#I’m not gonna plaster my health issues over the wall but that life is certainly not accessible to me!

[vanhelsingapologist]

Publishing has always been a fucking nightmare, but now it’s a layer of hell. It’s not enough that writers be good at what they do. Writers have to maintain an active social media presence and cultivate a following. Be available.

They have to be conventionally attractive enough to look good enough to see on a screen, aesthetically pleasing, kind, funny, up-to-date on trends, socially aware but not so controversial that they turn off a brand from California from slapping their discount code on a video promoting a book.

They have to do all of this with no media training, with little help from the companies that are supposed to be doing this for them.

Of course, a lot of this isn't possible for say, the 40-something mother of two who teaches English at a school and writes on the side. She’s boxed out of an already complex industry that already has enough walls.

On some level, I think authors have always marketed themselves a little, but we’ve reached such a crazy point where we’re demanding the author become the influencer. Accessibility in publishing has narrowed from an inch to a sliver. And that inch was hard enough to get in as is.

#This is about traditional publishing but there’s pretty privilege and ageism in self publishing too #I can’t think of the last time I saw an up and coming author recording videos who was over thirty #And frankly that’s a shame #It could be that I’m not looking hard enough #but it’s more likely that algorithms are trained the way they are #truly I don’t think they should have to do any of that at all #And forgive me but (and I know it’s rich because I’m an artist on a platform) but art shouldn’t be at the mercy of an algorithm #Now there’s also something to be said about self publishing becoming easier and easier to achieve success in #And doors opening because of influencer status is real and makes publishing wider in a way #But that doesn’t mean it’s accessible #I’m not gonna plaster my health issues over the wall but that life is certainly not accessible to me! #are you healthy enough to write and make sure people on social media still want to like your stuff #are you mentally well enough to be your own pr #I’m sure people who have studied this have more to say and have said it better but this is what I’ve observed #writing #publishing #publishing industry

[kakashiswilloffire]

hey friend! i saw you are taking requests and would love to submit one if you're up for it!

would love something fluffy and sweet for kakashi. maybe some lazy day off shenanigans with his s/o and his ninken? bonus points if snuggling in a dog pile is involved at some point. reader can be gender neutral.

thanks and congrats on 100!

thank you so much!! i'm not really a dog person so i struggled a bit but i hope you enjoy!!

ao3

words: 2.4k

warnings: none!

It was the first day off you had both had in nearly a month. Team 7 kept Kakashi busy, if not with missions, then with training all day. On top of that, he was still in the on-call rotation all jonin were required to keep their names in, though his shifts were less frequent due to his status as a sensei. You had recently been promoted, and with that, your responsibilities were upped and you had been asked to step in for one of your colleagues who had recently run into some unexpected health issues. The time you had been able to share at home together had been limited to early mornings and late evenings, and frequently, there had been nights where the apartment you shared had remained empty entirely. Your fiancé had been counting down the days until your schedules finally overlapped, and you had exactly twenty-six hours in which you both had no obligation to the outside world.

You were awoken by the fire alarm screeching and a handful of swear words, followed by a crunching of plastic and sudden silence. Gaze flickering to the side, you noted Kakashi’s two-thirds of the bed empty and grinned, holding back a chuckle.

“Everything alright, babe?” you called out.

The reply came with an air of resignment. “Did I wake you up?”

You brought your arms over your head, feeling your joints re-align and pop lightly as you stretched.

“Not necessarily, unless you need help cleaning up?”

“No!” He replied quickly, and you heard the broom skitter across the tiles, dragging the remains of the smoke detector with it. “Go ahead and go back to sleep, I’ll come wake you later.”

Not one to deny the opportunity to rest after how late you’d gotten in last night, you snuggled back into your pillow with a small smile. It only took a moment before you were drifting off again, although not as deeply as you had been. You were dimly aware of the sound of teapot being filled, the burnt toast smell wafting through the open door, and your fiance’s graceful footsteps as he danced through the kitchen.

Wait.

Danced?

You raised your head up slightly, freeing both ears to focus on the sound of the Copy Ninja’s footsteps. His weight wasn’t distributing evenly on each step and the pattern of his footfalls was irregular. Bringing yourself to a sitting position, you suddenly realized that he was humming absentmindedly in the small kitchen.

Kakashi was not known for his stoicism, but the level of professionalism he established outside of the copy of Icha Icha attached to his palm was carefully maintained even in his downtime. When you went out together for dinner or drinks with friends, he told few jokes and mostly at Genma or Asuma’s expense. Gai’s repeated challenges to karaoke contests, both in locations with and without a karaoke machine, had always been flatly denied in favor of watching you and Kurenai choose the heartbreaker duet of the week to belt out. When you found yourself at the rare club, it only took light coaxing to bring him onto the dance floor with you, but anything more than swaying to the beat was out of the question. As long as he was having fun, you didn’t mind him not joining in the way the others teased him to do, but you had wished that he would be able to let go of his responsibilities long enough to really enjoy himself one day.

You slinked out of bed, keeping your movements as fluid as possible as you wrapped the comforter over your shoulders. As silently as you could move, you travelled into the hallway and through the living room, the smell of something acrid and burnt slowly getting stronger. You flattened yourself parallel to the wall, though not touching it to prevent the noise of the comforter dragging along, once you approached the doorway to the kitchen. He was certainly humming, and you couldn’t repress a grin, realizing he must be nearly skipping from the counter to the pantry from the way he moved. As slowly as you could, despite your excitement, you leaned around the corner to check on the man in the kitchen.

Kakashi was wearing boxers and a binder, his most comfortable outfit when secure inside your shared home. To your delight, he had chosen one of the binders without a mask attached, and you had a clear view of the slightly silly grin plastering his face as he shifted intermittently from humming to light, mumbled singing, punctuated by murmuring the ingredients he was using as he reached for them. He was stationed at the stove, stirring a medium pot and tasting from it in between verses of his song, reaching for more salt or minced garlic to adjust. He closed his eyes, bobbing his head side to side at a line he took a particular interest in, the morning sunlight catching glints of silver in his messy hair.

Taking advantage of his eyes being shut, you whipped back around the doorway into the living room, quickly tiptoeing away. You were so in love, and so happy to see him carefree, your mouth fell open in a silent scream and your hands, corners of the comforter still held in each, flew to your face.

You had to tell someone. No one would ever believe that Kakashi Hatake, master of a thousand jutsu, could be so sweet and cute behind the former ANBU exterior. Quickly, you crouched to the floor, abandoned the comforter, and made the required handsigns, pausing for a moment to remember if it was hitsuji or uma that came after saru, then gently pressed your palm against a squishy couch cushion. With a puff of smoke that evaporated almost as quickly as it was created, Pakkun sat before you.

You brought your finger up to your lips in a shushing gesture immediately. The tiny dog squinted, but nodded his agreement after a beat. This was your third or fourth time summoning him, and the first time you had done with without Kakashi. Animal summons were not your strong suit, and you had never particularly been a dog person, a fact that Pakkun had keyed in to almost instantaneously upon meeting you when you had no more than polite “my boyfriend’s pet” level interest in his paw pads. They were as soft and supple as he claimed, but you didn’t quite understand the appeal of man’s best friend.

You made the simple gestures required to convey that there was something to see and led Pakkun quietly toward the entryway to the kitchen where you could hear the rice cooker being sealed and started. Kakashi had switched to a different song and was now vocalizing the instrumentals softly, occasionally pausing to mime playing the instruments he was mimicking. Your hand found its way over your mouth, your heart melting with the gentle domesticity. Then you jerked away, feeling a soft scratch at your feet.

The pocket-sized grizzled dog glared at you until you bent down, when he pointed upwards toward a mess of hair. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized from this angle, all you could see was the shinobi’s calloused hand pushing silver strands out of his face, the black engagement band glinting dully on his finger. For the wedding in four months, you had managed to arrange custom bands for you both with the Hatake crest engraved into the matte surface. Kakashi didn’t know yet, and you knew that with how mission work was, he wouldn’t get to wear it often, but he would have a piece of his clan’s legacy with him whenever he did wear it.

The feeling of disappointment radiated off of the dog with the headband as you absorbed the fact you hadn’t considered him not being able to see over the counter. After a moment, you held out both your hands cupped together, fingertips resting on the floorboards. Pakkun regarded this, looking from your hands to your face, which you tried to humble appropriately. He sniffed at your exposed palms, then delicately stepped into your arms.

Bringing him up to your chest as you stood back up, you felt him stiffen. Had you moved him too quickly? Were you holding him too tightly? You ran two fingers down the back of his head instinctively and were surprised to find him relax. Kakashi tasted the cloudy liquid from the pot again and nodded firmly, turning toward the doorway. You whipped around, placing your back against the living room wall and clutching Pakkun tightly to your chest. You both held your breath, waiting to see if you’d been caught.

He sang to himself, “almost ready!” and you released your breath. Quickly, you snagged the blanket off the floor and made your way back to the bedroom.

“What’s the occasion?” Pakkun demanded as soon as you had the door shut behind you, jumping onto the bed.

“There is none! It’s just our first day off in a while, and he thinks I’m still asleep!”

Pakkun considered that quietly. “His pa, Sakumo, used to do the same thing. If he thought no one was around, he’d put on a whole concert for himself. Kakashi used to join him, up until his death. Then I didn’t catch him humming again till about a year after Minato’s death. Life had been rough for the poor pup up till about then. But he’s been in there all morning singing to himself?”

You nodded, pulling the gray comforter tighter around your shoulders. You knew your fiancé had been through more than most people should ever have to go through, but to think he might be making a breakthrough with his depression and trauma—to start singing again?

Pakkun made an odd noise that reminded you of a sneeze, then pawed at his eye and seemed to clear his throat. “I gotta tell the others. They’re gonna lose it.”

“Yeah, you should definitely head back and let them know the good news. I’m supposed to be asleep after all, he’ll probably come wake me up in a minute or two.”

The sly dog hesitated, then a wicked glimmer flashed across his eyes. “Or…”

Before you could react, you were engulfed a thin cloud of smoke that smelled vaguely of grass, and your bed began to creak. You jumped up, gasping at the number of variously sized dogs that had appeared in the room.

Pakkun addressed the crew before anyone could ask any questions. “Stay quiet. We’ve got a stealth mission ahead of us. Everyone, this is Kakashi’s partner, the one he’s marrying soon.” He then turned to you and pointed out the pack members in a line. “Bull, Urushi, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, and Guruko.” They were all undeniably adorable, and you’d have to ask your fiancé when he had the time to commission them all matching vests and headbands, but you were still shocked to see so many dogs. Did he really have eight summons? When most shinobi had one, if any?

“Name of the game is observe without being detected. Target: Kakashi. Location: kitchen. Standard formation. Questions?”

With no questions being posed, Pakkun lept up onto Bull’s head and led the way. You marveled in how quietly such a massive dog could move and trailed the pack as they made their way through your apartment.

You heard the timer on the rice cooker ding, then the seal breaking and relished the scent of the steam drifting through the air. There must be a stick of lemongrass in the rice this morning. You could see that Kakashi was beginning to set the table, gathering everything for a cozy breakfast for two.

He was also singing, audibly, with some degree of confidence.

One by one, the dogs all stopped and froze in awe. Akino and Uhei stepped around to the other side of you, and Shiba—or maybe it was Urushi?—popped their head between your knees to try to see. You were surrounded on all sides by the ninken, and you started to feel comforted by their warmth. Together, you all listened to your man serenade chopsticks and bowls as he spun to the small table, breaking into a mock tap routine as the china hit the wooden surface. You felt your head tilt to the right as you let the waves of love rush over you as you watched him carefully adjust the oily, burnt pan in the sink so he could wash his hands.

“Alright, love—breakfast is ready!”

For just a moment, you forgot that you were supposed to be in bed. You didn’t move as Kakashi rounded the corner, freezing when he saw nine sets of puppy-dog eyes gazing wistfully back at him from the middle of the living room, all heads tilted to the right and dreamy smiles plastered on each face.

“Ah! Uh, how long have you, uh…?”

Together, you moved as a pack toward your loved one, tackling him in a ten person hug. When you wormed your way past Uhei, you cupped Kakashi’s face and brought him in for a deep kiss, feeling butterflies in your stomach. He blushed slightly, tracing his thumb along your jawline.

“I love you, and I’m so glad that you feel safe and happy and loved with me,” you whispered fiercely, trying to beam the intensity of your emotion at him without being too aggressive.

He smiled, Sharingan deliberately taking the whole scene in as he lay on the floor with you, pulling you into his arms. Pakkun trotted over to sit on his chest while he brought you in for a firm, tight hug.

“Me too. And I’m glad you got to meet the rest of the clan.” He let the Sharingan fall shut, relaxing against you.

“Would’ve made more miso soup if I’d known everyone was coming over. Have you seen the dog bowls around anywhere?”

#fic request #kakashi can't cook #kakashi x reader #kakashi hakate #ninken #kakashi x gn!reader #gn!reader #kakashi oneshot #naruto fanfiction #domestic kakashi #pakkun