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lightaflametoburnmethrough · 4 months ago

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YunaAki Moments Collection: Chapter 11

✨🤍 HAPPY WHITE DAY 🤍✨

I’m actually glad I didn’t try to squeeze in this post for Kaito’s bday (since I was busy finishing his bday fic) cuz now I have something to post for today!

Started this analysis series on Valentine’s Day with Akiho and following it up on White Day with Kaito. It strangely fits cuz in Japan, mostly women buy chocolates on February 14th while White Day, March 14th, is the reciprocal holiday so men return the favor by buying gifts for the women they received chocolates from.

また縁か？ Hahaha, my good friend is always at work when I am 😂

So! Let’s get started on this chapter cuz it is longer than the previous one to accomodate Kaito’s long legs 🤣

lol, how Kaito makes his first appearance in the manga (and anime) will always be funny to me cuz he looks like he’s emerging out of the shadows from another realm when in reality, he’s been standing behind Akiho the entire time 😂

It’s also like he’s being introduced on stage. There is a focus in the center already but another spotlight turns on to bring your attention to a new presence to the left and gets brighter the more he comes into view.

His introduction really highlights that this is where the plot more or less officially starts.

Because the driving force of the story actually lies with Kaito since he’s the one with the goal. He’s the one who has plan on how to reach his objective and he’s about to engage with the MacGuffin that’s needed in order for his plan to succeed.

But before all those complications begin, he simply greets their guests in that unassuming, unfailingly polite and professional way he’s trained himself to be towards everything.

Most people won’t have the chance to encounter a real butler (again, funny cuz this is only a façade, his real job is something else entirely) so the closest experience to this would probably be interacting with a maître d’ at a high class restaurant.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for coming today, I will do my best to make sure you have an enjoyable time.”

He really does try to give off those “I’m just a servant, please don’t mind me” vibes as much as possible and it might’ve worked…

If it weren’t for the fact that he and Akiho have a history together. Which, as shown in this panel, has been established from the get-go by Akiho herself.

“I’ve been troubling Kaito-san ever since I was little…”

“小さいころから” translates to “since I was little”. And seeing how far back that really goes in later chapters and how there have been no changes in personnel since they first met, yea, they have known each other for quite a long time now.

Meaning, Kaito can’t just be any servant. Nobody is called “just a (so-and-so)” when they’ve stuck together for that long.

He is Akiho’s personal attendant and should at least be acknowledged with that sort of significance in respect to the length of time he’s been with her.

But there’s another issue we have to address.

It’s Akiho’s wording.

Here, she uses very negative words to describe herself again.

“ご迷惑” = “to inconvenience”

Just like in chapter 9 where she uses “面倒みて” (“took the trouble to”), Akiho continues to see herself as the “burden” in their relationship.

Even though they both know Kaito’s been assigned with this task of looking after her so she isn’t a burden at all. Taking care of her is his job.

Yet she keeps putting herself down as if “it’d be a lot easier on him if I didn’t exist”.

Does she really believe that? No, of course not. She’s already come a long way (in many senses of the phrase) from the depressing environment she was raised in with Kaito’s help during all those years they’ve lived together.

However, bad habits die hard especially if they stem from horrible trauma.

It means Akiho has not completely overcome the pain her clan had afflicted on her. She’s still carrying those scars and they’re out in plain view. In the form of her own words and displays of lasting psychological effects rather than signs of physical abuse.

Kaito is very aware of this. Of course he is. He’s known Akiho for years and even before they met, he knew what her clan had put her through with their inhumane magical experiment and the insults they hurled at her within earshot.

So he made it his mission to not only save her life but to help her unlearn the mindset she got from their mistreatment.

He can’t undo the damage they caused but he can prove to her that they’re wrong, one step at a time.

And it starts with his words that gently contradicts Akiho’s.

For example, in this panel when he introduces himself, he says:

I take care of Akiho-san’s personal matters.

The key words here are “take care of” (お世話).

“お世話” is just what it means and just how it sounds.

It’s neutral. It’s stating the facts.

He takes care of Akiho. He cooks for her, he cleans the house she leaves in, maybe he even helps her fill out forms for school or whatever. That sort of stuff.

There’s nothing positive or negative about what he does but compared to how Akiho spoke about herself just a minute ago, it already tells us something about his character.

It shows that Kaito’s definitely not the same as the people who have no problem with hurting her because they view her as something less for not having magic.

And Kaito further proves he’s good, further proves he’s on Akiho’s side by what he does next.

He walks closer to her and leans down in order to quietly correct her statement:

You have never once caused me any trouble, Akiho-san.

This. This is the part where I knew I would never turn my eyes or my heart away from these two for anything else.

Because Kaito didn’t have to tell her this now, right in front of their guests.

He could’ve pulled Akiho aside or told this to her later and it would’ve had the same effect. He could’ve said this to her after the girls had left that day because that would keep the line in check between how he acts professionally (in front of strangers) vs how he acts more personally (in front of Akiho).

But no, Kaito decided that he has to tell Akiho immediately. So he does it in a way that blurs the line of professionalism for just a moment without alarming anyone.

He’s respectful first. He welcomes the girls warmly into their home because they’re Akiho’s friends so naturally, he would want them to have fun while visiting today.

Ok, he gave a proper greeting. Done!

Next, he goes to attend to Akiho.

Akiho is all smiles. In fact, she’s too busy being happy about having visitors over to really care or notice that she’s gone and needlessly criticized herself again.

And that’s exactly why Kaito has to correct her right away.

This became a bad habit because no one told her otherwise and will stay a bad habit if no one bothers to change it.

Akiho has always had low self-esteem. She’s gotten so used to being disdained by her kinsmen that she adopted their opinions as the truth to treat herself the same way. Even if she wanted to improve or change, she must’ve been afraid to do so because she was always expecting someone to call her “useless” no matter what she did.

So Kaito tried to pave the path for her and encouraged her to look at herself differently.

Whenever she says "I'm inconveniencing others", he'd reply "no, you're not a nuisance". Whenever she says she's clumsy, too shy or just not capable of doing anything, he'd respond "that's not true at all" and proceed to list all things she is good at, how much she's accomplished and how much more she will go on to achieve.

He's supportive of her and does his best to reinforce her belief in herself. What's more, he does all of this in a manner that isn't forceful but gentle. Because he understands (at least concerning her thoughts about herself) that a person's perspective can only change on their own terms, if they want themselves to.

To do that, they need a environment where they know they won't be judged. They need to feel safe first before coming out of their own shell.

And Kaito tries very hard to provide that for Akiho. He wants her to know that it's alright to be herself, to accept herself as nothing less than the wonderful person that she is and to know that she doesn't have to answer to anyone's expectations except her own. He wants her to leave the painful past that no longer matters behind so that she can finally heal from it. So that she will never talk down about herself ever again.

It's incredibly difficult to do, considering how deep her emotional wounds goes. And even more so while they're keeping within the boundaries that must be observed between them ("master and servant").

But the fact that Kaito has always been tirelessly reassuring Akiho and is still continuing to validate Akiho's worth as her own person whenever he sees the chance to…it really goes to show much he cares about her.

To the point where he would even break that line of professionalism just to put her heart at ease, to keep her from backtracking on all the progress she's made for herself so far.

Yea…this is what made it clear to me from Day 1.

That there was no way Kaito could be bad since he was willing to do whatever he could to protect Akiho from all her worst enemies: the evil magicians who wanted to use her and also, herself.

That was a bit heavy so let’s move back to the brighter side of the road.

By that I mean, Akiho’s adorable blushing face! キャー❣️❣️ 😆 💕

Oh, Kaito has really gone and shot that arrow 💘 straight through the little Queen’s heart without realizing it 😂 I mean, look at them! He’s already moving on to the next step of today’s itinerary while she needs a moment to remember how to breathe, lol

But it’s no surprise why that got her heart all ドキドキ-ing 💓 like mad.

After all, Kaito knows exactly what to say when Akiho needs to hear it the most.

Sure, a compliment about her looks or abilities might generate a similar response. But remember that Akiho doesn’t do well with direct praise. She automatically rejects it because she’s still suffering from low self-esteem so she can’t readily believe anything that good about herself yet.

But when someone (namely the guy she’s in love with) makes her insecurities vanish with just a few words of reassurance?

*snaps fingers* 🫰❣️

Yep! He’s the DA ONE alright. Who else knows what she��s been through and has done that for her? Who else could do that for her? Nobody but him.

Him!

He’s THE ONLY ONE~🎶 ONLY ONE~🎶 🎤😫💕

Moving along, we are now at Act 2 of YunaAki in this chapter.

Look at Akiho! She’s so cute! 😆 💕 This must make her so ecstatic cuz she never had friends over before.

But since it is the first time this has ever happened for her, she’s also got a case of nerves.

See those sweat drops above her head in the panel on the left? Yea, I’m surprised I never noticed them until now. IIRC in the anime, it wasn’t shown either so I guess there’s that distinction between the two mediums. Where the manga makes everything look cuter with more beady-eyed chibis, the anime just lets them look normal.

On the other hand, while the manga art manages to show it well enough despite being limited to only black and white, the anime does have an advantage in lighting because it can use more colors to illustrate the setting. And that’s important to this observation about YunaAki as well. But I’ll talk about it more when I review the anime episodes since it doesn’t really fit in well with this post.

Anyways, back to Akiho. She’s happy that her guests find her home pleasant (yay! they like it here! 😄) but is still a little nervous cuz ahhh, how do you respond to that?? What do you say in a situation like this? She’s not sure cuz once again, she's never had friends her age to hang out with before.

Fortunately, Kaito comes in with the tea cart, ready to serve refreshments and saving her from needing to say anything.

“Relief” isn’t the right word to use in the panel on the right but it seems his presence does help clear away the sweats above Akiho’s head.

So I like to believe that having him near helps calm her down. Or at the very least, it helps distract her from what makes her restless.

And I’d say Kaito does a very good job of distracting not just Akiho but anyone with an appreciation for skill.

Cuz look at how meticulously he prepares their tea! Warming the cups beforehand and timing the brew. He is an expert at it! 😊✨

He does everything with such care and precision even though he doesn’t have to. The job that was assigned to him by the magicians was to monitor the artifact, not entertain Akiho (and her friends).

But he does it anyway. Instead of just bringing in the tea and letting the girls handle the drinks by themselves, he goes the full yard to pour it for them hot and fresh from the pot. He serves them a proper afternoon tea, he shows them proper hospitality.

He even went as far as preparing cake to pair with the tea! 😃✨

And really, for something that looks as aesthetically pleasing as it is amazing to taste…

(bruh, even the resident ojousama was surprised that this didn’t come from a bakery)

You know Kaito must have spent a lot of time in the kitchen perfecting every aspect of it. Not just this cake but all those bento boxes he made and all the cooking he did for Akiho as well.

He wasn’t required to but he found a reason to. He did it so that it would make Akiho smile. He did it so it would please her friends which would then make Akiho smile.

Aww~ 🥹❤️

Then in this panel, their reactions to Sakura’s embarrassment are pretty much identical.

In the anime, only Kaito’s expression was shown but he didn’t look nearly as confused as he does here alongside Akiho.

Going by their expressions, it’s almost like they’re thinking the same thing:

“Eh? What was that?”

“Is she okay?”

“Are these the sounds they make in Japan?”

Yea? 😅

Maybe this wasn’t intentional but there is some truth to it that people’s mannerisms and behaviors rub off on each other the longer they’ve been in each other’s company.

So this would be another indication of the length of time Akiho and Kaito have been together as well. They have similar sights because they’ve already shared a lot of experiences while traveling together.

Moving along, when Kaito clarifies that he was the one who made the cake, Akiho starts nodding so proudly at him while her face is sporting a full-on blush.

Like she wants to say “Yep, that’s my Kaito-san, alright! He’s so cool and amazing, isn’t he? Mhm mhm mhm!” nodnodnodnodnod 🙂‍↕️😄💖

It’s so precious how she wants to show him off 🤭 but it leads into something a little sad about the next few panels.

As I mentioned before in the chapter 9 post, when it comes to other people, Akiho is so quick to applaud them for their talents and virtues. Meanwhile, she acts like she’s highly allergic if anyone tries to point out her good qualities.

She is very similar to Kaito in that regard, who is afraid to accept love because he doesn’t believe he deserves it.

Except he deflects differently than Akiho does. Akiho would shake her head and loudly refuse compliments with her whole body. On the other hand, Kaito’s more calm about it. Maneuvering his way around the gratitude and awe he receives before downplaying himself and hiding behind his duties.

Like here, when Akiho explains with so much happiness in her expression that Kaito always makes her sweets, cooks for her and prepares her bento boxes by his own hand. This impresses the girls because yes, who wouldn’t think it was awesome that Akiho is so well taken care of?

But he replies with a modest “いいえ” (“not at all”) and says this damn line…

It is my job, after all.

This line. This line is probably one of the many banes of my existence.

Not just because of how infuriating it sounds but, after years of watching and rereading this scene over and over, I realize there are actually layers to what Kaito meant when he said these words.

On a first impression, our reaction to this line would be like Akiho’s.

Disappointment.

Because her feelings for Kaito are so obvious and she so openly appreciates all the kindness he’s shown her only for him to answer back with “I’m just doing my job”.

Making us think there’s no deeper reason for it, that this is what he’s being paid to do, that he doesn’t have any special feelings for her.

Except that couldn’t be more wrong. Oh so very, very, very wrong.

Now that the story has concluded and we know the entire truth about why Kaito did what he did, the word “job” takes on a whole other meaning.

And in order to understand what that meaning is, you have to put yourself in Kaito’s shoes.

When you hear “job”, you think of his occupation, his employment.

But when he says “my job”, it’s his shield and his motive.

He uses his job as Akiho’s attendant to block out questions about himself. To keep anyone from digging further into him because what lies behind that perfect customer service smile is his guilt.

The guilt of saying the wrong thing (“like a blank book”) and unwittingly gave the idea to those magicians to implant the artifact in Akiho. The horror of realizing that an innocent little girl was going to lose her soul, her life, because she had no powers so those monsters determined she could only exist as a container for their greed.

Kaito couldn’t allow that happen so he took responsibility to get Akiho out of there. Away from them as far as possible. Not just across countries to a place where those magicians can’t reach her but to be rid of the influence they had over her as well.

That’s why he’s always, always, always telling her not to think so lowly of herself. Why he’s doing all these “extra” things to keep Akiho’s spirits up and make her smile. And saying my job this, my job so that she would never learn the truth that could potentially destroy her and let the artifact take over.

What everybody thought he meant by “my job” was “just taking care of things for Akiho”.

What Akiho’s clan and the Association thought he was going to do as his job was “make sure the artifact comes to completion for us”.

But what Kaito sees as his job, his most important task above everything else, is to make sure Akiho gets the quality of life she couldn’t get in that toxic world she was born into.

“It is my job (my responsibility to treat her well. To let her know that she should be treated well. To protect her and make sure she’s freed from her abusers once and for all. To ensure she will be safe from harm and live a long life and grow up healthy and normal. I want Akiho-san to receive all the happiness she deserves and I will do everything within my power, give everything I have, so that nothing stands in the way of that. Otherwise…how else am I going to make it up to her for all the suffering that I caused?”

…but you didn’t, Kaito.

He wasn't the one who did all those terrible things to her and yet he still gave so much so Akiho could truly have a life to live...

<— Previous: Chapter 9

Next: Chapter 13 —>

#f*ck I'm crying again #sorry for ending the post like this #i don’t think there will ever be a time when I’m not emotional over them #but i’m glad i’m looking back on it now and writing this all out #i think it does something for me too #shinomoto akiho #yuna d. kaito #yunaaki #akiyuna #yunaaki moments collection {manga}#🕰️🌾#🌾🕰️

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taradactyls · 4 months ago

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Sorry to highjack your post with an essay, but there's actually a common misconception here that I really want to breakdown.

One of the things that it isn't easy to notice these days is that Jane and Bingley actually are a commentary on love and society in exactly the same way the other couples are. It just isn't as obvious because the expectations and discussion over how people are meant to behave when in love has vastly changed in two-hundred years.

Jane exemplifies a common standard for young gentlewomen of that era: be demure (but never cold), friendly (but not too friendly), reserved about your true emotions (but always pleasing to everyone), appear grateful for every civil interaction a gentleman offers you (but never seeking or desperate for them), etc. She's beautiful, yes, and unfailingly kind, but her 'perfection' for contemporary readers would've gone far beyond that.

Because in many ways, Jane is the perfect gentlewoman. All those impossible virtues of good sense and perfect goodness and eternal gratitude and elegant grace are united in her. And in the Jane and Bingley love story Austen asks the question of how that behaviour, however generally admirable, can function in reality and then explores some of the drawbacks.

We actually see Charlotte allude to this directly in chapter 6. When Lizzy is happy that "Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent," Charlotte famously rebuts:

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on."

This exchange isn't just iconic (and, in my opinion, a mark of Austen's genius for all it conveyed), it's a debate about society and its ideals vs the reality in practice. Since society has changed readers tend to see it purely as a commentary on Jane/ justification for why Darcy interpreted her the way he did/ foreshadowing for Charlotte's own choice, but it wasn't only that. It was calling out some downsides to women being perfectly composed at all times when the man they're in love with is a decent guy who cares about things like 'whether his affections are welcomed' and isn't so self-centred as to not have doubts over how someone who doesn't reveal much might actually feel. It's actually a testament to Bingley's character and general concern for others that he doesn't just assume that 'of course she likes me, she's polite and friendly to me,' when doubts are raised. You know who wouldn't have doubts? Arrogant and self-centred people whose priorities aren't others and think only about what they want. Though not directly said in the text, the Jane and Bingley temporary break-up does call into question whether behaving in this admirable way might actually push away the most considerate and thoughtful suitors.

And though I know modern readers are very prone to judging Bingley harshly for not returning quickly to Jane, keep in mind we live over two centuries later in a far more individual-focused society with different values. In the text Lizzy, who we all know has no qualms about being angry at others, ceases to be mad at Bingley almost as soon as she receives Darcy's explanation. He's not condemned by either her or the text for being persuaded that Jane was indifferent to him, and Lizzy actually comes to believe it's understandable.

I think another thing we've lost with the passage of time is just how bad the Bennets could be seen as. While Mr Bennet lives they're rich, top 0.2% rich for England in that era, and yet the daughters will have next to nothing for their class/upbringing and weren't taught many of the housekeeping/economic skills they'd need for a realistic future. I've talked more in depth about what they should have been saving according to contemporary accounts and done some maths here and here but the gist is they should've easily been six times as rich as they are. Let's not forget the lack of education too. I said it in one of those posts, and I'll say it again, if you knew a top 1% family who were constantly flirting with bankruptcy and 2/5 of their children were barely educated you wouldn't be wrong for thinking there were some serious problems in that family. Then there's the social vulgarity/silliness, but that translates much better to modern audiences so I won't go into that anymore than to say that decorum was a BIG DEAL back then and who you were 'connected with' could very literally affect your standing in society. Darcy and Bingley's sister's were snobbier about it than they should've been, but the core reasons for concern were actually valid. Even Lizzy very quickly saw the justice in Darcy's logic once presented with the facts so bluntly.

Bingley noticed these things, as everyone sensible did, but he's just too generous a person for that to matter enough to stop him from wanting to marry Jane. It was only being persuaded that she genuinely was indifferent to him that made him put aside his hopes.

We should also keep in mind that it wasn't just randoms who were doing the persuading, it was Bingley's best friend (who is used to believing himself an authority on others - a flaw he has to overcome in the course of the novel) and his sisters (whom everyone considered close friends of Jane and who would've seen her more than Bingley). Their motives were jaded by prejudice but for many contemporary readers these would've been the most reliable advisors anyone could have in matters like this.

Given the delicacy of the subject it's not like he could directly ask Jane herself until the actual proposal, or even begin acting more markedly and hope she responds in kind (the impropriety of which is similar to what we see with Marianna and Willoughby in Sense and Sensibility). Even when Lizzy knows Bingley liked Jane, knows that Jane still feels the same and suspecting that he does too, she doesn't so much as think about giving him a hint when she sees him again in Derbyshire. It simply wouldn't be proper, it's up to his intimates to speak with him about it. So, if Bingley wanted an outside opinion Darcy and his sisters were it; and, on paper, they're very good advisors on the topic of whether Jane liked him.

In most situations it would be a massive character flaw to think 'I don't care what all my closest family/friends/her friends say, I'm going to persist in thinking this girl likes me against their advice.' Keep in mind they knew each other for six weeks and he's never even been alone with Jane. His sisters have though. There's also a commentary in there on the moral pitfalls of influencing someone at all (which is explored in far more depth in Persuasion) but Bingley is never called wrong by the text or characters for not jumping to the assumption that his friend's being an arrogant snob and his sisters are bitchy snobs. A rich man who recognises he can be wrong is a good quality even today, and if we think in contemporary terms (and remember he's only 22) I don't think it's at all unreasonable that he was persuaded.

Which brings us to his whole personality: Bingley is in many ways a perfect gentleman socially. Charming and civil to everyone, uniformly good-tempered, and other than offending one or two young ladies by not asking them to dance, commits no social sins. He's also praised for being friendly and obliging - the latter being another trait which, as Jane Austen does with Jane's praised traits, gets explored via its weaknesses. Arguably the novel is one long exploration of the weaknesses of various traits, most notably those in its title, but this is already too long for that tangent.

Bingley's also very new money. Outright called the first gentleman (remembering that that word meant something very specific about education, dress, behaviour, poise, etc in that era compared to today) of his family, and his father was in trade. In a time where the middle merchant class was still establishing itself as worthy of being treated with respect by their 'betters' (and the mere fact of Darcy's close friendship with Bingley is the first clue that he's not as arrogant and snobby as Lizzy believes) his perfect upholding of an amiable ideal is a commentary in itself. Especially when we see Lady Catherine and Darcy, with their impeccable bloodlines, commit social faults arguably equal/worse to Mrs Bennet (herself not born into the gentry class and a negative example of social mobility to contrast Bingley's positive example) and Mr Collins. The highborn character who does embody appropriate social graces, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is interestingly not landed himself and needs an occupation.

Modern readers, without such a class based society which focused on social graces, are also less understanding of that 'obliging' aspect of Bingley's personality. But this was a time when, generally speaking, the richer and more important you are the more likely you are to get what you want and everyone else fell into line. It was so common that it wasn't even really critiqued heavily by Austen, some people were rich and had the means to do as they wished through money or social credit, and others followed if they wanted to be involved at all. We see this casually mentioned when Colonel Fitzwilliam says "I am at [Darcy's] disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases;" which also helps us understand that the Colonel probably didn't have the income to own his own carriage or easily rent one to travel (which was EXPENSIVE). That context, of rich men not only ruling the world but also getting to decide what other people (in the Darcy/Colonel Fitzwilliam case, even older and higher-born people - and Bingley was younger and new to the gentry) do in their leisure time through virtue of their wealth, is the context we need to view Bingley in. Though Darcy was undoubtedly more important Bingley was still 2-2.5x richer than Mr Bennet and thus everyone else in the neighbourhood excepting his friend - and yet far from being the standard rich man who began dictating the social scene and choosing what to do without consideration for others, he was obliging. He matched what others were doing, had consideration for them, participated as though grateful to be invited instead of entitled to it. His obliging nature is part of what sets him up as a true gentleman and far more worthy than others who only adopt some of the social graces and miss how it's meant to apply to their whole character.

His personality is actually a very interesting study in what makes a gentleman a gentleman, and argues that the real qualities which matter have nothing at all to do with connections or family history. It's also an analysis of what obliging personalities can fall victim to, even when they're sensible, as Bingley is said to be. His whole character ties in directly (as does Wickham's more overtly) with Darcy and Lizzy's own journeys with true gentlemanlike behaviour and character. It's just not in a way which is at all easily noticeable to modern eyes without a background understanding of the society he functioned in, nor is it something directly depicted in the adaptions.

Anyway, sorry for the hastily typed essay and I hope I've convinced you that Bingley and Jane are an exploration of love and society just as the other couples are, and also a rather pointed social commentary on behavioural standards and changing class lines through social mobility. For all that Jane Austen's writing feels comforting and sometimes quite verbose, she actually fit an immense amount of commentary and meaning into every aspect of her books. Jane and Bingley are absolutely no different.

Today I understood why Mr Bingley is important for 'Pride and Prejudice.' Of course I've heard that he's Mr Darcy's foil and he helps us see that Mr Darcy lacks manners. And probably we need him to see a man whose character trait is quickly deciding to leave a place and who might never come back, and who also - I don't know - can easily get under the influence of his friends.

And I have always seen him as a very insignificant side character, and I never understood why there was even a need for him; like why Jane Austen of all people would write such a lacking(?) side character. He is not really a commentary on something. He's just fickle.

And was there even a need for Mr Bingley & Jane's love story? They're basically 'love at first sight, destined for each other' and they look quite out of place among the other three couples -- Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, Lydia and Mr Wickham, Charlotte and Mr Collins -- that are all a commentary on love and society.

Today I understood that had there been no Mr Bingley Jane would've married Mr Collins out of obligation as the eldest sister and that would have been a very different book that didn't feel like such a happy story by the end of it (my Mom calls it a fairy tale), had only one of the sisters (Elizabeth) landed herself a love match.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe there is an undercurrent to Jane's story that is about her being an angel and that their love with Mr Bingley is a dream that rarely comes true, I don't know. But still, apparently Mr Bingley is not as inconsequential a character as he has always seemed to be.

#I babble when I'm tired but hopefully that all made sense I'm not going to proofread it #my opinions of Pride and Prejudice and the writing and English degree strikes again #pride and prejudice #jane austen #charles bingley #jane bennet #jane x bingley #discourse #austen opinions

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cmipalaeo · 2 years ago

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I’ve been slowly making my way through Surrender. It’s a very good read, though I occasionally have to remind myself it’s Bono’s memoir (or autobiography? What’s the difference between those?) and not Bono writing U2’s memoir from his perspective. If the rest of the band’s presence is often sparser than I expected going in, that is more than made up for by the sense of love and true respect Bono conveys for them, and how he visualizes his role in the group — how lucky he thinks he is to work with Larry, Adam, and Edge; how his desire to push the band forward isn’t always constructive; the grace he feels they show him and the support they’ve always given him. Honestly, reading through it slowly over the last few weeks has heightened my interest in Songs of Surrender and hearing the reimagined versions of the songs, and (along with Edge’s and Adam’s recent comments) eased some of my anxiety about possible trouble brewing regarding Larry sitting out on the Vegas shows. I think the core thread of U2 being like a family, as cheesy as it sounds, really is true, and while worries about health and fitness as they get older aren’t really going to go away, reading Bono’s thoughts and reflections on what the band is to him calms my more apocalyptic (which is, of course, an enormously portentous term to use about a rock band) imaginings of their future.

In a similar vein, Bono’s adoration for Ali shines through unfailingly and with a candor that I can’t imagine is common in rock n roll relationships. Despite the honest love he conveys, though, I think I have to agree with something PJ said — that it’s Bob Hewson and not Ali who is the true, enigmatic heart of the book. Bono, with no shortage of self-awareness yet, I think, a rather admirable paucity of cynicism, spends a lot of time feeling around the theme of “men who have a fraught relationship with their fathers” and, maybe, figures something out about it for himself — though so far as I’ve read I don’t think he thinks that he has The Answer… or will.

I’ve also seen it said that the more “political” chapters about Bono/the band’s activism can somewhat disrupt the read or be a bit slow to get through, but much to my surprise I think they’ve been my favorite parts. Perhaps as I keep reminding myself that Surrender is The Bono Book and not The Secret History of U2, it became easier to engage with that material without feeling it was at the expense of backstage portraits of the artists as young (or older) men? Anyway, I think these chapters, like Sunday Bloody Sunday and Crumbs From Your Table, have the great strength of Bono getting to take off the gloves and really lay out his thoughts and motivations on his and U2’s activism, and his own philosophies behind it, long-form rather than providing soundbyte versions. It’s elevated my respect for this work greatly, and in particular reading in the sections discussing Jubilee 2000 and DATA about how Bono has come to work with politicians and businesspeople who I (and he) wouldn’t necessarily view very favorably has been quite moving for me somehow. I try to be optimistic but I don’t think I’m naïve — Bono may be the former and he certainly isn’t the latter — so maybe it just makes me feel a little better to read this stuff about finding common ground for real progress in the world with “the enemy”. Compromise and surrender are concepts that go hand-in-hand.

And, as a parting thought until I finish the book, Lights of Home was a real gutpunch to start with. I tried not to wonder too deeply in 2017 “what’s wrong with Bono” as it was put in a concerned topic on a forum back in my forum days, but I was always nagged a little by the infamous “brush with mortality”… having Bono bring it out into the open, clinical light — though still without diving too far into it at the expense of all the poetry — made me shiver.

“I was born with an eccentric heart”…

#Bono #U2 #Surrender #is this rock n roll?

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thedevillionaire · 3 years ago

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Cerberus and Kia of course! 🖤

7. How does your OC feel about nose blowing?

And as a personal addition, how do you feel about it?

13. How does your OC feel about germs?

24.If your OC has any supernatural abilities, do illness or allergies affect these abilities?

How does your OC feel about nose blowing?

Both of them are entirely unconcerned about the act itself. Cerberus was raised to consider it more polite than sniffling, actually, so if anything he can tend to be a little lax about it, heh. He will nearly without exception excuse himself and/or apologise about it, though - he's unfailingly polite about this sort of thing. Kia would rather not, but she's not embarrassed about it. Neither would even consider not blowing their nose if they needed to. Me? If I can avoid it in front of others, I'd prefer to, but having said that, I'd rather blow my nose in front of others than sneeze in front of them...by a lot. I personally am an outstanding stifler and/or disguiser of snz, if I fail to psych myself out of sneezing in front of others at all. And in terms of witnessing nose blowing, I can actually get off on it if it's done well - to my tastes, that is. As with snz, I'm very audio-based. Just please no honking, basically. How does your OC feel about germs?

Cerberus is very hygiene conscious but not what I'd call germaphobic. He's generally a very tidy person, he keeps his surrounds spotless, for the most part, and he would rather not be exposed to someone's obvious contagious symptoms if he can help it. Hell, he usually opts for tissues over handkerchiefs due to the hygiene factor of immolation post-use, despite handkerchiefs being more in line with his aesthetic, lol. But. If the sick person is someone he cares for, he's not overly concerned about them getting him sick. He expects not to catch it, for a start - he knows he's got a strong constitution and he is, as Kia has pointed out to him, a bit of a hopeless optimist in that he expects what he wills to manifest. (This is why he gets so annoyed that he can't defeat a cold through willpower alone. On some level, he genuinely expects to.) Kia's way more haphazard about this sort of thing. She's just...not worried about it? She's not deliberately unhygienic but she's certainly a lot messier in general than Cerberus. She doesn't get nervous or uncomfortable around sick people. She's such a consummate caretaker - her thoughts and actions will always be about caring for her friend/lover who's sick than about her own risk. But she's also not prone to illness - though in her case, it's probably due to built-up immunity from repeated exposure, heh.

If your OC has any supernatural abilities, do illness or allergies affect these abilities? (And here I veer from the popular trope of "sneezing makes powers Go Awry", sorry, fans of that thing.) No. No more so than illness or allergies affect any other ability that they have. In the very rarest of circumstances, a particularly badly timed sneeze could result in a directed magickal intention or casting miss the mark or fail to be completed at all, but...in the same way as "probably better not to sneeze while carrying a full cup of tea" sort of thing. The icestrike stopped Cerberus using Fire for a bit, but that was for his own recovery, not that he wouldn't have the capability to wield his powers. He would have, but doing so would have resulted in relapse on his part. But the wielding itself? Unaffected. A bad allergy attack would delay most wielding of things, but...look, he's really, really good at this stuff. He only needs a quarter of a second to reduce somebody to ashes if he wants to. If he can form a thought, he can get it done. So even birchbark wouldn't stop him, if he had the intent. This is not to say he hasn't experienced the magickal equivalent of spilling the full cup of tea, though. Just...very, very rarely. He'd be more likely, if he was in the process of doing something powers-wise and realised he was going to sneeze, to abandon the process of whatever he was doing and get back to it after the fact. In the same kind of way as, say, if he was writing a letter or something, and paused the writing to sneeze, then got back to business. Like that.

#thank you so much for the asks!#cerberus and kia #i know a bunch of people are keen on the 'snz makes powers go wild' thing #but...nah it's not one for me i'm afraid

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memxntomxri · 4 years ago

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νιℓℓαιη

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - akaashi, bokuto, timeskip!kenma, sakusa x gn!reader (separate)

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - when you're the clingy ex

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 0.5k

𝘵𝘸 - clingy exes and done-with-you boys

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - based on maisie peters' song villain, give it a listen for the vibes

AKAASHI is unfailingly polite, even when you’ve “graced” his front door so many times the past week he wonders if you just trace the familiar route to his home after work. He calls your best friend—he still has their number even though he’s been out of their life for months, no, years, now, because he’s still worried about you, but only out of courtesy of course as you’re bitterly reminded as you watch her arms snake around his back as he rebuffs you once again. “Y/N,” he sighs, “you need to let go. This isn’t healthy.” God do you know that this isn’t good for you, opening the wound and lathering salt over it over and over like this, but you can’t just let go—because unlike Akaashi, you actually thought the love you shared would be the love of your lives.

BOKUTO is apologetic—so apologetic, that it’s almost enough for you to let go of him and let him be happy. It’s funny how whenever you show up at his home you end up feeling worse than him for burdening him with your emotions again. So you try, you try so hard to quit this drug you’ve become addicted to and have to now quit cold turkey because Bokuto met the actual love of his life. But of course, because Bokuto is like the sun and has so much presence that it’s impossible to fill up the space he left behind, you fail, over and over again. So you show up day after day, waiting for him to open the door and break your heart, because it’s the only way you still know how to go on.

KENMA acts like he doesn’t care—and he doesn’t. But because he can’t let you make a scene, especially because he’s a public figure with a real following who still remembers his ex, he gets you home safely, oftentimes by himself because Kuroo’s working and he wouldn’t ask his current partner to take care of you, of all people. Kenma feels slightly bad, of course. He really meant it when he said that you didn’t need to worry about them, but sometimes, life just happens.

SAKUSA is cold towards you. After all, why shouldn’t he be? You’re broken up now, and you need to accept it. He owes you nothing. The only reason why he calls your friends to pick you up when you inevitably come around to harass him again is because he has some human decency, despite what you like to accuse him of when you’re drunk. Still, that’s all you’re getting from the man who used to swear you were all he needed, because Sakusa’s just not yours anymore.

taglist: @sunarent @laineeey00 @ninjamomo @moonlit-island @sunarinnieee @hinatasvertical @anime-central @arsonistmelancholicmenace @anime-central

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whumpmatsus · 4 years ago

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So. Todomatsu always ACTS like he hates that Karamatsu is so eccentric, but we all know he actually doesn't mind that much. If anyone else made fun of him for that stuff, I can't help but think he wouldn't let it fly. So what about a situation where Karamatsu gets made fun of/bullied/put down by someone OUTSIDE the family for being the way he be and Todomatsu gets an opportunity to go into full protective mode over him??

OH SHIT the youngest of them goes feral

dare I say... RELEASE THE BABY!!!!!

God I love Zaimoku, it’s so good <3

If Totty is being completely, utterly, unfailingly honest with himself, his brothers need his help if one of them is going to be going on a date.

Really, he’s the only one who has any clue about how to act on a date! He could hit his big brothers over the head with a Clue-by-four with that shit and they still wouldn’t really get it.

Even so… part of him thinks he shouldn’t really be following Karamatsu to a date. Karamatsu is the one Totty knows is never going to come running to him for advice or assistance, especially with girls; he’s got the undeserved ego of an avocado toast sandwich. Totty isn’t sure he’d be pleased to know his baby brother tagged along not because he has to sort out a schedule thing at work, but because he wants to keep an eye on Karamatsu.

What else is he supposed to do, though? Just let Karamatsu go alone and totally blow it? His usual behavior aside, Totty really wants his big brothers to be happy and have fulfilling relationships. He thinks if he can be there to keep an eye on things, well, maybe it won’t go so bad. Maybe Karamatsu will have a shot with this woman. Maybe he’ll get a girlfriend!

The very idea was enough to make him feel a little better about lying so that his brother will take him along. It eases his conscience, imagining that if he manages to help Karamatsu out to the point that the second eldest ends up in a loving, joyful relationship, (obviously as opposed to the past few horrible ones he’s had), then a little fib isn’t so bad, is it?

After all, if he were the one in need of something like this, he’d be grateful for his brothers’ help however they did it.

Of course, when he sees the look this girl gives Karamatsu, a look like the kind a baby gives after licking a lemon for the first time, Totty can’t help but wince. This isn’t off to a great start. He lingers by the counter, greeting Sacchi and Aida, trying not to look as if he’s watching his big brother’s date.

“Aren’t you off today, Totty?” Sacchi hums as she turns to start making a drink.

He nods. “Yeah, well, I can’t stay away, I guess, haha.”

Aida jerks her head toward the table where Karamatsu and his date are. “That’s one of your brothers, right? Still as painful as ever,” she teases. “Is he… oh, my God, he’s on a date??”

“Shhhh, shh!” Totty waves his hands a little, hoping to get his friends to quiet down a little. The last thing Karamatsu needs is to be drawing attention. “He thinks I tagged along to talk to you guys about my schedule. But, yes, he’s here on a date.”

Sacchi finishes serving her customer, one of the few in the shop at the moment, and then leans against the counter to look over. “Aw, good for him. He’s not either of our types, but he deserves a shot with someone who’s interested.”

He lets out a soft sigh. “Agreed there. I kind of just wanna keep an eye on him, you know? To make sure he doesn’t mess it up too much. He should have let me pick his outfit, ugh… that aside, he’s doing okay so far, though, I think.”

Aida frowns as she slides a cup of coffee toward her coworker. “Um, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s got his work cut out for him. I’ve been to some mixers with that girl, and she always finds something wrong with every guy she hangs out with.”

“She’s right,” Sacchi adds. “Good thing you came along so you can carry him home, ‘cause that girl’s gonna tear him to pieces. I mean, she went out with Atsushi and the next day he was in here crying and telling me she made him feel two inches tall. Nobody’s good enough for her.”

Aida clicks her tongue. “Your big brother’s in big trouble, Totty.”

It’s Totty’s turn to frown as he looks toward Karamatsu. Unfortunately, Sutabaa is so small and he’s close enough that he doesn’t have to strain too much to hear what’s being said.

The woman is laughing. However… Karamatsu hasn’t even really opened his mouth yet. “Oh, my God! You’re my date, huh? Last time I let my sister set me up. That bitch, haha. Ah, well… wow, your jacket is hurting my eyes. Could you take it off?”

Karamatsu seems to be trying his best to smile. “O-oh, yes, of course.” He moves to tug it off, folding it over the back of his chair. “Please forgive me. Anyway, my name is Karamatsu. And you, my angel?”

“Ahaha, WHAT?” The woman raises an eyebrow at him. “C’mon, dude. Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s angel.”

Totty feels himself starting to steam. You’ve got that right.

“A-ah… right, my apologies.” Karamatsu just keeps smiling. The expression on his face reads almost like he’s in pain. “Well, should we order?”

She gives a cursory glance toward the menu, then suddenly her eyes are drawn to Karamatsu again. “Oh, my God, hold on… is… is that your face on your shirt?! Holy shit! Are you really that full of yourself?”

Totty’s heart sinks as his brother’s cheeks flush bright red. This is not going well. And while, yes, Karamatsu probably should have picked a different shirt, what’s really wrong with what he’s wearing? Even though he’s a little over-the-top and dramatic, this woman can’t know whether or not he’s ‘full of himself’ when she’s barely letting him get a word in.

Totty is the most socially intelligent of his brothers, and even he doesn’t think Karamatsu’s actually doing anything wrong. He hasn’t drawn anyone else’s attention like he usually does, he hasn’t gone overboard with any poses, and he’s… kind of just being himself, slightly toned down. It’s not like he’s bragging or being a jerk. Hell, it’s just a strange fashion choice; how the hell does she think it has any bearing on what he’s like as a person?

“Damn,” Sacchi cringes. “She’s not wasting any time, is she?”

Aida gives a pout toward her friends. “He didn’t even do anything wrong yet. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

“Yeah, he’s just a little odd and, like, a tiny bit painful. But he’s acting really nice and polite.” Sacchi sighs as she props her head up on her hand. “There’s no pleasing some people. Aida, why don’t you go take their order? Maybe you can accidentally spill it on that pretentious top of hers when you bring it to them.”

“Pfff, if only. I’m on it, though.”

Totty continues to fume as he watches his poor brother try to impress this girl, pretty much in vain. He gets the feeling that nothing Karamatsu says or does is going to be good enough. For some reason, that really pisses him off. Despite the fact that Karamatsu can be a bit much, that he’s overcompensating for being insecure on the inside, that everyone rolls their eyes at him… Karamatsu isn’t a bad guy. He tries hard to make other people happy and treats them with respect. Even his brothers who don’t always return the favor.

By the point Sacchi and Aida are finished making their order, the youngest is ready to explode at this woman. She never even told Karamatsu her name, but she’s spent the whole time talking him down. When she asked what he did ‘besides be super excruciating’, and he told her he didn’t really have a job, she laughed at him. He tried to save it by saying he occasionally played guitar at coffee shops, and she responded something along the lines of, “What kind of hipster loser does that these days??”

Listening to it just makes him so angry. She doesn’t think Karamatsu is attractive, she’s called him embarrassing more than once, and no matter what he does or says, she’s not happy with it. Why the fuck did she even bother going out with him, then?

Totty was worried that Karamatsu was going to screw this up; so far he’s actually managed to be a decent date. He wasn’t prepared for his brother’s date to be the shitty one.

Sacchi brings him a simple iced coffee while Aida returns with the serving tray, a fake smile on her face from laughing uncomfortably at one of the woman’s comments. “God, she’s exhausting.”

“I don’t even know her and I can’t stand her,” Totty mutterrs before taking a sip of his drink. “Why the hell is she treating him like that? He’s just… being himself!”

Being himself. Karamatsu’s really not doing anything wrong. He’s trying to talk himself up when this woman gives him a chance to, but who doesn’t talk themself up on a first date? He just wants to impress her.

It makes Totty feel a little guilty to realize that, honestly, all Karamatsu really wants is to impress everyone because he wants people to like him… including his brothers. If Karamatsu feels the need to seek love and acceptance from strangers like this girl, to the point that he’s willing to put up with the horrible way she’s treating him, what does that say about his brothers? It’s not the first time he’s sucked it up and dealt with something he shouldn’t have from someone just because he wants that person to love him.

His attention is drawn by the woman giggling a little too loudly. “Fuck, you wanna go out with me again? I mean, how do you think this is going? I’m two seconds away from sneaking out the bathroom window. You’re so obnoxious, you dress like an edgy middle schooler, and who wears sunglasses inside, especially when it’s raining outside? You’re, like, cringe incarnate.”

Completely contradicting every statement she made, she slid her hand across the table to take his, if only for a brief moment. The wicked look in her eyes, more sadistic than even Ichimatsu, made Totty’s stomach twist in anger. “I might keep you around, though. You seem like a guy who’d keep me laughing for a while. Maybe next time I’ll take you out with my friends so everyone can laugh at you.”

Oh, that’s it.

He doesn’t know if Karamatsu is oblivious to what she means because he’s blinded and deafened by the promise of another date, or if he knows exactly what she means but perhaps thinks it’s worth it. His eyes light up… and behind that hopeful spark is the pain she’s already put him through.

Baby of the bunch though he is, Totty isn’t going to sit around and twiddle his thumbs while some bitch takes advantage of his big brother.

“Oh, that is sooooo not happening!” he calls as he approaches the table. Although he feels a little bad about just stepping in like this, he’s not gonna let her get away with treating Karamatsu like that. Laughing at him herself was bad enough; parading him in front of her friends for all of them to laugh at him when there’s nothing wrong with Karamatsu isn’t gonna happen if Totty has something to say about it.

The woman gives him an unimpressed look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“T-Totty!!” Karamatsu, on the other hand, looks immediately panicked. “I can handle this… please, go back and fix your schedule, and I’ll meet you at home.”

“Wait, you work here?” She tilts her head at him. “Oh, shit, hold up. You’re the asshole who messed up my drink last time I was here.” Her gaze flits between the two of them, and she laughs again.

“― Oh, my God! You had to bring your twin brother along to come on a date? You’re pathetic!” Her hand pulls away from Karamatsu’s. “Oh, you’re definitely coming out with me and my friends.”

Totty hisses and pushes her hand away from Karamatsu’s. He steps in front of his big brother to physically block this woman from him. “Keep your hands off him! You’re not taking him anywhere. He’s never seeing you again, because you treated him like… like, fuck, I wouldn’t treat a rock the way you treated him!”

He hears Karamatsu make a noise of almost-protest behind him; he can just imagine the other man sinking down in his seat and trying to hide his face. “Totty, please…”

“No! No, she doesn’t get to just treat you like dirt, Karamatsu-nii-san! You think my brother’s just some kind of dumbass you can show off to your friends and laugh at and treat him like crap?!” he snarls. “Well, guess what? He may be sort of a dumbass sometimes, and maybe he’s a little painful, and maybe he’s not the perfect guy you’re looking for! But he’s a whole hell of a better person than you are!”

Although Totty could kick himself for not saying anything to Karamatsu before, it might be best it’s coming out now. He doesn’t have a lot of time to really think about it or pretend or rehearse. What he’s saying isn’t practiced, it’s real. “Karamatsu is the kindest person I know, and you wish you had at least half the passion he does for the things he likes! Who cares that he wears a shirt with his own face on it? He was bending over backwards to make you happy, even though everything out of your mouth was word barf about how embarrassing he is! And, by the way, you’re wrong!”

It only takes half a step for him to reach over to grab his coffee from the counter, assisted by Aida who’s smirking as she holds it out for him. “If my choice was between you or him, I’d be way less embarrassed to be seen in public with him than with you! He’s not perfect, but he cares about people, and he’s always there when you need him, and ― and all this stuff you think is embarrassing, who the hell gives a shit?! It’s what he wants to do and it’s not hurting anyone! I’d break my phone before I let my big brother go out with someone like you again! Maybe he keeps striking out with dates, but he’s never going to be that desperate!”

He feels a little bad about what he’s about to do. That feeling is mitigated by the fact that at least his coffee isn’t hot.

“And, you know, I actually am sorry about messing up your drink last time. So here, you can have mine!” Almost before he’s finished speaking, he’s dumped his entire cup over her head.

He doesn’t stick around to deal with the aftermath aside from seeing the look of abject horror on the woman’s face as the coffee makes her bad mascara drip. And even though there’s a little bit of guilt over the fact that he’s leaving his coworkers to deal with her, the fact that Sacchi and Aida are cackling while they gather up napkins eases his mind.

He grabs Karamatsu by the hand and leads him out, tossing his coffee cup on the way. There’s not much choice on Karamatsu’s part, except he doesn’t particularly look as if he minds that.

“You didn’t… have to do that, Totty,” Karamatsu mumbles. When Totty glances over, the second eldest looks more tired than anything. He knows that look; the exhaustion of something not working out, of thinking you had a chance only for it to all go up in smoke.

Totty huffs, marching the two of them in the direction that leads back home. “Of course I did! You weren’t going to do it, so someone had to. God… you’ve gotta stop letting people walk all over you, Karamatsu-nii-chan.”

The shift to the more affectionate honorific suggests to Karamatsu that this is really, truly something Totty cares about. He squeezes his baby brother’s hand with a thoughtful hum. “… If that’s the case, perhaps a romance for me just isn’t in the cards. I… really thought it was going to go somewhere this time.”

At last Totty slows slightly, from an aggressive pace to something a little calmer. He’s still pissed off that someone treated Karamatsu like that, and although he’s a bit upset that Karamatsu sit there and let it happen, he knows what it’s like to want people to like you so much that you’ll put up with nearly anything.

However, that’s also the reason he doesn’t want Karamatsu just putting up with it. He deserves so much better than to have people treat him like dirt. It’s not right to do that to anybody, but… especially not to Totty’s big brother.

“I’m sorry I kind of… tapped into Murder Totty in there,” he sighs. “Did I go overboard?”

Karamatsu shrugs. “Maybe a little. But I wasn’t truly enjoying myself and I didn’t want to go on another date with her. I just… didn’t know how to tell her no. I suppose I really am lucky you were there, too.”

Silence falls between them while they walk, then after a moment, Karamatsu clears his throat. “Totty… did you… mean all those things?”

“Huh? All what things?”

“Those things, you know… you said I was… kind and passionate and reliable.” He lets out a soft laugh. “You… you said you’d rather break your phone than let me go out with her again.”

… Oh. He. Did say that, didn’t he?

He pouts a bit, then squeezes Karamatsu’s hand. “Yeah, I meant it. Of course I meant it.”

Beat.

“But as much as I love you, I’m just glad I don’t have to do that.”

#Osomatsu san #whump #Zaimokumatsu #Karamatsu #Totty #emotional whump #TOTTY TO THE RESCUE!!!!#don't you dare fuck with any of his big brothers ESPECIALLY the most vulnerable of his big brothers #RELEASE THE BABY!!!

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years ago

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Bobby’s Playdate Part 2

Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Chapter 2 of4

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit @spooky1980 @ghostypau @viviennes-tears @lady-loki-ren

I am so sorry I took so long to update this! First I was distracted by a super busy week, and then I decided to rework what I had in store for it. It took a while to redo, but I have decided to make it a 4 part story. Hope you enjoy, and that the wait was worth it!

The day had started out like every other since the lock down began. Leia had slept late, having no where to go. A cold, wet kiss on her nose from Lulu woke her up when the pup could no longer wait to be let out and grumbling she had taken her out for a quick walk up and down the block. After two cups of coffee and some melon, Leia had realized that after three months of enforced solitude, both she and her dog had gotten decidedly surly. It was time to get out, even if it was only to the local park.

Lulu’s excitement when she took out the little pink and white checked dress had been enough to put a smile on Leia’s face. Really, the small dog was a ridiculous creature, but she could be such a bundle of sunshine. After they were both outfitted – Lulu in her dress and Leia in a comfy outfit and mask, they made their way to the nearby park, enjoying a leisurely stroll around the newly green paths. She wished that Lulu was not too timid to play in the dog run, but after spending a year in the shelter the poor thing was terrified of other dogs.

That was why she was so surprised when Lulu’s tale began to wag excitedly. Normally she would have been cowering and whimpering in fear at the sound of another dog approaching, but for once her reaction was completely different. She jumped up from where she had been snuggling on Leia’s lap and perked up her ears, tongue lolling out happily. When the chocolate spaniel came trotting around the bend, she even jumped of Leia and strained at the leash to meet him.

Keeping a tight hold on Lulu’s leash, Leia let her eyes travel up the lead attached to the strange dog. It was quite a long trip, as it happened, past a pair of long legs in torn jogging pants, a faded shirt that would once have been bright blue, and a plain black mask until she got to a set of smiling blue eyes that made her heart stop.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, “I promise he is completely friendly.”

She had known who he was instantly, of course. No face mask could disguise those cheek bones, the copper curls that brushed his collar, or the baby blues that had sent a million fan girls swooning. If she had had any doubts, one word from that sinful voice, a verbal caress of polite friendliness, would have stamped it out. She had seen almost all of his movies, after all, and quite a number of his promotional appearances as well.

“It’s okay, so is she,” she replied struggling to keep her voice normal and grateful for the mask that hid her stunned initial gape. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

And then Tom Hiddleston – The Tom Hiddleston! – had sat down on the bench next to her while she petted Bobby and struck up a casual conversation! She had kept her eyes on the pups at first, afraid that if she looked at him, he would see the excitement and intimidation in her eyes. He introduced himself, needlessly, of course, and she gave him her name in a kind of daze. She realized that he had only provided his first name and had the quick flash of insight that he might be enjoying the idea of anonymity. If that were the case, she would not want to spoil it for him by gushing. Uncertain of what to do, she let the obvious joke about her name lead her to mentioning Marvel characters. That way, she decided, he would have a segue to talking about his career should he want to. When he let it slide and quickly changed the subject, she decided that her assumption must have been correct.

Which was absolutely fine with her! She was sitting and talking to Tom Hiddleston! While she would, of course, love to pick his brain about Loki, or Shakespeare, or any of a dozen projects, she was more than happy to listen to him discuss his dog in that proud pappa voice. By the time she had told him the story behind Lulu’s dress excitement she was reasonably settled and could actually manage to look him in the eye without blushing.

She had met a few famous people in her time as a London tour guide, and many of them had been a colossal let down. Tom was not one of them. He was everything she had ever imagined or hoped he would be. Kind, funny, clever, a little prone to talk on about any subject he happened on, but in all a delightful conversation partner. She was disappointed but not surprised when he had to leave, but she didn’t want to be too greedy; it was already one of the most magical afternoons of his life. When he mentioned running into them again, she almost squealed with excitement, just barely managing to keep her face impassive.

Thus began a fairy tale of month for Leia and Lulu. After two days of rain, during which she was certain he would forget all about her, they had found the boys again at the same spot. Leia half wondered if she were simply dreaming, but if so, she had no desire to wake up. They met up with Tom and Bobby most days, walking for hours sometimes as they discussed London, their childhoods, school. She learned quickly that he changed the subject instinctively whenever anything came up that might lead to his career. She could respect that. It must be hard, she thought, being always in the public eye. For her own part, Leia tacitly decided to keep the subject of her book a secret. After all, a fantasy story based on Norse Mythology, with Loki playing a leading role, was bound to bring up the sort of conversation he obviously wished to avoid.

As time went on, she began to forget he was a movie star and just think of him as her friend, insane as that struck her when she stopped to look at it. Oh, she was still absurdly attracted to him, but it was no longer for his stunning character portrayals or teasing banter with interviewers. No, the teasing banter she was interested in now was much more personal for her. He was delightful company, unfailingly polite, quick with a wickedly funny comment or a profound musing on life. In short, Leia was well and truly smitten. Hopelessly, she thought with a sigh.

When he invited her to his home, she could barely believe it. A casual acquaintance in the park was one thing, a dinner chez Hiddleston was completely different. She knew it was in large part for the sake of the puppies, and that was fine. Lulu was as besotted with Bobby as Leia was with Tom, only in this case it was obviously mutual. Leia would just have to be careful to guard her heart. She was not a part of his real life, and she needed to remember that, even if they never discussed it.

***

Bobby started barking seconds before the buzzer rang, his tail wagging back and forth at a frantic pace. Tom, scarcely less excited, gave a quick glance in the mirror before slipping on his mask and opening the door.

Leia stood on his doorstep looking even more lovely than usual. Her simple leggings and long tee had been replaced by a pretty, floral sundress in shades of red and yellow and her hair, usually tied up or back, was long and curling about her shoulders. Tom swallowed and tried to keep his eyes from doing too obvious an up and down of her body. It was difficult, considering the shape of her legs and amount of them showing. Lulu’s yip drew his eyes down to her, and he saw that she was dressed in a purple polka dotted number for the evening, her hair sporting several sparkly clips to keep her braids from coming undone.

“Hi, welcome!” he greeted them, straining to keep Bobby from leaping out the door. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thanks,” she smiled with her eyes as he ushered her inside.

“You found the place alright?”

“Your directions were perfect,” she assured him, glancing around at his newly bare entryway. “It’s quite the posh street you live on! I don’t think I’ve ever been into one of these houses.”

“Oh, it’s just like any other home,” he said modestly, feeling stupid as he did. His house had an electronic gate (that he had left unlocked for her) and a private surveillance system. He knew it was not the usual home. “I can give you a tour later if you like.”

“I’d love that. Whatever you have cooking smells delicious!”

“Thanks. I’ll have to check on it in a bit. For now, though, why don’t we go out back? I have some drinks chilling.”

He gestured for her to proceed him and subtly steered her past the kitchen and living room and out the sliding glass doors into the back. The yard was pretty, a nice square plot with flowers growing along the fence on three sides and one large tree giving shade. A table with four chairs and a grill stood on a little stone area, and Tom had set it up with a selection of glasses for beer, wine, and mixed drinks. A pitcher of iced water stood next to a bottle of dry rose in an ice bucket, and another small bucket contained iced beers.

“Here you go, Bobby,” he unleashed the spaniel who instantly tore off around the yard, looking for his favorite toy. “Why don’t you two have a nice frolic.”

“Oh Lulu, this will be fun!” Leia cooed to her pup, also removing her dog’s leash.

As the little dog scampered off after Bobby, Tom took a deep breath and turned to her owner. Now was the moment he had been waiting for.

“I suppose since we are alone and outside and all… as long as we stay six feet apart… would you mind?” he gestured towards his mask.

“Not at all. Oh, and I got my negative test results back. I have a copy on my phone if you want to see them!” she offered.

“No need, I trust you,” he was quick to assure her. “I got mine as well.”

It was strange – until a few months ago he would have felt tremendously awkward wearing a mask around another person. Even when he had needed to wear one for a few scenes in Only Lovers Left Alive it had seemed tremendously cumbersome and rather silly. Now though, Tom realized that he could not remember the last time he had been around another person without one. There was something shockingly intimate in the act of taking it off in front of Leia, and he found himself feeling almost shy. Blushing a bit, he unhooked the straps from around his ears and took the fabric from in front of his mouth, setting it on one of the chairs.

His eyes fastened on her as she reached up to do the same, the red mask peeling away to reveal a small bow of a mouth, pink lips curved in a slight smile. Her chin was slightly pointed and had a cute little half dimple to one side. Smile lines were just barely visible and added to the appeal of her face. It was a very kissable mouth, he decided.

“Hi,” he said, rather fatuously, face breaking into a sheepish grin. “I’m Tom.”

“Hi Tom,” she smiled back, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’m Leia.”

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, until he cleared his throat and pointed to a chair.

“Please, have a seat,” he managed to say. “As you see, I have wine, beer, water, or I could make you a cocktail if you’d rather. Or lemonade if you prefer a soft drink…” he realized he was babbling and cut himself off.

“Wine would be nice,” she said, sitting down and crossing one long leg over the other, giving him a lovely glimpse of her thigh.

“Right, wine it is,” he said, uncorking the bottle and grabbing a glass. “I hope it’s alright. My sister loves this brand, she brought it when she was here last, and it is better than anything I would have known to get.”

“Not a wine guy?” she asked, accepting the glass from him.

“Oh, I like a good hearty red with a steak now and then, and I will definitely have some with dinner tonight – I hope you like Italian, by the way – but for casual drinking, I’m more of a beer or scotch fan myself.”

While he prattled on Tom opened up one of the beers and poured it into a pint glass. When the foam had gone down a bit, he raised the glass and tilted it towards her.

“To deepening new friendships,” he dared to say, eyes finding hers.

They clinked their glasses, and he took a long sip of the hoppy beverage, hoping he hadn’t over stepped.

“To embracing human interaction!” she added. “Selectively, of course.”

Well, she obviously didn’t recognize him. That was a relief. He had been half worried that she would shriek, or become tongue tied, or worse. It was remarkable to him how many women seemed to have extreme reactions to meeting him. He was so ordinary! Just an overgrown ginger kid from Wimbledon. It wasn’t like they were meet Daniel Day Lewis for god’s sake. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling the tiniest twinge of disappointment. He worked hard at his job, after all, and was proud of the reputation he had developed and of the work he had done. It was strange, with how up on everything Leia always seemed, that she didn’t have any knowledge of Marvel at least, or The Night Manager. Still, some people didn’t watch a lot of movies and TV, or if they did it was more intellectual fare.

They both leaned back in their chairs and watched the dogs play chase back and forth. Tom found his eyes drifting back to her, staring at her mouth. He had never realized just how much a person’s mouth said about them. Leia’s smiled as a default, giving her a more youthful look than she had when it was covered. There was something fresh and approachable about her that he was drawn to.

The conversation was light and easy. Neither of them had been doing much of anything lately, so they resorted to telling older stories from their childhoods. Tom was amused to think of Leia playing with her friends, insisting that no, she wanted to be Han Solo despite what her thoughtless parents had named her. Tom, of course, had wanted to play all of the characters, and delighted her with his spot-on Darth Vadar and Grand Moff Tarkin impressions.

“You were a terror, weren’t you?” she laughed as he described bossing his sister about the correct way to make the light saber noises.

“A bit, yeah,” he admitted. “Emma and Sarah would probably say more than a bit. They had it coming though.”

“I’m sure they would agree with that, too,” she said sarcastically.

“It’s not my fault they couldn’t take direction,” he grinned. “I’m sure you would have made an excellent Han Solo. With the proper lessons.”

“Perhaps you can make me your student after dinner, if we have enough wine,” she suggested.

He knew she meant it innocently enough, but he felt a blush creep up his cheeks at the image her words planted in his mind. Leia in a schoolgirl outfit, bent over his desk flashing through his brain was enough to make him reach for his beer and gulp down more than was advisable. She seemed to realize after a moment, as she too reached for her glass and took a long swallow.

Lulu chose that moment to break away from where they had been digging around the tree and came running over to them, something grimy hanging from her mouth.

“What have you got there, peanut?” Leia sked, sounding a bit relieved.

“She seems to have unearthed one of Bobby’s treasures,” Tom smiled, glad of the distraction himself.

“Here, princess, you want me to throw it for you?”

Leia held out her hand and she happily dropped the toy into it. Tom looked at the toy and felt his jaw go slack and his eyes frantic. It was Loki. Of course it was. One of Bobby’s favorite toys, naturally, given to him during the lead up to one of the movies, the thick ropes of green and gold formed a long God of Mischief chew toy/tug of war combo, complete with horns. Tom licked his lips, glancing quickly at Leia, only to see that she was smiling down at her fluffy pup.

“Oh, Lulu, Look! It’s just like yours, only a bit more loved,” she said with a laugh. “Good girl, saving the handsome prince from a shallow grave. Loki never stays dead for long!”

With another laugh she took the toy and threw it across the yard, Lulu and Bobby both quickly scampering off after it. Tom gaped at her, uncertain what to say.

“You must have a lot of those,” she commented off handedly.

“You… you know?” he stammered.

“Know what?”

“Who I am?” it sounded stupid and conceited to his own ears.

“Well, I hope so since I’m in your home.”

“No, I mean you know what I do for a living,” he ground out, feeling like an utter ass.

“Of course,” she told him, quirking her lips.

“Since when?” he choked out.

“Since the first day. You’re not exactly easy to mistake, Tom.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I figured it must get old, people falling all over themselves around you, treating you like you’re not even human.”

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“So I took my cue from you.”

“I see,” he was completely flummoxed. “And you have a Loki toy? For Lulu, I mean?”

“Of course, he’s our favorite! Poor, misunderstood boy. You know, I am glad I have the opportunity to tell you now how good you are. And not just as Loki. You were breath taking in Betrayal.”

“You saw Betrayal?”

“Twice. Stunning work.”

He knew his mouth was opening and closing stupidly, but he couldn’t seem to stop it. She had known, all this time. She had been humoring him by not talking about it. He was not entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Tom is everything alright?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Was that why you talked to me?” he heard himself asking. “Why you agreed to come over? Because I am famous?”

“No,” she said slowly. “I came over because you asked, and because I like you. Yes, I was a bit star struck at first, but I got past it. Are you angry? I just assumed you realized.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I… I should go check on dinner.”

“Tom, really, are you okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Be right back.”

Turning tail, he fled into the house, mind in complete turmoil at the new turn of events.

#Tom Hiddleston #Bobby Hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Fanfic #rpf fanfic #rpf #tom hiddleston rpf #Tom Hiddleston/OFC #Fluff #Lock Down #slight angst #romance #dating in quarantine #future smut #flirting #puppy love #Bobby gets a girlfriend too!#adorable #Bobby's Playdate

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nikethestatue · 4 years ago

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Dreamland

Elriel Month- Day21

thank you to @123moiaussi for supplying the idea!

This is Fluffy Fluffington Fluff. But basically, it’s how Elain, Nuala and Cerridwen became friends

Dreamland

That’s what Elain called it. Her dreamland. A state of nebulous nothingness, where her head was an animal. A wild animal that could not be controlled. It was a landscape of visions, nonsense, lucidity, periods of terror, and periods of pleasure.

The pleasure came from when she was with the handsome one…what was his name? Azriel.

He was kind to her. Always. And such sadness in his eyes—she thought that they were green? They looked green, a lively forest-green—when he looked at her. Sadness, but not pity, exactly. There was understanding in his eyes, on that beautiful, but utterly cold face—like he knew her inside and out, and understood precisely what was happening to her, even if she didn’t know herself.

Moments with him was when she was the most aware. He was always unbearably gentle, taking her by the hand, like she was a little girl, and leading her out into the garden. Weather permitting, they’d sit together, in companiable silence, never needing to chat or annoy each other with words. He always worked. Truthfully, she thought that he worked much too much, with endless stack of reports that he was reading through, sorting them into different piles, sometimes drinking tea with her, sometimes, sipping on a whiskey. She liked it when he drank whiskey and sometimes, she dreamt that she could lick his lower lip and taste the bitterness on her tongue. When such thoughts crossed her mind, he always raised his eyes to her, a small, handsome smirk on his lips, his face changed somehow, amused.

One time, he was frowning. Something in the report that didn’t sit well with him. She didn’t know why she did it, but she reached out and pressed her thumb between his bunched brows and smoothed it gently, rubbing at it. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“Don’t frown,” she said. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

She made him laugh that time. He never truly laughed, not like that. But it was just the two of them, and he threw his head back and laughed. And maybe, she wanted to kiss his neck.

But he was absent a lot, and she sat by herself, waiting. Waiting for him. For her head to clear. She knew that when he returned, he’d seek her out. Why, she had no idea. Maybe she gave him peace.

He couldn’t possibly be interested in sitting with her, in silence. He was probably bored to death, shuffling through his papers. But…If he’d only known what it meant to her. That one person, one man—male—didn’t treat her like she was insane. Her sister thought that she might be. That read-headed male, who was her ‘mate’—whatever that meant—he thought that she was mad as well. The High Lord looked at her with some sadness, incomprehension. He also didn’t know. Even the tiny angry angel among them, she wasn’t sure either. Though her quick silver eyes were knowing, like she saw her the same way as Azriel.

When Azriel was with her, she left the dreamland.

He’d find her, and take her by the hand, and sometimes, when no one was watching, he’d thread his fingers with hers. His hand was massive, horribly scarred, and unfailingly gentle. She had thoughts about that hand as well, but she kept them to herself. She was engaged after all, and such thoughts were improper. But she couldn’t help herself. Those hands were magic.

They’d find a quiet corner in the townhouse and sit together, and it was a good day in Elain’s life. But then, he’d be gone again, and she’d return to the mental whirlpool of confusion and pain, until the next time. Until Azriel returned and took her hand in his.

It started with a cardamom bun.

Sometimes, Azriel and she ate together. Not meals. Snacks. He always worried that she was too thin, and she heard whispers among the others how they were concerned about her not eating. Azriel, true to form, never said anything to her, but when they drank their tea, he sometimes attempted to sneak something to her—a dainty finger sandwich, a scone, a pastry. Up until today, he was unsuccessful. She always smiled softly at him, but did not eat.

It was early, but Elain was awake.

Her head felt clear today, unusually so. She came downstairs and saw the shadowy twins working at the counter, preparing breakfast. She said ‘good morning’, and then, she felt him behind her. He didn’t touch, or say anything, and his steps were feathers-soft, but she knew. She always sensed him around her. Maybe it was his scent.

Today, he rested his hand on the small of her back, for the first time. It just rested there, touching lightly. She did not look at him, but stepped into the touch. ‘Good morning,’ he greeted all of them. He was always polite, and the twins liked him—Elain could see it—more than others. There was a special kind of relationship that he had with them, but Elain was too confused to discern the nature of it. He gently nudged her forward, towards the table and pulled the chair for her, before sitting himself across from her. Wordlessly, he extended his hand and she lay her palm across it, giving him a glance over. “You look beautiful today, Elain,” he said simply, as if they were discussing the weather.

Nuala set coffee and tea service on the table and then a basket of pastries, quiche, and smoked meats. Azriel poured Elain her tea, and then…she reached out and set a sweet bun on his plate. “Thank you,” he said a little stiffly. She wondered if she broke some protocol, some unspoken rule. “You don’t want it?” she asked awkwardly.

It was as if some strange internal battle was taking place, his eyes stormy, even if his expression remained stoic and unreadable as always. The twins looked at the two of them with the same unreadable, placid expression. He chewed his lip for a moment and then said, “Thank you. Of course I want it. But will you do me a favour?”

Elain nodded. She wanted to do him a favour. Anything he asked her, really. She’d do anything for him. As long as he held her hand like this.

“Will you eat for me?”

When she did not answer, he tried again, “It would please me very much if you ate with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

A pretty, sweet lie. Elain saw right through it. But she wanted to please him, and she was…hungry. Maybe for the first time in months, she was feeling a pang in her stomach, a clench of hunger. “Alright,” she agreed. He smiled that luminous rare smile of his and then placed a cardamom bun on her plate.

Elain sipped her tea and then bit into the bun, and it was a revelation. Suddenly, a new world opened up to her. The bun was pillowy and buttery, subtly scented with cardamom and lemon and as she chewed it, her head began to settle, and her taste buds awoke. She’d never tasted anything like this before—sweet and savoury, comforting and homey.

She didn’t know what ‘homey’ even meant anymore. Was it Greyson? It didn’t feel like Greyson. The bun didn’t feel like her old life, like the human lands. The townhouse? Velaris? Probably not either.

She raised her eyes and met a pair of forest-green ones. They watched her. They always watched her. Maybe this was home? Her new home, a dreamland inside those eyes.

“I’d like to bake,” she decided resolutely, surprising even herself.

Azriel looked at her and nodded, calm as always, like he was expecting this declaration from her, and then a quick glance at the twins. Perhaps an order? A command?

“We’d love to bake with you, Elain,” said Nuala at once, nodding as well.

“Bread, if possible?” requested Elain. The twins nodded in unison. “I’d like to learn to bake like you two,” she proposed. “And pasties. I have some recipes I can share, if you’d like.”

“Absolutely,” said Nuala.

“I make blackberry tarts,” Elain finished her cardamom bun, and then, found another one on her plate. Azriel was silent, allowing the females to talk baking. “They are quite good. It was my nanny’s recipe.”

“Blackberry tarts are Azriel’s favourite,” piped in Cerridwen, as she arrived at the table and handed Elain a folded piece of cloth.

She was rewarded for her unexpected honesty by a sharp look from Azriel, but she only shrugged and went back to the stove, to stir the porridge.

“Are they?” Elain looked at him shyly.

A small smile from him and he opened his palms to her, “They are,” he confirmed.

“Then I shall make you some,” she decided and unfolded Cerridwen’s gift. It was an apron.

Resolutely, she stood up, stuffing the rest of her bun in her mouth. “Then let’s make some bread,” she decided and tied the apron around her waist.

“You, madam, look like you are a beast with sugar and yeast,” chuckled Azriel, and the twins laughed as well.

Elain looked at the three of them—her friends. Her new friends. The four of them were friends.

Only later did she notice that Azriel did not eat the pastry that she had offered him and placed on his plate. She did not know why. But she vowed to make him something that he would eat, and enjoy.

So she stepped out of the dreamworld, never to return, and went to her new home, which smelled like fresh bread, tasted like blackberry tarts and looked like forest-green eyes.

#elriel #azriel and elain #azriel #elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elain archeron #elain x nuala x cerridwen #nuala and cerridwen #my writing #elriel fanfic #fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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fanfic-scribbles · 4 years ago

Text

Smile

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky gives you some reasons to smile.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, puns, cheesy jokes, so cheesy

Words: 3344

A/N: I’m going to admit it upfront, about 40 percent of the time spent on this fic was spent on writing it. The other 60 percent was spent on finding the jokes. Also, this story is semi-inspired by the fact that my face is not nearly as expressive as it feels (I basically look like the polite cat meme when I really try and I can’t do it for long before my face hurts too much) so this goes out to other people who get accused of resting bitch/asshole face. And get written up for it. Anyway, please enjoy this goofy little Bucky/Reader get together.

‘How do you make a tissue dance?’

‘Put a little boogie in it.’

Bucky snorts and coughs when he accidentally breathes coffee instead of air. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he texts back but Sam just replies with an obnoxious smiling face. Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his coffee. It’s actually not so terrible today.

He doesn’t hang out in a dive, but this coffee shop is a type of quiet he almost never sees in the city. It’s too far from the tourism path for convenience and just outside the neighborhood purview where there are many other local (better) favorites. It’s clean enough and decently sized, but it’s decorated like it was supposed to be trendy ten years ago and the place is barely staffed, to match its perpetually nigh-empty interior. There was a short-lived attempt at hiring another person, but after a ridiculous amount of turnover the owners, or whoever, apparently cut their losses and the only constants that remain are Bucky, the lone customer, you, the person actually working the counter, and your manager.

You’re nice. You always speak kindly to Bucky and, when you think you can sneak it, upsize his cup without comment or charge. Also, one time when his glove broke and slipped off, you hadn’t even commented on the arm; you’d even helped him stop panicking enough to see it hadn’t gone far and helped secure it temporarily with a rubber band.

Your manager, meanwhile, is a dick who glares at Bucky and once made a snide comment about him leaning too close to the register, and only talks to you in demanding barks. Like now– but the five minute “hushed” conversation is winding down and soon it will be safe for Bucky to go get his refill.

“I’m writing you up,” the manager says.

You jerk back in shock. “For not smiling enough?”

“It’s what we got marked down for, it’s what’s going on your record,” he says, turns on his heel, and retreats into the back to do jack shit. Bucky glares at his back as he goes. His harsh expression turns to a milder frown when he looks at you, hunched over and staring at the counter with a dead expression on your face.

He looks at his phone, looks at his empty coffee cup, and makes a quick decision.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks when he’s in front of you, startling you out of your stagnant misery. You look up at Bucky and after a second force an unnatural smile on your face. He winces on your behalf.

“Of course,” you say softly, and turn to refill the cup.

When you hand it back to him Bucky shuffles, hesitates, but finally asks, “Why are colds bad criminals?”

You blink. “Uh…why?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You blink again, and then let out a startled laugh. Bucky smiles slightly at the sound, and smiles more at the more natural, smaller turn of your lips as you say, “That’s…that’s a good one.”

“It’s pretty terrible.”

“All the best ones are,” you say, and the door chimes making Bucky break away. But as he watches you talk to the delivery man like normal he nods to himself. He leaves with his coffee to start the day and fires a quick text to Sam: ‘Where do you get your dumb jokes?’

The next day when the door chimes and you see your one regular customer, you let yourself smile a lot more naturally than you have been. Your face is starting to hurt and your boss is probably napping in the back, so you take the chance to relax.

“Hi,” you say. “The usual?”

“Please,” he says, polite as ever as he hands you exact change and you go to fix his cup. When you bring it back he asks, “What did the fish say when he swam into a wall?”

“What?”

“Dam.”

You giggle despite yourself. Bucky’s smile is small and guarded, but you haven’t had a moment yet where you haven’t been grateful to see it. Maybe this ‘smiling’ business is all it’s cracked up to be. If only it didn’t hurt your cheeks so much.

But as he tips his cup to you and goes to his favorite corner, you find you don’t mind the ache as much.

Every time he comes in now, he brings a new joke.

“What do you call a fake noodle?”

“An im-pasta.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

“It goes back four seconds.”

“Why did the bike fall over?”

“It was two tired.”

The delivery is fairly flat but there’s always at least the hint of a smile and, you don’t know, it might be his absolute seriousness that sells it, because every one of them raises your spirits. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you jokes. For anyone else you might think they’re flirting, but you don’t get that impression here. He’s handsome, always looks put-together in quality clothes even if they seem picked for comfort over anything else, and even before this he has always been unfailingly polite. If he wants someone, he has to have someone just as lovely. Right?

You can’t help but think about it even after he comes back. And the wonderfully terrible jokes, thankfully, don’t stop.

“Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

You keep pouring the coffee while you ponder an answer. “I don’t know,” you decide and lift your head as you hand Bucky his drink.

The way he smiles is very fetching– not quite a smirk, it’s a little too unsure for that, but it tilts up to the side and gives him a boyish charm that would make anyone weak in the knees. “Because he was a fungi.”

It makes a smile big enough for you to feel, but considering how self-conscious you are now you quickly tell him, “I liked that.”

“I know,” he says. “You smiled.”

“You can tell?” Maybe you aren’t as bad off as you thought. Or maybe he’s just being nice. But he seems honest, and he nods decisively.

“I get not being the most…expressive.” He shrugs. “But anyone can still see it, if they look.”

The implication that he cares enough to look stuns you both to silence. He ducks his head shyly and lifts his coffee cup in thanks before retreating to his corner. When you finally have working vocal cords again you say, “Have a nice day.” It might be the first time you’ve ever really meant it.

“What’s the opposite of coffee?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession as he goes from surprise to contemplation. He weighs your question with all the dramatic seriousness you could hope for before he says, “I don’t know. What is the opposite of coffee?”

You grin when you say, “Sneezy.”

His smile is bright and he nods his head. “Not bad, not bad.” He leans on the counter, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s…shockingly warming. You have to remind yourself not to get too close. He showed up out of the blue and he can be gone just as quickly. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he has any attachment here. In fact, you hope he doesn’t– you’d question his sanity otherwise. “Why did Mozart hate chickens?”

“I don’t know,” you say, eager to hear the answer.

“Because when he asked them for their favorite composer, they said, “Bach! Bach! Bach!’”

You laugh– that is, of course, when your supervisor pokes his head out of the back and scowls at you. He should be happy that you’re ‘smiling enough’ but you know full well anything you do is never going to be good. You freeze whatever expression is on your face as Bucky’s mood darkens and your heart sinks. “Enjoy your coffee,” you say, infusing meaning into every word. That ekes out a small imitation of a smile as Bucky raises his cup and goes to his seat.

Your supervisor starts to stalk over to you but you are saved by the sudden ringing of a phone, and he blessedly turns on his heel and goes to answer.

You sigh and start cleaning up the counter. Bucky is in his corner, hunched over and quiet as usual. He looks fine, but you feel bad for the interruption, even though you get the impression he understands. Still, this is one nice thing you’ve had in this otherwise miserable job and you’re not going to lose yet one more good person to your superior’s shitty attitude.

You push out a roll of receipt paper, scribble ‘Why did the espresso keep checking his watch?’ on it, and stick it in your apron. You walk over to wipe down an untouched table and, before heading back, make a little detour to drop it next to Bucky’s arm. He grabs the paper as you’re scooting away (plausible deniability in case your boss comes out) but it isn’t until you’re back behind the counter that you realize what that just looked like. Does he think you just dropped your number? He hasn’t opened it yet. Is he trying to figure out a way to let you down? You suddenly regret playing into this so much; he was just trying to be nice, he probably didn’t expect you to latch onto it so–

He opens the paper, reads it, and shoots you a little smirk. You breathe a sigh of relief and mindlessly wipe things down and rearrange well-organized creamers and straws until Bucky comes up for his customary pre-leaving refill. You’re a little disheartened it’s that time already, but it means you’re that much closer to the end of your shift, at least.

“Why?” Bucky asks quietly. It takes you a second before you remember the receipt paper and you surreptitiously check the back to see the door is closed.

“Because he was pressed for time,” you say quietly as you hand back his cup.

He chuckles. “I like it,” he says and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he adds as expected, but then he winks and you…you just stare at him as he leaves.

Should you have dropped your number?

A few days later, Bucky is caught off his guard and pays for it.

“What’s this?”

Bucky doesn’t get to his coffee cup fast enough and Sam snatches it and reads. “Sam,” Bucky grumbles but there it is, Sam’s eyes go wide and he turns that stare on Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky snaps and snatches his drink back.

“You’ve been using my jokes to hit on a dorky barista?” Sam asks and follows him across the room.

“I’ve been using jokes from the site you steal yours from to share with the nice woman who makes my coffee,” Bucky says and sits in a chair. He never stays for Sam’s group VA sessions and he should have left sooner, damn it. “I wouldn’t use yours. They’re gross.”

“Potentially inappropriate for a lady,” Sam says. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but, no, that’s exactly it, even though Sam’s tone implies something completely different from what Bucky would have said. “What’s her name?”

“Bucky?”

Steve has never been more of an actual hero to Bucky than he is right now. Right on time to walk back home with Bucky, Steve wanders in, sees the two of them, and stops. “Oh, should I…”

“Let’s g–” Bucky is immediately stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s got his eyes on someone,” Sam says, immediately centering himself as Bucky’s most hated arch-nemesis.

…Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky didn’t have real problems he would be.

“I do not,” Bucky grumbles, because he knows it’s pointless and Steve is immediately sitting in front of them and leaning in like he’s the last girl at the sleepover.

“Really Buck? That’s great!” Steve says. “Have you…are you going to make a move?”

“No,” Bucky says and quickly runs down the situation, hoping that it will clear things up but knowing his friends too well. Indeed, Sam and Steve share smirks before looking at him again.

“You’re a real hero,” Sam says, only partly joking.

“I hate you,” Bucky says, ducking his head down. He doesn’t really blush anymore, if he ever did, but the motion is instinctive.

“You don’t.”

“I wish I did.”

Steve grins, as does Sam, and Bucky wants to duck into a hole. Goddamn mother hens, they’re going to want to–

“Should we come by?” Sam asks and leans back in his chair. “Be real wingmen?”

“No,” Bucky says, harsher than he means to. Sam and Steve don’t look bothered– they’ve weathered worse emotional snaps than that– but they wait for him to explain and Bucky doesn’t know if he can. Because what if this is leading to something? Is he ready for that? He thinks he might like you, but would he be okay putting in the effort of getting to know you? What if he can’t handle it? What if Steve and Sam walk in and they’re all you see? Both of them are plenty distracting, and charming, while Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other, some days. And what if this isn’t leading to anything, you’re just nice, and it’s nice, but Sam and Steve find out and look at him with all the pity they can muster?

“I just…want to see it through. On my own. Whatever this is.” ‘Or could be’ he leaves unspoken, because hoping for anything still feels like too much.

“Okay,” Sam says first, because of course he does, but Steve nods along quickly. It’s enough to make Bucky exhale deeply and relax muscles he didn’t know he had tensed. He rolls his eyes and stands up to cover for it.

“You’ll keep us updated though, right?” Sam asks, an easy grin on his face as he lounges in the chair.

“Like I’ll be able to avoid it,” Bucky mutters, finishes his drink, and lets Sam know they’re okay by throwing the empty cup at his head.

The fact that you’re running out of coffee-related jokes is stressing you out. You wanted to keep on theme but too many more days of this and you’ll be scouring the internet for whatever jokes Bucky hasn’t used yet. There are some coffee-related puns, but…the ones you like carry a romantic hint to them, and you were hoping to save those in case Bucky showed any interest. So far you haven’t picked up on anything, but you’re also very oblivious, and your roommate thinks you’re an idiot and he’s obviously into you.

But he might not be.

You do what you’ve been doing since your boss snarked at you about flirting on the clock and get Bucky’s cup ready with maybe your favorite joke.

‘How did the hipster burn his tongue?

He drank his coffee before it was cool.’

And smile proudly at it. Your small handwriting is getting better– Bucky barely has to squint at it this time, and he gives you a conspirator’s smile when he slides his twenty-dollar bill across the counter at you, with the neatest print writing along the margins.

‘What do you call an alligator detective?

An investi-gator.’

It’s cute and you snicker to yourself as you gather his change and place it gently in his gloved hand. He doesn’t retreat to his corner right away, though, and shuffles in place. “I was…I just wanted to say…” But then his eyes glance to your side and his face freezes in an unfortunately familiar way. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says woodenly and raises his cup just so.

“Of course. Have a nice day,” you say as robotically as possible and watch him go. Your supervisor clears his throat pointedly and you pretend like the place isn’t as clean as it was since the last time you went around. But now you’re thinking. About how awkward Bucky looked, and how he mentioned wanting to say something…maybe…maybe he is open. To you. Potentially.

Tomorrow, you decide with a thrill of nauseating adrenaline. Tomorrow you’re going to bring it up.

The next day you arrive at the shop at your usual time in the pre-dawn cold only to find an extra padlock on the door and a note in the window.

You stare, dumbfounded, and read the note. You read it again. And again.

‘Out of Business.’

But nobody called you.

You immediately grab your phone and dial your supervisor’s number. When he doesn’t pick up you call it again because this cannot be real. The job was shit but it was a job, and you knew what to expect, and you’ll never see Bucky again, will you?

It takes almost half an hour for the asshole to pick up– or maybe more, as the sun is starting to show up– and upon answering, he snaps, “What?!”

“What happened?” you ask, just as unkindly.

Your boss grumbles unintelligibly but you wait. “Did you see the sign?”

“I was working yesterday; no one mentioned anything about this.”

“Corporate called last night.” He yawns loudly. “I tried to call you.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, but your tongue gets tripped up in anger and he says, “Sorry but there’s no room at the other branches for you, your last check is in the mail,” and hangs up.

You stand there for a while, trying to blink away tears at the sudden upheaval of your life. You should have found a replacement job while you had a chance. You should have asked your co-workers where they were going. You should have given Bucky your number.

You stand there for a little while, debating spending money you shouldn’t on a nice breakfast to wallow in, when the sound of footsteps coming up behind you makes you turn around.

“Oh, Bucky,” you say and rub your face. You think you’ve managed to hold it in, but it’s chilly and any exposed skin feels frozen.

“What’s going on?” he asks and peers around you at the note.

“Um…” You gesture uselessly. “Apparently this location is no longer in business. Just found out.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That asshole didn’t even call you?!”

The amount of anger on your behalf startles you. Startles both of you, actually, but just as he’s about to say something you laugh and say, “At least that asshole isn’t my problem anymore.” You sigh. You have savings, and the other job, and there’s always some other crappy job waiting for someone like you. But there’s something here that won’t be, and you pull out your phone and start typing. “Um…Bucky…there’s something I wanted to say to you. But it’s hard to say.”

“Okay?” he asks. You squeeze your eyes tight, brace yourself for impending rejection, and hold out your phone.

‘I like you a latte,’ followed by your phone number, hopefully gets the point across. After a few seconds your phone buzzes and you jump and bring it back, hoping no one texted you anything terrible while Bucky was staring at your phone.

It’s a new number, and the text reads, ‘It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you.’

You look up at him and he’s smiling, mouth parted slightly, and you start smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. But it’s okay. “I only had two more coffee jokes left before that line,” you confess and save his name to his number.

“Maybe you can tell them to me over breakfast? My treat,” he says and extends his arm.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Your treat this time,” you say, and link your arm with his. “In return, I’m going to show you where to get some good coffee.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he smirks at you. “The last place had its perks.”

Lacking a good comeback, you push your face into his shoulder to muffle your laughter. He leans into you, and doesn’t pull away even when you’ve gotten under control.

It’s the beginning of a brew-tiful relationship.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #avengers reader insert #captain america reader insert #fluff #stupid jokes (affectionate)#puns

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noemitenshi · 3 years ago

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Fluffbruary Day 8 & 12 - Quiet & warm

Prompt February 8: quiet AND February 12: warm (ok so this is a little unconventional but I combined two prompts since both fit very nicely)

Fandom: Fear the Walking Dead

Rating: T

Pairing: Troy Otto/Crazy Dog (Lee)

Summary: This takes place in an alternate universe where Taqa and Jeremiah are kings of neighbouring countries. As in the show they have a disagreement over land that is about to lead to war. Troy’s older brother, Prince Jake, negotiates a peace treaty with King Taqa which also includes a marriage between their families. To this end, Prince Troy has to assume the role of Princess, to marry the heir of Taqa’s kingdom, Prince Lee. Troy is less than amused by this.

Companion piece to the new princess, this time we see Troy’s impressions.

Title: The quiet prince

At first, Troy didn’t even notice Prince Lee. Made an effort not to. Made an effort to ignore him from the moment he came to his father’s court. He didn’t know what he had expected – hadn’t really allowed such thoughts, shut them down at every opportunity. But for some reason Troy still had thought that Prince Lee would be similar to King Taqa. However the fuck that thought had crept in.

Taqa was not easy to ignore – which was probably a good thing for a king. And he had sharp words, and a commanding presence. He wasn’t exactly uncooperative but unyielding in a way. And he wasn’t loud per se (though he did have a booming voice if he wanted to) but he definitely wasn’t quiet.

And Prince Lee… was. Not rudely so, oh no, he knew how to give all the right replies, all the right gestures, all the right expressions. As expected of a Prince. Troy knew all of it, too. He just refused to participate in this sham. But Prince Lee did. With his quiet calmness. And Troy couldn’t guess how the prince actually felt about the whole situation. He seemed neither enthusiastic nor reluctant about the marriage. Just like a true prince. A vessel for his king’s will. A puppet dancing to whatever tune was the good of the country. Quietly obeying.

Troy thought how unfair that Prince Lee got to be a prince, an heir with such a compliant attitude. An attitude that was much better suited to the princess role. And he, himself, was stuck therein. He, who never in his life quietly obeyed anything. He was much too headstrong. Liked being himself too much to be able to stomach making himself small for someone else. Not king, not country. And now he was expected to do it for this lackluster prince. Not that he would. Not that he did. To the regret of both Jeremiah and Jake.

But not to the regret of Prince Lee, it seemed. Which put a significant stump into Troy’s plan of being sufficiently rude and misbehaved so that the prince would call the wedding off. But… nothing. The prince never lost his slightly questioning expression, as if he couldn’t wait to hear what you had to say. As if all of it was so fucking fascinating – even if the topics couldn’t be more boring if you asked Troy. This polite curiosity never faded, not even when Troy was saying things just shy of offending the prince. Or well. Probably was very much offensive judging by Jake’s utterly horrified expression, which Troy savored.

In fact, Jake (and Jeremiah) taking Troy’s bait as easily as they did was the only thing stopping him from doing something truly stupid. Like making sure that quiet prince would stay quiet forever. But no. Even Troy knew not to do that. Even though he didn’t lack opportunity since part of the courting period did involve for the two intended to spend time together.

And even in this Prince Lee was unfailingly polite and at the same time quiet. Oh, not that he didn’t talk or ignored Troy. He did not – but nothing he was saying was of any consequence or meaning. Not that Troy wanted to have a meaningful conversation with him. Of course not! But it did make it difficult to find ways to annoy he prince. Though at this point even Troy had to admit defeat. There seemed to be nothing that could upset the prince.

So he listened moodily as Prince Lee prattled on about the differences in their royal gardens or cutlery or whatever else boring topic seemed to strike his fancy. And honestly! Who even cared?! But no matter what Troy replied, Prince Lee just seemed to take it as encouragement to explain further. It did not take long for Troy to stop engaging completely during these meetings.

And as there was no outlet for his anger – or well, none that got noticed as such – Troy actually started to relax in these meetings because his mind turned blessedly blank with Lee’s inconsequential words washing over him. Soon he found himself looking forward to this – and wasn’t that just ironic? But even Troy didn’t have the stamina to stay angry all the time. No matter how much circumstances called for it.

And still he hoped his silence would be interpreted as offense by Lee and not as what it was – one of the few moments that Troy could – paradoxically – stop thinking about his imminent future. A future forced on him. A future that made it impossible for him to follow his own dreams and goals.

These meetings did more than calm him, after a while. They awakened his curiosity about the prince – as a person. For so long he had only seen him as an object – an obstacle. Had refused to think about his humanity. But as more and more time passed Troy couldn’t help but grow curious. It was his greatest weakness, his curiosity. Troy knew. As he also knew that his family would disagree and didn’t that show how well they knew him!?

Curiosity meant he wanted to understand Prince Lee. His motives, his thought processes, what made him tick. What lay beneath this quietness. And that meant he’d have to get to know him – one way or another. And in knowledge of another human being, Troy knew, lay the seeds of compassion and love. And that was dangerous. Especially in his situation. But he couldn’t help himself, especially not when this simpering prince gave him solace – however unintended. Especially not when this simpering prince not only refused to take offense at Troy’s actions and words – no matter how hard Troy tried – but also refused to take part in humiliating Troy in front of the entire court when Jeremiah grew so fed up with Troy’s disrespectful behavior that he tried to involve the prince.

But in every case the prince just stated that he “hadn’t noticed anything amiss” or was sure he didn’t “know what you are referring to, your highness” or any other number of evasive replies that never changed. No matter how much Jeremiah tried to explain his point of view.

Troy was as amused as frustrated by this and he could not figure out whether the prince actually meant what he was saying – in which case Troy wondered why they even bothered with the peace treaty. If they’d just waited until Prince Lee was crowned they’d have easy pickings.

Or if this quiet prince knew exactly what he was doing. But then – why? Why, why, why act as he did? Troy could make no sense of it. None at all. How could this prince just stand there, quiet and calm and let Troy disrespect him like that? So this prince had to be on the slow side, right? Right?!

And one sunny afternoon – when the prince and Troy were taking a stroll through the royal gardens – it burst out of Troy.

“You don’t actually not notice, right?!” Prince Lee stopped and turned to Troy, still that polite curious expression on his face.

“Notice what?” he asked in that quiet tone of his. Troy spluttered, unsure where to start explaining since evidently Lee did seem oblivious. And why did Troy suddenly not want to tell him?!

“Well,” Troy started, unbalanced, “Uh, at lunch, uhm, when you. When you told King Jeremiah—” Troy’s eyes had been restlessly jumping around while Troy was trying to come up with a way to tell Lee what he had been doing without sounding like a complete dick – and again, why did he care all of a sudden – when his eyes landed on Lee.

Lee, who was wearing a completely unfamiliar expression on his face, so much so that Troy lost his train of thought. Lee was grinning. Grinning in such a way that it lit up his whole face, made his eyes sparkle cleverly and oh!

“You did notice!” Troy shouted accusatorily and he just so managed not to point his finger. The grin only widened. How did it widen?! Troy was fascinated and he couldn’t even say whether it was because of the revelation that Lee was – in fact – not a total idiot or whether it was because of how Lee appeared so totally different with that expression. It almost seemed intimate.

“I did notice,” Lee said with laughter in his voice. Troy nodded stupidly. Of course he had. “How much of an idiot did you take me for?” Troy blinked and was trying very hard to come up with some kind of plausible reply. Lee just laughed again when he saw Troy’s face, a full belly laugh, rich and warm and Troy felt strangely enchanted by this.

Whereas normally he’d feel irritation at being played like this, there was nothing like it in him now. Probably because he didn’t feel played. Because whatever Lee had done, it hadn’t been done to fuck with him. Made the exchanges between Jeremiah and Lee even more hilarious though. And Troy started to laugh, too. Couldn’t not. And when they both calmed down they had their first real conversation. And Troy still thought that Lee was quiet – but he also saw now that there was strength in it. It didn’t at all mean that Lee had no will of his own, that he couldn’t or wouldn’t think for himself.

And quiet wasn’t the only thing Lee was. He was warm. Not only in the way he laughed but also in the way his eyes looked at Troy when Troy told him how he had to give up his dreams of being the general of his father’s army – a goal he had been working to since he was five. And also in the way Lee’s voice sounded when he explained how he actually enjoyed the show Troy put on, how that helped him bear having to be here, so soon after he had lost his wife. And also in the way his hand felt on Troy’s shoulder when he promised him he’d have his full support – in whatever way he could provide – to unmake this marriage (or make it bearable).

And Troy admired both, the quietness he knew of since he’d met Lee – and had so clearly misjudged – as well as Lee’s warmth that he just now had discovered and was already addicted to.

-The End-

---

@fluffbruary @sherrrypie333

#troy otto #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fluffbruary #fanfic #troy otto/crazy dog #fluff #my fic #The melody of sand and waves and hope and schemes

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inkingtwice · 4 years ago

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An ask for all my fellow Stranger/Secret Forest/Forest of Secrets (how many names can one show have?) peeps, because you are fabulous and I am nosy.

The side character you think is most deserving of more backstory

Your favorite "quiet moment" in the show

The moment/scene that inspired you to write or go looking for fanfic for this show

Tagging @ohyangchon, @phant0m-l0rd, @theaggresivepacifist, and @cupofteaandstars, @scapeartistsviewoutback and anybody else who wants to play!

(mine are below the line, if you're interested)

The side character I think is most deserving of more backstory

It’s a tough choice between Choi Young and Jang Geon, who caught my attention with his upfront confession to Si-mok and Yeo-jin in season 1 that he helped Chief Kim get that hotel security feed video, and cemented it by looming outside of Kim Hu-jeong’s cell for a few minutes of Silent Judgment (TM) in season 2.

But in the end I really, really want to know more about this lady, who for reasons unspecified is unfailingly loyal to a guy who is, arguably, the world’s weirdest boss. Who makes sure everyone always has enough to eat, has no problem parking herself in a hospital room for days on end to keep a victim/witness safe, and whose only comment about having to wear bulletproof vest and pack a taser while posing as a two-time attempted-murder victim in order to be temporarily kidnapped by a potential killer/definite creep with the political clout to totally crush her if it goes sideways is: “That was uncomfortable.” Choi Young is a fascinating combination of bubbly cheer and pure, liquid-nitrogen chill, and I want to know more.

My favorite "quiet moment" in the show

So many in season 2. I mean. Si-mok actually sleeps on screen. (I do love the creators’ choices in this season to weave in these tiny moments of humanity: last season Han Yeo-jin got the lion’s share of them, and tipping the balance to Si-mok is just another way they switched the roles up in season 2, and yes sorry I have gotten off-track again.)

I think this is my fav, though:

It’s so brief, yet it’s so clear here how isolated Si-mok is even though he’s back in his hometown, and so clear too that he’s aware of it in a way he wasn’t last season. Layered under that is the implied estrangement from his family—his mother was just mentioned a literal minute before this—and his sense of dislocation: Seoul is right outside the car window, his whole life is in the trunk, and he has nowhere to go.

The gif doesn’t have audio, alas, but his tiny shaky sigh as he leaves the GPS destination empty is one of those classic Cho Seung-woo zingers: blink-and-you-miss-it subtle yet profound.

I clutched my chest like a 60s teen at a Beatles concert, I kid you not.

The moment/scene that inspired me to write or go looking for fanfic for this show (both, actually)

I needed two gifs to make it work, because they were both so significant (and it was the same scene, but they had to be under 30 seconds).

Even when he’s yelling at Young Il-jae at Eun-soo’s funeral, I don’t think S1 Si-mok says anything he doesn’t intend to say—but he definitely surprised himself with that sunbae-nim, and it’s more than a little heartbreaking.

And of course this second moment, which doesn’t need any explanation. Whew.

(I would like to say that the camera work here is just beautiful, though.)

#stranger #stranger 2 #tvn stranger #tvn secret forest #hwang si mok #han yeo jin #cho seung woo #bae doona #choi young #inspirations #fanfic #asks #i hope i did this tagging thing right #unfrozen cavewoman bumbles around tumblr; film at eleven

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missfangirll · 4 years ago

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One half of me is yours

Fandom: Guardian Rating: General Relationship: Shen Wei / Zhao Yunlan (Kunlun) Tags: Pining, First Kiss, Ye Olde Haixing Era Words: 1821 Summary: Shen Wei wants. He doesn't know what, exactly, only that it has to do with Kunlun. Lately, everything has to do with Kunlun.

Read on AO3

I actually wanted to write something @tehfanglyfish requested and went to re-read Nudes Sent (to get back into the modern world vibe after reading The Untamed fics for weeks). In this fic there is exactly one (1) sentence about Kunlun and the Olde Haixing Era, but of course that was enough to make my brain go WEEEEEEEE! 😑 Anyway, have some Shen Wei pining for Kunlun 😅 Note that this is set directly before The Scene on the cliff (the one with the name-giving and mask-stealing) 😁

- - - - -

One half of me is yours, the other half yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours. (William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice)

Shen Wei knew he was staring.

He had been careless earlier and for a moment had glanced directly at Kunlun over the campfire they were all sitting at, and now he found himself completely unable to look away.

It was a rare occasion that he had been invited to sit with the soldiers – and even rarer that he had accepted, if their astonished faces had been any indication – but he had seen the general among them and his heart had just shoved his rational mind out of the way and taken control. He had nodded wordlessly and unceremoniously dropped down at the fire.

Now he was wedged uncomfortably close between two of his men, who looked at least equally wary as he felt, and disagreeably far away from Kunlun on the other side of the circle, not able to turn his gaze to something other than the other’s bright smile.

Some weeks ago Kunlun had rolled into their camp and their lives like a landslide, making the first immeasurably more enjoyable, the second definitely more interesting, and had caused Shen Wei’s heart to misbehave anytime he came near.

No one knew where exactly the famed Kunlun had come from, or why he had chosen to follow their cause, but everyone had been utterly grateful for his presence, which soon had proved to be invaluable on countless occasions. He had spoken his mind in war council, had offered smiles and reassurances to the wounded soldiers under his command – he had, in just a few days, managed to charm half the camp by simply being himself, and Shen Wei felt he was no exception.

Curiously, the only thing the general didn't excel at was, for whatever reason, any kind of weapon but his own, and Shen Wei had noticed, first apprehensive, then cautious, and finally with a kind of shy enjoyment, that whenever he went to the training field, alone or to teach a group of recruits, unfailingly, Kunlun would trail behind. He never came close, always stood a few paces away, his eyes sparkling, his lips turned up into a soft smile. Shen Wei had made a few attempts to get him to participate, first by asking politely, later by even offering a sparring match, but hadn't succeeded. Kunlun always kept his distance, while his gaze sometimes turned wistful when he thought Shen Wei wasn't paying attention.

The thing was, though, Shen Wei was always paying attention to Kunlun. If asked, he wouldn't have been able to tell when, or why, for that matter, his fascination for the older man had begun, but now he was fully, truly entangled in the other’s existence. He found himself watching Kunlun more often these days, always hidden behind his mask, drawn to the man’s inexplicable aura like a moth to a blazing flame. And like a moth, Shen Wei often thought, he would burn as soon as he came too close.

He could feel Kunlun’s heat, metaphorically and literally, whenever he sat near the other, could feel his own skin beginning to prickle with a sensation he couldn't quite name, could feel his heart thunder in his chest and his breath catch. He longed for something he didn't have a name for and was scared of the feelings he had so little control over.

He was Hei Pao Shi, the leader, the soldier, the cold and distant general who always wore a mask, always looked at, but never seen, and he wouldn't want, or know how, to change any of it. But with Kunlun close, none of this mattered. With Kunlun close, he could imagine something more, another life, another cause. He pretended not to see the other’s heavy gaze on him over the rim of his bowl when they shared a meal, pretended to be unperturbed by it, but in the stillness of his tent at night, he had no mask to hide behind. He couldn't hide from himself, and every night he lay awake, an aching in his chest, his eyes brimming as he stared into the darkness and wished for… Well, he didn't even know what he wished for, only that it had to do with Kunlun. Lately, everything had to do with Kunlun.

He watched him clean his strange weapon and imagined how those skilled fingers would feel on his skin, how the lips that were turned up in a smile so often would taste on his, how the long hair Kunlun always tried to shove out of his face would feel when he caressed it. He wondered how the other would smell when he dragged his nose along his neck, how his heartbeat would sound if Shen Wei were to lay his head on the other’s chest.

More often than not these thoughts would leave him burning with a yearning for Kunlun he couldn't voice, couldn't show, and when he touched himself in the dark of his tent he wished it was another’s hand.

Shen Wei startled from his thoughts when something lightly touched his shoulder, he was in a defensive stance almost immediately before he recognised what, or rather who, had disturbed him. Kunlun crouched beside him, a small smile on his lips, and when Shen Wei’s senses fully returned, he found that they were the only two left at the fire.

“Lost in thought?”, Kunlun asked gently, if with a slightly teasing tone.

“Hm,” Shen Wei agreed, unsure how to respond, and made to stand up. He felt the other’s warmth dangerously close and as always, it made his heart contract almost painfully.

Kunlun withdrew his hand, looking at him with a complicated expression. “Where are you going?”, he asked, rising as well, furtively moving a bit farther away as if he had sensed Shen Wei’s thoughts.

“I have the next watch,” he replied, “they will be waiting for me on the cliff.” He gestured to the towering rocks above them.

“I’ll join you,” Kunlun said quickly. Shen Wei could only nod.

Silently they made their way up the steep path, Kunlun always two steps behind him, still close enough to hear his breathing whenever he turned to walk around a boulder.

When they arrived at the plateau, the soldier posted there nodded as they passed him and turned around, eager to get back to the camp. Without glancing at the other man, Shen Wei sat in his usual spot to look over the landscape. The moon hung low over the dusty plane, tinged a familiar pale orange, so large it looked close enough to touch. On especially clear nights, he knew, when the dust settled and the clouds vanished, it was even possible to see some stars, the brightest of them piercing the veil the meteor had spread over the earth so long ago.

He heard a soft exhale behind him, then felt Kunlun’s robes brush against his hip as he settled next to him on the rock. He didn't dare to turn, afraid what the other might see in his eyes. He felt his heart beating so loudly that he was certain Kunlun could hear it. Trying to calm himself, he focussed on his breathing.

Shivering slightly with the feeling of having the other so close, he almost jumped when an arm wrapped around his shoulders. When Kunlun whispered, “Are you cold?”, he had no words to respond, could only shake his head frantically. He wanted Kunlun to move away, but also wanted him to press closer, wanted him to wrap his arm tighter around him, wanted him… Wanted. Him.

The flame burning inside him was spreading through his whole body, flaring blindingly bright everywhere they touched. Breathless and with a wildly beating heart, he turned slightly to meet Kunlun’s gaze and almost drew back from the intensity in his eyes.

“I,” he began, but had no words to follow. Words felt inadequate to express what was happening inside him, to describe how his heart was aching with desire, with want, with… With love, he suddenly realised. He had never loved anyone before, aside from his brother, and the stories others told always felt – lacking. But now, oh, now he understood, and was terrified. Love wasn't meant for soldiers, wasn't meant for war. Love was for quiet evenings and hearth fires and flower fields. Not for a battlefield, where every moment could be your last. Love was for others, for another life.

His realisation had left him frozen in Kunlun’s half embrace, and so he startled when he suddenly felt a hand on his cheek. With wide eyes he stared at the other who removed his hand as if he had burned himself.

“Are you alright,” Kunlun began, carefully withdrawing his arm from Shen Wei’s shoulders. “No,” Shen Wei blurted out and Kunlun froze half-way, looking at him questioningly. “I mean,” he inhaled shakily, “I am alright. Just…” He faltered, mouth and throat dry, unable to voice his desires. Kunlun seemed to understand anyway, because he brought his arm back to Shen Wei’s shoulders and smiled softly at him.

They sat in silence for a while, Shen Wei feeling every point of connection between them like a firework, shooting up flares through his body. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and tried again.

“Kunlun.”

The other hummed softly, but otherwise stayed quiet.

“I… I want…” He trailed off, unsure what to say. He wanted Kunlun to tighten his grip around his shoulders, wanted to bury his face in the crook of the other’s neck, wanted to bite his shoulder and soothe it with his tongue, wanted to breathe in Kunlun’s scent and listen to his breathing. He wanted, wanted, wanted Kunlun with an intensity that scared him, and couldn't say any of it.

When he stayed miserably silent, Kunlun prompted: “What do you want?”

“You,” Shen Wei blurted out. “I want you. I… I don't know… I…” He broke off, looking helplessly at the other, expecting him to recoil, or at least draw back a little. But Kunlun looked at him with so much emotion in his eyes that his breath caught. Without another word, Kunlun leaned in and softly, gently, carefully, pressed his lips to Shen Wei’s.

Shen Wei couldn't quite suppress a low moan and let himself fall into the kiss. He hadn't done anything like this with anyone, but Kunlun carefully guided him, coaxed him into opening his mouth, licked slowly over his bottom lip, let their tongues meet. His hand came up to cup Shen Wei’s face, a thumb stroking feather-light over his cheek bone.

When they parted for breath, Kunlun regarded him for a moment, his hand still resting on his cheek.

“I,” he began, sounding slightly breathless, then swallowed. “I want you too, you know. Just… I couldn't…” He broke off, leaning in to capture Shen Wei’s lips in another hungry kiss.

Shen Wei let his eyes fall close, feeling as if something inside him had just clicked into place.

#guardian #镇魂 guardian #zhèn hún #shen wei #zhao yunlan #weilan #guardian fic #my writing #fluff

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howimproper · 4 years ago

Text

Ask Me No Questions (And I'll Tell You No Lies)

Fandom: The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity

Pairing: Qing Ming x Boya

Tags: Eventual Slash, Qing Ming Is A Little Shit, Naughty Language, Truth Magic, Except It's More Like Compulsion Magic, Compelled To Speak, #GayPanic, In This House Honey Bug We Stan, Admission Of FEELINGS, Unbeta’d We Die Like Boya’s Pride.

Summary: Boya gets hit with a truth spell. It goes about as well as you'd expect.

"I'm so sorry Master, I had no idea what it was when I picked it up!" Honey Bug wails from behind her hands, eyes wide and full of tears as she looks pleadingly at Qing Ming, who has found himself on the floor and somewhat entirely distracted by the dazed man in his arms.

"It's alright, Honey Bug, I don't think whatever it was is malicious." He assures his spirit guardian with a calming smile, who sniffles wetly and delicately dabs at her cheeks with the flowing length of her pink sleeve.

"I didn't sense anything from it, it was just a normal pin!" She explains in a rush, gesturing at the simple silver hair pin abandoned on the floor. Qing Ming sighs fondly and shakes his head.

"There's no real harm done, I think Boya is just fine." He says, while surreptitiously using the trailing length of his white sleeve to sweep the seemingly innocuous hair pin away, the length of metal skittering across the wooden floor before bouncing to a stop by the wall. Honey Bug watches it, lips wobbling.

"Speak for yourself, asshole." Both Spirit and Master jump at the unexpected announcement, and Qing Ming quickly returns his attention to the man stirring in his arms.

"Boya! How do you feel?" He asks concernedly, and is not wholly surprised when he is presented with one of the most delightfully unimpressed looks for his trouble. He quickly squashes the reflexive grin at the familiar expression on his companions face.

"Like I just got kicked in the head." Boya spits in response, before blinking in bewilderment. Qing Ming sighs and shakes his head good naturedly as he carefully shifts Boya in his arms, helping him to sit up from where they are both sprawled on the floor. He might have reacted a touch... strongly when Boya had collapsed suddenly and without warning.

"That's to be expected, I think. I'm not sure what kind of talisman it is but it's not harmful." Qing Ming replies easily, and it's the truth. When the talisman had activated in Honey Bug's hands he had not sensed anything untoward- Boya however, had reacted quick as a snake and struck the pin from his Spirits hands regardless, likely acting instinctively at the brief flare of foreign energy. In doing so however he had been the last one in contact with the pin before the spell went off.

"If I start turning unnatural colours or grow extra limbs I'll be blaming you." Boya huffs as he quickly disengages from Qing Ming's arms, to his utter disappointment.

Boya climbs to feet, waving off Honey Bug's steadying hands when he teeters. Qing Ming pouts as he too, rises.

"Come now, Boya, I hardly see how these theoretic outcomes would be my fault." He complains even as he smiles. Boya fixes him with a mildly deadpan look even as he swipes non-existent dust from his leathers, and Qing Ming barely resists cooing. Such expressions his companion can make, it's truly a delight.

He pointedly ignores Honey Bug hastily raising her sleeve to hide her mouth to the side of them.

"Don't be cute, it confuses me." Boya mutters, before snapping his mouth shut with a brief, mortified look on his face. Qing Ming blinks at him in surprise even as perplexed amusement bubbles up inside him.

"Boya, I wasn't aware you found me so confusing." He just barely manages not to titter, and Boya must see right through him, because he levels him with a dirty look before scoffing.

"As if you aren't completely aware of what you do to me." The words have barely left Boya's lips before he jerks as if struck, and swiftly slaps a hand over his own mouth. Honey Bug makes a choked, wheezing sound behind her sleeve, but Qing Ming is too startled to notice.

“And what do you mean by that?” Qing Ming enquires somewhat uncertainly. He has always been certain that Boya took his teasing in stride, knew that his often improper remarks were said in jest (usually, he can’t help himself sometimes, the flirting just happens), but if he had said or done something recently to make his companion truly uncomfortable he cannot think of it.

“Have I offended you in some way, Boya?” He asks, because if he has he wants to know so he can correct it post haste. He does not want the object of his much lamented affections upset with him for something he could have prevented. He doesn’t think he could handle Boya being honestly upset with him.

Boya’s hand abruptly tightens over his mouth, his brows drawing together in a strained frown that has Qing Ming instantly concerned. He opens his mouth to ask what is wrong only to be interrupted by Boya’s other hand snapping up and pointing a single finger in his face. He pauses, mouth working silently for a moment and goes to ask- only for Boya to scowl at him. He closes his mouth, correctly if confusedly interpreting a request for his silence. They stand there awkwardly for a moment as Boya visibly struggles with something, Qing Ming maintaining his perplexed silence as he looks between his straining companion and Honey Bug, who is still hiding behind her sleeve. He narrows his eyes at her. Honey Bug’s eyes curve up at the edges over the curtain of her sleeve. Oh dear.

Finally, Boya lowers his still rudely pointing finger before tentatively removing his hand from his face, the action so cautious he might as well have been going finger by finger. He pauses like that for a moment, hand still hovering near his mouth, before seemingly deciding the danger has passed.

“This is a gods be damned truth spell.” He says, sounding so greatly put upon that Qing Ming can’t help but laugh in such fond delight as his concerns evaporate.

“Oh Boya, you had me so worried for a moment.” He chuckles, and Boya rolls his eyes before turning on his heel, gaze downcast and scanning the floor. He spots the pin by the wall and strides over to it before stooping to snatch it up, uncaring of potentially activating it a second time as he is already under its effects. He turns the innocent looking accessory between his fingers, examining it with a keen eye for any markings or script that might shed some light on its purpose or perhaps how to reverse the spell.

Honey Bug shifts in place for a moment before finally emerging from behind her sleeve and, as if nothing had occurred, gracefully glides for the doors.

“I’ll fetch some tea.” She declares, and Boya grunts as he continues to scour every inch of the hair pin, fingers carefully feeling over the dips and swirls in the silver.

“I’d rather something stronger.” He says absently, and Qing Ming bites his lips to suppress the snicker that tries to escape him.

“Boya, it’s hardly noon.” He teases, trying for scandalized but only managing blatant amusement. Boya looks up from the pin-come-talisman in his hands and glares at him.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He says, with feeling, before his eyes drift to the ceiling and slide closed in mortification. Qing Ming’s lips wobble, and he knows he probably shouldn’t but he can’t pass up the opportunity-

“How improper.” Boya’s eyes pop open and drop to level him with a look, and Qing Ming thinks smittenly that if looks could kill he might be laughing himself sick in the afterlife right now.

“You’d be surprised.” Is the entirely unexpected retort. Qing Ming gapes, and Boya thumps himself solidly in the chest once as if beating out a cough. “Ignore that.” He snaps, clearing his throat. But no, he will not, because now Qing Ming is intrigued.

“Oh?” He prompts before he can think better of it, and Boya brandishes the hair pin threateningly. Qing Ming steps back with a smile, raising his hands in surrender as he retreats to his desk, lowering himself to the cushion behind it with a soft laugh. Oh, but Boya makes it too easy sometimes, Qing Ming thinks as absently rests an elbow on his knee, honestly he can’t help but poke at him when he presents Qing Ming with so many opportunities like this, truth spell or no. Though it’s another thing altogether with its effects, Qing Ming notes as he leans his head on his knuckles to watch as Boya quietly runs qi coated fingers over the pin.

Boya is usually so reserved with his responses that suddenly being privy to his true thoughts is… he hesitates to say nice because it’s not something his companion can actually help right now but it… is definitely eye opening. He knows of course that there is much more to Boya than he allows others to see, that there do in fact exist normal, mundane thoughts in his head just as any other man despite how sometimes Boya himself seems to forget that he is in fact just that. But Qing Ming has witnessed with his own eyes how others fall into the easy mindset of believing him some aloof, untouchable figure that exists solely for duty.

It saddens him greatly that Boya feels that kind of need to distance himself from others in such a way, but he can’t say that he doesn’t understand. Qing Ming has his own ways of distancing himself, after all. He doesn’t here though, and never with Boya. He isn’t normally so free with his words around others, Boya might even be horrified to realize that Qing Ming is actually unfailingly polite in most other company, but he has never felt the need with Boya even from the first day they had met and fought over a pippa. There had just always been something about him that dropped Qing Ming’s guard which, he thinks somewhat sardonically, should have been the first red flag of his budding infatuation, now long since watered and grown into something he sometimes struggles with keeping contained.

“What’s with the face?” Boya enquires out of the blue, and Qing Ming blinks out of his thoughts with a questioning sound. Boya has apparently come to the conclusion that he won’t find any answers from the pin itself and has since pocketed it and returned his attention to him. Having been so thoroughly absorbed in his thoughts Qing Ming hadn’t noticed any of it, or that he has since spent the last several moments staring. He hopes his face hadn’t given his thoughts away too much, but since when has he ever been that lucky.

“What face?” He deflects easily and watches, entertained beyond belief as Boya’s face goes through a myriad of fascinating micro expressions as he evidently tries his absolute best not to just blurt out his true thoughts without first filtering them.

“Here’s the tea, Master.” Honey Bug announces with positively diabolical timing as she abruptly breezes back into the room with a tray in her hands. Qing Ming is not waylaid enough by her arrival to miss the look of profound relief that briefly crosses Boya’s face at the distraction, and dimly wonders what possible thought he might have been trying to keep behind his teeth to warrant such a reaction. Curious, very curious.

Honey Bug sets the tray down on his desk and sets about pouring the faintly floral smelling brew into the cups before carefully distributing them, one set delicately in front of Qing Ming and one opposite him for Boya. He thanks her with a smile and cheerfully ignores the glint in her eye as she returns it and rises to leave them alone once more.

Grasping his cup, Qing Ming allows the heat to seep into his fingers for a moment before taking a careful sip, humming constantly at the flavour as Boya lowers himself to sit opposite him.

“We need to figure out how to break this spell.” Boya grumbles as he reaches for his own cup, eying it in faint displeasure for a moment before drinking. Clearly, he had truly wanted something stronger. Qing Ming contemplates retrieving the wine he may or may not have stashed in the cupboard behind him.

“It might very well be a simple matter of time, Boya.” He replies honestly. It might very well be so, the spell itself is a harmless one, if inconvenient, and tethered to such an innocuous item that he truly does not believe it was one made with any ill intent behind it. Likely a talisman made in jest, or to perhaps prove a point. Either way he doesn’t think they need to be hitting the scrolls for counterspells or worrying too much about it just yet. Boya, clearly, disagrees.

“I don’t want to wait it out, Qing Ming.” He almost whines, and Qing Ming raises his eyebrows.

“Something to hide, my friend?” He asks cheekily, and is instantly intrigued by the sudden blush that tinges Boya’s ears.

“Yes.” Boya chokes out, before delving into his tea, as if burning his mouth out will ward off any further ill restrained words. Qing Ming’s eyebrows have yet to descend from his hairline, and he watches his companion drain his cup with curiosity. He thinks he should perhaps tone it down a bit for Boya’s sake, but the man hasn’t actually expressed any real ire at his prodding yet, and Qing Ming trusts that if he oversteps Boya will say so or simply remove himself from the situation. He thinks that, if he were truly making his friend uncomfortable, the spell would ensure he is made aware by prompting Boya to tell him off, as he would clearly wish to.

And to be frank, it would take a better man than Qing Ming to resist.

Deciding to take some mercy on his companion, Qing Ming drops his hand from his temple and straightens to refill their cups, and idly comments-

“You’re taking all this with more grace than I might have expected, Boya.” Only because if it had been Qing Ming struck with the spell, he might have sent Boya fleeing for the hills to escape whatever inane prattle he might fail to suppress- or, heavens forbid, announce his affections. Ah. Probably for the best it wasn’t him. He takes a hasty sip of his refilled cup to hide the sudden heat in his face.

“Barely,” Boya mumbles into his cup, “Just when I think I’ve got a handle on it, words happen.” He hisses as he lowers his tea to glare off to the side. Qing Ming hums.

“Ah, the woes of the mortal man.” He replies with amusement, and is charmed by the scowl and quiet fuck off he gets in reply. “It’s not too terrible, is it?” He asks lightly, and gestures to his companion. “We’ve known each other long enough to not be offended by some trivial truths between us.” It’s actually quite refreshing. Boya is not one to lie, this he knows very well, but he is guilty of habitually omitting certain things or simply keeping his own counsel on matters. To hear his honest thoughts for a change is quite the treat.

“You don’t offend me.” Boya says, and by the lack of any reaction to his own words Qing Ming takes it as a willing admission that warms him. He smiles.

“I’m glad. I do worry sometimes that I may take my teasing too far,” He admits in return, “I don’t want to bother you or make you uncomfortable.” And he really doesn’t, despite literally everything he says to the man sometimes. He values Boya far too much to ever risk driving him away, and Qing Ming doesn’t think he would be able to bear it if he ever did.

“I don’t mind.” Boya mutters as he fiddles with his cup, before taking a sip. But not before adding, “I love you too much for you to ever bother me.” Qing Ming freezes, startled at the almost absent words, and Boya apparently registers what he had just said, because he promptly chokes on his tea. Stunned, Qing Ming can only stare as Boya coughs loudly into his arm, reflexive tears wetting his lashes as he tries to clear the tea from his lungs.

Boya hastily slams his cup down on the desk, and the sharp sound startles Qing Ming out of his daze.

“Boya-” He tries, but for once, words fail him. He replays the last few seconds over in his head, and then does it again and again until the words are chasing themselves in circles within his mind.

“I love you too much for you to ever bother me.”

Qing Ming thinks he might have played the remark off as a jest or perhaps an exaggeration if Boya had uttered these words any day before today, but his still spluttering companion is currently under the influence of a truth spell. However unwittingly he had said it, Boya had meant it.

Boya loves him.

The realization is almost enough for him to drop his cup, but Qing Ming quickly fumbles it to the safety of his desk before he can do so. Opposite him, Boya is climbing to his feet, coughing fit subsiding as he hastily turns away from him and makes for the door, and Qing Ming jolts, because Boya is fleeing.

After admitting that he loves him.

Qing Ming’s knee catches the edge of his desk as he scrambles to his feet, but he hardly notices the brief flare of pain as he all but jumps over it in his haste to catch his fleeing companion.

“Boya, wait-” He calls, and reaches out to quickly snag Boya’s arm before he can clear the doors, tugging him to a stop and urging him to turn around. Boya stops, but he doesn’t turn, and Qing Ming decides he’ll take it.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Boya grits out, panicked, and Qing Ming could snort because that much is obvious.

“Boya-” He starts, only to be interrupted.

“I did mean it that way.” Boya blurts, before attempting to snatch his arm from Qing Ming’s grip to no avail, and growling. “Didn’t. Fuck.” He curses, and Qing Ming laughs softly, shaking his head fondly and decidedly not letting go of his arm. “Don’t laugh, this isn’t funny!” Boya snaps, still refusing to turn and face him, but Qing Ming isn’t laughing at him, he’s laughing at himself. How blind he has been.

“Boya-” Qing Ming tries again, gently-

“I told you I didn’t want to wait out this stupid spell.” Boya spits. Qing Ming sighs and tries to tug him around, but his panicking companion stubbornly holds his ground. And he is, panicking, that is, either abjectly mortified at his own honesty or spooked by whatever reaction he thinks will be forthcoming, or a mixture of both. Either way Qing Ming will need to calm him down before there can be any further discussion that doesn’t end with him bolting.

“Yes, because you were afraid you’d do exactly as you just did.” Qing Ming replies reasonably, and Boya makes a vaguely embarrassed noise and tries to pull his arm free again. Qing Ming does not allow it.

“Forget I said anything, it’s the spell.” He tries, and Qing Ming snorts because it’s a poor deflection and they both know it. Fed up, Qing Ming yanks Boya around, the man apparently unprepared for the force he puts behind the pull because he turns with it in surprise, and Qing Ming releases his arm and grabs him by the lapels of his leathers to hold him still.

“You love me.” He states, catching Boya’s eyes with his tone carefully blank despite the tide of emotion currently trying to drown him. Boya swallows, and almost looks away before apparently deciding against it, clenching his teeth so tight Qing Ming can see the flex of muscle in his jaw. He remains stubbornly silent. Qing Ming tries a different approach. He tightens his grip and leans in, close enough to feel the warmth of Boya’s breath as he exhales in surprise.

“You love me?” He asks.

“Yes.” Boya breathes, eyes fixed unerringly on his face, and Qing Ming makes some sort of noise in his chest (he honestly can’t say what, but it’s embarrassing) and kisses him. Boya jerks, startled, before he just...melts into him, and kisses back.

The kiss is languid, and Qing Ming quickly decides that kissing Boya is his new favorite pastime. He clings to the lapels of Boya’s leathers, almost afraid to let go, and Boya responds by sliding his hands over Qing Ming’s hips, wrapping his arms around his waist and tugging him against him. Qing Ming hums contentedly against his lips.

Suddenly, Boya winces, and Qing Ming pulls back to frown at him in concern.

“What is it?” He asks, and Boya blinks rapidly for a moment before shaking his head slowly.

“Nothing.” Boya replies, somehow very pointedly, and then sighs in relief. “Oh thank the gods.” He mutters, and Qing Ming blinks.

“Ah,” He says, “The spell?” He guesses. Boya nods, looking entirely too relieved, and Qing Ming’s lips twitch up. “A bit late for that.” He teases, and Boya rolls his eyes, before tugging him back in for another kiss. Yes. Yes he thinks he’s definitely found a new pastime.

Out in the hall, Honey Bug dusts her hands of imaginary dirt, and smiles.

Fin

#qing ming x boya #the yin-yang master: dream of eternity #qing ming #boya #honey bug #my dumb writing #wrote this instead of sleeping #oh no its cute #aaahhh #Honey bug you sneaky little shit #i love you

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yiling · 5 years ago

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So, in the tags on this post about Song Lan and Xue Yang, I put something about how I think that in some ways, Xue Yang has more in common with Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan than they do with each other. And @veliseraptor expressed interest in this in her tags, and I’m in a meta mood I guess, so here’s me pulling that statement apart a little more:

Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang: I think this is the more obvious one, the comparison the narrative invites you to make. XXC and XY are each other’s opposite, in color scheme, in temperament, in actions, and that binds them together. I think the key here is that they’re both the kind of person that others don’t see as being fully human - Xiao Xingchen because he is unnaturally Pure And Good, and Xue Yang because he is unnaturally Bad And Evil. In both those cases, that’s not all they are, and the story goes to great lengths to show that they are people, and that not being perceived as such was really not great for them. Xiao Xingchen is tired of being treated like he’s made of moonlight and Xue Yang is tired of being treated like a rabid animal, and making each other feel like people is what lets them become close. (Xue Yang makes Xingchen laugh! Xingchen gets Xue Yang candy! It’s all very cute.)

Relatedly, they’re both rootless wanderers, disconnected from wider humanity because they don’t really have places or families in the way polite cultivator society expects you to. (Compare Song Lan, who does have a home to go back to before Xue Yang destroys it.) Xingchen has Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, which he cannot return to and which is treated basically as being on another plane of existence, and Xue Yang has nothing but the back alleys of Kuizhou. They’re a little bit too happy with playing house in their city of corpses, and I think it’s because something as mundane as a home, something small and simple and safe, is a novelty to them. They both ultimately just want a place, and someone who cares about them. (Of course, Xue Yang is actively sabotaging it, but he never had a good thing long enough to recognize what one was).

Song Lan and Xue Yang: This is more speculative because we really don’t get that much Song Lan and he is very quiet, but there are definitely parallels between the two of them that they don’t have with Xingchen. Obviously they’re nothing alike in, you know, morality, and they’re very different in demeanor, but they’ve got some similar personality traits: proud, prickly, quick to anger and slow to trust, will never forget a slight. Not really fans of other people, with a single, cherished exception. Big fans of Vengeance, even if it gets in the way of their other goals: remember, Song Lan chose to confront Xue Yang before he spoke to Xiao Xingchen, the man he’d been looking for for literal years! Liable to say the worst, cruelest thing in the heat of the moment, and then regret the consequences.

They also both have Being In Love With Xiao Xingchen as a major character trait. Like, I joke, but it’s a big thing for them! I think they both have him up on a pedestal, as like an avatar of goodness and kindness and justice. They treat that very differently - Song Lan by treating him as a paragon, and Xue Yang by trying to drag Xingchen down to his level, but they’re both shocked and angry when Xingchen doesn’t live up to their perception by acting like a human being with flaws and feelings. I think they’re both kind of frustrated by Xingchen in general, actually! Because even though they see him more as a human than the public does, they still look at him and think - How can you be so fair and kind? Don’t you understand what the world is like? Don’t you know you can’t act that way?

That’s the other thing they have in common with each other, that Xingchen does not share: they’ve both had to live in the world, and they know what a shitty place it can be. They know that most other people are assholes who can’t be trusted, who want to hurt you. Song Lan and Xue Yang are both captivated by Xingchen because Xingchen doesn’t see the world that way, and will do things like try to bring a killer to justice at all costs even though it would be simpler to just cut his throat, or rescue an injured man by the side of the road and not even ask for his name in return. But they both have a hard time really understanding him because the people of the mortal world just don’t act that way, and that is what Song Lan and Xue Yang are. Song Lan can’t square Xingchen-the-bright-moon-and-gentle-breeze with Xingchen who slipped up and let Xue Yang enact his horrible revenge. Xue Yang can’t square his unfailingly kind and forbearing Xingchen-daozhang with the man who cries and calls him disgusting. They can’t hold Xingchen’s goodness and Xingchen’s humanity in their hearts at the same time. In the end, neither of them fully see past the moonlight, and it brings them all to so much grief.

Oh, and both Song Lan and Xue Yang carried what was left of the man they loved, his soul and his sword, with them, for however long they had left :)

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #xuexiao #songxiao #songxue #songxuexiao #xiao xingchen #xue yang #song lan #mine #WHEW this ended up BIG #i was like 'oh i'll bang this out real quick'#and here i sit 700 words later #for the record the thing all three of them have in common is their lack of regard for social norms and niceties and the sect system #which lets their little drama play out in the margins of cultivator society because at the end of the day no one cares who they are #don't mind me i'm still thinking about that theoppositeofprofound meta...

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