself.  Note down everything that you consume and do.  Do not train.  If your condition worsens, check in at the hospital immediately.”

He squints, frowns, opens his mouth to argue about not training, then shuts it.  “...What do you mean by...everything.  Like going to the bathroom, walking around my place?”

She rolls her eyes.  “The places you go to, the people you talk to!  Oh!  And no sex.  Do not engage in any sexual intercourse or anything that leads to orgasm until we figure out what we’re dealing with.”

He stiffens, awkwardness making him sputter.  “I don’t do anything like that.”

“Naruto,” Sakura starts, looking him dead in the eyes.  “There’s no need to act so immature.  I’m a medic.  As you should be aware, orgasm disrupts chakra control.  You don’t want to choke and die while doing it with your girlfriend.  That would be a humiliating way to go.”

“Rumi doesn’t-”

“With that said, what you can do is meditate.  Regulate your chakra as much and as often as possible.  Keep away from activities or people that agitate you, and just try to stay as calm as you can.”

He supposes meditation beats doing nothing, but she’s basically telling him to do nothing.  But he keeps himself from arguing that point.  The last thing he wants is being contained to the hospital.

*

That night, he relays everything Sakura told him to Rumi, minus the sex part.  That would just be too uncomfortable to discuss.

“It’s serious then,” she says worriedly.  “She even took you off of missions.”

“Yeah, but Sakura doesn’t even know what it is.  It might not be that bad.”

Rumi looks him over.  “You do seem okay.  But I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yeah.  I feel fine, though.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah.  But this sucks.  I can’t do anything.”

Rumi nods.

It gets quiet between them.

Usually when she comes over, they just fool around with each other.  He can’t do that anymore.  He realized it really would be humiliating if he died on her in any state of undress, and the past couple of times seemed to prove Sakura’s point.  Whenever they got close to being intimate, he vomited.  While he was doing it by himself, too…

It’s still quiet.  He doesn’t really like quiet.  What does he usually talk about?

“Naruto-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really feeling okay?”

“Yeah!  I feel fine!”

“That’s good.  Hopefully this illness will just pass.”

“Yeah.”

He feels awkward silence take over again.  He should ask her about her recent missions or something.

“Do you have any idea of what could be causing you to get sick?”

“No…”

Now he really doesn’t know what to say.  Whenever he asks her about her missions, her responses are usually the same anyway.  “It was fine.”  Or “nothing really happened.”  She’s not much of a storyteller.  She’s a wind-user, too, so there isn’t much that she knows that he’s not already familiar with.

“Naruto-kun…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re really feeling okay?”

“Mhm.  Yeah.”

She studies his face.  “Are you tired?”

He frowns.  He feels antsy actually.  “I’m not tired.  I did nothing all day.  Just ate at Ichiraku for dinner.”

“You always eat there!” she laughs.

“Well, Sakura told me to stay as calm as possible, and Ichiraku’s the most peaceful place on earth!”

She shakes her head.  “You’re obsessed with their ramen.  You’re going to get fat one day.”

“Rumi, I would gladly get fat for Ichiraku.”

She scrunches a face at him.  “Even after all of the different places we’ve eaten at, you still think Ichiraku is the best?”

“Of course!” he says seriously.  “You can show me any restaurant on earth, but none would ever compare.”

She sighs dramatically.  “I’ll never understand.”

What’s not to understand?  “They have the best consistency of noodles, the best broth, the best chashu.”

“Hmm I guess I’d have to compare with other ramen places.”

“The difference is obvious!”

“I like udon more, though.  Ichiraku doesn’t sell udon.”

“Udon?” he says in disbelief.  “Ramen is so much better!  In the end, it’s all about the broth!  That’s what you’re left with anyway once you’ve eaten all the noodles!”

“Yeaahhh, but, I just like chewier noodles.”

He openly stares at her.  He cannot believe this.

“And ramen doesn’t usually come with tempura.  Udon tastes good with tempura.”

Deep fried shrimp.  Expensive.  And he thought Ichiraku ramen was a splurge.  Also… “And you’re calling me fat?”

She laughs off his argument.  

“Ramen tastes better!  There’s more depth of flavor!”

“Okay, okay,” she says, but he knows she’s just saying that.

“I’m serious!”

“Mhm.  That’s fine.  That’s what you think.”

He frowns at her.  He took that discussion much more seriously that she did.  “You can’t just tell me udon is better than ramen and not expect me to debate that.  There is no udon on earth that’s better than Ichiraku’s ramen!”

“We just have different tastes, Naruto-kun!”

He understands that, but he also doesn’t.  It doesn’t seem okay.  She needs to understand that Ichiraku’s ramen is the best.  “Rumi.  Ichiraku’s ramen is better than udon.”

She rolls her eyes.  “You’re obsessed.”

“No, I’m just stating facts.”

“You can’t compare ramen and udon.  They’re two different types of food.  If you took the best ramen and the best udon, they’d both be the best!”

“You’re the one who said you like udon more than ramen!”

“Oh.  I said that, didn’t I… Well, now I’m saying that they’re both good, okay?”

He can’t believe she just went back on her original words so easily.  Girls really are confusing.  Even with getting older, he still doesn’t understand them.  Kanae was the same.  First saying they were dating, and then saying that they weren’t.  What’s up with that?  Why do they always change their minds?  Why don’t they say what they mean?  Like Sakura, saying that she didn’t like Sasuke anymore.

Good thing he could tell she was lying that time.

Rumi’s not straightforward either.  She holds things in, tells him he doesn’t “get it.”  Why doesn’t she just tell him?

He blinks at her.

“I’ll take you to a really good udon place I know of!” she continues, oblivious to his confusion.

“It won’t be as good as Ichiraku’s.”

She sighs heavily.  “I’m not saying that it will be, okay.  I just want you to try it!”

Why eat anywhere else if it won’t be as good?  But he decides not to share those thoughts.  Rumi likes eating out at a lot of different places.

And that’s fine.

It just makes him a little anxious.

He remembers which places shooed him away from the windows.  Even if he didn’t want to go in, they’d yell at him if he got a little too close for their comfort.  Yelled at him that he was bad for business. That he’d disturb the other customers.

He knows that none of those places would do that to him now.  He knows that.

That doesn’t mean he wants to patron those places now.

He thinks maybe he should tell her the real reason he hasn’t tried different places.

“Have you been here before?” she’ll always ask.

And he always tells her, “Nope.  Never tried this place before.”

And then she always looks at him with eyes wide, an expression of shock.  “I can’t believe you’ve never been here!  You have to try their tonkatsu!”  Or misoyaki salmon. Or nabe.  It’ll be the same when they go get udon later.  All these foods he’s had on very rare occasions with Team 7 when Kakashi was feeling generous and responsible.  

Some foods were simply too fancy and expensive for him to have tried on his own.  He had no one to tell him to eat it.

It’s just a facet of his past that he doesn’t know how to bring up with her.  She’s younger than him, so she’s even less aware of his past than his other friends.

The topic is also just too heavy to think about.  Or really talk casually about.

So he never tells her.

She doesn’t need to know.

He guesses it’s probably a good thing for him to try other places.  Maybe kind of a way to heal and accept his past and the villagers.

*

He’s so bored.

It’s only the second day of being on sick leave, and he can’t take the monotony.

He guesses he’ll just…

Walk around.

Or something.

He steps outside.  Entertains himself with kicking loose stones to the side of the walkway.  Everything’s so dusty with continuous construction and modernization around the village.  There’s always random rocks here and there.

Teuchi-jiisan told him that Ichiraku’s might turn into a full-service restaurant soon.  They have plans in the works.  They’d have to close, though.  

He’s happy for him and Ayame-neesan.  Less happy about not having his favorite ramen for a whole season, but he knows that they deserve all the recognition for their food.  If only Rumi understood the gloriousness of their ramen.

He senses her.

He looks up.

Everything from two nights ago floods back to him.  How she looked.  How she was with that guy.  How she talked to him with that cold tone.  How she looked at him..glared...  Like she...

He freezes, nerves racing up his limbs, tightness in his chest.  

She looks so worried.  “Naruto-kun?...”  Hesitation laces her voice.  “Do you have a moment?”

He realizes she wants to talk to him.  He nods, even though he has no idea what to expect from her.  The unknown of this situation sets him on edge, makes him feel frustrated and helpless in a way he’s not used to being around her.

“...For the other night, I’m sorry.”

A jolt rattles through him.  She’s apologizing?

“I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.  You’re a good friend to me, and I know you must have had a reason.  Please accept my apology.”  She bows deeply, her long hair sweeping over her shoulders toward the ground.

“Hinata…”  It’s like a medicine.  Her words a cooling numbness over his anxiety.  It breaks through his own confusion over the matter, it makes him clearly wonder...why.  

Why did any of that happen?

What would make her act that way toward him?

She’s never-

“Naruto-kun?”

He comes out of his thoughts and sees her looking at him.  Concern shadows her expression.  He's struck with an awful sensation that the girl he used to know isn't there.  A chill sinks through him.  She looks so worried.  So sad.

Why does she look so sad?

Is it because of that guy?  “...Do you...really..like that guy?”

She blinks at him.  “Susumu-kun?” she asks.  

He holds in a grimace.  “Yeah.  Susumu.”  

Her light gaze drops slightly, eyes averting.  “I like him,” she says, her voice almost as small as a whisper.  “He’s nice to me.”  She looks up again.

His brow furrows, his gut twisting.  She likes him?  Why?  He’s nice to her?  Really?  It doesn’t look like it.  She doesn’t look happy.  She shouldn’t be with that guy.  She’s not happy. “...He’s nice to you?”

“Yes,” she states, too immediately for his liking.  “He is.  He’s almost too nice.”

He looks down to hide the heaviness pulling at him.  That guy’s nice to her?  Nice to her how?... “...You really like him?” he asks.  He realizes he needs to know this.  He needs to know.

He watches her brows raise.  The shimmer in her gaze waver.  The tension in her eyes grow.

She looks away.

She keeps her face turned down.

She doesn’t answer him.

But he already knows.  She doesn’t really like that guy.

So if she doesn’t like him, then why.  Why?  Why is she-??

“But you want to be with him,” he says, coming to the horrible realization that it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t like him.  She’s choosing to be with him.  She’s choosing...  He feels his throat close up, his chest clench painfully.  

“...I need to try, Naruto-kun…” she murmurs.

He can’t breathe.  She’s trying to like that guy.  Why?  He’s not good enough for her!  What does he have?  

Images run through his head.  That guy taking off her sweater, holding her hand, looking at her.  Holding her?  Feeling her?  Kissing her?

Having her!!

She chose him!

He flees.  As fast as he possibly can around the building, out of her eyesight.  The pressure building at his throat, acid filling his mouth.

He retches.

He can’t breathe.

It’s stuck in his throat.

He chokes.  He’s doubled over, heaving, trying to force it out.

It comes loose.

He has his mouth open as wide as possible, he’s screaming to get it out.

It lands in the puddle of his spit and stomach acid.

He blinks through the tears and gasps for air.

He knows what it is.  He’s had a feeling since before.  But seeing it is different.

A white flower.

A lily.

Each petal sealed together.  An actual flower.  Not just petals.

It’s gotten worse.

He’s supposed to tell Sakura.

He goes home.  Shuts himself in.  He’ll tell her later.  

He doesn’t feel good.

*

“I don’t feel like it tonight.”  He’s trying to convince Rumi that he doesn’t want to go out.

“Is this about the udon versus ramen thing from last night?” she asks, hands on her hips, eyes squinting at him.

“No.”  He’s not in the mood for that discussion again either.  “Sorry,” he remembers to add.  “I just don’t feel like it.”

“Fine,” she sighs, in a way that sounds like she’s not fine with it at all.  “But when I come back from my mission, you’re coming with me!”

He nods half-heartedly.

She marches into his kitchen and opens his fridge.  “You went grocery shopping the other day, right?”  She scrutinizes his shelves.  “We can make...nikujaga.”

“Okay.”  Meat and potatoes.  A simple dish that even he can make.  Just toss everything in the pot and let it simmer.  But…

He watches her remove his pork from the fridge.  He bought that to make ramen.  He wants to tell her so, but he’s not in the mood for her nagging, either.  "You should eat something other than ramen!”  “You eat too much ramen!”  “You’re going to get fat one day!”  “You’re obsessed with ramen!”  Sometimes it’s funny.  But all he eats these days are other things, at least when he’s with her.  She never wants to just enjoy ramen with him.

“You can start the rice.”

He goes to his rarely-touched container and portions it out while she washes and skins the potatoes.  He’s careful to rinse the rice.  Not like the first time they cooked together.  And he just filled the pot with water and turned the cooker on.  And she freaked out on him.  

The Sandaime taught him to cook rice when he was really little, but he was really little.  So he just got used to doing things the simplest way.  No one was there to help his little hands control the pot and and all the water and all the tiny grains.

Anyway, he didn’t tell her that.

It just didn’t seem like something he could say when she was panicking about dirty rice and looking at him like he came from another world.

But it’s kind of nice to make more than one cup of rice.  To know he’s not cooking by himself.

After rinsing the rice a few times, he starts the cooker.

She smiles at him appreciatively, sweetly.

He grins.  “See, I’m a master now.”

“Yes, you are!” she agrees happily.

After they’re finished eating, they sit close together on his couch.  But unlike other nights, he’s not really in the mood for this, either.

She’s there, at the back of his mind, with that guy, and he doesn’t want to think about it.  It makes him feel sick.

“Naruto-kun, how did you feel today?”

He stiffens.  “I was okay.”  He lied.  He lied.  He never lies.  At least not to Rumi.

“That’s good.  You didn’t vomit again?”

“...No.”  ...He just doesn’t want her to worry, right?

“Maybe you’re getting better!”

He nods.  He’s getting worse.

She leans against him and sighs happily.

Usually, usually, he likes this.  He likes having her close.  He likes being with her.

He can’t help but wonder if she does this, with that guy.  A knot grows at the center of his chest.

“Naruto-kun?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, and he thinks, he’s getting the hang of this.

She turns her chin against his arm, looks up at him.  A shine in her hazel eyes.  “Why do you love me?”

He blinks at her.  Why?  It’s pretty simple.  He’s told her this before, too.  “You’re here with me.  You put up with me.”  Like putting up with his “obsession” with ramen and his inadequate rice skills.  “I love you because you love me.”

She sits up.  She looks away in thought, her brows furrowing.  “Okay…”  She pauses.  “But...why do you love me?”

Why do I love her?  Didn’t I…  He answered wrong somehow.  “What do you mean?”

“Like...anyone could love you.  Anyone could be here with you,” she answers quietly.

He shakes his head.  Rumi thinks so highly of him.  Maybe he really should tell her more about his past.  “That’s not true, not just anyone would be with me.  I told you about Kanae, right?  She broke up with me...she couldn’t deal with me…”

“Yeah, but…”  Her lips purse in thought.  “So many people love you, Naruto-kun.”

He scratches his neck.  He knows those people don’t actually know him.  “You can ask any of my friends,” he says softly.  Should he really tell her this?  “Especially when I was younger, nobody liked me.”

“Really?” she asks in quiet disbelief.  “But you have so many friends now.”

“Yeahh, well, when I was younger, even my own teammates, Sakura-chan and Sasuke, they hated me.”

“....Why?”

“I guess…”  He asked that same question when he was younger.  “Because everyone else hated me.  It was just what everyone did.”  He also knows he was an annoying little shit, but that was because he wanted attention that nobody was giving.

“...Everyone?” she asks.

“Well...maybe not everyone…”  He occasionally had Shikamaru and Choji as playmates, and Hinata was always-

He feels all the color drain out of him, run down through his feet, tears threaten his eyes.

“Because you have Kurama?  Nobody liked you?” Her questions feel far away.

She cared about him when no one else did and why is she trying to like-  The stones in his chest push up abruptly, and he bends over, unable to hold it back.

Tears spill as the contents of his body swell and bulk from his throat, burning his esophagus raw.

“Naruto-kun!!” she shrieks.

A large wet flower falls out of his mouth.

“Wha-” she gasps.  Rumi runs to the kitchen.  She comes back with paper towels.

He’s still bent over, unwilling to show her his undoubtedly unattractive face covered in ugly tears and spit.

“What is…”  She kneels, trying to mop up his mess.  “A flower?  Is that a lily?”  She passes him a towel.

He wipes his face and mouth.  Spits excess gunk into the napkin.  He doesn’t answer.  That’s what it is.  The head of a lily.

“What kind of sickness is this?” she gasps.  “Your chakra is doing this?  You need to tell Sakura-san!”

He was never particularly religious.  Even though he finally got to meet his parents, and their conversations hold a special place in his heart, he never felt the need to visit their graves.  He never felt a need to place flowers or food.  They were fine when he met them.  They weren’t suffering.  They were happy and proud of him, even though he never went to see them.

In the past, at the time of the year when everyone goes to the graves to pay their respects to their ancestors, he never knew where to go.  He never participated.

He never had anyone to thank for giving him life.

He never felt particularly thankful for having a life.

He also hated just being alone in a crowd.

No one to go with.

No one to talk to in front of the graves.

Now he knew where to go.  He knew who his parents were.  He still didn’t really want to go.  He got to thank them, didn’t he?  When he met them?  So he didn’t have any reason to do it again, right?

But there is one person he never got to thank for his life.

He hesitated outside of Yamanaka Flowers, just kind of stood there, watching people going in and out.

It’s not like Neji was his ancestor.  But he never got to thank him in words.

“Naruto-kun?”

He looked to see her coming over to him.  “Hi, Hinata.”

“Hello,” she greeted softly.  “Are you going to buy flowers for the festival?”

He nodded.  Just a second ago, he was so unsure.  But he thought now that maybe he really would.  “Yeah…”

“For your parents?” she guessed.

“Actually, I was thinking of getting flowers for Neji…”  He watched her to see her reaction.

She smiled, a small thing that brightened her whole face, brought a shine to her eyes.  “Me, too.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded.  “My family and I are going after lunch.  Would you like to...join us?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

She looked up at him, her gaze searching his.  “Then...if you wouldn’t mind...could I join you?”

He’s always so surprised at how she seemed to know exactly what to say.  “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

She smiled again.  She looked truly happy.  “What time were you thinking of going?”

“I guess...now?  After I get flowers?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

She bought white lilies.  The same flowers she laid at the remembrance ceremony.  He bought white lilies, too.  He didn’t know what else to get.

They laid their flowers at his grave.  They prayed silently.  

It was unexpectedly quiet.  He was surprised.  With so many visitors, he expected a lot more noise.  Instead, it felt like they were in a bubble.  As if everything and everyone around them didn’t matter.  

All that mattered was this.  

This moment between them.  Between them and the grave.

“Neji-niisan...he brought me these flowers once.  When I was in the hospital,” she murmured.

He glanced at her, then back down at the flowers.  “That’s nice,” he responded, equally quiet.  As if anything louder than this would shatter a delicate peace, would disrupt the tranquil bubble surrounding them.  

“Yes.  It was really thoughtful of him.  He didn’t have to.”

He nodded.  There was a time when Neji would have never done something like that.  But he changed.

“I never got to return the gesture.  Neji-niisan was never in the hospital,” she whispered.

They sat that way for a long time.  Eyes lowered on his grave.

After about an hour, they got up.  Dusted their legs off.  They stood facing each other, hot summer wind blowing between them.  

Before this, he never knew what this part of the festival was like.  Now he knew.  “Hinata, thank you for coming with me.”

She shook her head.  She smiled at him gently.  “Thank you for letting me come with you.”  Her shoulders raised in shy discomfort, her fingers twisting together, her feet shifted in the grass.  She tucked her chin a bit, but she looked up at him through dark lashes.  “Next time, please let me join you again...that is, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Of course he didn’t mind.  He appreciated it more than words could ever say.

They visited Neji’s grave together again that year for the annual memorial.  It just felt right.  And other occasions after that.  This past summer, too.

They always brought white lilies.

*

A sign?  A foreboding message?  The flower he always takes to Neji’s grave, blooming out of him painfully.  

Even he’s not stupid enough to not realize that it’s hurting him, that it’s getting worse and likely will continue to get worse.  His chakra is out of wack, attacking his lungs.  He doesn’t have to meditate to feel the congestion and weight of his chakra in his chest.  Ever since the petals formed actual flowers, he doesn’t feel better after each throw-up.

He feels sick.

He feels anxious and helpless.

He feels like any wrong move could lead to another episode, like those flowers, those lilies, are just waiting to burst out of him.

Somewhere between last week and this week, he crossed a line of no-return.

And he fears.

He fears the cure is out of his control.

He sees her every time he remembers the lilies, and he feels a little worse.  The knot in his chest twitches or grows.  His breathing gets harder.  The bottom of his throat burns, irritated from acid.

He goes to see Sakura again.

“It’s getting worse?” she asks immediately when he steps through her office door.

“No…”  He lied.  Again.  “I just wanted to tell you that I think it really is white lilies.”  He doesn’t think it.  He knows it.

She sighs.  Heavily.  “I know.  I tested the substances yesterday.”

He nods.  Of course she already figured that out.

“You haven’t been vomiting any more up, have you?”

He shakes his head.  He doesn’t want to be confined to the hospital.  “Did you figure anything else out, yet?”

“I’ve been discussing your case with Shishou.  She said she thinks she’s heard of something like this before, but she’s not sure.  We have to go through the past medical records.  And it’s a lot.  I don’t know how long it will take for us to find anything, or if we’ll find anything at all, but when we do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“...So...what happens if you don’t find anything?”  He doesn’t get it.  What’s wrong with him?  Why don’t Sakura and Tsunade know?  They’re the top medic-nin in the world, and they don’t know what’s wrong?!

“In the case that this doesn’t go away on its own, we’ll have to conduct a thorough examination.  It may involve going through your memories to find a root cause.”  

“That’s…”  He stares at her in horror.  That’s incredibly invasive.  “Why?”

“That’s worst case scenario.  You see, Naruto, the thing is, chakra illnesses are not the same as sicknesses of the body.  Chakra is still being studied.  New discoveries are being made every day.  Each person’s chakra is unique.  A person’s chakra is influenced by the parents’, but also by the environmental factors they grow up in, as well as moods and feelings.  Chakra can be shared, it can be conditioned, it can be strengthened, as you know it can be mixed with nature energy, and its depletion can lead to death.  Who knows what else and more there is to be discovered!”

He nods, not sharing in her enthusiasm about chakra at all.  His own chakra is killing him.  Did she learn that from her books?  Apparently not.  He makes to leave.

“Wait!”

He stops.

“Before you go, I want to know if you’ve thought of anything else.  It’s your body, and it’s your chakra.  What connection do you have to white lilies?”

He stares at Sakura.  Her face flashes through his mind’s eye, and the knot in his chest pinches.  “I don’t know,” he mumbles out.  “I’m not much of a flower person,” he adds, for no reason other than to reject the pain.  He actually usually likes flowers.

Sakura deflates a bit.  “Okay.  Well, if you figure anything out, let me know right away.  Any bit of information helps.”

“Thanks, Sakura-chan.”  He leaves.  

*

He meditates for hours on end.  Just like when he was going through his Sage training five years ago.

He stores up nature energy and distracts himself with the hundreds of pulsating, twinkling lives around him.  He quiets his mind and lets himself seep into everything around him.

It makes him feel a little better.  Like Sakura suggested, it really helps to relieve the pressure.  It seems to help him regulate his chakra, and after a solid session of meditation, his chest doesn’t feel nearly as heavy.

Until one morning.

He senses her with someone else.  The two alone.  In the woods.  At a training ground.

Instinctively he knows exactly who it is.  He knows exactly what they’re doing.

He can sense Hinata’s chakra flaring to life, and he knows her chakra.  He’s been on the receiving end of her blows, and he can just imagine her fighting expressions, her form and strength, and-

Aggravation unlike anything seizes his muscles.

He cuts the connection, dissipates the nature energy as fast as possible, his chakra balance dangerously thrown off.

He stares at his wall, but instead he sees her.   He sees the dauntless lines of her Juuken, every powerful strike of her graceful hands, the astounding manifestation of her vibrant chakra on her fists, the stunning challenge she invokes, increasingly working brilliantly faster, and he-

He feels too large for his space, a man stuffed in a sealed barrel with no way out.  The smell of his vomit makes him only choke out another one.  This time he made it to his trashcan.

But what does it matter if he makes a mess.

He threw his papers all over the floor.  He broke his table.  He shattered a glass against the wall.

He doesn’t feel better.

He feels worse.

There’s no way back.  There’s no stopping it.

That guy loves her.  If he didn’t before, he does now because there’s nothing like it.  There’s nothing to compare after seeing her like that.

His eyes burn, and his face flames with frustration that has no outlet.  His hands clench and unclench, he squeezes blunt nails into his palms.

He stares at a fully bloomed lily, the stamens streak orange stains on the petals.

“Oh no,” she gasped.  Her finger wiped at brown splotches on the stone.

He frowned at the sight.

“The caretakers must leave the flowers out for too long,” she murmured as she took out a handkerchief from her pocket.

“Those marks are from the flowers?” he asked.

She nodded.  “The pollen falls off the flowers when the flowers get old.  They can leave a stain.”  She rubbed hard at the headstone.

He filled the grave’s bamboo cup with water.  She dipped her handkerchief in the water, then rubbed.  And rubbed.  And rubbed.

He tried to clean the stone, too.

After awhile, he thought maybe the stains wouldn’t come out.  “You know, maybe he likes some color.  It’s a reminder that you visit him.”

She smiled in spite of her dismay.  “A reminder for him that you visit, too.”

He nods.  “Yeah!  You know, the stains turned kind of orange now, and, y’know, I’m orange, the stains are orange, it’s definitely symbolic.”

She laughed, a sound that made it seem like the graveyard was actually the most peaceful and wonderful place on earth.  “I’ll come back later with proper cleaning supplies.  I’m sure Neji-niisan doesn’t like being orange.”

He laughed, too.

The memory leaves him with no warmth.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to prevent tears.

She chose that guy.  She chose that guy.  She chose that guy.

What about me?  What about us?  Why did she choose that guy?  How could she?

How could she just…

*

Rumi stares at his empty dining area.  “Where did your table go?”

“I threw it out,” he answers shortly.

Her confused gaze darts to him.  “Oh.  Are you thinking of getting a new one?”

He shrugs.  “Guess so.”

“Naruto-kun?”  She steps closer to him, her hand coming up to his arm.  “What’s wrong?”

He steps away from her unthinkingly.

Her hand is left in the air.  Her hand folds, and she brings it down to her side.  “What’s wrong?�� she asks again.

He knows what’s wrong.  But he can’t tell her what’s wrong.  He can’t tell her that he spied on Hinata and her boyfriend, found out that they were sparring, broke his table and vomited out two more flowers consecutively while she was away.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No.  I’m fine.”  It sounds like a lie even to his own ears.

“Naruto-kun, tell me what’s wrong!  We need to communicate.”

He turns and stares at her.  “We need to communicate?” he repeats.  “You never tell me what’s bothering you!  And when I do tell you what I think, you get mad at me!”

She blinks at him in shock at his sudden yell.  Her face twists into a frown.  “I don’t get mad at you!  What are you talking about?”

“You got mad at me when I talked about my friends that are girls!  You don’t like it when I talk about ramen!  You got mad when you saw how I cooked rice!”

“Wha-  I haven’t gotten mad about your friends in a long time!  It was just that once!  That was a long time ago!  And it wasn’t about that!  I was mad because you didn’t seem to care that I didn’t like you talking about them!”

He squints at her, confused.

“And I don’t get mad when you talk about ramen or how you cooked rice!”

“Really because it seemed that way to me!”  The more he’s thought about it, the more he thinks she overreacts.

“Noo, what?!  I wasn’t mad!  I don’t get mad!  I just thought that it was weird!”

He pauses to process that.  But he doesn’t like it any better.  “Well maybe I don’t like it that you think I’m weird!”

“What?  Wha-”  She stares at him with that look again, like he’s from another planet.  “Why didn’t you tell me back then!  You were thinking about that all this time?  That was like...so long ago!”

“Well I’m telling you now!  And don’t act like you don’t do the same thing!  You hold onto stupid stuff, too!”

She pauses, then gasps, obviously offended.  “...Is that what you think?  When I get upset, you think that it’s stupid?”

He throws his hands into the air.  “Well you never explain yourself, so yeah, I have no idea what you’re upset about, and I think it’s stupid!”

She glares at him.  Her eyes suddenly gloss, filled with tears.  “I come back from my mission to check on you, and this is what you’ve got to say to me?”

He glares back.  She doesn’t apologize for anything he was upset about, and now she cries?  What the hell?  She just does that to make him feel bad!

She turns abruptly and storms out of his apartment.

His door slams.

He stands there, his body seething with repressed frustration.

On instinct, he rushes to his toilet.

Nothing happens.

He’s so mad, but nothing.

He doesn’t feel at all like vomiting.

He leaves his bathroom, throws himself on his bed.

Shuts his eyes.

He knows he shouldn’t have yelled at Rumi like that, but he’s been on edge since two days ago.  He’s afraid to meditate.  He’s afraid to find out more.  He’s afraid that what’s happening…

Has to do with her.

He’s afraid that his fear is correct.

Because if it is…

He thinks it’ll be too painful, he might die.

Actually die.

His chakra is constricting his breathing.  His chest is heavy.  His eyes burn.

She chose him.  She chose him.

#naruhina #fanfic #angst #hanahaki #canon divergence #no the last #naruhina fanfiction

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Shokugeki no Hiraku - Chapter 4

-One of the Three-

“Do you know her?” Hiraku asked while him and Kyo were walking out of the arena. “Huh?” Kyo responded. Hiraku’s face remained unreadable as he continued. “You said you know everyone, so doesn’t that mean you also know that Kung Fu-girl?” For a short moment Kyo remained silent before he exclaimed. “Oh? Hojo? Ah.” He began scratching the back of his head once again. “Ahahah, of course I know her. I had a few classes with her throughout middle school and I told ya I am tight to the big personalities of our Generation, didn’t I? Shall I introduce her to you?” Hiraku didn’t answer but still Kyo took his arm and dragged him to the side. “We’ll wait in front of the Arena, maybe we can meet her once she leaves!” And so they did. The sky had already turned orange and most students already begun walking into direction of wherever their home was while Kyo and Hiraku remained in front of the Arena. Hiraku had his eye fixated on the entrance they were standing in front of, while Kyo was sharing all of his grand achievements on the academy thus far. “And because my former English teacher was such an unfair nag, I started to rebel. She tasked us to write 200 words for our essay, but get this, I wrote 202 to show her she’s not my damn Boss. So Yukihira, should you ever have troubles with a teacher, you know who to call!“ “Hm.” Hiraku hummed as a response to Kyo’s rambling to which he paid about eighty percent of attention. Kyo however seemed satisfied with Hiraku’s response, as he gave a proud nod before exclaiming. “Oh, I should tell you about that time where I didn’t wrote a date on our math test because the teacher was basically bullying the class and I just couldn’t let that sta-“ Hiraku had raised his finger a bit and pointed towards something in the front. “There she is.” He spoke dryly as always. This made Kyo interrupt his monologue and to rather ask. “Who?” Hiraku stoically responding “The Kung-Fu Girl” made him realise what they were here for in the first place and how he had turned away more and more from the entrance while talking. Now that he was reminded he did make a turn and instantly saw the figure that was leaving the gate. 

The bright, red fan, easily spotted from a far revealed instantly who this figure was and the nearer she came the clearer became the other distinguishable features like the wild, blonde hair, the extraordinary long, flowing cowlick that sprouted out of her head like a flower and the shining, confident, violet eyes which all in entirety made Hojo Suzume. She was not in a Cheongsam anymore which Hiraku assumed to be in the sport bag she held in her fan-free hand. Instead she had now put on a blazer coloured in a more than familiar navy blue accompanied with an equally familiar checkered skirt. Unlike most students on Totsuki however, Suzume had unbuttoned her blazer and you could see the white shirt that was worn underneath it. There was also no sight of either a striped ribbon or tie on her collar. “Hm.” Hiraku looked down on himself and the equally unbuttoned blazer and equally missing tie. “On my old school I was the only person to wear my school uniform that way. Now I don’t feel special anymore.” As Kyo failed to find any words to cheer him up about this fact, he just decided to say nothing and rather raise his voice to call up Suzume to show how tight he was with her. “Hojo!” He waved with a friendly smile. 

Hearing her surname made Suzume stop in her walk and rather turn her head. Accelerating her walk a little bit she then approached the two with a friendly smile on her lips. “Hiya!” She greeted Kyo once near enough for him to hear. As she came to a hold then, she asked. “Do I know you?” To Kyo it felt like 50 kg weight were dropped on his head. “Ahaha!” He laughed slightly forced. “Hojo you’re always been much of a joker.” His “laughter” faded and he revealed. “Honda Kyo, we uhm had a few classes together throughout middle school.” Suzume continued smiling friendly while her eyes blinked two times. Clearly she could not recall on bit of memory of the purple-haired boy in front of her. Kyo began scratching the back of his head like it was common for him, as even Hiraku had noticed at that point. “Eh well, whatever. First off: Congrats! You’re one step closer now, eh? That was certainly impressive.” At that Suzume grinned and eagerly nodded four times. “Ah, Thank you, Thank you! And yeah!” Her nodding stopped but the grin remained. “We’re in the grand finale now.” “Ahaha.” Kyo laughed a little awkwardly once again. “We’re all behind you! Well except for....you know...But ah, who cares about him am I right? Anyways, Hojo I wanted to introduce someone to you...” He made a presenting gesture towards Hiraku, which made Suzume turn her head to him and for the first time see him in full on detail. “Hojo, this is-“ Before Kyo could finish, Suzume had already leaned closer to Hiraku’s face and exclaimed. “Oh, it’s the transfer student!” Her eyes grew a bit bigger in genuine curiosity about Hiraku’s persona. “Yukihira was it right?” She left him no time to confirm her assumption as she rather begun to giggle. “Your speech was really funny!” Hiraku tilted his head a bit in wonderment about that statement. He could not inquire about it however as Suzume already dropped her bag to the floor and held her now free hand out to Hiraku. “Well let me take my responsibility as one of it’s three aces and formally welcome you then as a part of the 114th Generation!” She winked. “Nice to meet you.” For three seconds or so Hiraku stared at the hand as if he was inspecting it on any possible taint or ink that could stain his hands, before he took it and shook it. “Nice to meet you as well......er....” A significant silence began stretching as Hiraku just stared into Suzume’s violet orbs, while holding on to her hand and she only returned the gaze expectingly. Kyo’s eyes widened. “I just said her name not too long ago.” He hissed. “She just had a Shokugeki, how could you forget it this quickly?!” Hiraku turned his head to Kyo and said. “Ah sorry, when you two had your talk I was thinking about squid recipes.” “You what?!” Kyo shrieked. Suzume however pulled her hand back and began to laugh. “Nyahahahaha!” Her eyes which had closed while she had her outburst of laughter opened again and eyed Hiraku with no anger or even displeasure in them. Just pure amusement. “I like you! You’re a really funny one indeed!” Hiraku shifted his attention back to Suzume and tilted his head in response. Suzume widely grinned and proudly put her free hand on her hip. “Don’t worry about it! I’ll give you my introduction!” There was an almost mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she lifted her fan a bit closer to her while simultaneously raising her index finger. “I am the daughter of two of the best Chinese chefs to have ever lived.” The mischievous glimmer turned to what Hiraku had already seen in her eyes when she was having her Shokugeki. That sort-of onfident and ambitious spark he had only seen in few people so far. “Future head Chef of Hojo-Ra, future 1st Seat of Totsuki and....future president of the Chinese RS.” Her voice got louder and she began to pose. “Hojo Suzume is my name. And believe me that this will be the last time you forgot it!” “You sure have many plans, Hojo.” Was the first thing Hiraku after Suzume’s speech was over. The girl began laughing once again afterwards. She then picked up her sports bag from the ground and looked at the two. “Well, you always gotta have some plans in life, no?” Kyo only nodded in response while Hiraku couldn’t come up with one. “I hope you two enjoyed the Shokugeki by the way!” Suzume hummed then. “I hope I gave you a good impression of Totsuki, Yukihira.” There was no doubt to anyone that despite her words she was sure that she had done so. And to her credit Kyo, who was more in the position to judge this than Hiraku was, made no attempt to doubt her. “Your dish was impressive as always, Hojo! You really showed that guy, ahaha...” Another laughter of Suzume’s ensued and at this point Hiraku felt he would never, ever forget the sound of it. “Well, I certainly had fun! But thanks for the compliment!” In her mind Suzume replayed the footage of her victory being announced, which resulted in a slight chuckle once again. “About those Shokugeki things.....” Hiraku suddenly brought up, earning him the simultaneous shift of attention to him by both Kyo and Suzume. It was almost as if all noise around them shut down for him to say the following words. No birds chirping, no classmates chatting in the distance, no wind shaking up the trees. Just Hiraku saying: “You think we could have one of these?” Absolute silence. It truly was like Mother Nature itself couldn’t believe what had just been said. Kyo’s eyes widened and his jaw fell open. The ends of Suzume’s everlasting smile sunk a little bit, while her usually so lively eyes became blank for a second of legit astonishment. Hiraku however remained just the same, wondering what caused Suzume to take so long for her reply. The first one to speak up was Kyo however. “Yukihira!” He yelped. Straight-faced as usual, Hiraku shifted his focus to him. “Hm? What is it, Honda?” His expectations for a detailed explanation were disappointed however as Kyo just began stammering. “Did you just.....? Yukihira, you can’t.......! This is a different level........” More confused than before, Hiraku blinked and leaned a tad bit closer wondering if Kyo had whispered the second parts of his sentences and he just didn’t caught them. Kyo took a deep breath, preparing himself to give elaboration. However just as he had opened his mouth, Suzume’s voice found its way back into the conversation. “You are a funny guy indeed.” Perfectly in sync, Hiraku and Kyo turned their heads back to the blonde. Her little moment of surprise felt like a distant memory, as her smile was back and friendly as always and her eyes shone ever so brightly again. “I had a feeling you would be an entertaining addition and I guess I was right.” Hiraku felt that there was honesty in her voice. “You must be talented to have been approved on this school and I don’t doubt it at all. I am sure you will stir up the rest of the 114th Generation real good, me however....“ Her voice became a lot more firmer and once again it was as if nature surrounding them silenced itself to give her a stage to speak. And to also make sure that Hiraku would fully understand Suzume‘s following words. “I am sorry but you’re really not something  I want to focus on right now.” She initiated a pause, letting the words hang in the air and sink further and further into Hiraku’s mind. That way she was making sure to let her statement be a final. Once she had decided it had been enough, a jolly laughter emerged from her again. “Well, I gotta go now! I still gotta meet up with a few people! But!” A grin as bright and wide as the sun flashed up again. “It was nice meeting ya!” She made a swift turn, keeping her elegant stature throughout it. “Bye-Bye, Purple Phantom of Middle School Classes and Squid-Brain!” And with a slight bounce in her feet, she walked away. Hiraku watched her, not in full understanding about her words. He got the information that she didn’t want to battle him however what he didn’t got was the why. He decided to inquire the all-knowing, tight-with-everyone Kyo Honda about it. However as he made the head turn towards the purple haired teen something about the wide blue eyes, slightly furrowed brows and pressed together lips told him that he did not even have to voice his question. “Yukihira.” Kyo began. “You can’t just casually challenge everyone you meet to a Shokugeki. That right there was Hojo Suzume. One of the three. One of the last persons you should challenge to a Shokugeki.” A long “Hmmmmmmmmmmm” full of wonderment escaped Hiraku. After a bit of analysis in his head, he spoke. “But she refused didn’t she? So is it really a problem?” “Yeah!” Kyo instantly answered. “You still gotta learn a lot. One thing being to not just nonchalantly challenging the titans to a fight. You greatly embarrass yourself that way, Yukihira! Think about your image!” As Hiraku merely tilted his head, Kyo realised that his tirade was not very effective when the other party was only understanding half of the situation. So he took a deep breath and went into explanation. “Wanna know why she refused? She considers you way out of her league. And wanna know why?” The tone in Kyo’s voice reminded Hiraku slightly of the tone his mom had when scolding him, so he had the feeling that he was left no real choice anyway but he gave a nod regardless. Kyo raised his index finger and laid more urgency into his voice. “Within the 114th Generation there’s three students greatly outstanding from the rest. From day uno on their accomplishments within Totsuki had been much grander and notable than any of the other students in the generation. Throughout our three years of middle school it came explicitly clear that the three can outclass any other member with ease.” Hiraku felt like he was being told some legend about knights, kings and gods. “It is without doubt that they’re talent-wise ahead all of us. They basically have spots in the Elite 10 reserved for them next year.” He nodded towards the direction Suzume had left and with full seriousness stated. “Hojo Suzume is one of them. She’s part of what we have dubbed: ‘The Unmatched Three.’” “Cool name.” Was Hiraku’s first input to the conversation. Kyo huffed. “None of the three is in any way concerned with battling one of us! They have their focus set on completely other things already! Hojo for one has shifted her attention to the second years, as you saw. And as you also saw, she possesses the skill to outmatch them!” Hiraku had placed two fingers on his chin, his brows furrowed in concentration as his eyes had a calculating sense to them. He seemed to be in deep thought, which made Kyo decide to stop his ramble. Relief was going through Kyo. Maybe Hiraku had understand that you cannot just challenge whoever was passing by and would be a bit more considerate from now on, sparing him and Kyo a lot of troubles. Hiraku took his hand off his chin as a possible sign for him having come to a conclusion. Not the conclusion Kyo wanted to hear however. “I have herewith decided to become one of the Unmatched Three.” Hiraku stated as dry and blunt as ever. The other party in this conversation showed a bit more emotions towards this. “EEEEEEHHHH?!” Just like you’d expect it of him at this point Hiraku only repeated his new-found goal: “I will become on of the Unmatched Three.” Before he could outline his plan further however, Kyo interjected with fists balled in frustration. “You can’t just become one of the Unmatched Three! It wouldn’t be the Unmatched Three then anymore now would it?” Hiraku’s eyes widened a bit at that as he realised that he did not consider that. “Hm, that’s a problem indeed.” He then replied and began rubbing his chin. “I suppose it would be the Unmatched Three  Plus One then....” Was his resolution. Kyo protested. “That’s just an absolute Utopian thought, Yukihira!” Hiraku’s eyes narrowed. “Uto-what?” Kyo could only groan in response.

#Shokugeki no Soma #Shokugeki no Hiraku #Sorina #TeruMiyo #I said this would be faster to update some long time ago didn't I? #Well time to stick to my words

[jimin-and-things]

Home

Pairing: Yoongi×Reader

Warnings: there's nothing too bad, just a mention of bullying

Note: This is just based off a dream I had the other night, and in the dream so much happened sooo there may be a part 2, but I don't know yet.

A/n: Alrighty! This is my first time writing something like this, so it's pretty garbage. But I am kinda proud of it and it's kinda good for being just a little introduction to the next few parts, I still don't know if there will be other parts but yeah I really hope you guys like it! 💜

"I really hope you like it here"

Your brother says to you with a reassuring smile, he pats your shoulder then lifts up a box labeled 'fragile'. You sigh "me too" you mumble underneath your breath and with that he walks away. You follow behind him with another box. Your dad got offered a job and he had to be relocated. This meant that your whole family had to go, and honestly, you didn't hate the idea of moving.

It's fall at the moment and all the leaves are turning different shades of red and yellow. The neighborhood has bunches of oak trees towering the houses. Many of the houses were made from brick and had groups of flowers bunching up around the yards and you watched as the groups of kids rode their bikes along the streets. The neighborhood was tranquil and quite pretty to say the least.

"Sooo, what do you guys think?" Your dad walks into the living room and leans against the door frame while smiling widely at you and your brother. You two are unpacking the boxes of random items that you forgot even existed.

"I don't know, it seems kinda boring here" you scoff at him "you've barely been here for 3 hours, give it some time" he rolls his eyes and then mumbles something that is inaudible to you. You walk past your dad to pick up another box thats labeled, "y/n's things" you glance at your dad then take the box into your arms, "well if it makes you feel any better, I think I'm gonna like it here" and with that you walked up the stairs while carrying the box.

You lay out all the items from the box across the floor of your empty new room. You take out a year book from the box and you knew you shouldn't open it, knowing that it would bring back too many memories that you didn't need at the moment. But instead, you open the yearbook and your eyes begin scanning the notes that people wrote. Every word you read hit you deeper and deeper. 'Bitch' 'Everybody hates you' 'Go rot' you came across these words too often as you were reading and before you knew it, you felt a tear fall across your cheek. That single tear turned into a whole stream of tears that you couldn't stop. You throw the yearbook across your room and pull your legs up to your chest and let the tears fall, sniffling every so often.

You stand up after your done crying and wipe your red, puffy eyes. You walk over to the window and see the trees swaying gently in the wind as the leaves dance around on the ground. You huff, I need to clear my head. And with that you grab your black jacket and you go down the stairs and just as you're about to open the front door you hear your mom,

"Where are you going sweety??" She strides towards you but you look down so she doesn't see your puffy eyes from crying, "I just want to go for a walk and have a better look at the neighborhood, is that okay" You still don't look at her and she tilts her head then smiles at you, "Of course y/n, go ahead, just be back by dinner okay?" You nod and with that, you're out the door, ready to get your mind off of everything.

The neighborhood is a good distraction for you. With each step you take, you can hear the crunch of the leaves under your shoes. When you glance up from the leaves you see chipmunks scurrying around, chasing eachother through the yards of the houses. You continue walking, happier than before you left your house and you may even have a bit of pep in your step. As you're walking you come upon a house that has someone sitting on the steps on the front porch. He's not looking at you but from what you can see from his profile, he is very handsome. And must've been too distracted by him because before you know it, you are on the ground. You tripped over a rock on the sidewalk and you groan as you slowly sit up while rubbing your hand. Ouch, why are you so clumsy?? You were about to get up and painfully run away in embarrassment when you hear him, "Wow, are you okay?" You look up to see where the voice is coming from and the face that greets you is gorgeous. Your mouth hangs open and you say nothing. When you still stay silent he squats down so he can come face to face with you, he has worry on his face, "hellooo??" When he says that you snap out of it and your face turns crimson red and you look down, "I...I'm fine" you try to get up and you hiss in pain and you look down at your knee, "you're bleeding, come on let me get you cleaned up" he holds his hand out to you but when you don't take it he tilts his head at you.

"I don't even know your name and you expect me just to walk into your house?" You gawk your head at him and he pulls his hand away and scratches his neck awkwardly, "Right, my bad, you're smart though, I could've just been a serial killer and dragged you into my house to kill you" you look at him with wide eyes, trying to make out if he was joking or not.

He notices your shocked facial expression and he chuckles, "oh come on, I'm joking! I wouldn't even think of killing you" he laughs lightly before looking down at your now ripped jean that shows your scraped up knee, "My names Yoongi, if that helps you, now can I please help clean that up?" he says while pointing to all the scratches on your hands and knees. You smile up at him Yoongi, what a nice name. You let a bit of your guard down to him and then nod at him, "My names y/n, if that helps you" a gummy smile lights up on his face when he hears your name and man oh man, it was the cutest smile you've ever seen you suddenly feel your face going red once again and you look down as he leads you into his house.

Yoongi's house was alittle messy, but it felt homey. The front door opened into the living room, he had pieces of music equipment scattered throughout, "this way" he takes your hand in his and you smile at the feeling of your hand in his, he leads you into the kitchen and pulls a chair out for you to sit down, he walks out of the kitchen and you replay the image of him in your head, his gummy smile stays in your mind. You snap out of your thoughts when he walks back into his kitchen with a small first-aid kit, he pulls out another chair and sits in front of you while taking out the items he needs from the kit. You watch as his hands work through the kit, pulling out items such as neosporin and bandages.

He glances up at you for a minute but then goes back to working on opening the cap to the neosporin, "So you must be part of the family that moved in down the street"

You nod then he takes your hand in his and places it palm up and begins applying the cream and you watch him work on your hand with concentration on his face, "So do you like it here so far?" His eyes flick up to yours for a split second and then he gets back to work, "I really like it so far, do you know how adorable this neighborhood is? it seems so calm here" He hums in agreement, "you're right, it is pretty calm here, its peaceful, thats one of the main reasons I decided to move here" his hands work their way to your leg, they linger on your thigh a bit longer until you notice and then he moves them down to your knee and he begins to work on patching up your knee, its silent for a minute until you break the silence, "You have a nice smile ya know" stupid, you just had to blurt that out, you blush profusely, you hear him chuckle, "why thank you very much" he eyes your blushing face and he smiles warmly at you then he finishes and puts a band-aid on your knee

"Alrighty, you're good to go" He helps you stand up from your chair then he looks around trying to break the silence, "So uhh...do you need anything else? Do you want something to drink?" He goes toward his fridge and grabs a water bottle, "I have water if you want one" you shake your head, "No thanks, I should really get going, my mom wants me back for dinner" he's alittle disappointed but he doesn't let it show.

He smiles at you and sets the water bottle on the counter and walks over to you, he looks into your eyes and glances down at your lips for a split second, "Well, hopefully I'll see you around y/n" you grin at him, "you'll definitely see me again, don't worry" you step closer to him, daring to look back up into his gorgeous eyes, "and thank you for helping patch me up today, I swear I'm not usually that clumsy" your voice is full of sincerity and he smirks at you, "Well please just be careful, I really don't need to be patching you up whenever you walk by me" you both laugh in unison and he opens the front door for you and watches as you step out of his house, and you begin to walk away, he smiles contently as he watches you walk away from him. He sighs then shuts the front door, he sits on his couch and smiles, he's alittle happier now that he's met you.

You step into your house, "I'm home!" Your mom comes walking over to you as your taking off your shoes and jacket, "oh there you are! I was beginning to get worried, where did you go?" You grin slightly while thinking of the charming man that you felt an instant connection to, "oh nowhere, I just got alittle distracted" she gives you an odd look but shrugs it off and you follow her into the kitchen thats beginning to come together, now that theres no more boxes piling into the kitchen. And when you all sit down to eat, you smile, you're alittle happier now that you met him

#aaaa #its my first time writing something like this so it kinda sucks #bts #bts fanfic #yoongi #suga #bts suga

[binnsowen]

Assassination Vacation Tour: Review

From the beginning of queuing, to the tiring taxi journey home, the atmosphere around Resorts World was electric. Even from turning up to the surprisingly short line at midday, the weather-battered, homeless-looking groups of fans seemed to still be full of energy, despite clearly looking like they’ve been there since the early hours of the morning. However, as exciting as this day panned out to be, it slowly got less and less exciting as the wait grew more and more. Keeping us outside for an extra 1 and half hours wasn’t the best decision on the staff’s behalf. Nonetheless, as soon as my ticket was scanned and I was in, the excitement I reminisced at the beginning of waiting instantly came flooding back, and the buzz was back in the air. After grabbing food, drinks and any merchandise that took my fancy, then came probably the strangest way of moving to the standing area I’ve ever encountered. The first 100-or-so people in the queue were stamped and given a number on the way in, and these numbered people had to stand in another queue in numerical order. We were then told to walk towards the standing area, in a single file line without pushing, shoving or trying to run to the front. To be honest, I’m surprised we weren’t asked to sit in our rows with our legs crossed and our finger over our lips. It was as if I was back in first school. It also doesn’t do them any favours as we were given a safety brief before the acts came out. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself and ask ‘When has this ever happened at a concert before?’. Despite all of this, I secured my place at the barrier, trying my hardest not to let the girl behind me elbow her way in front of me. It was only then, at this moment in time, that it hit me, at the same time it hit everyone else. The main reason all 15,000 people were there, for one reason and one reason only: to wait a further 3 hours for the supporting act and Tory to finish and go mad when Drake comes out.

Baka was the only supporting act; and despite it wasn’t the largest, he drew in quite the crowd and was the perfect act to hype everyone up for the remaining artists to appear later on in the night. I couldn’t help but feel bad for Baka though. Even though his set was strong and consistent, it didn’t quite have that ‘wow’ factor as any other performer would. And the worst thing? There isn’t anything that he can do as of now that will help that. Because, in terms of concerts, the only way to impress a large audience from the get-go is to be well cemented into the industry, so to speak. As I was looking around the arena, I noticed that almost 3 quarters of the seats weren’t even filled, and simply because nobody cares about who’s on stage at this time. Especially if it is someone that they haven't even heard of, as I could hear a few people from way back in the standing section question who Baka even was. Which goes to show, in hip-hop, the fans are reserved for those who are on top of the game and know how to finesse the business. Which I think, is extremely unfair, but that point is for another time.

After an hour of Baka’s set, then came Tory Lanez. And with him, came along a lot more hype and anticipation. This point in the night is where the butterflies in your belly begin to shake violently with excitement, as a 5 foot 7 inch Canadian darts around the stage screaming into a microphone, dressed in a varsity jacket, skinny jeans and high top vans. Lanez’s music never fails to get you into that high-school-party, drunk-and-high-at-the-same-time, I-think-I-can-sing-esque mood, and this mood only heightens when you see him perform live. Girls were going crazy for him singing about the birds that he’s slept with on songs like LUV, Say it and recently released Freaky, and the lads were waiting for the mosh-pit bangers to come such as Shooters, Litty and Ferris Wheel. So his performance was unsurprisingly diverse, and could appeal to any listener. And with the addition of Baka before hand, it was strategic placing them together as Tory supported the hype that Baka had created perfectly. The best thing however, was the fact the security has to literally pick him up and throw him back on the stage after he’d been for a spot of crowd surfing. I was creasing at the fact that he could've probably jumped back up, but it was as if they threw him back up just to take the mick. His set then came to a close, and then came the final interval of the evening, with nobody else to perform other than the man of the hour, or 7 hours in this instance.

After about 30 minutes of standing around, the interval music came to a stop and the lights began to dim. This alone was enough to send the audience into hysterics, as they screamed at the top of their lungs recording nothing but an empty stage. But the stage wasn’t empty for long, however it wasn’t filled with a bearded rapper from Toronto, it was filled with a square curtain covering the entire stage floor being lowered from the ceiling. When it hit the floor, images of palm trees, coconuts and hula girls were vibrantly projected onto the curtain and the theme music to Austin Powers was played. At this moment, I wondered whether or not I was at the show. I was looking around to see if people were as confused as I was, but they all seemed to be hypnotised by the silhouettes of a horny spy. But as the projections disappeared, there happened to be somebody behind the curtain. Somebody tall, in a Louis Vuitton assault vest, holding a microphone. Seeing this outline made the crowd even more hysterical. It was at this moment that the introduction of 8 out of 10 began playing, and then the figure came to life, rapping along to it. Because I was stood at the barrier, I could see slightly through the curtain and could easily tell that the figure was Drake, if it wasn’t obvious enough. After the first verse ended, the curtain was raised to reveal the 6 God himself, live in the flesh. A part of me couldn’t believe it. That was the real Drake, stood a couple of meters in front of me. And as his performance went on, it wasn’t settling in any more.

Drake’s live performances are a priceless experience. From the clever use of pyrotechnics to the talented back up dancers that accompanied him on stage, you can clearly tell that Drake is at his best when he is on stage. Despite this, it pains me to admit that I felt his show was rushed and disorganised. Some songs were left unfinished, which was a shame because the older Drake songs on the set list (arguably his best era) were played for about 10 seconds each. To rub salt in the wound, they were all played with no breaks or intermission between each other. So in a sense, there was no real point in playing them at all. It was almost as if he had somewhere much better to be than there. Because of this, I found it hard at times to engage with him and with what he was doing, even though I desperately wanted to. Nevertheless, he still managed to put out an exceptional performance of his recent music. The transitions between certain tracks were executed smoothly, and his delivery of them were executed even more so. I really managed to notice the diversity of Drake as an artist whilst watching him, which is a skill I see many other rappers attempt but fail. He can easily perform a song such as Jumpman with the expected energy and charisma, and then manage to calm himself and the arena down with a soft and soppy performance of Peak. He can have any audience on strings and is in complete control of how they act and feel throughout his performance. To obtain this skill to such a degree is something that no other musician has, which is one of the many reasons that Drake is the best performer out of today’s generation of rappers; and probably the best rapper out of them too. But again, that’s for another time.

To summarise, Baka and Tory Lanez hyped the night up perfectly; no other 2 acts could’ve done it better. However, Drake could’ve handled that hype a little bit better and his delivery of certain songs could’ve been a bit more consistent. But this slight criticism doesn’t diminish his performance in any way, shape or form: it was a quality show. Was it worth going? Absolutely. Was it worth £120 and a 7 hour wait? Absolutely not. I cannot recommend going to any Drake concert enough. It is an experience that cannot be matched by any other artist simply because of how much of a natural born performer he really is. But my only piece of advice would be to choose wisely. If you’re going to pay that much and wait that long, go to Canada and see him there. I feel as if it would've been worth that much if there was some sort of after party to go to, or some form of exclusives included in the ticket price. Whether that be merch or a smaller show or whatever, it just wasn’t quite £120 material. But one thing is for certain, I look forward to the release of Drake’s next album that he said he would be working on as soon as the Assassination Vacation is over. So if he was to rush the next 11 shows, I wouldn't mind at all.  

#drake #torylanez #bakanotnice #hiphop #resortsworld #assassinationvacation

[saarebare]

Losing you

Growing up, there’s not a lot of constants in life it seems. Different friends, growing out of relationships, changing grades, new clothes when the old ones become too small. When you’re young you take things for granted, especially people. When you’re young, it’s impossible to interpret how short life really is- the thought of losing those people in your life who ARE constants is not even relevant because you’re too busy playing with your newest gadget or engaged in fourquare outside on the blacktop with the neighbor kids. You don’t ever think “I should spend extra time with my mom or my grandma (in my case, great aunt) because they will not always be here.” As you grow, you notice the people around you aging, as well. You begin to realize the importance of quality time and conversation with your loved ones. You take the extra time to do things for people when they can longer do things for themselves.. this is all an introduction to the story of my great aunt, Madeline.

Aunt Madeline, whom my sister and I grew up calling “Mammaw” was the most selfless woman I’ve ever met. I mostly carry memories of her helping out when money was a bit tight- and by that I mean, making sure Kelly (my sister) and I had things like our first bikes and new school clothes each year. Kelly and I grew up knowing we couldn’t always ask for every little thing we wanted because we knew we weren’t “rich” by any means. We knew how to live without things other kids had & we were okay with that.

My mom, sister and I would go pick Mammaw up at her house and go out to eat at Double Dragon, her favorite Chinese restaurant (which has since closed) she would order wonton soup and we would usually split an entree or two. My mom and Mammaw would always joke about their abnormally large spoons. We would go to Easton and spend entire afternoons that turned to evenings. Kelly and I could simply be looking at a piece of clothing or accessory and Mammaw would sneak up behind us and say “do you want that? Give it here, I’ll get it for you.” Kelly and I would hesitate or lie and say “no that’s okay, I don’t need it.” .....well, you guessed it, Mammaw would buy it anyway. *Blast to the past* Kelly and I were looking at game cubes, Mammaw bought it for us. Kelly and I were admiring the brand new, super slim iPod nanos... Mammaw bought us each one. We would only accept these gifts because we knew how much it meant to her to be involved in our lives and make us feel special. Sometimes my mom would say “you’re going to spoil those girls rotten.”

Aunt Madeline was our constant. She was at the hospital when Kelly and I were each born. She was there for EVERY SINGLE adolescent birthday party, she wouldn’t miss these events for the world. She taught Kelly and I how to skip rocks at Ye Old Mill after we had our bellies full of ice cream. When I think of my childhood- I think of memories with her.

I remember one late night, Mammaw called my mom saying Uncle Carl (Madeline’s husband) was very sick and needed to go to the emergency room. My mom loaded Kelly and I into the car in the middle of the night and rushed over. Mammaw knew we had already been in bed and that we both had school the next day so she immediately took us upstairs into the guest bedroom, which was absolutely freezing because Uncle Carl didn’t like paying high electric/gas bills. Mammaw layered us with probably 14 blankets and still left a stack at the end of the bed in case we needed more. She was so caring, her mission was to make sure everyone else was taken care of before herself. Holidays would roll around and she would slave all day in the kitchen, making sure her homemade biscuits were perfect along with everything else, of course. She would make each and every person a plate before preparing herself one, make sure everyone had something to drink, refills, dessert, you name it. We would have to insist “Mammaw will you sit down and eat your dinner before everything gets cold?!” She would eventually take a seat and most times, everyone else was already finished with their dinner. Last thing on this subject, that little woman could EAT. She would always eat 2 or 3 plates of food long after everyone left the table and neve gain a pound. We always called her a little bottomless pit.

As Kelly and I grew older and became busy with our own lives, Mammaw was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. We got a call that she was driving by herself and hit a tree- shewas okay, but she was getting older and more confused, so they suspended her license. Visits with Mammaw became few and far between, as much as I hate to admit. Confusion continued setting in as Mammaw began finding her own items throughout the house and accusing Uncle Carl of cheating. Her mind began slipping fast. Eventually, Uncle Carl became too old and tired to take care of himself and a wife with declining cognitive status. Mammaw was admitted into a rest home “specializing” in Alzheimer’s disease. The facility did not offer physical/occupational/speech therapy which this diagnosis desperately calls for. My mom, Kelly and I had no say in the location due to legal reasons. The decision was made by her biological daughter, Linda. Once in this facility, Mammaw declined even more rapidly than I could ever imagine and visits were even more scarce. The staff had stolen all of her personal belongings including her glassses. She was stuck in there, confused, wondering where her family is, unable to see...it was absolutely heartbreaking. Looking back, that is the reason it was so hard to visit her in there, in that way.

I remember getting her out of the facility for holidays at our house, Thanksgiving and Christmas (which was also her birthday, 12-25-1924) She would just light up with pure gratitude and happiness. Unfortunately, this privilege was taken from us by her biological daughter for reasons I will never, ever understand. Legally, we were not able to take her out of the facility anymore. It seemed, her daughter could not handle the closeness of my mom, sister and I with Madeline. We were heartbroken to say the least. All we ever wanted to do was make her feel at home with loved ones again after living in a facility with strangers as her disease took over her mind; if only for a little while during the holidays.

Years slipped away as life become busier for everyone. I moved away to live at college, making it even more difficult to make the trip for a visit with her.

An extremely vivid and realistic dream one night about her made me drop everything and drive to the place she was staying. I had not seen her in a few years, therefore I did not know what to expect with her condition. I made a stop at double dragon to pick up her favorite wonton soup. I walked in, looking for her room and ran into a man whose wife also lives there, who he visits every single day. He pointed me in the right direction and asked “do you come in often? Are you familiar with feeding her?” I responded, with shame “no, I have not seen her in a while. I am a full time college student” He took me to her and when I found her with no glasses, no hearing aids, sitting in a large, reclinable wheelchair (which I later discovered she slept in every night and was never transferred in/out of a real bed) I cried. I sobbed. I didn’t know how to process this. I also discovered she was no longer able to feed herself. I was a nervous, guilty 19 year old who was in school to be a physical therapist assistant, but had 0 experience thus far as I was completing my general courses at this time.

I sat next to her at a dining table and spoke slowly and loudly so she could understand me. I knew she recognized my face, voice, and loving gestures, but could not remember my name. I explained to her that I am Robin’s daughter and showed her some pictures on my phone. I fed her wonton soup and wiped her face. I could tell she was so grateful to eat her one of her favorite foods. I told her stories and reminded her the names of family members. I asked if she remember her beautiful home that she and Uncle Carl built. After hours of spending time with her, I had to go. I was saying my goodbyes to her and she grabbed my hands and said “do you have to leave.” I ended up staying late into the evening although I had class the next morning. I assured her I would come back and visit soon and kissed her cheek and told her how much I love her.

Uncle Carl passed away of natural causes in the time that had gone by.

The family decided it would be best not to tell her with her worsening mind state.

I returned another time with my sister, Kelly and printed pictures to jog her memory. Her face absolutely lit up when showing her pictures of her house, Uncle Carl, my mom, her sisters, Kelly and I when we were little and herself, in her younger years. I rubbed her shoulders and we cherished every moment. We had to keep reminding her our names, and telling stories about how she was involved in our childhood. I wish I could have somehow taken her smile with me. Kelly and I both cried on the way home, realizing her time left her is limited and her memory is next to nothing. What can you do? It’s like watching a train wreck, you want to help so badly but you just can’t. Her mental and physical state was not good at all at this point.

Mom and I went to visit two more times. We helped feed her dinner, which she was attempting to eat puréed food with her hands - no help from the nursing staff. It was heartbreaking. Now, an established PTA, I quickly realized her legs muscles had developed bilateral contracture (inability to extend knee joints due to prolonged inactivity and loss of range of motion/extensibility) basically, her legs were stuck in a bent position from sleeping in her wheelchair and never having the opportunity to participate in physical therapy which she so desperately needed. My anger grew more than anything that she was in this place where her belongings were stolen, aides were too lazy to transfer patients in/out of bed and/or did not have the proper training to do so. I wanted so badly to intervene because I know all too well that sitting in a chair constantly without being moved or transferred leads to further medical complications and issues like pneumonia. There was nothing I could do, legally, other than gently stretch the muscles in her legs.

The last time my mom and I visited her, deep down we knew it was the last time. She was sick, she was in pain, lonely, nearly blind... she was tired of fighting. She had a deep, intense cough from her lungs. We took her outside in the warmth to let the sunshine hit her face. We put a flower in her hair and told her how beautiful she looked. And she did, she would cover her mouth with her hand when she laughed because she was embarrassed she didn’t have her dentures in, but I still thought she was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

November 2nd, 2018 my mom called me, distraught and asked if I could come over. In the pit of my stomach, I had a feeling I knew what she was going to say next. “Mammaw Madeline passed away”

My Mammaw Madeline, my constant in life, my feisty little thing that would feed me until my belly hurt. I didn’t know how to deal with the loss of that little woman, and I still don’t.

May God rest her beautiful soul. May all of her pain be gone, and her memories of the wonderful life she led, be restored. May she know how much she was loved. May she know what an impact she had on my life and the lives of others.

- Sarah

[shaevira]

Y’all like domestic Freezerburn AU oneshots?? Well, CATCH! tosses a freezerburn au in ur face 

haha later nerds

Au prompt: FB introducing their new baby to their mom's?

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out a sigh in disbelief. She had believed Yang when she said her mother was a leader and a go-getter. It’s just that what Weiss couldn’t believe was that her mother was some sort of gang leader.

Yang had failed to mention this when they had rolled up into a high-end hotel with a lot of security and narrowed eyes all following them. Whatever business they operated inside of this hotel was none of Weiss’s concern. What was Weiss’s concern is that how could Yang insist on bringing their son, Huli Schnee-Xiao Long to a place infested with mobsters. All of which were carrying some sort of concealed weapon which weren’t very concealed.

Yang carried Huli proudly, in a sling that was attached to her back. She stood up tall and unwavering as all eyes were on them as they approached an elevator to take them to the top floor penthouse. They were followed by four guards who were just ‘escorting them in’.

Weiss grabbed onto Yang for some comfort, she would most likely yell at Yang later but right now her composure was all she had. Yang on the other hand, looked down at her at the gesture and offered a big goofy grin.

“You dumb adorable brute…” Weiss muttered with nothing but love and adoration in her words. It didn’t matter what situation they were in, Yang had always managed to find a smile. Something that completely melted Weiss every time.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out, as did the guards behind them. The penthouse was probably bigger than their house as they had immediately entered it as soon as they stepped out of the elevator.

It didn’t take long for Yang’s mom to appear in a very crimson looking suit, looking very suave. Weiss always forgot that she got her looks from her mother, and every time she saw Raven - it was like looking at Yang if she were thirty years older and with raven colored hair.

“I heard you were coming.” Raven began with crossing your arms “But I didn’t think I’d get to see my favorite daughter so soon.” she eyed Weiss and smirked.

Yang rolled her eyes “She’s your daughter in law.” Yang shook her head already done with her mother’s shenanigans.

Raven laughed, “All right then, straight to business is it? Then what is it that you wanted me to see so badly.”

Yang and Weiss smirked.  Weiss walked behind Yang and grabbed Huli. The mobsters had tightly clutched their weapons as they were actually unable to see what was inside of the sling. Raven merely raised an eyebrow.

Weiss proudly presented a very sleepy looking Huli. Tufts of white hair protruded out of his beanie, bright lavender eyes fought to stay awake. He babbled and stuck his face into Weiss’s shoulder, nuzzling in it.

“Leave us.” Raven immediately shooed her guards. Not wanting them to see her react. The guards quickly left the floor exiting the same way they came in.

As soon as they left Weiss, Yang and Raven stood in a momentary silence.

“This is Huli Schnee-Xiao Long. Your grandson.” Yang finally spoke, gesturing towards him. Raven stunned face told them everything. “Amazing what modern science and medicine can do these days, huh? He’s our biological son.” Yang proudly grinned.

“He’s a little over a year old. We weren’t sure when we wanted to introduce him to everyone, but we decided on you first.” Weiss commented, lightly rubbing her son’s back.

Once more, Raven was silenced in shock. She slowly approached Weiss, her hands outreaching. Weiss looked at Yang who nodded and so Weiss handed him over.

Raven, immediately began to lightly bounce up and down. “Hey there little guy...I’m your grandmother.” her tone was soft and sweet. Raven turned a full circle with him in her arms. She spoke lightly and whispered secrets into his ears.

This was a rare treat to both Yang and Weiss. Raven isn’t what you would call sweet or caring at the slightest.

Raven now looked up at them both, tears swelling in her eyes. “Promise me that you will give him the love that I could never give.” Raven immediately admitted.

Yang and Weiss were taken aback by the words. “We will mom. I promise.” Yang held out her hands, to which Raven handed Huli back over.

“I know we weren’t...or well, aren’t, on the best of terms but feel free to stop by any time. I know what I do isn’t safe, but I’m always here for you.” Raven wiped away a single tear from her face.

Weiss and Yang smiled, Raven always meant well. It’s just her ways of showing how she cared weren’t really the best of ways at all. Throughout the recent years, the relationship of the three of them had slowly been rebuilding, they all hoped that this would make it stronger.

“You can stay the night if you’d like. I can offer you a safe room, guards, and whatever else you need.” Raven finally offered.

Weiss and Yang paused momentarily, looked at each other and smiled. “Yeah, I’d think we’d like that.” Weiss answered.

Raven’s eyes lit up in surprise, as she managed to show a genuine smile.

///

“Your mom said she would meet us here?” Yang curiously asked as she held Huli, making silly faces at him as she spoke to Weiss.

Weiss nodded, looking at her phone. They were a little early, but they were at a park. A place where Weiss and her mother had often come to get away from it all. Weiss hoped that her mother could get here alright, due to...various reasons.

A white SUV pulled up in the nearby parking lot as Weiss and Yang took seats at a table underneath a rather large tree. Weiss had brought along a cooler with food and beverages and had begun to set up the table with a cloth.

“Oh, Weiss!” Yang got her attention, as she pointed towards not one, but two people heading towards them.

Weiss turned her head and paused. “Mom...Winter?!” she blinked in awe. Not expecting to see her sister pushing her mother’s wheelchair. She expected a nurse, but Winter?

“So, you wanted to tell us somethin-” Winter paused eying what Yang was holding. “Is that…?”

Yang turned Huli around in her lap, so he would now face the group. “Ta-da!” she raised his hands and he giggled, as she bounced her leg up and down so he would too. “This is Huli. Our son.” Yang made him do a little jig, as he continuously giggled at the actions.

“Oh my!” Willow gasped, she ushered Winter to push her forward. Yang stood up and brought Huli towards them. “He’s lovely.” she held out her hands, and awaited patiently. Weiss grinned widely, her mom had always been supportive. She didn’t blame her for the rough patches, as now everything was as it should be.

Yang handed Huli over to Willow where she made a numerous amount of cooing noises and baby talk. Yang chuckled. She behaved exactly as Weiss does, only Weiss does it when she thinks they’re alone.

Winter cautiously approached Huli and Willow. “To think, you two would…” Winter began, her voice sounding a little disdainful. She then let out a hefty sigh. “I’m happy for you two. I know mother is too. At least one of her children has a grandchild.” Winter commented.

“If only Winter could find someone as wonderful as you, Ms. Xiao Long! She would be popping out grandchildren in no time!” Willow happily commented.

“MOTHER. You’re getting a little senile.” Winter snidely commented in embarrassment. Yang and Weiss chuckled at the expense of Winter who shook her head. “She insisted that I come along. Saying you two had good news. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.” Winter crossed her arms, and looked away from the group.

“You wouldn’t be here, not even for this face?” Willow turned Huli towards Winter.

Winter stared into his bright yet deep lavender eyes. He smiled at her, and even reached for her as she look a little bit like Weiss. Winter could feel herself losing a battle.

“You’re just soooo darn cute!” Winter picked him up, and snuggled him. Finally losing said battle. Huli giggled as Winter coddled him.

Everyone chuckled. “Us Schnee women have always been weak to cute things. Believe it or not, we’re a lot more caring than we give off.” Willow shook a finger at the air. “We’re just not very good at showing it at first.”

Weiss nodded as did Yang. “I didn’t think Weiss could be more chipper than me, but I was surprised.” Yang said, “It makes her a lot cuter.” Yang grinned widely at Weiss.

Weiss glared, if there was one thing the Schnee women couldn’t handle. It was this. This sickeningly sweet flirtatious attitude that actual made them weaker. Weiss was a lucky girl.

“So, are you guys going to stay for lunch?” Yang asked curiously now putting out the food.

“Only if I get to feed him.” Winter immediately interjected. Weiss tried hiding a snort.

“Of course, sis.”

“I can’t believe I’m an aunt…” Winter muttered still playing with Huli.

“I can’t believe you still don’t have children.” Willow cackled.

“MOM.”

Yang, Weiss, and Willow loudly laughed as the family began to eat lunch.

Needless to say, this had been just about the perfect introduction for their families, and more importantly to their mothers. To which, the two of them had just started a long and interesting journey. Motherhood. Something that neither of them had a good start to, but a good ending.

Hopefully, for Huli’s sake, a good beginning, middle and ending would be all he knew.

#Freezerburn #Weiss Schnee #Yang Xiao Long #Ao3 #Domestic AU #MEET THE PARENTS YALL

[arplis]

Arplis - News: As we’ve seen on this site, vulnerable communication is the solution for finding a healthy relationship and happy life

At a glance, most treat vulnerability as if it is something every person can do. Many believe that if the person sets their mind to it, they can get their needs met in a healthy manner. Unfortunately, this is only the case for secure individuals. Secure individuals are capable of expressing themselves and regulating their emotions because they believe they are worthy of love and affection. They expect their partners to be responsive and caring. It’s easy to see that having such beliefs can lead on to not become overwhelmed as easily. Secure individuals have no issue communicating their needs to their significant other. The problem is that insecure people -my previous self included- struggle to get in touch with what is really bothering them. Once the emotional floodgates open, it’s easy to become overwhelmed. These can create irrational thoughts, which can end in a person lashing out. Meet Tyler. Tyler works at an aerospace company and is currently dating Terra. Like any other average anxious attachment type, Tyler is madly in love with Terra. Terra, who is an avoidant loves Tyler as well -but she calls him crazy for his weird behavior. Sometimes when Tyler gets off work he shows up at Terra’s apartment – not to surprise her, but to check on her. To make sure she isn’t cheating. Like most anxious people, Tyler perceives his relationship with Terra as fragile. He’s obsessed with making sure it works. Moments later he asks his boss if he can leave. He tells his boss his girlfriend is ‘sick,’ and needed to go to the hospital. These thoughts are just illusions, but the more he thinks about them, the more anxiety builds up. The more real they feel. The thoughts of what she might be doing is like being punched in the face over and over. She’s cheating. Uppercut. Maybe she’s telling someone else she loves him. Left hook. She’s probably laughing at how stupid he is while she’s been sleeping behind his back all this time. One-two combo. This fear and anxiety is a product of his childhood relationship with his mother. Flash back to fifteen years ago. Tyler’s mom, Susan, was inconsistently responsive to Tyler. Sometimes when he cried and needed attention his mother was there. Other times, she would just ignore him because she had her own agenda that she needed to tend to. As a result, this formed Tyler’s emotional blueprint of how relationships are supposed to be. This blueprint guides behavior and suggests what and how things should be done. When Tyler didn’t get his needs met through asking in a healthy way, he started to feel emotionally neglected. He felt a low sense of control over the love and affection he wanted to receive. As these feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty were building up immense emotional pressure, the anxiety swirled throughout his little body. It was so overwhelming that Tyler had to do something. So he packed up his kindergarten backpack with his favorite Batman underwear, a pair of Nike socks and his GI Joe Commander Duke. He walked into his mom’s room with tears streaming down his face and told her he was running away. “Okay,” she said. “Have fun living on your own.” Tyler couldn’t believe it. His mother didn’t give two shits about him. He was worth nothing to her. He felt sick. Alone. The world was heartless. His solo life began when he walked out of the front door. The pressure to fend for himself crushed him. He walked three blocks and then climbed up his favorite tree to cry his heart out. It’s easy to tell from this life experience why Tyler became anxious and fearful about finding security. This experience hardened the belief that his relationships were fragile, and that any normal level of communication was not enough to gain the reassurance of love Tyler needed. Experiences like these lead an individual to perceiving themselves as having low-worth. As a result they have low social self-confidence, they lack assertiveness, and they believe they have little control over their life. When emotions are tense, intellect becomes nonsense. Flash back to today. Tyler shows up at Terra’s apartment. He is screaming at her to come out. He is calling her names, and the neighbors are beginning to notice. Terra comes outside and tells him to leave. He threatens to leave her in response, even though he’s only saying it in a desperate hope of gaining reassurance from her. Tyler has entered into a Vicious Anxious cycle. Unfortunately Tyler’s way of expressing his needs by threatening to leave has pushed his partner away. Understandably, his crazy behavior causes Terra to withdraw. “LEAVE, TYLER!” As a result, Tyler’s emotions build up even more. Just like they did with his mother in kindergarten. Such behavior doesn’t always end in a breakup. This batshit crazy behavior may cause two reactions out of Terra. She may call it off with Tyler. She’s had enough of his shit. If she does end the relationship, Tyler is left wondering if she was cheating, or if she left him for being too clingy, or if she felt they just weren’t right for each other. If Terra does respond or give in to reassuring him, Tyler will never know if she is just responding to the batshit crazy behavior, or if she actually loves him. This makes it even harder and more confusing for Tyler. Any anxious person talking this path will never figure out if their significant other is answering their real concern – whether s/he cares enough to listen to your worries, reassure you, and make you feel safe and loved. If you’re an anxious person, you probably crave a way to get out of feeling all of this inadequacy, shame and anxiety. I know I did. The way to get out of this toxic relationship is to use vulnerable communication. Let’s change the introduction to the story. Let’s Imagine that Tyler texts Terra and speaks honestly about his feelings. Hey. I feel insecure and unloved, and I could really use some reassurance. Tyler reassures her that this feeling has nothing to do with her, but rather how he has been conditioned to perceive relationships. How do you think Terra would respond in this case? Most likely, Tyler’s vulnerable communication would encourage Terra to help meet his needs. He isn’t attacking her. He isn’t threatening her. He is just telling her how he feels, and asking for reassurance. Despite most people finding this a needy characteristic, such emotional mastery is actually a massive turn-on. It shows maturity and courage. Terra will most likely respond kindly and give Tyler the reassurance he needs. It may not be right away since it’s through texting, but once she does respond she will comfort him and be there. That’s all Tyler needed. Action Steps: Despite the biological fear of getting hurt, take a leap of faith when your emotions build up. Avoid using batshit crazy behavior. Instead, use vulnerable communication. Step 1: Before you act, ask yourself this question: Would Kyle Benson tell you it’s bashit crazy behavior? – texting excessively, threatening or trying to make your partner jealous all count. Step 2: Communicate your anxious feelings to your partner in a non-accusatory, vulnerable way. Avoidants I wouldn’t want to avoid the avoidants, now would I…? Avoidant attachment-style individuals tend to be unaware of their need for distance and space. As an avoidant, you crave a need for space, a need to run away, yet you don’t understand why. Terra, who is still dating Tyler, just got fired from her job. Tyler, who is an anxious attachment person, immediately overwhelmed her with new job opportunities and connections. Despite knowing that Tyler is doing this out of love, she feels a need to escape, a need to breathe. She’s actually associating this craving for space as a signal that she just isn’t that attracted to Tyler. There’s no point in talking about this to Tyler, because it feels so obvious that he is not The One. So Terra ends it. This is her 9th failed relationship. Most avoidants that have attachment issues with intimacy actually lump them in a toxic cycle of failed relationships. The way to get out of this toxic, fulfilling cycle is to use vulnerable communication. Step 1: Recognize the need for physical or emotional space. Step 2: Communicate that need to your partner. If you can, do so early in the relationship before the feeling happens. Doing so not only sets healthy expectations and respects each other’s needs and boundaries but also lets your partner know that your need for space has nothing to do with them. In turn, this will also calm their attachment style. If your partner is not responsive within a reasonable time, dump them and go find someone who will. You deserve to be loved and have a healthy relationship where you get your needs met. Not to mention asserting yourself vulnerably actually builds self-esteem and self-confidence, and provides one a greater sense of control. Isn’t that how you want to feel about yourself and your relationships? — A version of this post was previously published on KyleBenson and is republished here with permission from the author. — ◊♦◊ Talk to you soon. If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project and want to join our calls on a regular basis, please join us as a Premium Member, today. All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS. Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here. — Photo credit: istockphoto The post Why Insecure People Struggle with Vulnerability appeared first on The Good Men Project. #FeaturedContent #Sex&Relationships

Arplis - News source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Arplis-News/~3/R1-aqdNwSNc/as-we-ve-seen-on-this-site-vulnerable-communication-is-the-solution-for-finding-a-healthy-relationship-and-happy-life

[fictionalfilm-unit10]

Horror Genre

In this blog, I will discuss two horror movies I have watched and I shall compare what makes these two films similar or different and analyse how they fit their genre.

Happy death day is a full length film made for the direct release to Netflix.  This is a closed, single stranded and realist narrative, as it was set in a school, in which the events play in a non-linear order.  This film follows the standard 5 stages of plot all which are easily identifiable and follow the expectations of the audience.(Build up: Tree celebrated her birthday by being horrible to everyone she knows, Problem: Tree gets killed and repeats her day, Events: Tree tries to figure out who the killer is while repeating her day,. Resolution: Tree find out her roommate is the killer, Ending: Tree is able to live the rest of her life.).

We can see from the beginning of the film that it follows the generic plot that matches the codes an conventions of the horror genre where an equilibrium and normal setting is established.

However, what was different from a usual horror film that you would see is that Happy death day is set at a university that is crowded with people. Furthermore, bright lighting was used to convey the established setting to be quite lively which subverts the genre as this opening wouldn’t give the audience the first impression of it being a horror film.

It is only when the problem (The hero, Tree, getting murdered and travelling back in time.) is shown that the audience would notice there is something terribly wrong and the equilibrium has been broken. Since the problem was quite unexpected, this would have created shock and fear to the audience which matches the purpose of a horror film.

As the events play out, the signs of the film being horrific become gradually more and more obvious creating a rising tension. One way this was done was through the change in camera shots, movement and angles for example, in the beginning the scenes mainly consist of wide shots and two shots whereas in the middle and end we notice the camera movements are shakier and distorted to represent an increase of drama and tension through each event as well as more close ups and mid shots appearing to emphasize the panic and fear in the characters. We notice the proportion of sound also changes where in the beginning  mostly diegetic noises of people talking are heard in the background to show a calm and normal setting on the other hand, gradually, as the more times Tree is killed in the movie, the amount of non- diegetic sounds like screechy music increases for the specific intention of making the audience feel less comfortable as the events go on.

In addition other plot devices were also used to convey the horror genre such as a constant use of red herrings (birthday card, doctor’s mask) to keep on building tension as well as an unexpected plot twist to add to the shock where it is revealed that Tree’s roommate was killing her all this time.

Barthes codes are also applied to the way we see the main character trying to find a resolution. In the case of Tree being unable to figure out the killer despite the hints and clues given, this applies to the hermeneutic /enigma code because of Tree’s inability to find a clear answer(Mcguffin) in the plot. This was done to make the audience relate to Tree’s fear, frustration and desire to know more hence Barthes code is thoroughly applied in Happy Death Day’s plot.

From this, we can say that the techniques and plot used for happy death day mostly meet the codes and conventions of a horror film because it follows the plot structure in which the film gets more tense as time goes on. In contrast there are a few things in Happy death day that subvert the genre for example, the use of jokes and intertextuality (mentioning of Subway and Groundhog day) distracts us from the horror elements of the film and veers us away to a bit of comedy which makes the film slightly anti-climatic.

Overall, Happy death day partially fits the horror genre from its plot but its subversion to the comedy genre does not completely give the audience the fear and impression they expect from an actual horror film.

Another horror film we will look at is Don’t Knock Twice. Like Happy Death Day, this film was also created for a release to Netflix. It’s narrative is also closed, realist and single stranded but unlike happy death day, the plot is linear. This film does follow the 5 stages of plot (Build up: Mother trying to take back Chloe from the orphanage. Problem: Chloe knocks on a cursed door twice. Events: Danny and Chloe get kidnapped by a demon.Resolution: Mother finds out detective was behind the curse. Mother rescues Chloe Ending:Plot Twist- Mother’s friend was the demon and killed the detective. ) Also, it follows Propp’s theory where each role of the character is clear (Hero:Chloe Villain: The demon, Helper: The mother, Donor: The mother’s friend, Dispatcher: Danny, Princess: The old woman, Princess’ father: The social workers, False Hero: The detective.)

What makes this film fit to the horror genre is the effective use of iconography used throughout the entire plot especially in the introduction where religious symbols are used to give the audience the instant impression that it is a horror movie by using this religious iconography to produce several interpretations of what the film is about.

When the first scene is established, the audience immediately gets an impression that the film is heavily influenced by religious symbolism as we are introduced to the mother in an empty church filled with strange statues accompanied with a lack of diegetic sound and dim lighting. This setting completely fits the codes of the horror genre as we would always expect any horror film to be set in an isolated place and their use of mise-en-scene effectively makes the audience feel disturbed.

The same techniques are used when the problem comes up, where the hero of the film, Chloe knocks twice on a door that also contains satanic iconography which is intentionally used to give the audience the interpretation that things will get more intense later. Unlike in Happy Death Day, Don’t knock twice primarily focuses on the mise-en-scene to give the audience the intended sense of danger and fear exactly how any horror movie would do to affect the audience.

Throughout the events, the lighting is kept consistent all the way through where they have purposefully mad the scenes so dark that only the subject is scene in order to emphasize the sense of danger to the audience. Furthermore, they have used unique camera movements such as the scene where the camera rotates and swiftly flies through corridor and to a close up of Danny's face to portray something coming to watch him. What makes the suspense in this film unique to other films is that suspense is created through the constant repetition of the diegetic sound of knocking twice to indicate the villain being present in that scene. This effective use of techniques successfully creates fear and horror to the audience throughout the entire film however the lack of change in its techniques make the events expected and therefore gradually gets more boring unlike happy death day which gets worse overtime.

In terms of Barthes’ theory, this plot applies to two of his codes: The Semantic and Symbolic code. Both of these codes refer to the the film’s use of iconography. The semantic code suggests that the use of religious symbols are intentionally used to encourage the audience to produce interpretations of the symbolism to uncover more meanings of why it was used such as the use of a symbol of a goat on the door would reveal an additional meaning that the door is cursed or satanic. The symbolic code further builds on the theory of the semantic code by suggesting the purpose of the film’s symbolism are to create greater meaning, tension, drama and character/ setting development.

On the whole, both movies fit the horror genre well in terms of its codes and conventions but in two completely different ways. On the one hand, Happy death day uses a range of of different techniques to convey a gradual increase of tension however its subverted genre with comedic elements does not give the audience the desired reaction they would expect in a real horror film. On the other hand, Don’t knock twice uses mise-en-scene and iconography to maintain a sense of fear and danger to the audience but the use of repeated camera techniques and lighting makes the film unsurprising and similar to other horror films.

[exploring-anne]

Anne - S1 - Episode 1

“Your will shall decide your destiny”

An exploration of the first episode of Anne the Series (aka ‘Anne with an E’). This episode is such a wonderful introduction to the characters and setting of the re-imagined Anne of Green Gables. Unique in tone and rich in nuance. It provides so many layers for fans to discuss! Click the ‘Read More’ link to head into spoiler territory...

Visual Storytelling

When discovering the world of Anne the Series, one thing I love is how much subtext is going on visually within each scene.  This is quite purposeful, as expressed by the showrunner, Moira Walley-Beckett.  She notes that she’s always asking herself - ‘What’s the first image? What’s the first image of any scene?’

You can see that in our introductions to each of the principle characters. Through visuals, music and body-language, there’s a lot we’re learning about them, even before they speak a word. To illustrate...

Anne Shirley (Amybeth McNulty)

In the first scene where Anne is presented, we the viewer are looking out of a train window.  As some pretty nature scenery rushes by, a reflection starts to flicker in the glass - and we get a pretty, ghostly image of Anne herself.  With Amybeth McNulty looking thoughtful, lovely and otherwordly.

In essence, we as an audience are seeing Anne’s reflection through our vantage point.  Symbolizing that we’re watching the scene through her eyes, and that we’re in her head.

Note also how her reflection is super-imposed over a set of trees - a recurring theme throughout the show, where Anne’s personality and image is inherently intertwined with the natural world.

The music in the background is sweet, hopeful, adventurous and melodic. But as Anne hears a baby start crying, the notes of the melody start to fracture and become discordant.  And as Anne starts showing increasing hints of anxiety, we’re plunged into the dark tones of an unsettling flashback.

That clever use of music serves as a nice metaphor for this version of Anne’s character - i.e., she’s a charming, optimistic melody... but if you listen carefully enough, you’ll hear her fractured, broken notes.

Marilla Cuthbert (Geraldine James)

In our first glance at Marilla, we see her hands meticulously setting a table. The way she places each object is careful, orderly and precise.

And when the camera shows Marilla herself, she also smooths out her dress. There’s hints at an almost neurotic perfectionism in her body language and her actions. Everything has its place and everything needs to be arranged in a certain fashion, and for Marilla that provides a sense of comfort. A sense of order is important to Marilla, as hinted at in these scenes.

We as an audience know that Anne’s introduction is going to be a big shakeup to the clockwork nature of Marilla’s world.  So this first glimpse at her gives us some sympathy into the fact that she’s not used to anything and anyone that is outside of a usual routine.  And its not something she’ll be able to adapt to instantaneously.

Matthew Cuthbert (RH Thomson)

In our first glance at Matthew (ignoring the opening scene which is technically a ‘flash-forward’), we see him sitting in a doorway, polishing a boot.

An important clever detail is that while he’s wearing a nice outfit, he’s still wearing one Workman’s boot, while doing so.  And that boot is a clever parallel of who Matthew is at his core - weather-worn, covered in dirt, showing some age, and accustomed to labor.

While Marilla is going into a long almost anxious monologue about their choice to adopt an orphan, Matthew is quietly and efficiently focusing on his boot.  Finding solace in down-to-Earth tasks.

But just because he’s not speaking doesn’t mean he’s not listening.  There’s that old analogy of ‘still waters run deep’.  And you can see emotions flickering into play behind his quiet eyes.

The core three characters...

As noted above, there’s a lot of care taken in the characterization of Anne, Marilla and Matthew.  Even though the show is named ‘Anne’, the producers, (Moira and Miranda) note that this is really a show about this trio of people... 'Anne is about the lives of these three people and how they impact each other.  And how they grow, and how they blossom.'

The lovely thing about the show is that it’s not just Anne who’s an outsider - in their own ways, each of the three core characters are awkward misfits, with frailties and challenges - and you sense that they can help one another grow beyond who they currently are.  For example...

Marilla is someone who feels things deeply, but hides those emotions expertly.  She’s protective of her inner-thoughts, and non-demonstrative in her feelings - but there’s a depth of care beneath her emotional armor.

Contrast that with Anne, who also feels things deeply but expresses them readily and doesn’t know how to self edit.  Each of them start at different ends of the spectrum, and have the potential to provide one another with some balance.

Matthew is someone who is not just quiet, but comes across as painfully and pathologically shy.  Gentle and sympathetic but unable to express those sentiments via his words.  Contrasted with Anne who can’t help but nervously chat about all the things that capture her imagination.

The lovely thing for Matthew is I suspect that when most people talk to him, his quiet nature leads to awkward silence, which leads to him feeling even more out of place and self conscious.

But with Anne, she just happily chats at him, rapid-fire, without judging or without expecting him to hold up his end of the conversation.  Her innocent banter starts to feel natural and he ‘doesn’t mind the conversation’.

Between the two of them, they can also learn from one another - when to be quiet if the moment requires it, and when to speak up for the things you love.

I could happily go into more detail as there’s a lot of great food for thought with this charming found family unit.  But I love the sense that Anne is a jigsaw puzzle piece that will let all three of them feel a bit more whole.  All three are slightly broken people who can be potentially mended through their care for one another.  And the first episode lays a lot of poignant groundwork for three intertwined character arcs.

Interlude...

As you can probably tell, my episode explorations are going to be less about episode recaps and more about my stream of consciousness thoughts, feelings and observations.  I figure there a lot of places to get a blow-by-blow synopsis of what happened.  This is more a chance to delve into reactions and analyses.  On that note, here’s some quick gut-instinct categorizations... Hearting-Breaking Moments

The flashbacks to Anne’s mistreatment and abuse are emotionally piercing and rather heart-rending.  Filmed in cold, stark colors and full of little wistful nuances.

e.g., Anne loves trees and thinks of them as friends - so Mr Hammond whipping her atop a tree-stump (i.e, a dead tree) is a poignant symbolism.  And him suffering a heart-attack is interesting foreshadowing.  A would-be father figure succumbing to heart-troubles?  In this case the death is a blessing. In the future, a curse.

“I might have known no-one would really want me”.  Amybeth has to express sorrow and despair in several scenes in this episode, and for me it was a tear-jerker each time.  Her dawning realization that the Cuthberts wanted a boy.  The sorrow of spending a night in a place, knowing it may be your last.  The creeping horror of being judged for something you didn’t actually do.  Her acting in each scene is subtly different to adapt to the context, yet affecting each time.  This young lady is a remarkable talent <3

Comedic Moments

From Anne overthinking the proper way to pray, to her waxing poetical about puffed sleeves, it’s funny and endearing to see little glimmers where Marilla is being won over in spite of herself.  It’s an important part of Anne’s character that she has such buoyant enthusiasm and that her enthusiasm is infectious.

Rachel Lynde is a hoot throughout, with her nosy nature and talent for hyperbole.  When Anne gives her over-dramatic apology and she and Marilla share knowing glances with one another.  And when Anne carefully tip-toes away with a body language of ‘I can’t believe that worked’.  One of many cute scenes :)

The introduction of the rivalry between the Cuthbert’s hired hand, Jerry Baynard (Aymeric Jett Montaz) and Anne.  Coming from an orphanage, it makes sense that Anne would view other kids as potential competitors to would-be parents.  And the comedic chemistry between the two actors pays off in future episodes.

Heart-Warming Moments

Ack, so many moments between Anne and Matthew!  Which makes sense as he’s the first person to warm to her and to defend her.  Seeing him nervously vocalize on her behalf and refer to her as an ‘interesting little thing’ are endearing - because you can tell Matthew is way out of his comfort zone but is pushing himself forward for her sake.

And Anne reciprocates that warmth in many lovely moments.  Matthew is so unaccustomed to displays of affection and looks so surprised and appreciative when Anne extends one towards him.  e.g., the enthusiastic hug she gives him when Marilla is taking her to see Mrs Spencer.

With Marilla, her acceptance of Anne is more of a slow burn.  But you can see the frost start to thaw and can’t help but smile when she refuses to leave Anne with that dreadful Blewett lady.  There are a lot of subtle moments with Marilla where you see a warmth hiding behind her brusque armor.  A slight smile here and there, played subtly and effectively.

After years of neglect, Anne is nervous yet hopeful about actually having a friend.  Initially, she assumes she’d have to hide her true self for Diana Berry to actually like her, so its endearing to see Diana so charmed by Anne’s enthusiastic displays of imagination.

In conclusion..

Truth be told, I could ramble even more about this episode.  That’s the mark of a good show - one that sticks with you, and creeps its way into your mind, asking to be pondered upon.  So don’t hesitate to leave me a comment if you have things you want to discuss!  The Anne the Series fandom is growing and full of insightful, thoughtful commentary. I’ve enjoyed reading so many of those thoughts! Make sure to check the ‘Anne the Series’ tag here on Tumblr to find those discussions. Thanks for reading! See you in my Episode 2 exploration! <3

#Anne the Series #Anne with an E #anne of green gables #Episodes #amybeth mcnulty #moira walley-beckett #AoGG #Matthew Cuthburt #marilla cuthbert #anne shirley #RH Thomson #Characters #imagery

[otaku-twist]

Mob Psycho 100 Season 2

Hello and welcome to the first outright perfect episode of anime of 2019! Mob Psycho 100 knocked it out of the park this week in every respect, so let’s just jump right in!

Right off the bat, Bones is out in full force animation wise. Everything about this episode, visually, was fantastic. Even in drab, rain-slick scenes they found a way to introduce color to a drab landscape. And that isn’t even mentioning the wholly unique perspectives or styles for animation. Take for instance the straight up street fighter/fighting game reference. Done entirely in Mob Psycho’s style, it was a fantastic gag. Then there was one of my favorite styles, which only appears in Mob Psycho, the paint on glass effects. For depicting other worldly spirits, I think it does a fantastic job of showing that etherealness. Add on to all of this the sheer amount of sakuga throughout the episode, from Dimple jumping between trees, to the flowing sludge of the monster spirit, and you have a feast for the eyes. 2 weeks in and Bones has already won Animation. Wow.

Now, onto the actual story content of the episode. Normally we would be entering the Urban Legend arc for the series, however parts of this were already covered in the first season. For instance, the exorcism at the girls highschool and the Scarecrow from the first episode were originally part of this arc. I think the way Mob Psycho handled those was still good, the Scarecrow was a good introduction and it didn’t hurt the series at all. It just means this arc won’t be as long as you might think, probably ending next episode. That isn’t to say it won’t be worthwhile though, if this episode was anything to go by. In a single episode Mob Psycho established a new psychic, set him up as a fraud only to reveal him as an upstanding citizen combatting spirits. Walking through his character in a single 22 minute episode. Lovely.

His whole “side story”, though really Mob and Reigan are the side story here, was great. I loved how it started with nothing paranormal at all, but hinting it might be. Then revealing it to be just a streaker that could be caught without powers. Until it all culminates in a big supernatural fight with a legitimate urban legend. Each of these with some sort of commentary on society, as the Dragger is fueled by peoples belief and cannot be fought by those who fear it. ONE (the author for Mob Psycho and One Punch Man) really is a great writer. He hits on these topics close to society or personal experiences, but wraps them in a supernatural shell. Removing it just enough from reality that it doesn’t become a direct critique of modern society, but still planting those ideas in the viewers heads.

Take the streaker for example. What started as a simple ass gag in a raincoat quickly turned into a dark dive into a criminals mind. Describing the mentality of the criminals high. How he gets off not only on revealing himself, but on everyone knowing he exists. A sort of perverse celebrity status. We see this in real life all the time with mass murderers, bombers and such. Who want to be known, want their message to get spread by the news media. It was all very dark, yet because of the previous setup with the childrens park, it worked well. Yeah, it might have jumped from jokey to serious a bit quickly. But I think Mob Psycho’s humor, which permeates everything about it, softened the blow a bit.

Meanwhile Mob and Reigan are off on their “side” adventure. What I love about this is that it reinforces Reigans character. We constantly see he is a con-artist, praying on people’s idiocy or troubles. Yet we also see he does legitimately care. Giving them peace of mind, or going out of his way to clean up an old man’s dog. To Reigan no job is to dirty or undesirable to do, so long as he gets paid and someone is happy. In fact we learn from Shinra that Reigan is charging far below the standard psychic price. Most likely it’s unintentional, if he thought he could get more he would go for it. But it reinforces that Reigan is not a prideful man, just one trying to get by on the only skill he really has. His maxed out charisma stat.

As far as the Dragger scenes go, I loved them.The whole sequence was animated fantastically, showing that no one can match Bones when they are their best. So many interesting angles, rotating shots and unbroken cuts. From the closeups of her face to the flowing sludge of the second half, Bones was here in full force. I also enjoyed the subtler aspects of the scene. Such as the water slowly rising up their feet, as the trees sunk behind them. The use of mud splashing against trees and landing in the shape of a screaming face. The tiny dolls themselves and their use in the fight. Simply put, Mob Psychois probably the best animated of the season and I fully expect it to compete for best of the year.

There was also the narrative aspect of the fight that was interesting. Last week Mob decided to start caring more about his emotions and such. This week tackles his social ineptitude and how breaking yourself off from fads isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was Mob’s detachment, his individuality, that allowed him to face the dragger. He doesn’t care much what other people think, so the fads and pop culture never really took root in his mind. That of course has its downsides, it hurts his social prospects. But Mob Psycho also shows how it has its perks. Giving him the ability to think outside the box, not tied down by social conventions. To drive this home, right after this, Reigan talks to Mob about paying lip-service in the adult world. At least feigning knowledge of pop-culture, though he did it by yelling.

The slowly growing rift between Reigan and Mob aside, the last bit of the episode was the Dashing Granny. God this was a funny. This grandma gag was better animated than some full on series. All for a joke. In other series, I always reference the Simpsons and their layered jokes when discussing comedy. This is because I think the early Simpsons has some of the most clever comedic timing and writing on TV. Here, we see Mob Psycho displaying the same kind of layering. The joke starts with the running grandma. Then it becomes less of a joke and more a “serious threat” since it can’t be exorcised. Mob can’t run for shit, but the first punchline hits as she just ignores him and runs by in an over the top fashion. Only to throw in one more punchline with Mob’s Body Improvement Club. Layers. Like an onion. Fantastic.

All in all, Mob Psycho is now 2 for 2 on fantastic episodes. They have so much going for them, so many layers in every aspect. The animation is a step above everything else of the season. The narrative is deep and the jokes are snappy. Clearly a lot of love and care has been put into this series. It shows in every frame. If I had to pick something to nitpick about, it might be the sound design/VA’s, but that is really stretching it. Like, nitpick to the point of absurdity, stretching it. I like both and it’s only rarely that something sounds funny to me. So with that all said, I think it safe to safe, Mob Psycho is fantastic and you should watch it.