#also just pretend that i intentionally left the booking glass out of every drawing after the first one it’s in

[xbomboi]

5 times Apple hugged Raven…

————————

…and the one time Raven hugged back.

(see my previous eah comic here)

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

No Judgement | peter parker x chubby!fem!reader

@juliebean247​ asked: Hii! I’m pretty new to tumblr but I’ve read most of your work and I’m in love with it all!! I dunno if you do peter x reader (if you don’t that’s ok, just ignore lmao) but maybe where we have chubby!reader who jokingly puts herself down all the time and peter just kinda snaps at her for doing it because he can’t stand the comments she makes- because he’s crushing on her...? Again- you don’t have to do this one or you can change it up!

requests are now closed

Summary: You are you, and damn you love it. Everyone knows it too, and they love you. Joking about yourself is common. But as soon as you feel down, you can’t stop but put yourself down. Sometimes harshly. And Peter can’t take it anymore.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings: angsty (mention of fat shaming, insecurities), a tiny bit of language (nothing too bad) but fluff at then end 

Word Count: 1945

A/N: first time (really) writing about our Spidey boy! 🎉🕷 also I kinda take my time with writing so sorry it took me a bit 😅 but I only feel accomplished when Like what I write sooooo bare with me please? 🙄🙊 anyway! thank you for your request sweetheart, I hope you will all like this little angsty fluffy as much as I do~ 💞 AND LOVE YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL BEAUTIFUL!!! 💖💜💖💜

masterlist

To hell with all beauty standards and perfection stereotypes!

You love your body as it is, from the smallest imperfection on your face to your curves and extra skin. And needless to say you are proud to show it. But sometimes other people’s look can be harsh on you, full of judgements as they don’t even know you but any opportunity is an open door to criticism.

So you got use to it like you didn’t care, and even made fun of it. More like made fun of yourself, actually.

“Man, her legs put together are the size of one thigh of mine!” you chuckle as you eat in the cafeteria next to MJ, Peter and Ned. All the table look at who you are talking about.

MJ playfully elbows you in the waist as she drinks her glass of water. “Shush (Y/N), everyone compares Bethany as a walking chopstick anyway.”

“I knoooow” you reply with a playful tone, munching on your pasta.

“You also look like chopsticks MJ, like from head to toes. Damn girl, you could just fly away with the wind!” you giggle while trying to steal in MJ’s plate. “And I will just stick to the ground like a pole!”

Even if you are laughing at yourself, you are actually the only one. You don’t catch MJ rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh, Ned being kind of confused and Peter... well, clearly being annoyed.

“Alriiiiiight you little brat, stop talking crap ‘cause you still have to explain the last lesson to me before next class starts” grumbles MJ as she stands, her now empty tray in hand before taking it away.

“Yup girl, coming!” you announce, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin.

Peter follows each of your moves. All done eating you too stand, put your bag on your back and take your tray ready to follow MJ, who is already waiting for you near the exit of the cafeteria.

“Alright guys, see you in chemistry!” you happily sing while showing your biggest smile to the boys before leaving the table to join MJ.

The constant chattering of the students in the background hides the silent at the table. Ned finishes his yogurt before talking to Peter, but he stops himself when he notices his friend’s face. Tensed. Annoyed. And sad maybe? Ned has actually an idea of what is bothering his friend so much but knowing Peter’s personality, it would be a waste of time. Better to skirt the issue.

“(Y/N) is acting a bit weird recently, don’t you think?”

Peter only hums, more focus on mixing what is left of his yogurt than anything else right now. Head low and furrowed eyebrows, he keeps staring at actually nothing, just being lost in his thought and thinking. 

Thinking a lot, yes. About you. About how much you put yourself down way too much recently.

He can’t laugh at your cheeky comments anymore. He just can’t.

* * * *

Chemistry is your last class of the day, thanks the lords. You are finally reunited with all your three best friends so, hopefully the hours will pass by faster.

MJ writes (more like scribbles) lazily the answers for the report your duo has to give back at the end of the lesson, while you are the one having fun mixing whatever there is in the test tubes. Then you take an empty one and look through it.

“MJ, look” you whisper to your friend, trying to catch her attention. At first she doesn’t even care to turn her head towards you, until you insist by calling-whispering her name until she finally deigns to glance at you. Not really understanding what you want to show her, MJ brings her lab stool closer to you and frowns as she looks through your test tube. You brings the tube closer to both your faces.

“Look, Lara’s ass is as big as mine now” you kind of try to whisper, as well as not laughing out loud to not get reprimanded by the teacher.

In fact the glass tube deforms everything you look at when watching through it. And in that case, it is changing the shapes of your comrade’s bottom. MJ seems unimpressed and with her well-known bitch resting face, the girl simply goes back to her writings but not without sending you “are you serious?” glances.

Little did you know Peter could hear all your conversation, even three desks behind. The displeased look on his face is immediately showing and he almost breaks the pen he is using to write on the due paper. The slight crack of the plastic draws Ned’s attention.

“Dude, that’s my favourite pen!”

“Sorry, mate” grumbles Peter, putting the pen down and he sighs, leaning his elbows on the lab desk. He exhales loudly while ruffling at his hair. 

“You should talk to (Y/N), don’t you think so?” declares Ned as he takes two test tubes in his hands to deal with their contents. “You know, just to tell her how you feel and stuff like that.”

“I don’t know, man” retorts Peter with a low voice, his head now hidden in his arms. “I just- I can’t just say “hey (Y/N), stop running yourself down all the time because you are gorgeous in every way and I had a crush on you since high school and-”

“Peter stop, you’re mumbling like a freak” exclaims Ned, hoping to end his friend’s suffering. “Seriously, I noticed the face you do when she jokes about herself. I mean, maybe she’s not feeling great so you talking to her might sort things out somehow?”

Peter processes Ned’s words as his eyes follows you when you go ask something to the teacher. There is something about the kindness that emanates from your pretty eyes, the pink outline of your lips, the unique way your hair curves perfectly around your round face, but mostly your hourglass figure. Sometimes the boy finds hard to keep his eyes up. But you look so beautiful to him. That is mainly the reason why Peter can’t accept hearing you badmouthing about your appearance anymore.  

* * * *

The ringing bell announces the end of today’s lessons. Students are now filling every corridors, some going to their locker and other already leaving the building.

“I need to take some books in my locker, you coming with me MJ?” you ask your friend.

“Sorry, my mum’s picking me up ‘cause we’re going to my grandma this evening so I have to hurry” explains MJ, not too excited about the thought of it.

“I need to go to my locker too” Peter jumps into the conversation. He directly stares at you, a determined look on his face.

“Oh, uhm- alright then!” you cheer blushing a bit, still taken aback by Peter’s serious tone.

You wave goodbye at MJ and Ned as you start walking to your locker, Peter following close to you and receiving two discrete thumbs up from Ned. 

The main school corridor is now more empty, the steps of the last students resonating and almost fading little by little. You and Peter stop in front of your lockers, them being next to each other and just do your own things by taking and putting down what you need or not. Peter is more like fiddling with stuff, pretending to do something while his goal was obviously talking to you.

When he ears you zipper your backpack shut and close your locker, he violently - but not intentionally - slams his close a bit too harsh, making the loud metallic slap resonate in the empty corridor. You jump at that too and Peter just wants to facepalm himself at his own stupidity. 

“Err (Y/N), can- can we talk?” the boy mutters, now shy because of his sudden loose of confidence.

“Sure Pete, about what?”

Peter gulps as you stare at him, waiting for what he has to say. He is nervous now. How will you react? Good or bad? Will you ignore him after that talk because he offended you or misunderstood the situation? Will you-

“Peter? You’re alright?”

Your soft and worried voice suddenly takes him out of his mixed up thoughts.

“You’re gorgeous (Y/N).”

That is indeed straight to the point. Totally. First you blink a few times, not sure if you heard it right but seeing Peter’s serious face says it all. Your whole face is now blushing at his sudden compliment.

“P-PETER WHY DO YOU-”

“(Y/N), you are the most beautiful girl I know. Like in every way possible. You’re kind, smart, funny, a bit nerdy, outgoing, sometimes eccentric too but it’s part of your personality. But you’re also gorgeous in the way you dress because it shows your beautiful shapes off. You have nothing to be ashamed of in comparison to any other girl. You’re unique and I love everything about you, starting with your cheeks because they’re so round and full, but also your waist because its highlights your defined hips and I could go on and on for hours. It’s everything a boring, shy, awful and introvert guy like me loves. So please, stop putting yourself down all the time. You don’t deserve it and never you will. I don’t like that and I just want you to know that I loved you since high school and that I-”

You cut Peter off in his mumbling by putting both your hands on his mouth. When he finally stops - also remembering to breath again -, he finally notices how much your face and ears are red. You avoid looking at him, still not fully processing all the compliments and obvious declaration of love. Your heartbeats could almost break through your ribcage and your mind is a mess.

Seeing you conflicting with yourself, Peter takes your hands off his mouth and gently keep them in his. His look tries to search for yours.

“(Y/N), I’m serious about what I said. You know I’m awful with words but... Trust me when I say I love everything about you, a lot, so please love yourself as much as I do.”

After calming down a bit, you dare to look at Peter again, his eyes soft and reassuring. You are still at a loose of words because nobody said any of the beautiful things Peter just did to you. Nobody. And it warms your heart knowing that someone loves you how you are. You love it even more because you know it is Peter.

Peter squeezes your hands and with a impulse out of nowhere, he lightly pecks the corner of your mouth. He then moves his face back, smiling warmly at you.

“When you’re with me, there is no judgement (Y/N).”

“J-Jeez, Peter...” you stutter, you face still red of shyness.

“I’m walking you back home, come on” Peter mans himself up, noticing the school is completely empty with not a sound around. Detaching his hands from you, he picks your backpack up to give it to you. You take it with wobbling  hands, muttering a shy “thanks” before putting it on your back. Now ready to go, Peter extends one hand for you to take and this time, you don't have to be told twice. 

Hand in hands, fingers intertwine, you both walk through the long corridor, only you two remaining here. Peter’s warm hand reassures you in a strange way. But you like it. 

And you can’t stop the content smile growing on your face as you sneak a look at the boy who just proved you are worth it. Inside out. From head to toes.

And boy do you love this feeling.

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[mdzsgildedfate]

Gilded Fate - Chapter 5

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 5/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi

After five thousand years of solitude, crossing paths with Wei Wuxian seemed like fate. It wasn’t that Song Lan was seeking him out, or that he’d even thought about the man in centuries, but the fact that it happened not long after Xiao Xingchen’s soul had finally healed. Five thousand years of carrying the remnants of his friend in a soul-trapping pouch, of traveling the world alone, of dwelling on regret. It had beaten him down.

So when Song Lan admitted to lying about burning Xingchen’s corpse in Yi City and Wuxian offered to try resurrecting him, he couldn’t help but say yes. It was a moment of weakness that only resulted in more hurt. After Xingchen was brought back, Wuxian seemed confident that his strange behavior was just a result of having been dead and shattered for so long, and that he’d return to normal with time.

In a way, it was true. It only took a few months for Xingchen to stop trying to pull Song Lan’s eyes out of his head at random times. He was thankful for that at least, but having his friend back wasn’t what he’d expected. Xiao Xingchen was distant, staying in his room alone for weeks at a time, frequently wandering away from the temple on his own, and, no matter what Song Lan did, never spoke a word. It was like living with a ghost.

Three hundred years passed this way. Song Lan tended to Xingchen- brought him tea, washed his clothes, gave him as much space as he could bare- and in turn, Xingchen ignored his presence. He was starting to think that was just the way their lives were, until he returned home from a night-hunt to an empty temple. At first, it didn’t seem unusual. Xingchen would sometimes disappear for a few days before coming back with no explanation as to where he was.

But days passed and he didn’t return. When weeks passed, Song Lan had to go looking for him. Thankfully, being two of the only fierce corpses left in the world, locating each other wasn’t terribly difficult. Xingchen’s yin energy lingered in the air, leaving a trail to follow. A trail that led to where Yi City used to be. By now, the buildings had been torn down, or fell down on their own, and the entire area had been reclaimed by nature.

“Xiao Xingchen…”

“...”

“Why would you come back here?”

Xingchen turned around slowly, meeting Song Lan’s gaze. His blank expression revealed no hint as to what he was thinking.

“What do you expect to find here? There’s nothing left.”

Xingchen looked away for a moment, thoughtful eyes slowly scanning the wooded area before reaching a hand into one of his sleeves and pulling something out. He looked back up at Song Lan again and held the object out for him to see. In the palm of his hand was a flat hair ornament made of gold, shaped into a sharp design. Song Lan looked at it in disbelief.

“Is that actually his?”

Xingchen nodded.

“How did you find that?”

He closed his hand around it and turned away.

Song Lan approached him, hesitantly placing a hand on Xingchen’s shoulder. “He’s dead. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”

Xingchen frowned and shrugged Song Lan’s hand off. Shaking his head, he started to walk away. Song Lan tried to follow, but Xingchen turned back immediately, putting his hand against Song Lan’s chest and then pointed to the ground. Feeling hurt, but knowing there was no point in following Xingchen if he didn’t want him around, Song Lan nodded solemnly and went back to the temple alone. Ten years passed without a word from the other man.

When he returned at last, Xingchen walked straight past Song Lan with JiangZai strapped to his back. Resentful energy boiled over and the two clashed blades, nearly destroying half the temple in the process. Xingchen refused to concede and wouldn’t let the other man lay a finger on JiangZai. In the end, there was nothing Song Lan could do. Xingchen kept the sword and Song Lan went back to pretending he wasn’t bothered by his companion’s silence.

After that, Xingchen’s weird behavior slowly subsided. He seemed content with having found the sword and never pressed the issue further. Although it seemed like Xingchen would never regain his voice, their relationship had regained some semblance of the past. They took their meals together and shared pots of tea and lived a peaceful life in the temple. The damages done to the architecture were repaired and their dispute was forgotten.

~X~

Morning came and Chen woke beside an empty bed. Looking around the room, Xinyi was nowhere to be found. QianHua was still asleep, so Chen snuck out on his own. After checking through the areas of the temple he knew, he made his way outside to the courtyard. Xinyi was sitting at one of the low tables, hunched over with his back to Chen. For a moment, he wondered if Xinyi was actually trying to finish transcribing the Lan principles from yesterday.

Chen crossed the yard and looked over Xinyi’s shoulder. Instead of the materials from Jingyi’s punishment, Chen saw the familiar notebook Xinyi kept on him. His phone was opened to a picture of an old book Chen recognized from the Wang collection. He sighed, sitting down next to his friend and leaned his head on his shoulder.

“Couldn’t sleep again?”

“Mm.”

“Why are you always copying that book?”

Xinyi shrugged, still copying the characters into his notebook. “It gives me something to focus on.”

“I haven’t seen you work on it in a while.”

“Mm.”

“Are you okay?”

Xinyi nodded, putting his pencil down and straightening up. “I’m fine. I just couldn’t sleep.”

Chen nodded and, after a moment, Xinyi went back to writing in his notebook. The sun slowly crept up and Chen dozed off, still perched on Xinyi’s shoulder. When the first of the students started pouring into the courtyard, Xinyi closed the notebook and tucked it back into his bag. QianHua came out to sit beside them and Chen moved to his own table to wait for breakfast.

He couldn’t help but worry. Xinyi was quiet throughout breakfast, barely touched his food, and looked positively exhausted. Chen knew better than to press further if Xinyi had insisted he was fine. But he also knew his friend had hardly slept since they got to the temple. He could hear him getting up in the middle of the night and coming back at nearly dawn. He could see the circles under his eyes getting darker every day.

Glancing at MingYue, Chen wondered if her presence was the cause of Xinyi’s distress. While he’d suffered from nightmares the entire time Chen knew him, he usually just brushed them off and went back to sleep. Realizing MingYue was staring back at him now, he turned his head away quickly, still feeling her eyes on him long after looking elsewhere. Something about her unnerved him, and not just that she was Xinyi’s ex. She was too calm about everything. Her eyes were too analytical.

If they’d been lucky, their day’s activity would have been something active, something to distract them from their thoughts. Instead, Song Lan passed out blank fans for them to decorate. Chen sighed. He’d never been very artistic. He liked the fans they’d seen on their tour of the temple, but there was no way he’d be able to even come close to making a fan that nice. Beside him, Xinyi and QianHua had already set to work on theirs.

“A-Xin. What are you painting?” Chen asked, leaning over.

Xinyi shrugged. “Trees, I guess. A lot of the fans I’ve seen have trees on them.”

QianHua leaned over, a lame smile plastered across his face. “I drew you Chen.”

QianHua’s fan had a poorly drawn face, intentionally ugly looking, with the only indication that it was Chen being the glasses. Chen rolled his eyes and went back to working on his own. He tried his best to paint seriously, but his lines were too thick to be branches and his flowers bled into misshapen blotches. Having run out of space on his fan to draw, Chen gave up and looked back over to Xinyi, a new wave of concern coming over him.

Xinyi was gripping his paintbrush with a shaky hand, a hint of sweat glistening on his forehead. He was staring straight ahead at the temple, looking as though he’d seen a ghost. Chen followed his gaze, trying to see whatever it was Xinyi was looking at. Seeing nothing abnormal about the temple, Chen reached a hand out and touched Xinyi’s arm to get his attention. The man jumped and shot his gaze over at Chen, quickly relaxing his features.

“What?”

“A-Xin, you look like you saw a ghost. What’s wrong?”

Xinyi laughed. “Why are you always so superstitious? Nothing’s wrong.”

Chen frowned.

“I’m fine, Chen, really.”

Chen dropped the subject. As everyone finished their fans, Sizhui finally concluded whatever serious conversation he’d been having with Jin Ling at the top of the stares. He looked worried about whatever the two had been discussing, but resumed his usual look when he sat down in front of the class, setting his fingers across the surface of the guqin on his table. He plucked a few strings, seeming to still be a little distracted, but quickly recovered and set to strumming out an actual rhythm.

As though Sizhui’s song had summoned him, the white silhouette of Xiao Xingchen appeared at the temple door. Instinctively, Chen looked over at Xinyi again, unsurprised to find his friend already staring at the man. He’d done the same thing the night before at dinner, seeming hypnotized by the very sight of him. Turning his gaze back to the priest, he frowned, feeling a twinge of jealousy. The man’s appearance was truly top notch. There wasn’t a single hair out of place or blemish on his skin. He had prominent cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a slender, graceful figure. Everything about him was perfect and refined.

It made perfect sense why anyone would stare at Xiao Xingchen. It was hard not to look at him. But what Chen was surprised by was the fact that Xiao Xingchen was also staring back at Xinyi.

~X~

With the sudden surge of restless spirits in the temple, it was obvious Xinyi’s awakening had progressed. It had been the same way with Wen Qing all those years ago. What seemed like a random swell of yin energy had turned out to be ghosts of the past, drawn to Qing’s growing spiritual instability. With so many bystanders, Sizhui’s safest course of action was to find inconspicuous times to play Clarity in Xinyi’s presence. It would only quell his qi temporarily, but until the students left Leng Shuang, a temporary fix was all they had.

Sitting down at his guqin, Sizhui stole a quick glance at Xinyi, assessing his current state. He looked tired, distracted, and more than a little unnerved, but he lacked the wild-eyed look Xue Yang was known for. Sizhui set to work, playing the Song of Clarity with his qi directed at XInyi, occasionally looking up at him to see what effect the tune was having on him. Although the boy seemed more relaxed, it was hard to say for sure if it was Clarity’s effects…. Or Xiao Xingchen’s sudden appearance behind him.

It was strange. Seeing someone from his past, especially someone he shared such a deep-rooted hatred with, should have disrupted Xinyi’s qi. But instead, he seemed subdued by Xingchen’s presence. Even stranger, Xingchen seemed equally at ease in Xinyi’s presence, as though greeting an old friend. By the time Sizhui was strumming out the last few chords, Xingchen had descended the stairs and was seated at a low table alongside him and Jingyi.

With the activity and Sizhui’s song finished, the students were dismissed for a few hours, warned not to stray too far from the temple and to be back by lunch time. With the courtyard mostly clear, the cultivators congregated around Sizhui.

“Seems like it worked.” Jingyi said, pouring tea for his companions. “At least for now.”

“Mm.” Sizhui nodded in agreement, taking a cup from Jingyi.

“What do you intend to do when the week ends?” Song Lan asked.

“Jingyi will take everyone back. Jin Ling and I will stay behind with Xinyi to induce his awakening. If we’re lucky, his memories will splice together with his current life cohesively, and he’ll resume a normal life.” Sizhui explained calmly, pausing only to sip his tea. “If not… we’ll have no choice but to kill him.”

Xingchen rapped his fingers across the surface of his table, a small frown on his lips.

“How can someone like him recover his memories and live a normal life?” Song Lan asked, staring into his tea. “It seems like this situation has no positive outcome.”

“Actually.” Sizhui set his cup down. “This isn’t the first time I’ve come across an unfriendly face. I think it was about 1,200 years ago, I encountered the soul of Wen Chao. I had the same worries about him that you have for Xue Yang. As he neared awakening, I was prepared to kill him. To my surprise, he recovered from the initial shock quite well and committed himself to making up for the crimes of his past life.”

Song Lan gaped at him, shocked that someone as dishonourable as Wen Chao could have such an easy awakening. Beside him, Xingchen changed the rhythm he was drumming with his fingers, a small smile having returned to his face. After a moment, he rose to his feet, bowed to the others, and strolled out the front gate. Song Lan followed him with his eyes, looking just a little annoyed.

“Daozhang. Is everything ok?” Jingyi asked once Xingchen was out of earshot.

Song Lan frowned. “Xingchen is…”

He fell silent for a moment. Sizhui grew rigid with anticipation, worried he’d created too much of a burden for the two men by bringing Xinyi here. He thought about offering to take Xinyi away from the temple and dealing with his awakening without Song Lan.

“I don’t understand it.” Song Lan continued at last. “I don’t know if something went wrong with his reanimation, or if this is just a side of him I never saw, but he’s not the same.”

“Is that why he doesn’t talk?” Jin Ling asked, having just assumed until now that the silence was a normal part of Xingchen’s personality.

“Yes. He hasn’t said a word in the past three thousand years.” Song Lan looked down at his hands. “Our relationship almost seemed normal again, but since you all arrived… He’s grown distant again. It’s like he wants Xue Yang to remember.”

Song Lan sighed, shaking his head slightly. Raising to his feet, he gave a brief bow to the other cultivators and went inside. The others exchanged concerned looks, but had no idea how to comfort Song Lan in this kind of circumstance. After a while, Jin Ling ducked out too, exchanging a few words with MingYue on his way out.

~X~

As though last night’s nightmares had acted as a trigger, all throughout the day Xinyi continued to see ghosts. For the most part, they remained in the background as movements out of the corner of his eye, or appearing at a distance for only a second, but there was one that seemed to be getting bolder throughout the day. She was probably only a few years older than Xinyi, with a pretty, oval face and innocent features. Dressed in finer robes, she may have been some kind of noblewoman, and unlike the other ghosts, she wasn’t covered in blood or crying or angry. On the contrary, she was a smiling ghost, and somehow that unnerved Xinyi even more.

The ghost girl had first appeared early in the morning, standing in the far corner of the courtyard, watching him work on his notebook. Then, again at the temple door while they were painting their fans. As soon as they were dismissed from the courtyard, Xinyi bolted out into the woods down to the river, praying she was somehow bound to the temple and unable to follow him. He didn’t even wait for Chen, unable to stomach the worrying looks anymore.

Veering off to the left, Xinyi followed the river up to where a bridge connected the two shores and crossed it halfway. He sat down on the low railing and looked around, making sure there were no lurking spirits before finally letting out a breath of relief. Watching the river rush by beneath him, Xinyi wondered if any of this would be happening if he hadn’t come on this trip. Sure, he’d had nightmares long before this, but they hadn’t been quite this bad, and he definitely hadn’t seen ghosts prior to this. It felt like he was going crazy.

“Avoiding your friends?”

Xinyi looked up at the sound of the voice, immediately smiling at the sight of Xiao Xingchen striding gracefully down the hill.

“Can’t I want to be alone without it being considered ‘avoiding’?”

Xingchen came up to stand in front of him, smiling down at him. “Am I disturbing your alone time, then?”

“Of course not.” Xinyi replied, shaking his head. “Actually, I was hoping to see you again.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Two reasons.” Xinyi stood, holding up two fingers. “First, I had a question. At dinner last night… You didn’t talk at all, right?”

Xingchen’s head cocked to the side ever so slightly. “Were you watching me all night?”

“Well… No, not all night- I mean. It sounds bad if you say it like that.”

The older man laughed softly. “How else should I say it?”

Xinyi frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just noticed when Daozhang and Jiaoshou were talking, you never seemed to reply or say anything yourself.”

Xingchen looked up at the sky, still smiling, silent for a moment before replying. “I prefer not to talk in front of Zichen.”

“Hm? Zichen?”

He looked back at Xinyi. “Song Lan.”

“Oh… Why?”

“Mm…. It wasn’t intentional at first. I was unable to speak for a long time.” Xingchen explained carefully, seeming restrained. “By the time I was able to again, I felt it would only complicate things.”

“Complicate things?”

Xingchen looked down at Xinyi silently for a few heartbeats, his expression giving no hint as to what he was thinking.

“Zichen had questions about things that were difficult to put into words, and wanted to have conversations about things I didn’t want to talk about. Anything I have to say would just be hurtful, so it’s easier to say nothing at all.”

Xinyi nodded slowly, curious as all hell but it seemed too sensitive a topic for a stranger like him to be prodding into. Seeing Xingchen and Song Lan together, they certainly seemed comfortable around each other, affectionate even, but Xingchen’s words showed there was some degree of animosity present.

“What was the other reason?”

“Hm?” Xinyi looked back at Xingchen, shaking the thoughts from his head. “Other reason?”

“The other reason you were hoping to see me.” Xingchen replied, laughing that sweet laugh again.

“Oh! Right. That is…” Xinyi reached into his robe and pulled out the fan he painted. “A gift. For you.”

Xingchen’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. “A gift? What for?”

“No reason. Or, I guess, kind of a thank you?” Xinyi looked away, feeling suddenly very anxious under Xingchen’s gaze. “For helping me last night.”

The older man reached out and took the fan from Xinyi, their fingers brushing together, lingering for just a second. Xinyi looked back up, watching Xingchen unfold the fan to examine the painting on it. For a moment, his expression faltered, seeming torn between thoughts. Xinyi’s heart skipped, feeling like maybe he’d made a mistake in giving Xingchen a gift.

“How did you paint this?”

“Just. With the paint and stuff Song Lan gave us.”

“No, I mean how did you paint this mountain specifically. How do you know this image?”

Xinyi paused, glancing down at the painting on the fan, and shrugged. “I didn’t think I was painting anything in particular. Is there… something wrong?”

“This is…The mountain I grew up on.”

Xinyi gave him a bemused look. “It’s just a regular mountain, how can you tell?”

Xingchen turned the fan around and pointed at a particular curve of lines where the mountain jutted out awkwardly. “This cliff. The tree clinging to the side of it. That’s where my temple was.”

They both fell silent for a moment. Xingchen turned the fan back to continue examining the ink. Xinyi stared at him, feeling a strange mix of emotions. He wasn’t sure if Xingchen was fucking with him or if it was just some weird coincidence. The other man looked pretty serious about it though, fueling the anxiety bubbling in Xinyi’s stomach. After a moment, Xingchen started laughing again, soft and forgiving, instantly easing Xinyi’s nerves.

“A ghost must have guided your hand.” Xingchen said finally, all signs of apprehension melting from his expression.

Xinyi cracked up, letting his laughter move through his whole body. “Maybe so! Maybe being haunted has its perks.”

Xingchen closed the fan finally and tucked it into his sleeve. “Thank you. It’s a lovely gift.”

The complement sent Xinyi’s heart soaring, sending electricity down to his very fingertips. Xingchen was looking at him so sweetly and his face was positively glowing and everything in this moment felt absolutely perfect. The electricity moved his hand forward to grab Xingchen’s, lacing their fingers together. When the man didn’t recoil from the touch, Xinyi took his other hand as well and took a step forward. Just as he was feeling bold enough to close the gap, movement behind Xingchen drew his eye.

Standing at the end of the bridge was the smiling ghost girl, watching them intently with fiery eyes. Her appearance was more intense than the last few times he saw her and the sudden appearance extracted an involuntary ‘Oh!’ from his throat as he jolted back. The back of his legs hit the low railing of the bridge while the top of his body continued its course of motion. He toppled backwards and dropped into the river below. The speed of the water kept him trapped beneath the surface, only spitting him out about forty yards down where the water leveled out.

Xinyi came up sputtering, stumbling towards the shore. The wet robes tangled around his legs, making his movements awkward and jerky. Quickly wiping the excess water from his eyes, he looked around wildly, expecting the ghost girl to be there waiting for him. Thankfully though, the only other person he saw was Xiao Xingchen, who had waded into the water beside him with a wide-eyed look of worry. Seeing the priest look so ungraceful made Xinyi burst out laughing, nearly slipping on a loose rock.

“Wang Xinyi!” Xingchen exclaimed incredulously.

“I’m sorry! You just looked so…” Xinyi tried to stifle his laughter. “Normal! You always look like you stepped right out of a painting, but just now- You really looked like a regular guy!”

Xingchen scoffed, unable to contain his own laughter now. “I thought you were going to drown!”

“Pshh, I’m not that easy to kill!” Xinyi replied with a wink.

In a moment of sheer childishness, Xingchen swiped his hand through the water, splashing it up into Xinyi’s face. Xinyi froze and looked at Xingchen in disbelief, shocked that the perfectly pristine and reverant Taoist priest would stoop to his level of horseplay. Recovering from the shock, he splashed back, breaking out into laughter again. Xingchen lifted his arm, blocking the attack with the flared sleeve of his robe.

In the moment Xingchen’s vision was blocked, Xinyi took the opportunity to close the space between them again, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. Xingchen turned his head back to face Xinyi, his smile faded but not entirely gone.

“Xiao Xingchen.” Xinyi said quietly, a half smile still present. “What should I do when the week is over and I can’t see you anymore?”

Xingchen brought a hand up to Xinyi’s face, pushing strands of wet hair from his cheeks. “Are you already so attached to me?”

Yes! Of course I am! How could anyone look at someone so perfect and not get attached?

The thoughts raced through his head, but he knew better than to say it out loud. In reality, Xinyi couldn’t explain why he felt so attached to Xiao Xingchen, considering they’d only briefly interacted a handful of times. Even so, the idea of leaving in a few days and never seeing Xingchen again nearly broke his heart. He knew it made no sense, and probably sounded childish and naive, but it was the case nonetheless.

Xingchen flattened his hand to Xinyi’s face, cupping his cheek gently. “What should I do if you’ve already run out of things to say to me?”

“I haven’t!” Xinyi frowned. “But how do I explain being attached to you after knowing you for such a short time without sounding stupid…”

The man laughed, his whole face lighting up like the sun. He brought his other hand to Xinyi’s cheek, holding his face with both hands. Before he had a chance to process what was happening, Xingchen leaned forward and pressed his lips to Xinyi’s. He inhaled sharply, feeling like a fire had just been lit in his stomach. Leaning into the kiss, his hands closed around the fabric of Xingchen’s robes, holding onto him as though he was worried the man might disappear into thin air.

Xingchen pulled away too soon, cutting a perfectly good kiss too short. Xinyi opened his eyes, looking up at Xingchen with a look of awe. The man chuckled softly, seeming amused by the way Xinyi was looking at him. He released Xinyi’s face and began walking back to shore, ringing out the sleeves of his robe. The younger man pouted, knowing their latest brief encounter was about to come to an end. Xingchen was always the one to walk away first, leaving Xinyi feeling some kind of way.

Once Xingchen had disappeared from his sight, Xinyi let out a sigh, kicking the water in disappointment. As he waded out of the river and began trudging back to the bridge, his face was hurting from how wide he was smiling. It wasn’t until he had walked all the way back up the river, crossed the bridge, and got back to the road that he remembered he’d left his bag in the courtyard. He jogged the rest of the way back, feeling that familiar anxiety of having forgotten your belongings in a public space.

Chen and QianHua caught up to him just as he was passing through the gate, immediately giving him shit for ditching them. His bag was just where he left it, so his attention redirected to the tangent QianHua had launched into. Heading back into the temple so Xinyi could put on dry clothes, he grabbed his bag absentmindedly as they passed by- freezing dead in his tracks as soon as it was in his hand. It was entirely too light. Something was missing.

“A-Xin?” Chen turned to look at him questioningly.

Xinyi lifted his bag up in front of him and opened it. As the anxiety swelled around him, overlapping whispers filled his ears. He reached his hand into the bag, feeling around for the missing item. The whispers grew louder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see shadows darting back and forth around him. He looked up, turning to look at who else was in the courtyard.

Most of the students were still playing around the river, but there was a group of five or six people on the other side of the yard. Just as Xinyi was starting to wonder if he’d put the notebook back in his room and simply forgotten, solid movement caught his eye. MingYue was descending the stairs with a golden-toned husky at her side, heading towards the group of students. The whispers in his ears were growing louder, some of them practically yelling. At the bottom of the stairs, the Smiling Ghost caught his attention, grinned wider, and pointed at MingYue.

A startling anger welled in his chest and he began moving to intercept MingYue. Chen and QianHua chased after him, questioning his sudden change in demeanor. When Chen grabbed his shoulder, Xinyi practically shoved him off his feet. Reaching the group at the same time as MingYue, he pushed his way past three people and shot his hand out. He grabbed her throat hard and shoved her back about a foot. She lifted off the ground for just a moment before the students around them jumped on Xinyi and pulled him off of her.

“A-Xin, what-”

“WHERE THE FUCK IS IT.” Xinyi shouted, struggling against the hands holding him in place. “GIVE IT BACK.”

MingYue was leaning into another girl, her hands at her throat and tears in her eyes. “Where’s what?”

“DON’T BULLSHIT ME, I KNOW YOU TOOK IT.”

Chen and QianHua were at his side now, struggling alongside everyone else to hold Xinyi in place.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tears spilled over and streamed down her cheeks now.

Behind MingYue, Smiling Ghost was nodding at Xinyi, silently egging him on.

“IF YOU DON’T GIVE IT BACK, I SWEAR I’LL STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH AND PULL IT OFF YOUR FUCKING CORPSE-”

The loud clap of skin on skin silenced the commotion and echoed through the court. Pain blossomed across Xinyi’s cheek as he slowly turned his head to see what just happened. Summoned by the disconcerting shouting, Xingchen had descended on the group and grabbed Xinyi by the hair. Jerking him around to face him, Xingchen slapped Xinyi hard across the face, putting a screeching halt on his rampage.

Xinyi stared back at him, his mouth slightly agape in shock. Blinking a few times, he seemed to come back to himself. Smiling Ghost had vanished along with the maddening whispers, leaving Xinyi to slowly realize what he’d just said to MingYue. He gave her a horrified look, stumbling back a step, looked back at Xingchen, and spun on his heel to stagger back into the temple. Xiao Xingchen was the only one brave enough to follow.

“Wang Xinyi.” Xingchen said sternly once they were away from the watchful eyes of the crowd outside.

Xinyi stopped. Xingchen grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around.

“Look at me.”

Trembling, his gaze remained glued to the floor. “What’s wrong with me?”

Xingchen paused, his anger diminishing a little.

Xinyi looked up slightly, tears falling down his face, still avoiding the other's stare. “Xingchen. What’s happening to me? Why did I do that?”

His breathing quickened, shaking his body harder. His eyes were blown open, looking straight through Xingchen as if he weren’t there. Hands coming up to the sides of his head, Xinyi let out a short, horrified wail. His fingers tangled through his hair, gripped it as if he were about to tear it out, and broke out into heavy sobs.

“How could I say something like that?!” Through his tears, he met Xingchen’s eyes finally. “Xiao Xingchen, what’s happening to me?I”

[recentanimenews]

FEATURE: How 86 EIGHTY-SIX's Uses Chronology to Perfect the Art of Adaptation

  The very first thing we see in 86 EIGHTY-SIX  is a train track. Our heroes, long-serving soldier Shinei “Undertaker” Nouzen and his Spearhead Squadron, race along it toward the horizon in their insectile Juggernaut vehicles. Beyond that horizon is the all-consuming fire of the front. It’s a classic metaphor: In the Republic of San Magnolia, war is a one-stop ride to hell and death. The future of the Spearhead Squadron was determined long ago.

  But 86 EIGHTY-SIX is not just the story of Undertaker. It’s also the story of Lena “Handler One” Mirize, a promising young strategist with deep reservations about the war her country is running. A war in which the minority populace of the Republic of San Magnolia are used as disposable cannon fodder. Lena is allowed to have these reservations publicly because of her family’s connections. She has not yet internalized that her own scruples do nothing for the soldiers under her command and that the good, honest war she wants is not possible under the corrupt institutions that run San Magnolia. The Spearhead Squadron, put under her command, understands this intimately.

  86 EIGHTY-SIX is a tale of two train tracks running parallel: thwarted idealism on one side, cruel violence on the other. This is already a serviceable set-up for a war story.  After all, the original 86 EIGHTY-SIX novels were popular enough in themselves to score an anime adapted by rising director Toshimasa Ishii. All they had to do was to follow these two tracks, side by side, to their inevitable climax.

  Instead, Ishii and his staff took a risk.

    In the third episode of 86 EIGHTY-SIX, Lena speaks over a remote connection to Undertaker and his posse in the mess. We see that the Spearhead Squadron doesn’t quite know what to make of their commander; she’s nicer than some, but the way she pretends to understand them despite operating from an outrageously privileged position of power makes them uncomfortable. Bitter soldier Laughing Fox grits his teeth in the corner. Others joke about the cat that hangs around the mess, who every member of the squad has given a different name. 

  In the second half of the episode, we see Lena’s side of the story. Unlike the warm communal space of the Spearhead Squadron, she lives within a sterile glass palace of small luxuries. We see the ways in which Handler One is frustrated by every interaction she has with her peers, none of them troubled by the societal contradictions that agitate her daily. Then she calls up the Spearhead Squadron, and suddenly we find ourselves in the middle of the conversation that Undertaker and his teammates had with her earlier. We see her laugh about their cat with many names. 

  Without clearly marking the cut, the 86 EIGHTY-SIX anime stakes out a chronological separation between the first and second half of the episode. Lena and the Spearhead Squadron do not simply live in different worlds, separated by systems of color and class. They live in different timelines. The parallel train tracks of the 86 EIGHTY-SIX anime are asynchronous. Lena does her part to understand the Spearhead Squadron (by drawing their cat on a piece of notebook paper). The Spearhead Squadron try to understand Lena (by drawing her as a pig dressed as a princess). But is the cat Lena draws the real cat? Is the pig the Spearhead Squadron draws really Lena?

    The 86 EIGHTY-SIX novels do not do this. They do cut between Handler One and the horrors of the front, but save for a flash-forward prologue, they are structured in chronological order. This lends itself to a smooth reading experience. By contrast, the staff of 86 EIGHTY-SIX continuously find new and exciting ways to break up that smooth narrative experience to better convey how constant stress and exposure to violence fractures time. Scenes jump cut unceremoniously from one locale to another. At other times, key details are left out, only to be filled in later. Warmly depicted sequences of characters bonding outdoors transition without warning into intense battles, because to live as a member of the 86 is to be in constant proximity to death.

  The majority of anime these days are produced systematically. Take a popular manga, produce storyboards that roughly follow the source material, and then animate them. Novels give a bit more leeway, but diverging too far from the text can be dangerous. Just a few years ago, the staff behind the ambitious project Boogiepop and Others ended up in hot water when the original novel’s illustrator expressed disapproval regarding the new character designs. Fans can also be hard to please. To produce work that not merely replicates, but adapts source material can be a risky choice. 

    Toshimasa Ishii and his crew are not just replicating the story — they are adapting for the screen. The way in which time has been used in 86 EIGHTY-SIX to brutalize, to heighten suspense, to strengthen the walls separating members of the cast, is a technique unique to film. When reading a novel, the reader determines when and how time advances. They may read as fast or as slow as they like. But the length and pace of an episode of 86 EIGHTY-SIX is determined from the start, in the same way a train track is laid. Other changes are made, as well — a key scene in episode four is relocated in such a way that further fleshes out the setting. In a sequence that sold me permanently on Ishii’s approach to this show, a shooting star in the third episode of the series is bookended by Lena’s flying tear caught on the surface of a vase.

  Despite how it has been changed in adaptation, 86 EIGHTY-SIX remains 86 EIGHTY-SIX. It’s an adaptation of a popular light novel that pits teenagers in scrappy machines against autonomous drones. As someone who doesn’t read a lot of light novels and finds Undertaker’s stupendous victories with substandard equipment a bit improbable, I found myself drawn into the series despite myself. It’s a show made with intentionality that wants the viewer to pay attention to its framing and ask questions. How does the time difference between Lena and Undertaker’s storylines underscore the difference between their social classes? What does the series accomplish by telling us in advance a character will die, rather than hide that death as a shocking twist as the source material does? What might happen if these two tracks ever connect? I hope someone out there is watching and taking notes.

    Are you watching 86 EIGHTY-SIX? Are you a fan of the light novel? Will Shinei ever finish reading his copy of All Quiet on the Western Front? Let us know in the comments!

      Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he is not trying to figure out what other books Shinei keeps in his war fiction library, he sporadically contributes with a loose coalition of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying?You can find him on Twitter at: @wendeego

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Adam Wescott