#post-transition: Menace but make it affectionate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

localplaguenurse · 4 months

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do you know what’s been stuck in my mind… the gingko being mama’s boy/girl. do you have anything like headcanons/drabbles to feed my mind🙏 ofc only if you have time for it!!!

I'm technically on a "no posting until new years break" BUT I did say that I was gonna be answering my asks like normal. Plus it's ginkgo! I can't not talk about ginkgo! I'm just gonna do short headcanons per kid because I'm writing for five of them rip-

Yánjiāng

Mama's boy through and through

However, Yánjiāng likes to show his affection for people he loves by teasing and lightly bullying them and unfortunately his mom gets it the worst (affectionate)

It's mostly because they're short compared to all their children and husband, and Yánjiāng is the tallest of the ginkgo kids.

A lot of putting things out of reach and pretending to use his mom's head as an armrest, and he gets the dumbest shit eating grin whenever they scold him.

He also does it so he can be the one to help his mom when they need something.

Wifey knows it's all in good fun so they don't actually scold him when he does it, but man when they do scold him for real, the shame is so palpable. He looks like a kicked puppy.

If anyone hurts his mom, he might not be the first to attack but he's definitely leading the other ginkgo kids and he's hitting the hardest. He gets that from his father.

Lihua

I'd say she's a daddy's girl

I think she's equally close with both parents and in different ways, but it's her father's validation she wants more

It's not that she doesn't want to impress her mom, but more that she doesn't worry about disappointing Wifey the same way she worries about disappointing Morax

When she was still a little boy I imagine the two of them would have done a lot of typically masculine activities, namely a lot of play fighting and training, but as she grew up and was figuring things out, she hung out with her mom more and enjoyed "feminine" activities

She was pretty confident he would support her transition, but was worried they weren't going to have the same bond as before she came out

Was SUPER relieved when he was not only super supportive of her coming out, but actively took interest in her new hobbies/interests

She lets him braid her hair or do her makeup

She's also a little cocky like Yánjiāng so she likes to say she's the favourite child/daughter, and she still calls him "baba"

Zhusha

She's actually closer to her mother than father

I not only imagine her looking the most like Wifey, but also acting the most like them too

She's not as rowdy as her siblings, so it's more natural that while they're roughhousing and what not, Zhusha sticks with the other family introvert

She happens to control sedimentary rocks, and you know what's in sedimentary rocks? Sand and clay

You get glass from sand and pottery from clay, so as such I think she would have naturally drifted more towards art and specifically sculpting, so that's how her and Wifey bond

I just really like the mental image I have in my head of Zhusha making the bowls and vases while Wifey paints them

In my head Wifey's always preferred drawing and painting over sculpting, but that's my own bias towards drawing

I don't get to talk about her as much as the others and I should do that more

Yaling

Absolute daddy's girl

All the ginkgo kids have pointier canines but only her and Feng have big ol fangs like baba (Feng's are bigger though, he's got CHOMPERS)

Unlike her siblings though she did NOT get his height and she WILL stay mad about that

She's still taller than mom but STILL

Loves listening to her baba's rambling, especially about geology

Literally them

Also she's the type that presents herself as very Mature and Serious, but is actually not just very silly but also an absolute menace

Whenever her older siblings would go to tell on her she'd put on the waterworks and run to Morax like "baba they're bullying me!!!"

Nothing is more infuriating than seeing the evil smirk of a four year old girl while your father scolds you for something you didn't even do

That only worked a few times when she was very little, it stops working once you're older than like six and your parents have figured it out, or when you reach the age that your siblings can dish back to you without mercy

Feng

He's a big ole mama's boy

He's a golden retriever himbo with a great big heart of gold, and because Wifey is still a "mortal" he wants to make sure they're safe and happy and all that good stuff

He and his sister also share the most resemblance with Wifey

When Feng lost his leg, Wifey was the only member of the family he could be comforted by, he didn't want to be around his siblings and couldn't handle being around Morax

Tldr: Feng had a forge and the rule was that he could only go in if Morax was there, Feng went in and ended up pouring metal on his leg which ended in him getting it amputted

He already felt awful because he felt like those were the consequences of his actions, but felt worse when Morax suggested he lose forge privileges for a while because he broke the rules

That sparked a whole argument between him and Wifey because Feng lost his leg, that's punishment enough, which also made him feel bad because he'd never seen his parents argue before and it was about him

He was too ashamed and upset to be around Morax until Wifey put them in the same room and made them talk it out

This story does have a happy ending, I promise. Feng loves his dad, they get along really well, but who knows what would have become of them if not for Wifey.

Anything my beta reader adds onto this in regards to the twins is also canon fyi, she basically yoinked them and we have joint custody

#ask #as gold as the ginkgo trees

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nightofthemeteor · 4 years

Text

Falconry/Bonsai

(Also here on AO3)

“Tobirama, can you come help me with something?”

“What?” came the disgruntled answer from down the hall.

Hashirama stuck his head out the door. “I need you to take a picture for my Instagram!”

He could hear his little brother stomping down the hallway, so Hashirama returned to his table and picked up a pair of pruning shears, considering the lighting in the room and the best angle to take a photo. A moment later, Tobirama walked into the room, saw Hashirama, and immediately turned around and walked out.

“Hey! Come back!”

“No way,” said Tobirama, without turning around. “I am not taking a picture of you in your underwear.”

“I’m not in only my underwear!” Hashirama protested. “I’m wearing a shirt!” Granted, it was the shortest shirt he owned, and it did leave a substantial strip of skin bare, but still.

“Can I ask,” Tobirama said witheringly, stopped in the doorway but without turning around, “Why you’re posing for a half-naked picture to put on your gardening blog? Don’t tell me you’re that desperate for exposure.” He was forced to turn around for this last part, because he had to raise his eyebrows at Hashirama to make sure he got the double entendre.

“Very funny, Tobirama. No, it’s not for more followers.” Although that could be a nice side effect, come to think of it. “It’s a…” Hashirama knew there was a word for this, if only he could remember – “Thirst trap!” he announced, proud of himself for getting the terminology right.

Tobirama wrinkled his nose. “Please never say that again, Anija. Do I know the person you’re posting this for?”

“Nah – I just met him yesterday! I ran into him on the subway as I was bringing home this very bonsai.” Hashirama affectionately patted the pot containing his newest leafy charge, a lovely boxwood tree rescued from the back shelves of a garden store on the other side of town. “I’m telling you, Tobirama, this tree is good luck!”

“Are you out of your mind, Anija? You gave your Instagram handle to some random stranger on the subway, and now you’re posting – ” Tobirama made a vague, sort of circular gesture to encompass Hashirama’s general state of undress “ – for him to see? I’m begging you to have just a shred of common sense.”

“No, this guy is fine, I promise! I have excellent judgement about this sort of thing.” Tobirama crossed his arms and gave him a flat look that said, Your judgement is terrible and we both know it. Hashirama sighed. “If you help me, I’ll buy you that expensive, iced coffee you like,” he wheedled.

“Two coffees,” Tobirama snapped. “And when you end up with some creepy stalker, I’m not going to help you.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hashirama shoved his phone into Tobirama’s hands before he could change his mind and struck a pose next to the boxwood, shears in hand. He’d just finished pruning the tree, in fact – this picture was to show off his handiwork with the bonsai, too. The guy on the subway - Madara, he'd said his name was - had asked about it, after all. “Is the shape of the tree still good from that angle?”

“It’s fine,” Tobirama sighed in exasperation, and then, apparently resigned to his role, added: “Maybe turn it clockwise a little.”

Hashirama complied, spending a few more seconds arranging the miniature branches. “Did you get your exam marks back yet?” he asked, to keep Tobirama occupied while he fussed with the tree.

“Just got my mark for organic chem,” his brother replied, lips pressed together in an angry pout. “One point away from perfect. I swear, that TA was just trying to find some excuse to take marks away; he was a huge asshole to me all semester, just because I pointed out his synthesis problems had more than one correct solution.”

That explained why Tobirama was even grumpier than usual. “Well, you must have done an excellent job, if this TA could only find one point to take away,” Hashirama tried, in an attempt to mollify him; Tobirama’s stony expression remained unchanged. “Plus, the year is over, so you’ll never have to deal with him again!”

That got a grudging half-smile out of Tobirama. “Yeah – at least there’s that. Are you ready, Anija? I want to get this over with.”

---

The picture was…it was…different from the majority of Hashirama’s posts. Madara had been stalking his Instagram for the past half hour – was it really stalking if the guy had given him his handle and invited him to look for updates on the bonsai he’d been carrying? Probably not, right? – Madara had been looking at his Instagram for the past half hour, and it was all innocent pictures of trees, flowers, and houseplants, meticulously cared for and clearly thriving. Occasionally, Hashirama’s smiling face appeared in the background of a photo, or his hand showed up in a close-up to showcase some clippings, but there was nothing like…that. Broad shoulders in a loosely draped shirt; smooth skin over taut muscle at his stomach; sharp hipbones leading down to –

“What are you looking at, Nii-san?”

Madara jumped, fumbled his phone, and dropped it onto his chest. “Izuna! How many times do I have to tell you to knock?”

“Oh, it was porn? Sorry,” said Izuna, sticking his face obnoxiously through the crack between Madara’s bedroom door and the wall.

“It wasn’t porn,” Madara replied reflexively, before realizing that not only was he now going to have to provide an explanation, but he sort of had been looking at porn. Almost. “It’s this guy I met yesterday,” Madara mumbled at his phone. “I'm on his Instagram.”

“You met someone?!” Izuna exclaimed in delight. Madara sighed – there was no keeping his little brother out of his business now. Sure enough, Izuna threw open his door the rest of the way and bounded over to sit next to Madara on the bed. “How did this miracle occur?”

“It was…kind of accidental.” Madara wasn’t exactly the sociable type, and he certainly didn’t strike up conversations with strangers on public transit – in fact, he usually did his best to maintain a menacing aura so that people didn’t talk to him. But yesterday, after staring for probably a solid five minutes at the impressively muscled forearms of the guy standing in front of him, Madara had realized even those muscles might get tired of holding an entire bonsai tree, and he should probably offer the guy his seat. The man had accepted the offer with a very genuine-sounding thanks, and then had proceeded to flash Madara an implausibly sunny grin, gesture to the bonsai in his lap, and say, “Trees-ed to meet you!”. The line was so terrible Madara hadn't been able to let it go without comment, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been talking to the guy for twenty minutes and had acquired his Instagram handle.

“Well, can I see a picture?” Izuna demanded.

Madara winced, rapidly weighed his options, and reluctantly unlocked his phone to show Izuna the picture he’d been looking at. Izuna, shockingly, didn’t comment on the nature of the photo, but squinted down at it and said, “Hm…I think I know that guy.”

“You do?”

“I’m pretty sure I met him on campus one time, when I was waiting for your lab to finish. He was waiting for someone too, so we chatted for a few minutes. Nice guy.”

With sudden, dawning horror, Madara asked, “Was he hitting on you?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I think he’s just a friendly type of person.”

Well, a man who flirted with anything that moved – or worse, Izuna – would have been a crushing disappointment, but a ‘friendly type of person’ was nearly as bad. Hashirama had given him his Instagram handle and told him to watch for a post with an update on ‘his’ bonsai, and said bonsai update had included a half-naked Hashirama. Madara had nearly dared to interpret that as interest…but if Hashirama was just a ‘friendly type of person,’ Madara could have been reading the cues entirely wrong. Perhaps their conversation yesterday had just been a fun way to pass the time, and the photo was intended for somebody else.

As if reading his mind, Izuna said, “You should ask him out for drinks or something.”

“I followed his Instagram,” Madara announced, “And that is exactly the number of moves I am willing to make. I’m busy, you know – I can’t go chasing all the time like you.” Just one of many excellent reasons to save that picture for his fantasies and never meet the real person ever again.

“You just finished marking all your exams,” Izuna countered. “I know you’re not that busy. Come on, Nii-san, be reasonable: when are you ever going to get another chance like this again?”

“Thanks for that, Izuna,” Madara muttered. Who said he was even interested in dating, anyways? Relationships were messy, confusing, and time-consuming; not at all worth the hassle –

Madara’s phone buzzed. Instagram message from Hashirama: Hey, sorry if this is presumptuous, but do you want to meet up for drinks sometime?

Madara stared at his screen. Then, disbelieving, he held out the phone for Izuna to read. A stunned moment of silence, and then Izuna shrieked, “You have to go!”

Well, maybe this wasn’t quite as complicated as Madara had feared. Izuna was right; he wasn’t that busy. Pursing his lips in concentration, Madara typed out a reply.

---

Tobirama had been completely wrong, as it turned out: Madara was neither a creep nor a stalker. He was a grad student with an acerbic tongue, passionate opinions, and a lovely embarrassed blush. Hashirama had become so absorbed in the conversation he’d completely forgotten to order more drinks, which was seriously unlike him – although, since he’d made up his mind to pay for the date, it was probably for the best.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Madara remarked abruptly, somewhere around hour three or four.

“You mean existentially?”

“Literally here, in a bar, having drinks with you,” Madara clarified. “I mean – my younger brother is convinced I’m incapable of socializing. He was probably planning to set me up with one of his friends from…art school…” He leveled a suspicious glare at Hashirama as he said these last few words. “He didn’t put you up to this, did he? What’s he paying you?”

“It wasn’t your brother,” said Hashirama seriously. “It was the bonsai.”

“The bonsai paid you to take me out for drinks?”

“The bonsai brought us together.” Hashirama raised his glass; Madara followed suit, looking a little bemused but playing along, nonetheless. “To the bonsai!” Hashirama announced. He drained his glass, surreptitiously watched the way Madara’s throat moved as he drank, and thought. Tobirama would definitely judge him for thinking it, but though Hashirama barely knew Madara, he felt an immediate connection to him. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

“Madara,” he said. Madara looked at him with his dark, expressive eyes, shadows from his hair falling across his face, and Hashirama bit his lip. Careful, he thought. “I really am glad you’re here, in this bar, having drinks with me.”

Madara flushed again, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red; Hashirama wondered if he could make Madara flush anywhere else. “I’m glad, too,” he said, low and a little shaky, as though he was unused to saying things like that.

Hashirama immediately abandoned his caution of just a moment before and said, “Do you want to get out of here? We can go to my place – my brother won’t be home.”

“Yes,” said Madara. “Yes, definitely.”

---

Hashirama had the bonsai – Madara’s bonsai, the one he’d toasted that evening – set up in pride of place in his bedroom. That should have prompted Madara to suspect Hashirama had planned for this to happen, and make him annoyed at Hashirama’s confidence. He should also have been a lot more panicked when he looked at Hashirama’s face, sleepy and content, with his previously immaculate hair tangled on the pillow, and felt a tug somewhere under his sternum. Instead, he looked at that bonsai on his way out of the room and thought, Thanks.

Hashirama’s apartment wasn’t very large, considering it housed two people, but it was still annoying to search for the bathroom in an unfamiliar place. Madara had been sure Hashirama had told him it was down the hall on the left, but now he was in the entranceway. He was about to retrace his steps and try again when he heard a key jingling in the door.

“Hey, Anija, I just came back for – ” The man in the doorway spotted Madara and froze. Madara, too, had frozen in horror, because even in the dim light he’d immediately recognized Hashirama’s brother.

“You!” yelped Senju Tobirama.

“No,” Madara said, backing up a step. “Absolutely not.”

Tobirama pointed an accusing finger at him. “I was supposed to be done with you!” he hissed. “You took off that one mark on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Oh, because you think all your solutions are perfect, do you?” He’d certainly acted that way all through that torturous organic chemistry class.

“Tobirama?” came Hashirama’s concerned voice from the hallway.

“Tell me you’re not sleeping with my TA, Anija!” Tobirama practically wailed, and suddenly, Madara’s annoyance at the appearance of his least favourite student was replaced with pure schadenfreude.

“I’m afraid he very much is,” he said, before Hashirama could reply. “So you’d better get used to seeing a lot of me.” And to his great satisfaction, he watched Hashirama’s face brighten in delight, and Tobirama’s drop in utter horror.

#I don't actually know how instagram works but i did my best #inspired by art by thelistening #plus the time the two of us had to lug a huge lavender tree on the subway #hashimada happenings 2020 #hashimada #naruto #my writing

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