#its the same 'love' that kept my grandpa in my life even after he did what he did to me and i told her

[vagueiish]

...i just want someone to love me for me. to look at me and see all my nonsense and willingly be like 'huh. that's my human, even with the bullshit'. platonically or romantically or whatever, man, i just...

i want to be loved by choice. not out of obligation

[wrightingdungeon]

Cliff side talks

This takes place in Shane's 6 heart event with mentions of 2 and 4 heart scenes

FIRST THINGS FIRST - You are loved, You deserve to be safe, Eat/Drink Something, yes you can eat cake and drink jucie, its edible and makes you happy eat/drink it, Let yourself feel what you feel, ASK FOR HELP YOU NEED IT, We all need it, I needed it

Warning: A curse word or two, Self Hate, Looking over a cliff, Depression, might hit close to home, Kinda personal, Listened to Hollywood Undead “Bullet” to remind me how i felt when I married Shane the first time, loose canon, Shane has brown eyes fight me - look at this https://sdv-community.tumblr.com/post/170012882859/the-person-confused-by-his-purple-hair-here-he-has 

Walking towards the cliff where you had helped that Racoon/Tanooki thing clean up the beach under the cliff, you felt numb. You had told everyone you moved here to take over the farm after Grandpa died, that was a half-truth. Working in that cube farm of Joja’s was mentally and physically killing you, looking up only to see a camera pointed directly at you, that dull buzz of the blinking work light. You had no purpose, a twenty-something-year-old slaving away just to make enough to wake up the next day.

Yes now you lived in Pelican town and everyone was so nice, besides a few off-put people when you first moved in, but you should be happier now, right? You shouldn't be walking to the cliff just to stare down at the waves crashing into the shore, to dream about not hurting, just to chicken out and go home. No today you wouldn't chicken out, you had grown tired of the feeling you traded a cube farm job for being a lap dog for the town. No one really batted an eye at how you had cleaned up the town, and no one said anything about you fixing the bus line, it was like they loved you fixing their town but they couldn't show it for some reason.

Did you not deserve it, you must have been selfish to want more praise than a pat on the head and a "You did your job.". Hell, you have been keeping your lips shut about Lewis and the golden statue that he has, that he definitely spent town funding on. You kept your mouth shut about what you had seen in Pierre’s room, his own wife had no idea what he was hiding. Well, you were going to be selfish tonight, the rain soaking to your bone, the grass squishing under your feet. You have wanted to be selfish long before moving here, this was just a last effort and it seemed an effort lost.

As the cliffs came into focus a body lying at the edge surrounded by cans did as well. You froze for a second, no one really came out this late or hung out that close to the cliff, you thought you'd be alone. Walking closer the features became clearer, Shane. He was lying face down his shoulders and body shaking. His cries became clearer and louder as you came to stand above him. 

“F-Farmer?” You heard him weakly call looking up at you, his eyes puffy and bloodshot, his face beet red, the smell of beer somehow clinging to him not allowing the rain to wash it off. “Shane….” You said softly as you set next to him, feet dangling off the ledge of the cliff. “I…..I’m Sorry…” He cried quietly and threw hiccups. “M….My life….It’s a Pathetic joke….Look at me…” His hand came off the ground in a half-assed gesture, and his words came out of him almost like your minds had been attached, he said everything you had been thinking about yourself. “Why do I even try?” A larger sob rang out “I'm too small and stupid to…to take control of my own life…I’m just a p…piece of garbage flittering in the wind…” 

“I don't think that…” You whispered stopping yourself from reaching over to touch and play with his hair. You knew from your own thoughts though that the self-hating was tough, to be your own enemy, to tear yourself down so effortlessly. “I’ve been coming here often lately….looking down…Here’s a chance to finally take control of my life….these cliffs…” You both have been doing the same thing but you had never run into each other till now, ‘Life works that way sometimes…’ you thought looking down at the depressed man who had caught your eye.

His past words playing in your mind, that night on the dock, Shane had given you one of his beers. “You ever feel like…no matter what you do, you're gonna fail?” You had just moved to Pelican Town barely had any crops, had just stopped working in IT….The last time your hands had touched soil you were a child visiting Pelican town for ONE summer, yes every night you fell asleep to thoughts of failure and disappointment. “...Like you’re stuck in some miserable abyss and you’re so deep you can’t even see the light of day?” 

You could see Shane looking at you from the corner of your eye, how do you respond? This was an actual conversation you were having not just him telling you to leave him alone, he was opening up to you, and it felt like a cat ran away with your tongue. “I just feel like no matter how hard I try…I’m not strong enough to climb out of that hole.” Bringing the beer to your mouth you began to drink maybe some liquid courage would help you tell Shane you know what he is feeling, it may not be the same, but similar. 

You didn't even register you had chugged the whole beer when Shane began to chuckle at you. “Heh… fast drinker, huh? You are after my heart aren't you.” He said lord, you were so happy your face was red from chugging or he might have caught on to your crush. “Just don’t make it a habit… You got a future ahead of you still.” The slight pain you hear in his voice and the downward look in his eyes make your heartache if only he knew. Shane had reached over and pat you on the head a few times before standing up. “Welp… My liver’s beggin’ me to stop. Better call it a night… See you around Farmer.”

Pulling yourself back into the moment you looked back down at the soaked depressed man lying next to you. “B… Bu…*blaap*... but I’m too scared, too anxious. Just like always…” A mix of sobs and belches left him in between his words. “Farmer… All I do is work, sleep, and drink…t… to dull the feelings of self-hatred…” You knew how that went, remembering the days when you'd dragged yourself to the office, worked all day, skipped lunch because you couldn't afford more than a meal a day, went home, and fell onto the couch watching whatever was on the TV, far too tired to change the channel. 

Another flashback began to take you remembering when you and Marnie had to break into his room because he had drunk himself halfway into a coma. “You wouldn’t understand…” Those words cut into you because you did understand if only you could tell Shane that yes, you get it, yes you wanna stop as well, you are just as low as he is. The cry that left Jas when Shane said “Hopefully I won’t be around long enough to need a ‘plan’...” You and Shane hadn't seen her walk in, but you both did see her run away in tears. Marnie followed her while you stayed with Shane as he began to have a panic attack.

“Why should I even go on? Tell me. T...tell me why I shouldn't roll off this cliff right now…” His cry for help breaks you out of your memory. “Shane…” You couldn't help yourself you let yourself be selfish and work your fingers into his hair. It was greasy and definitely needed to be washed but who has time for a shower when you are busy trying to get out of bed, you definitely knew what that felt like, your toothbrush being almost abandoned because you had no time really for self-care. 

"Jas needs you. You’re like a father to her…” You said brushing his hair up and out of his eyes, his brown eyes looking up at you filling with tears, he was biting his lip but you could still see it was quivering. “...You’re right… Jas… Ugh, Fuck, God….I’m a fucking horrible, *hic*... Selfish Person… Now I feel even worse…” He weakly and unsuccessfully tried to remove your hand from his hair, before giving up and leaning into your touch. 

“I’m horrible…” You whispered feeling Shane move to peek up at you, your eyes locked to the bottom of the cliff. “I was going to be selfish today… I… I don't….I’m so tired Shane…” From seeing Shane's face you knew the rain was doing nothing to hide that your eyes had begun to puff and tears ran down your cheeks, falling and getting lost in your soaked clothes. “What…” Shane said looking up at you. “I do the same thing… I come to this ledge and think about just... leaning over and falling off…” Looking down at Shane you could see surprise but also…fear? In his eyes. “I don't know how we have never run into each other…” A laugh escaped in between tiny sobs as you tried to wipe the tears away with your free hand. 

“I…I guess I… I’m tired of trying to get everyone to like me….I’m tired of giving Vincent cookies when his own mother could make them, Pam hasn't actually said thank you for me FIXING HER bus, Haley always has something to say about my appearance and it feels like she really knows how to put a person down.” It was all coming out, what you wanted to say at the docs, what you wanted to say as you held Shane and calmed him down in his room, everything you wanted to scream out over the cliff into the ocean air…just came out. 

“Farmer….I…I’m sorry…” Feeling Shane’s hand slide across your lap and grip your side, a calmness came over you, Shane saw you and you saw Shane, both of you at the bottom of a barrel with a shotgun pointed at you two. “Farmer…I think you should take me to the hospital now…” He groaned his face turning a slight green. “Oh fuck, yeah!” Helping Shane up and letting him throw an arm over your shoulder, leaning a bit on you, you both made your way, soaking wet and shivering, to Harvey's.

A split second you looked back at the ledge, who had talked who away from it, who pulled the other back to safety. Both of you, both had.

The next morning you woke up to someone at your door, and a panic had set in. It was Harvey coming to tell you Shane had finally drunk himself to death. Rushing to the door and opening it, you smiled seeing Shane standing there holding his arm where Harvey had IVed him, his eyes burning holes into his feet. “Shane…You're ok…” You said smiling softly. “Hey… Fuck…uh… How do I say this… I’m really sorry about what happened at the cliffs…. It was… embarrassing…” He said his eyes looking up to meet yours. “I’m glad I was there to help.” You said carefully reaching out to place your fingers on his hand. “...I’m glad you're here too…I…I mean…Ye-yeah, me too.” He said, blushing and laughing, looking around to save a bit of his dignity. “I… I’ve decided I want to see a therapist. Harvey got me in touch with a colleague of his…I…I'll tell you how it goes… I think… I think you should try it as well.”

He was looking right into your eyes as he said you should give it a try. “I… I know I'm a pot calling the kettle black….but…I…I really want you to stay…” Your cheeks lit up, this was the first time he said something like that. “Y…Yeah…I’ll give it a shot…” You said not leaving his gaze. “You know Shane… I just woke up… Do you want to stay, and help feed the chickens?” Seeing him smile wide was all the coffee you needed today. “That sounds like a great idea.”

[shojoqueendom]

"Me and Kimono" | Interview with Atsufu

Translation of the interview with Moyoco Anno published in the June 2023 issue of "Neppū" on Note.

Starting from the May 2021 issue, Moyoco Anno's cover illustrations mark the beginning of the third year with this June issue. When you think of Moyoco, you might recall the image of modern, real-life women wrapped in contemporary fashion, symbolized by works like "Hataraki Man" and "Happy Mania." So, why did Moyoco choose to depict "women in kimono, with a somewhat classical vibe" on the cover? We inquired about Moyoco's affection for kimono, which underlies this decision. Nowadays, Moyoco's passion for kimono has grown to the extent of establishing her own brand that creates kimono with her unique artistic style. This "kimono fever" seems to stem from a desire to see more people casually wearing and embracing Japan's beautiful nature, such as its plants and birds, through clothing.

My grandfather's kimono and the kihachijo he wore at the age of 3

Interviewer: Thank you very much for illustrating the cover for the past two years since the May 2021 issue. It has been well received that 'women in kimono evoke various stories,' and we are grateful for that. As a result, we have decided to continue for another year. Producer Suzuki (Toshio) even joked, 'We would like to continue until Moyoco-san gets tired of it.'

Anno: Is that true? Isn't it just that you're getting too lazy to change (laughs)?

Interviewer: That's not true at all (laughs). I'm serious. So, I'd like to take this opportunity to ask you about your connection with kimonos, Moyoko-san, and hear a comprehensive discussion about it. When did you first become fascinated with kimonos?

Anno: My grandfather was a kimono wearer. He always wore kimonos in his daily life. Perhaps it was also because of the area, Shimokitazawa in Tokyo, but when I was a child, there were quite a few people like that in the neighborhood. If there were about ten elderly people in the neighborhood, for example, about two of them would be wearing kimonos. Among relatives, it was only my grandfather, though.

Interviewer: So it wasn't yukata, but kimonos.

Anno: They were ordinary men's kimonos. Made of sturdy fabric, they came with a haori, juban, and ensemble. He also wore a coat for kimonos in winter. When we lived together, my grandfather's way of casually taking off his kimono was impressive. Men's kimonos are designed to be worn at the same length, so the juban worn underneath can be removed together. He would hang it on a clothes rack, wearing only fundoshi and underwear, and then go to bed just like that.

Interviewer: It's like shedding a skin, isn't it?

Anno: Exactly. Then, when I woke up in the morning, I would put it back on just like that (laughs). Since kimonos aren't washed every day, men's kimonos are quite convenient, right?

Interviewer: Your grandfather was a tailor, if I recall correctly.

Anno: Yes, that's right. But he had already retired by then. However, since he loved sewing even after retirement, he was always making something, and when I was little, he made various things for me too.

Interviewer: When did you start experiencing kimonos yourself?

Anno: I was already wearing a yellow hakama ensemble when I was about three years old. I can't remember if it was a gift or someone's hand-me-down, but I wore it for New Year's and in the winter. I always used to fuss about not wanting to take it off once it was put on me.

Interviewer: Was it comfortable to wear?

Anno: I loved it. Maybe part of it was because I was happy to be with my grandpa. Also, one time when the maid who was at my grandfather's house said she was going back to her hometown, I followed along. I was delighted to be dressed in children's festival attire there. We brought back that festival attire and kept it at home.

Interviewer: So, it seems like you were quite enthusiastic about kimonos even at the age of three.

Anno: Indeed, I liked kimonos from that time. But you know, it's a hassle for parents to dress you up every time, right? When I was little and happened to have something that fit me, they would dress me up, but as I grew older, it wasn't so easy. Still, they always bought me yukatas every year. When I was in elementary school, whenever there was a Bon dance in the neighborhood, my school friends and I would all go out wearing yukatas. Once I was dressed in a yukata, I would wear it every day for about a week from then on. Like, going to the school pool in the morning during summer vacation, and then coming home and wearing a yukata around the house.

Interviewer: Didn't you ever walk around the neighborhood dressed like that?

Anno: If you walk around in a yukata when it's not a festival, you'll definitely get some strange looks (laughs).

Encountering antique kimonos

Interviewer: What was the subsequent evolution of your interest in kimonos like?

Anno: When it comes to kimonos for girls, it's usually associated with the coming-of-age ceremony, right? Well, about a week before that, I injured my foot. What's more, at that time, my family was too poor to afford to borrow a formal furisode for the coming-of-age ceremony. So, I didn't wear a kimono for the ceremony. Then, because they felt sorry for me not being able to attend the ceremony, my friends suggested we all get together wearing kimonos. They all had kimonos bought for them, so they wanted to wear them again at least once. They were all dolled up in furisode with fluffy white shawls, but I was the only one in a plain casual kimono. Mine was a cute komon with a navy background adorned with little hammers and treasures, but compared to everyone else's formal attire, it did seem a bit plain (laughs).

Interviewer: Even though your friends didn't mean any harm, it must be a bitter memory.

Anno: At that time, I realized that you really need financial stability to afford kimonos, and I distanced myself from them a bit. Buying a kimono isn't the end of it; you also need a place to store it. You definitely need a certain amount of storage space. And because the rules for storing kimonos are different from regular clothes, you need a dedicated space for them.

Interviewer: Did your enthusiasm for kimonos reignite around the time you started serializing "Sakuran," which features Kiyoha, a courtesan in Yoshiwara, around 2001?

Anno: I think it was before that… It was around my mid-20s when I was living alone in Ebisu, Tokyo. There was a pop-up antique kimono shop at an event venue, and I encountered some really beautiful kimonos there. I wore one of those kimonos for the cover of "AERA" magazine (May 5, 2003 issue). It was the first time I encountered an antique kimono that fit me perfectly in terms of length, even with my height. It was a beautiful silk kimono with a reddish-purple hue and vertical stripes with a bluish tint.

Interviewer: Did you dress yourself for the "AERA" photo shoot?

Anno: Yes, I did. Looking back now, I realize it was a mess, and I wonder how I managed to go to the shoot (laughs).

Interviewer: Why did you decide to feature kimonos in the photos?

Anno: I really didn't have anything else to wear (laughs). I wasn't making enough money to indulge myself. Although I wasn't in debt anymore, I still didn't have time to go shopping for clothes or anything like that.

Interviewer: You didn't have the mental space for it either.

Anno: Exactly. When I was working at home, I usually just wore casual clothes, so I thought about what to wear for the "AERA" cover.

Interviewer: Ah, you remembered you had kimonos.

Anno: Ironically, I had nothing but kimonos (laughs). I tend to be like that quite often. People sometimes say I'm like a fashionable manga artist, but that's not the case at all.

I remember when I was invited to a home party by fellow female manga artists at the time. I thought it was just a casual gathering at home, so I went there thinking it was fine to wear casual clothes, but everyone else was dressed head-to-toe in Chanel, Prada, or Gucci.

Visiting vintage clothing stores in Kamakura

Interviewer: You got married to director Hideaki Anno in 2002 and moved to Kamakura in 2004. I heard that during this time, you were already collecting kimonos by visiting nearby vintage clothing stores.

Anno: It all started when we had the chance to go to Kyoto shortly after we got married, and we met a friend of the director who was from Kyoto and was also an expert in kimono, as his wife was a Kyoto native who was also into Japanese traditional dance. So, when I casually mentioned that I was also interested in kimonos, she introduced me to a well-established kimono shop in Kyoto. Since the director was very enthusiastic about our marriage and told me to "buy whatever you want," it kind of turned into a situation like that (laughs).

Then the wife said, "You'll get the hang of it if you try wearing it once," and she dressed me up on the spot. The next day, when we were heading back to Tokyo, she selected a complete set of necessary kimono dressing tools for me. That experience gave me a sense of how to wear them properly. With that base knowledge, I later learned to wear them by watching tutorials online or reading books.

Interviewer: So, did your interest in kimonos reignite around the time of your marriage?

Anno: I was hesitant to wear the tailored kimonos sent from Kyoto to Kamakura because I was afraid of ruining them. So, I started buying cute patterned or sturdy Meisen kimonos from vintage clothing stores in Kamakura and just tried wearing them out. I felt like it was okay to wear them since they wouldn't be a big loss if they got dirty. That's how I started wearing kimonos frequently. However, the kimonos that the director bought for me in Kyoto haven't been worn at all (laughs).

Interviewer: Do you have any unique points to look out for when seeing kimonos at vintage clothing stores, as someone like you who frequently visits them?

Anno: It's definitely the patterns unique to antiques. There are hardly any kimonos left from the Meiji period. There are some from the Taisho period, but their condition isn't great. So naturally, there are a lot from the Showa period, maybe around right after the war. The charm of the patterns and the beauty of the fabric. Also, there's something cute about the "Hakkake," which is the fabric attached to the hem of the kimono. Usually, it's plain, but sometimes it's lined with pink in a white kimono with purple patterns, which is a color scheme unique to that era.

Initially, I'd wear kimonos and then turn them into a haori, then into a juban, and if the pattern is flashy, it could become an obi, and eventually, it could be used as the lining of a haori. I like that you can see the progression with antiques.

Interviewer: Do you learn this kind of knowledge from books or the internet?

Anno: Yes, and I also ask friends who share the same interest in kimonos, or I talk to people at vintage clothing stores. One of the assistants who happened to visit my place was working part-time at a famous vintage kimono store while also working as an assistant. She told me that near my house in Kamakura, there was a vintage store with a lot of piled-up clothes that were not organized at all. The store had many good items, but they were all chopped up and turned into dresses, and a certain famous actress used them as costumes. So, she asked me to hurry up and buy the old kimonos before they were chopped up and rescue them (laughs).

I couldn't draw 'Sakuran' without actually trying on kimonos

Interviewer: Does "Sakuran," set in Yoshiwara, have any connection to the resurgence of your love for kimonos?

Anno: Initially, I didn't pay much attention to kimonos when I started drawing "Sakuran," but I realized the difficulty of drawing kimonos once I actually started drawing them. With Western clothing, you see someone wearing it every day, so you can kind of draw it in any pose intuitively. But with kimonos, I had no idea, for example, how the sleeves should look when the character moves. So, when I was drawing "Sakuran," I often wore kimonos and moved around to draw them.

Interviewer: Did you draw manga while wearing kimonos?

Anno: Not during the inking stage, because it would be troublesome if ink splattered on them. But I always wore them during the stage where I confirmed how they looked. The way kimonos were worn back then and today is completely different, so I sometimes adjusted them to match the style of that time. For example, courtesans tie their obi at the front. Also, depending on the era, in the Edo period, they didn't fold the obi into two. So, it was very wide. And the patterns are clearly different between the Edo period and the Meiji, Taisho, and Showa eras. There's a difference between the Edo-style patterns that still exist today and the modern antique patterns of the Meiji, Taisho, and Showa eras. Of course, there were many elderly people who wore Edo-style kimonos even in the Meiji era, but the designs preferred by young people have more of a modern feel. Furthermore, there are differences between Edo (Tokyo) and Kyoto. Edo-style kimonos often have patterns that look like monotone from a distance, like screentones, while Kyoto kimonos often have distinct and independent patterns. They have a relatively elegant feel.

Interviewer: Your knowledge deepened while drawing manga, and the cycle of acquiring more things continued, right?

Anno: There was a time when I had an extraordinary amount of things, so I sold everything once. I even went through a phase of bidding on Yahoo Auctions. There were times when I couldn't do it myself because I was busy with work, so I asked my assistants to bid for me (laughs).

Interviewer: How many kimonos do you currently have?

Anno: Not that many. Probably less than 50. Once I started making them myself, I mostly wore the ones I made.

Drawing the desired pattern, scanning it, and then printing it onto fabric

Interviewer: So, you finally started making your own kimonos. That's the original kimono brand "Hyakuyoudo" that you launched about two and a half years ago, right? Please tell us about the process that led you to start making kimonos yourself.

Anno: Actually, after returning from Kamakura to Tokyo, there was a period when I didn't wear kimonos for a while.

Interviewer: Why is that?

Anno: It's like a habit, you know? When you wear something frequently, it becomes natural to wear it, but once you stop, it suddenly becomes a hassle, and there was a period when my heart drifted away from kimonos. Then, suddenly, when I felt like it was time to start wearing kimonos again, I realized that I had forgotten a lot of what I had learned before, so I decided to find a teacher and learn the basics again.

Interviewer: Forgive my amateur sense, but is kimono dressing really that difficult?

Anno: At first, it's more like as long as it doesn't fall off, it's fine, but as you get used to it, you start to notice things like why does this part always feel tight when I sit down, or why does this part always sag after a while. Or why does that person look so good in a kimono?

Interviewer: Is it really that different?

Anno: Yes, it is. So if you want to wear it beautifully, it's better to learn from a professional. So, one day, I took some old kimonos and obis that I had to a dressing lesson. I actually wanted to use this old obi, but the fabric was too worn out to use, so I said, "You can print this."

Interviewer: What do you mean by "print"?

Anno: It's a photographic process. For example, if you have a patterned fabric that's already worn out and you want to make a new one, you can scan the worn-out fabric to copy the pattern. Once you import that data into a computer, you can adjust the color tones and remove stains on the screen. Since kimonos are usually made by repeating patterns of about one meter, all you need is to scan that one stroke cleanly. Once it's in the computer, you can even change the background color.

Interviewer: So, it's a way to salvage patterns from worn-out antique kimonos?

Anno: Yes, at first, I was just copying them rather than redesigning them. I had some favorite obi patterns, so I scanned them and kept them for storage. For example, it's just a pattern of swirls drawn in pointillism, but they're all dyed from Ise katagami, so it's completely different from what you would get by digitally dotting it now. The intervals between each dot vary slightly, and each dot has a different expression, some are slightly longer or thinner. When you look at the whole thing, it creates a fluctuation. I think you can make things that look the same at first glance digitally, but the finish is completely different. So, I had the Ise katagami pattern scanned, inverted the colors, and made it into a komon pattern and then tailored it into a kimono. I tried two or three of those, and it was so much fun. Of course, I did it all for my personal kimonos.

Interviewer: So, did you start drawing patterns yourself from there?

Anno: Initially, when I told my teacher that I wanted to scan the patterns of summer clothes, which are often made of ro fabrics, she said they couldn't be scanned because the fabric itself is woven to be translucent to keep it cool. I was shocked, thinking, "Wait, isn't summer clothing more likely to get dirty and need to be scanned to preserve the pattern?" So, I decided to draw them myself.

Interviewer: I recall from an interview in a kimono magazine that you mentioned you couldn't scan them with a machine, so you memorized the patterns with your eyes and drew them by hand.

Anno: Right. Since the current patterns are copyrighted, I copy the antique patterns with my eyes. Instead of tracing them directly, I memorize the patterns I see in shops, bring them home, and draw them based on my impressions. In the process, I change the colors and rearrange them.

Interviewer: Even though you say it's just repeating patterns of one meter, isn't it still quite difficult if you can't visualize the entire bolt of fabric?

Anno: It's challenging. So, I made a lot of mistakes at first. It was like, "This wasn't supposed to happen" kind of feeling (laughs). I thought individual patterns were cute, but when I made them into kimonos, I realized, "Oh, this is how the pattern looks." But since the dressing instructor who taught me that you could print patterns was a professional, she would give me advice like, "If you want to bring out this pattern here, you should place it like this." So, I've been relying on her ever since, and in the end, she became the operator and designer for our digital work.

Interviewer: So, that dressing instructor ended up becoming the person behind "Hyakuyoudo"?

Anno: Yes, she's the one. Or rather, it's thanks to her that Hyakuyoudo came to be. If I had just been struggling alone to draw patterns and failed to make my own kimonos, Hyakuyoudo wouldn't have happened.

As I discussed with that dressing instructor and created various patterns, before I knew it, that's how it happened. Every time, she would say, "Do you want to try making this?" and it just naturally led to, "Should we sell this?" (laughs).

At first, I made patterns just for friends and staff who wanted them, sharing them as if I were giving away souvenirs. Eventually, people started asking for different colors, and each time, I made new colors for them. I made trial prints of one meter each, called "mass samples," by inkjet printing and changing the color patterns. It costs about 5000 yen to do one trial print. But I couldn't ask my friends to pay for the mass samples. Everyone would casually ask for slight changes, like wanting a bit more blue, so I went along with it. Before I knew it, people started saying, "Isn't this a kimono shop!?" and that's how I decided to start a kimono shop.

Interviewer: That's what led to the creation of Momoyado about two years ago.

Anno: Exactly. And then, even though I only had about two patterns on hand, the topic took off, and we received various media coverage. Eventually, we even got invited to a pop-up store at Isetan Shinjuku in Tokyo, and I thought I was going to die.

The origin of the name "Hyakuyoudo"

Interviewer: How many staff members are there?

Anno: We've increased to about 7-8 people since this year. Packing and shipping kimonos requires professional skills. If you just fold them and send them off, they'll shift around and get wrinkled inside, so you need to wrap the kimono in wrapping paper and insert paper to prevent it from shifting. That kind of work requires training. Also, it's difficult for amateurs to check for needles left in the kimonos after sewing. You often find a paper that says "Checked for needles" included when you buy a kimono, but you need someone to do that.

Interviewer: So, you need professionals just for shipping and inspection.

Anno: Yes. And at sales events, you need people who can dress customers and take measurements. We've started holding fitting events twice a year, and even then, you need someone who can wrap fabric like a kimono.

Interviewer: Ah, it's the process of fitting the fabric to the customer's body.

Anno: That's right. Customers can imagine themselves wearing it. Including the people who participate in the fitting events every time and those who always participate in regional events, there are quite a few.

Interviewer: And you're controlling all of that as the president?

Anno: No way, I couldn't do that. The dressing instructor supports the operation, so I just draw the patterns. The instructor arranges them properly as kimonos and places orders with digital printing companies.

Interviewer: Is it like necessary people naturally gather?

Anno: That might be true. When we suddenly got a request for an event at Isetan, someone who had been a store manager at a certain kimono shop for many years suddenly came to us saying they wanted to work at Hyakuyoudo, even though we weren't recruiting. It was incredibly lucky.

Interviewer: They're very persistent.

Anno: I still tell everyone that if S-san hadn't joined us then, we would have been crying at Isetan, clueless about everything like the setup. We didn't even know the rules for setting up displays at pop-up stores, and we somehow managed to make it work thanks to her joining us at the last minute. She kept bringing in salespeople who could dress customers. So, without the dressing instructor who supports the printing operation and her who supports the sales operation, Hyakuyoudo wouldn't exist.

Interviewer: Is the name Hyakuyoudo derived from your name, Moyoco-san?

Anno: Yes. And I hope to have about 100 patterns eventually (laughs). Initially, we only had about two, so I thought it would be nice to have about 100 base patterns.

Interviewer: Are all those 100 patterns drawn by you, Momoko?

Anno: Yes.

Sketches to elevate to the patterns I desire

Interviewer: So, have you been using the patterns of those kimonos for the cover of "Netsufū" all along?

Anno: No, there are plenty of different things. The patterns that look good in illustrations and the patterns that make lovely designs on actual kimonos are quite different.

Interviewer: Does studying dressing and patterns deeply affect the way you draw kimonos?

Anno: Yes, it does. The way people wear kimonos varies depending on their age and other factors. In the February issue's cover, there's a girl kneeling down, but that's actually because her foot has fallen asleep. Her foot is asleep, and she's trying her best to stretch it out by squeezing her thumb tightly.

Interviewer: I thought it was a beautiful illustration, but I didn't realize her foot was asleep (laughs).

Anno: Her foot is asleep. This girl doesn't really unbutton her collar that much. Also, she's pulling her neck quite tightly. But for older people or in the summertime, it's more stylish to have the collar a bit unbuttoned, or it gives a more realistic feeling of wearing it.

Interviewer: Drawing the ideas for each illustration, how do you usually come up with them? For example, the February issue features peaches.

Anno: Yes. I usually try to draw images of the upcoming season. So, for example, I thought about cherries for April, but it's better to capture a slightly earlier season.

Interviewer: I've heard that you struggled when you first started drawing patterns. What was difficult about it?

Anno: Making patterns is difficult. There are many people who can draw plants very well, but even if you draw plum blossoms realistically, they won't become a kimono pattern. Or even if you draw them in a manga-like style, at least I don't want such a kimono. It's very difficult to take it to the point where it becomes a pattern that I would want.

Interviewer: But Moyoco-san is essentially a professional artist. Is it still difficult for such a professional to imagine?

Anno: It doesn't work out. There are many things I started but then gave up on. I was really enthusiastic about making a kimono belt with cherry blossoms and night cherry blossoms this year, but I couldn't make it at all.

Interviewer: Could you explain a bit more about why it's so difficult?

Anno: It takes time, for one thing. There are already many different kinds of plant patterns, from abstract designs to patterns close to sketches, that have existed as antiques for a long time. But just copying those isn't enough. It's better to have existing patterns. At first, I thought that maybe if I copied existing patterns extensively and incorporated them into my imagination, reconstructing them, it might work. But no matter how much I did it, it didn't work. I wondered why it didn't work, but the fact is, if it's plum blossoms, you have to sketch them to death to make it work.

Interviewer: You have to confront the real thing until the plum or cherry blossoms are abstracted in your mind.

Anno: That's right. And then it takes quite a bit of horsepower to take it to the level of cuteness as a pattern. There's a pattern called "Mimosa" that I made this spring, and I got a lot of them from my friends.

Interviewer: It's your favorite flower, isn't it?

Anno: Yes. I received a lot of them last year and this year, and I was really moved, so I sketched them every day. As I drew a lot, I gradually understood the characteristics, and then I could draw the pattern without making it look exactly like the real thing. What I found cute about the mimosa was the cute overlapping leaves, and I started depicting them in the pattern. When you see the beauty of the maple leaves falling to the ground and the shadows of the maple leaves on the ground, you understand what people in the past thought about, and that helps with the pattern.

Interviewer: So you've transitioned from the step of copying to a more fundamental step.

Anno: That's right. But I still think I'm in the early stages of development. I've just realized that, and if you ask if I've succeeded, I haven't succeeded at all yet. It's just that I've finally realized that much.

Interviewer: You seem to really like plants.

Anno: Yes, but I also want to draw birds. The good thing about old Japan is that people loved nature so much, and there are kimono patterns with ears of rice that are only in season for about two weeks. Of course, I think only rich young ladies wear them, but I want people to wear them more casually. "Hyakuyoudo" also sells obi belts, and for example, with a reversible obi belt, you can use it for two different seasons, such as using tulip patterns for two weeks and then switching to chrysanthemum patterns.

Interviewer: Japanese people used to love nature so much. You want to incorporate that into your patterns.

Anno: Yes, I enjoy doing that kind of work. It's really nice nature… I also love daffodils, so I released a daffodil obi belt for this winter, but I thought it might be a little too much like a drawing of daffodils.

Interviewer: Oh, really (laughs).

Anno: While I was doing it, I thought it might be a little different, but it turned out cute, so I released it, thinking that someone might want it. Well, I still plan to draw various daffodils.

Interviewer: Do you observe landscapes and plants in your daily life?

Anno: I've always loved flowers, and the flowers I receive from the florist every week, I draw them every morning. I can't do it when I'm chasing manga deadlines, but I try to draw them every morning when I have time.

Interviewer: Is that for the kimono patterns?

Anno: Yes, it is. Once I draw them.

Interviewer: Do they make it into your drawings?

Anno: They do. They really do. So I try to draw them at least once during the season. I don't know if the leaves grow on the left and right together or alternately. But once I draw them properly…

Interviewer: You incorporate their presence into yourself.

Anno: That's right. You have to do it. Just looking at them doesn't cut it.

Interviewer: Do you ever look at botanical encyclopedias? Like the paintings by Tōtaro Makino from NHK's morning drama.

Anno: Yes, I do. Artists like Hisui Sugiura. His works were stored in a museum in Shibuya Ward, so I used to stop by and see them on my walks. There's an exhibition in Takasaki this spring, so I plan to go and see it. It's a good study to see where predecessors with excellent painting skills and artistic sense choose to focus. Like, which part of this flower, stem, or joint do they choose to depict? You start to understand what they like, such as liking stems. The kind of picture I want to turn into a pattern for the back of an obi belt isn't just a picture of the plant itself; it's like the base of a lily bud depicted as slightly plump. That's the kind of picture I want to carry on my back.

Interviewer: I see. So it's better when the fetish of the person who drew it is incorporated, isn't it?

Anno: That's right. It's definitely interesting when the feelings of the pattern designer are reflected.

Director Anno and Kimono

Interviewer: Do you ever go to the mountains to sketch plants?

Anno: Surprisingly, wildflowers that grow deep in the mountains aren't really suitable for kimono designs (laughs). They're unfamiliar, you know? If I were to use them as patterns, it might be better to focus on areas with lower elevations. Although the Kusamaki (Japanese shrub) is beautiful, the trees are too big and too far away to see clearly. So, I often use flowers sent from florists as my subjects. I've told them before that I always want something I can use as my motif. So, this year, I've been asking them to send me lots of plums. They've been sending them to me every week.

Interviewer: Do you have any flowers you always want to draw?

Anno: Yes, there are. It's quite a mysterious coincidence. The florist I mentioned is actually the daughter of a kimono shop owner. Although her family's shop has already closed down, since she grew up surrounded by kimonos, she knows what kind of plants would be suitable for kimono designs and sends them to me accordingly.

Interviewer: That's quite a fortunate coincidence.

Anno: Yes, it really is.

Interviewer: Now, in terms of the balance between your work on manga and creating kimono designs, how does that ratio look?

Anno: Well, one thing I've decided on is not to push myself too hard with kimono designs if they interfere with my manga work. Manga is my main job, so I don't want to struggle too much with patterns. The basic idea is always to create patterns that I and the people around me who love kimonos would want, so I always keep that in mind.

Interviewer: Among the cover illustrations you've done over the past two years, there are three instances where you depicted men wearing kimonos. Was there a particular reason for that?

Anno: It's because I feel men should wear kimonos more.

Interviewer: Including Director Hideaki Anno?

Anno: He doesn't wear them. I've tried to get him to wear one by buying things like Ultraman yukatas (light cotton kimono worn in summer) (laughs), but he never wears them.

Interviewer: It seems like it would suit him.

Anno: It doesn't. His legs are too long, so the position of the obi ends up being too high, making him look like a fool (laughs). He also tends to walk with his weight forward, walking all floaty like that. So, he ends up looking like Ganmo (a comic character drawn by Fujio Akatsuka).

Interviewer: Does Hyakuyoudo have men's kimono?

Anno: We've received several requests from men, but we still have few patterns specifically for men.

Interviewer: Nevertheless, designing kimono with polyester material is quite an innovative idea.

Anno: Yes, indeed. Considering the idea of making it easy for people to wear them regularly, it was important that they could be easily washed. When you send a regular kimono to the cleaners, it costs as much as buying a new one. Hemp juban (undergarment worn beneath a kimono) can be washed in a washing machine, which is great, but we're still in the prototype stage. The black ground with the Yukiwa pattern makes it suitable even for men.

Interviewer: Do you have any new ideas for the third year's cover starting soon?

Anno: I'm thinking of making it a bit more like ukiyo-e (Japanese woodblock prints) in style. Not just the design but also adding elements like the artist's signature, explanatory frames, and titles commonly seen in ukiyo-e. I'm considering making it a bit more decorative.

Interviewer: Speaking of ukiyo-e, you recently tweeted about visiting the Ota Memorial Museum of Art in Harajuku, Tokyo, and how deeply moved you were by the "Hiroshige Ojisan Zufu" (Illustrated Book of Mr. Hiroshige).

Anno: It was so much fun. In the landscape paintings by Utagawa Hiroshige, there are lots of tiny old men depicted, and when you look closely at their faces, each one has a different, expressive face, and they're all so cute. None of them have the same face. Some are walking alone, smiling, others look cold, some are happily eating lunch, and others are filled with relief upon finally reaching the inn.

Interviewer: You paid a lot of attention to the details.

Anno: Yes, the expressions of those who arrived at the inn are great. Although they are just extras in the big picture, the personalities of each of those extras are meticulously depicted. Along the Kiso highway, there are three somewhat suspicious-looking characters, sticking out their bellies or warming their backsides by the fire. Those three definitely seem like they could be horse thieves or something. At first glance, because the landscapes are the main focus of the painting, you wouldn't notice them unless you looked closely.

Interviewer: Indeed, you really have to pay close attention to notice.

Anno: Exactly. But when you look closely, it's amazing, isn't it? Apparently, it was first noticed by the curators of a local art museum, and they proposed the exhibition. I admire how they found it. Hiroshige would probably be happy to know that his work was noticed.

Interviewer: That's wonderful. We're looking forward to your ukiyo-e style cover illustrations, Moyoco-san.

Anno: Yes, I'll do my best! (laughs)

(This interview was conducted on April 10th.)

◇ Composition by Taku Yamashita.

First published: "Neppū" June 2023 issue (published by Studio Ghibli)

The Instagram account for Moyoco Anno's kimono brand "Hyakuyoudo" is regularly updated with the latest information.

Sources:

https://note.com/anno_moyoco/n/n611652bab695

https://www.hyakuyoudo.com/

https://www.instagram.com/hyakuyoudo/?hl=es

https://twitter.com/anno_moyoco

https://twitter.com/anno_moyoco/status/1757691347098911015?s=20

[wromwood]

All right. All done with reading The Princess Bride. Here are my final thoughts.

Movie’s better.

I’m still glad I stuck with the book and kept reading, even with the rough start I had for the first 50 pages. William Goldman--the real one, that is--is a good writer. He brought these memorable characters into existence, and wrote so many quotable lines that, word for word, were officially immortalized in the movie version. And while the writing style itself isn’t precisely my favorite, that’s mostly nitpicking. It’s still a good book, and I appreciated some of the extra stuff that it let me see, especially regarding Inigo and Fezzik. I was excited to see Inigo and Fezzik actually survive the five levels of the Zoo of Death. I liked seeing their backstories. Their reunion before the wedding was so sweet and made me smile. And I liked seeing more of Miracle Max and his relationship with his wife Valerie! There’s a lot in the book worth appreciating.

... but there’s also a lot in the book you wouldn’t miss.

Like I said before, I find it funny that the book is what advertises itself as the “good parts” version of this story. If that’s true, then the movie version is the “good parts” version of the book. Nearly every scene I read in the book that I recognized from the movie was longer in some way, and benefited from being trimmed in the adaptation. The movie’s dialogue is snappier, its pacing more exciting. When the book draws things out, it doesn’t always work. Sometimes, perhaps, but certainly not always.

And that’s not even mentioning the parts that I’m glad were cut entirely. I wasn’t interested in Buttercup’s bickering parents. The Countess was just a presence in the beginning that was never utilized again, and for that I’m glad. I’m SO glad Westley never hits Buttercup in the movie, nor tells her she’s now the property of the Dread Pirate Roberts and that she should do as she’s told. And, of course, there’s the adult life of William Goldman (the fictional one).

I don’t like the fictional Goldman. I don’t need to like all the fictional characters I read (hell, one of my favorite books has a protagonist you’re not SUPPOSED to like, who you’re SUPPOSED to not want to see succeed, and yet I was still so invested in him that I cried as everything fell apart for him near the end), but fictional Goldman just rubbed me the wrong way. I stopped trusting him as a narrative framing device, as the ruler of Morgenstern’s words.

Sure, I believed him when he said he abridged the original story the way he did. Sure, I believe he’s doing this out of love for the book. But I didn’t believe his REASONS for doing it. I didn’t believe his mantra about how life isn’t fair. When he brought it up at the very end, I rolled my eyes and thought, “How the hell did we grow up with the same story?” How can you be raised on a romantic idea of The Princess Bride, where all the characters, despite all the odds, find each other and achieve their goals, where Wesley and Buttercup get together at the end, and still turn out like this?

You, fictional Goldman, are no loving grandpa (or, in your case, father) telling this story to someone who needs it most.

I want to make it clear- I’m not trying to insult the real William Goldman or his writing abilities. In fact, since he adapted the book for the movie, I like to think that the movie is him refining his original work. After all, if the author himself was able to shave down the bumpy bits, take out bits that are really extraneous, improve things tenfold, and leave in everything that worked, all while keeping most of the dialogue and plotpoints totally intact? That’s proof that he learned how to make this story the best possible version of itself.

All in all, I’m glad I read this book, but I won’t be returning to it again. It’s a good story, but not the one I love. Fortunately, that perfect version has already proved that it will stand the test of time.

Life may not be fair, but it does have miracles. One of those miracles is the movie version of The Princess Bride.

[br1ghtestlight]

my thoughts on what happened w/ the (many many) absent father figures on bob's burgers

mr frond was the result of a very short relationship between his mom and dad. was raised by his single mom and never even met his dad (dad might not even know frond exists) which led to a lot of attachment issues as a kid that followed him into his adulthood. scared of having children bcuz he's worried that he would abandon them in the same way his dad abandoned him and he doesn't want them to grow up without a father

teddy's dad was around when he was a kid but he was pretty abusive and terrible and didn't like teddy all that much. he wasn't the son his dad wanted. he was abusive towards teddy's mom and sister too and teddy found himself w/ responsibility to defend them and be the peacekeeper in the family. they finally got divorced when teddy and his sister were adults and in college/navy and teddy didnt really keep contact with his dad after that. his dad died when he was in his late 30s which brought up some COMPLICATED emotions he simply does not have time to unpack. he also has mother issues but its easier to ignore those and have a relationship with her

mort's dad went on long business trips for most of his childhood so he didn't really see his dad all that much and they didn't have a great relationship. basically raised by a single mom w/ financial support from his dad who would visit every few months and bring him like a Keychain or something but he didn't really care to get to know his son or his interests. when mort was a teenager it came out that his dad had been cheating on his mom with other women throughout his childhood so they got seperated and his dad moved out (not that he really lived with them to begin with) and probably got into a relationship with a younger woman or something idk. he died when mort was in his 30s or 40s but they barely kept in contact so it wasn't a huge emotional thing for mort. his dad DID request that mort do his funeral service and cremation in his will which was kinda his way of showing his support and love for his son and his passion/job. mort did the service and it was Not awkward at all (lying)

bosco's dad was around for his childhood and was very strict and generally kinda terrible and miserable (as was his mom. and so is bosco tbh) like a real asshole who punished his kids for the tiniest mistakes and never said i love you or ANYTHING. alcoholic. fought with bosco's mom all the damn time and made life miserable for him and gary even though gary was obviously their parents favorite. refused to get divorced even though they made each other miserable in that 80s sitcom type of way and when bosco was in his early 20s and going through school and everything his dad had a medical emergency and died before he had grandkids etc. bosco has a very weird complicated relationship with his dad and his memory and considers him both somebody he never wanted to become and also his biggest inspiration in life who he wanted to impress. always hyped grandpa up to his kids but also resents him for his fucked up childhood and emotional state. god help him

[illness]

After a rough year of health, my grandpa departed from this plane about 28 hours ago. I’m treating myself kindly, but my heart has a noticeable absence inside.

He was a guy who always, always did everything for everyone – if you need your deck restained? Done. Need a new shower? Give him like a week and it’s there. Want a new window? Yeah dude he had it done in a day or two. Like. A tree fell through this man’s ceiling and he had it tidied up, with assistance, in a week. When my mom needed a ramp for her wheelchair in her final months, he had it made in a few days. He got shit done, always with others in mind.

He was also secretive with a lot of things; we knew he was declining over the past year just by looking at him, his tremors, a noticeable decrease in blood flow. But he was still doing jobs and painting houses. He was just that kind of guy and I respected it heavily. I envy it still. Everything he labored was with love and care that you could not find from anyone else. He amazed me.

He was preceded in death by the love of his life, we’ll call him Dean. I never met Dean – he passed a little before the turn of the century, so I only know him in stories. They helped raise my mother together – her mom wasn’t in the picture for much of her adolescence, but those two were. My mom only ever spoke in adoration of them. Things weren’t stable and they moved a lot, but they had love – and they always had her. I knew he did experience a few hate crimes, around the 60s or 70s, which breaks my heart. I never brought up his sexuality with him – mainly because it wasn’t my business, and I felt no need to prod at him about this open familial secret – but I wish he could have lived in the time that I do right now. Even with all its trials and tribulations. Despite all that… he had many admirers. Male and female. A real ladykiller. That did come with some stalking… he had a man who was highly interested in him try to sneak in through the dog door in his house. 🫣 even still, I can see where they’re coming from… he was a stud!

Speaking on my mother, my grandpa would move mountains for her. When we would go on our little beach excursion every year, he would go to our house and always fix something up or add some new fixture. I remember him totally redoing our kitchen, our bathroom, our dingy little porch in the back… we would be gone for a week max, so he would check on our animals and workshop. He still did this even in a damn recession. No cost, no questions, just love.

And the animals he had! He grew up on a farm with a slew of sisters and a few brothers, and he just always had something. He had these gorgeous salukis with my mom when she was growing up, and once he got his own house, he would always have his own dog and a crowd of stray cats that he would inevitably befriend. He even rescued a baby squirrel and raised it before trying to send it back into the wild – I think it stuck around in his backyard for the most part, still visiting him and climbing on his his shoulders. The animal who held his heart the most was Sam, a golden retriever my mom picked out herself and gifted him. He lived to about 8 or 9, but that was his soul animal.

Following Dean, the other loss that changed him was my mom. It’s almost been half a decade since she left, and I knew that broke him. His only daughter gone before 50 – what do you do? I don’t know. But he still kept my sister and I in mind, always, making sure we were set. He left us a house – the same house we all grew up in, with decades of work inside. All for my sibling and I to live comfortably. A house with the most beautiful backyard full of elephant ears, hydrangeas, tulips, pea pods. A backyard that I spent hours running around in, with a shed that’s got tools for days and a fully working kitchen. Somehow.

I don’t know where I’m really going with this. The fact that he spent so many of his final years making sure our family would be okay, to set up this level of comfort for us – I have been musing over it constantly these past few days.

Something I loved about him was how comfortable with silence he was. I would walk with him and his dog in the neighborhood as a child, rattling off sentences constantly, and he just nodded and listened. As I got older, I became quieter for a multitude of reasons. I remember just sitting in the yard while he did his work, never feeling pressure to talk – we didn’t need to. Taking in nature instead of forcing small talk. I never thought that I would miss not saying anything with him, because there’s so much I wish I could have asked him, even still. Though I regret not opening up more, I still look upon the quiet fondly. He appreciated it, and I appreciated him for it.

I’m going to miss him a lot. Understatement. Getting older has been very hard on me and I’m not even at a quarter of a century yet, lol. My heart is sore but I am eternally grateful for what he’s taught me and what he has left for our family to continue on with.

I will close this jumble of words with my favorite story about him. One day, circa early 70s, my grandpa calls out of work and tells his boss he’s sick. Really, he just wanted to take his daughter to the park with her mother/his spouse at the time. Conveniently, someone with the local paper is there and snaps a quick pic of the group after a brief chat.

The next day, he’s reading the paper, checking the weather for the week… and then he sees it:

I don’t know if his boss found out or if there were repercussions, but it’s still my favorite thing to recount. It’s just such a thing he would absolutely do. I love it.

No amount of words could properly sum up who he was, truthfully. He was one in a trillion, and I am grateful that I had the honor of being part of his time on Earth. I had a less-than-stellar childhood and upbringing at times, but he was always a safe space for me. It’s a high honor to be a man in my life with little flaw – he is one of the few I can bestow that upon. I can’t exaggerate just how much of a beacon of light he was in our lives.

I’m grateful that I was able to hold his hand as he transitioned, becoming free of the ailments that tried to rescind his independence. I will never know what waits for us after life, but I’d like to think that he is in some sort of heaven – adding a fresh coat of paint onto the pearly gates, dozens of animals and people eagerly awaiting his arrival. I know he’s back with the loves of his life, the ones he longed for from the moment they departed; his daughter, his Dean, and his Sam-bone. How beautiful and deserved that is for him, my Papa, to be free of decades-long grief. ❤️

[charlieslowartsies]

i know you like both fnaf and batim, im curious if youve every thought about what would happen in a protagonist swap. ik aus and hypotheticals arent for everything, but i personally think it would be funny to drop mike and henry in eachothers universes. i think theyre both do well tbh, but regardless its a little funny to think about

I've tried answering this 2x and tumblr kept punting it into orbit but akjasjkasj here we go.

The Short answer: This is a cute idea! I did play with an Xover concept where Mike Schmidt from the KGA wandered into the old Studio he found back in the woods, and he eventually met Make Believe's Henry Stein post the first fic. Mike--being himself, ofc--decided to stick around and help in any way he could. He also got laid. That's a different concept than a good old switcheroo ofc.

There's more on that here, but not a big discussion on stuff, just what if arts from years ago.

The Long Answer:

At the end of the day, I know I kinda write Mike Schmidt and Henry Stein as different flavors of the same drink. Or even just, Mike is cherry cola and Henry Stein is a warm cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

They both have a found family thing going on in their central story arcs. Can you tell I like that theme? (With the major difference being Mike more or less consented to being dragged into the Pizzeria's past, and Henry stays in his situation out of deep seated guilt at his coworkers, a sense of obligation toward Bendy, and perhaps some honest fear of returning to the outside world as well after his time in the War.) Obviously Mike wasn't super cool with giving up his life, sure--but what he gained in return, (His health restored, ghostly superpowers, enhanced senses, a family that loves and accepts him as much as he admires them in turn, and a sense of purpose that makes him feel like he's living a life that makes a difference) made his choice the easier of the two I think.

In the KGA, Mike is top dog because he's the Suit of Fredbear, and then ofc he bonds with the gang from there. In MB, Henry is the true reluctant leader, and any say he has is earned when and because Norman and the others choose to give it. Sammy proves that for sure. Yes, there's a lot of fear of Bendy from Allison, Tom and Sammy, but they don't fear Henry. Henry also doesn't use Bendy's wrath and power to get his way--not that Mike is a bully either, but he's more confident than Henry and more adept at using Fredbear's powers to help him out, even just day to day mundane tasks.

Mike is the brainier of the two, but he's also the stupider when it comes to protecting those he loves. Henry is the draftsman, the studier, the thinker. He makes far more calculated moves and relies instinctively on Norm and the others to be there, or straight up defers to their judgement more than he dishes out orders. I headcanon he was a medic in the army, and if Freddy Fazbear is based off my Grandpa, then Henry Stein is based off my Poppy, who served World War II, and told stories to my dad of cleaning out tanks that...came back with bodies in them. Henry's time in the war changed him, and when he returned and entered the studio to see what his old pal wanted, his life was flung right back into what is, to him, another war zone. That's got to mess a person up, yanno?

What I like about your concept is that the first time I read it, I went "gee, there wouldn't be any difference. I'm just writing the same story with same characters, that sucks. ...how do I admit that in this ask that?"

And then later that night I paused and thought better of my initial assumptions. 'Wait a second...Mike and Henry aren't carbon copies. They don't even have the same humor.'

Henry and Mike are so much alike for sure, and so very different. Even just the obvious aside--Mike's world is full of the supernatural! ...but it's also got one foot firmly planted in reality. Fredbear is not flaunted. Mike can come and go as he pleases. He tries to be normal, he and the gang hide their true natures and pretend well for kids and adults alike. The world goes on around them, but they do go with it. The Gang ages. They had their restaurant, and then they do traveling parties when it becomes only a home base. His Animatronics are 'real' and 'functional' and their history--horrible as it was--was also one with kids and laughter and fun. Henry didn't get any of that. He never saw BendyLand, he didn't encourage Joey's actions.

Henry's world is Nothing but Supernatural, and he's still just as trapped in it as Bendy is bound to the End Reel. He can't go the store, grab some eggs and milk. If thunder rumbles overhead, Mike groans, looks for something to ground himself on. Henry might jerk back to war time, or the Studio, and be scrambled by the appearance of weather, which was not in the Loop. No sun, no night sky. There's a lot of humanity in being around other people. Mike is such a people person, and he sees in the Fazes what is only there because they were haunted. (Otherwise, yeah, they're kinda just...mechanical AIs.) Henry knows these people he lives with on the first floor were human once, he's relieved to have their company and also feels terrible about. He's afraid to let them get close, (the Projectionist being the one to ignore this lmao.)

It's two types of tragedies, and in both lives were cut short in different ways. Mike and Henry feel responsible for both sides, but they don't respond the same.

It's a lot of weight to carry on one's shoulders, and I sort of think Mike carries it better, or a little healthier, at least. He isn't shy or hesitant, Freddy pushed him away the most and Mike pushed right back. He didn't take any abuse, but he got past those walls and taught Fredbear it was okay to trust and to talk about problems.

Dropping Mike into MB's world would, naturally, be chaos. Mike is kind of walking chaos. Marion would prolly follow him--Mari follows the night guard everywhere, because as much as he brags about how good Mike is at his role, he worries so hard over Mike because Mike is always getting into trouble. (Which, fair.) Mari also doesn't like following rules, unless they're rules he set. He doesn't play nicely with others and he would quickly try to work his tendrils into the Studio, try to gain some upperhand, some semblance of control or even just find Answers to the puzzles around them. Mike would be utterly fascinated with the Ink Machine, wanting to see how it worked, and why, and if it needed repairs, and be interested in taking it apart to figure it out. Goldy's status would be useless here, so even tho Mike has his wits and strength, he wouldn't have the same level of respect he is used to in the restaurant or warehouse, or even Pizza World and not the Pizza plex.

Mike's also magnetic as hell. He'd take one look at Norm and be up in his grill too, delighted and friendly and finding the terror cool. He'd fix anything he thought needed it, that includes busted light bulbs or unhappy, self conscious little ink blots that need their ego's stroked and to be assured no, they're not Abominations. Mike isn't afraid of Nightmaronnie, and once he realizes the Ink Demon is Bendy, (if he was split from Henry which would be it's own issues.) he'd eventually apply the same logic as he did to the Puppet all those years ago, and see a scared little kid who needs some comfort and to know he has support.

Henry...would fit in less well in the KGA. He wouldn't be in danger from the Fazes of course, but he's an Adult, and he's a Male, and he's a STRANGER. And that sets off all sorts of warnings in the back of their minds. Makes them unsure and wary to the point of being unkind, cold. Unlike Mike, whose curiosity gets him in trouble, Henry would recognize to back off and tread lightly. Their children that haunted them accidentally passed on a deep seated fear of older, male authority figures, and not even Mike blames them for that. Max carries it too, and Gregory is about the only one who would be the most approachable...or the more willing TO approach Henry. He's young, but his situation is different and kids are rubber bands. By now, the best, most important thing in his world--tall, deep voiced, and strong Glamrock Freddy--keeps his opinion in Henry's favor, because they're both calm and careful in the similar ways. If Bendy is with Henry, that's another winner. Bendy loves kids, he loves kids desperately, enthusiastically, obsessively. He WANTS to prove he's worthy of what Joey Drew put on him when he was Created, that he's the most darling dancing devil there ever was. If Cartoon him can make Gregory smile/laugh, Bendy will be over the moon, and Glamrock Freddy will have to learn to share quickly, because like Mari, Bendy is a possessive little devil.

Even if Max, Ness, and Freddy are keeping Henry on a tight, wary leash, I can see Henry giving in to them easily. He's not out to make waves, or step on anyone's toes. Being docile like that will help him out big time with them. Mike might cause trouble on accident lmao. Henry would also be kind of panicky, kind of freaked out. Worrying about the Studio, his friends, Bendy being loose, what Joey's up to on the lower levels. Mike would honestly be more worried about his next meal being just bacon soup and realizing he can't be a bottomless pit because he won't take food from these...ink...monsters? ...ink people? (If Chica offered Henry an olive branch in the form of a meal, Henry might break down and Ghibli cry at the taste of real, inkless, clean food. That earns him points with her at least. Double if he tries cleaning up because he never let Linda do the dishes.)

I wrote so much I'm so sorry lmao. Thank you for this ask anon!! It's a fun concept to explore! I wish I had more energy to do so, but I just got a new tattoo last night and my brain is french fried xD

[msookyspooky]

I’m struggling through writing so here’s a sneak peek of ‘a little mad sometimes’!😊 Our focus is Vince Schneider!

Sometimes, Uncle Stu would talk about all the crazy stuff he’d get up to back in high school. Apparently, throwing parties at the Macher Farmhouse was a common thing since grandma and grandpa were rarely at home when Uncle Stu was growing up. From what Vince heard, they were like something out of a 90’s movie with a bunch of teenagers getting drunk and going wild.

Vince could safely say he wasn’t much the same.

It was a Saturday night, and he was at home watching reruns of the ‘Twilight Zone’ in all its black and white color, with a sad bowl of popcorn, and a soda.

Sometimes, Vince wondered what he was doing with his life.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so lonely if Izzy was here. Usually she was, the two of them were best friends and Saturday movie nights were their weekly ritual, but the other teenager hadn’t been feeling well at all the past week, not even to Skype, and so it was just Vince and the sound of Rob Sterling’s voice on the TV.

‘There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity.’

Vince sighed as he threw another handful of popcorn into his mouth. No doubt, Sam was probably up to some sort of trouble right now that would end in another screaming match between her and Uncle Billy. Tara was probably at a friend’s house (he had gotten a text from Izzy earlier that Tara was going to a sleepover); and of course, Izzy was sick.

Maybe Uncle Stu was right that he needed more friends.

Vince hardly paid attention to the TV, as much as he loved the show and liked discussing it with Izzy, he had too many thoughts on his mind. No one at school had been too much of an asshole lately, but there were always the few who made snide comments about how his only friends were a bunch of girls.

He mentioned it to his mom, who had simply said, “Well, fuck those people. Who cares what they think.”

Vince wished he had her confidence, had her and Uncle Stu’s confidence. He tried, but he always felt like he was falling short in everything he did.

Maybe it was just some sort of ‘teenager thing’, like Izzy said. Something that they’d all grow out of as they got older. Izzy was more often than not the one of them who seemed like nothing could get to her, and seemed to drop advice that seemed obvious in hindsight. That was one of his favorite things about her, how she could read people so well and was far more observant then he was.

He’d lost the bet to her about who Janie Cross was seeing afterall. Turns out, she had pulled something similar to the triplets’ mom and was cheating on her boyfriend with another guy. Izzy had known weeks before anyone else at school did!

Vince leaned his head back against the coach cushions. God, he really was a lonely loser right now, wasn’t he?

The sound of the phone ringing nearly sent him out of his seat.

Vince grumbled, and let it ring. It was the landline, and he was still surprised they even had one, so hopefully whoever it was would just quit after a bit.

Except it kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

“For fuck’s sake,” Vince swore under his breath as he got up and strode to the kitchen, pulling the phone and answering the call. He idly noticed the ‘unknown’ on it but answered anyway. If answering stopped them from calling again he’d do it.

“Macher House, who is this?”

Vince tried not to make his voice sound so clipped. Mom raised him with manners afterall.

“Oh hi there! Sorry, is Leslie there?”

Vince rolled his eyes as he grabbed another soda and threw another pack of popcorn into the microwave. Good god, please tell him this isn’t his mom’s new boyfriend. He grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Izzy.

‘Really wish you were here. I think my mom’s newest bf just called the house.’

“‘afraid not, and once again, who is this so I can take a message?” Vince leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, uh, this is David. I’m just a, uh, friend of Leslie’s.”

“Uh huh, well ‘David the Friend’,” Vince spoke, “you wanna tell me how you know my mom?”

“Oh! So you’re Vincent then!”

“Yes, I am,” Vince covered the dishes in the sink with a quick dash of dish soap and covered them with water to soak. They were always a pain to clean if he didn’t do that beforehand, “so you wanna answer my question?”

“We know each other from uh, a class we both take. If you could please just tell her that David from class called-“

“Sure I will, once you tell me why you’re calling my mom,” Vince idly kept his eyes on the rapidly expanding bag of popcorn in the microwave; couldn’t these things go faster?

The man chuckled on the line, “You’re a lot like how she talks about,”

“Really now, and what does my mom say about me?” It was a boring Saturday night and Vince figured he could use some entertainment. Not even the Twilight Zone seemed to be cutting it right now.

“Well, she says she loves you very much and that she’s quite proud of you. She says you’re a huge fan of movies, especially horror movies I believe…”

There was a long pause, and for a second Vince thought they’d gotten cut off.

“Say, Vince,”

The voice had a darker tone to it now, the friendliness gone, and Vince suddenly felt cold.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

~~~

I very much took inspo from Scream 5 opening with Tara and just ran with it😂. Just wanted to share another Sneak Peek since a good chunk of the story is from Izzy’s POV, so I thought it’d be interesting to have Vince’s😊. Also, I apologize for any grammar mistakes 😂. Hope you enjoyed reading it! I seriously appreciate how much you and everyone contributed to the Unholy Trinity AU😊

I love it!! Ngl Vince seemed so one dimensional in Scream 5 (They all did except the Meeks twins and Wes and Tara) so I like the idea of him being a normal tee in HS and maybe something happened along the way that changed him. Maybe Uncle Stu got ahold of him being Stu and told him get a car and be an ass girls love that and oop it worked and he never went back :/ Either way, I love your writing and I find it interesting to read about minor characters like Vince and his backstory!!

[kqtmansmokeschronic]

i cant really vent this anywhere else because of little stalkers and trolls and such, but fuck. my grandpa helped raise me because my mom had to raise 3 kids alone, his healths been up and down the past few years but last night... he had a fucking stroke and now he is in the hospital and its real. He's not dying anymore, hes dead and we're all just waiting to find out he gone, including himself, i cant imagine what he feels right now...this hurts so much. He was my male role model as a kid i didnt have anyone else and i was shy i didnt have alot of friends... i hung out with my grandparents. I love them so much man and the same day the same exact day, my beautfuil rescue dog who i rescued when i very very first got clean and im 10 years sober now, she helped me through it all she supported me there nights she kept me going i didnt have the same support that i do now my mom knows my needs when im in a mood like that and my boyfriend keeps me keeping my head up and walking forward but not because hes commanding or strict hes laid back but i keep going forward for him i want to make a life with him and before i had given up i thought i did everything and it was just waiting for my time to come as my grandpas but he saved me forreal he turned my life around so much so i have the support now but my baby, my poor undeserving of any pain little baby has been having seizers daily for a while now, but just one, the other day she didnt just have 2 but 3 and now for a few days thats the norm. for weeks she has a terrible cough like a hairball but there is no hair she just vant breathe and i saw both her eyes are cloudy she has cataracts in both of them and shes lost weight you couldnt feel her spine before at all and now its poking out, she doesnt seem to be able to eat as much food and her balance and everything is off its just one by one by one then the seizures so we (me and my om) knew... where this ends up but have done the best to keep her pain free and healthy and loved but at this poin. She is suffering, and she's suffering more and more as each day goes by, i guess selfishly and morbidly i hoped she would pass naturally because choosing is so hard. but she's suffereing and it not fair to make her suffer just so i can give her a few more treats and get a few more face full of kisses. I have to let my sweetheart go because if i dont i'll be hurting her...and its making me cry so hard right now just even considering i could ever hurt her in any way i could never. i wanted my boyfriend tto meet her... i wanted him to see what my life is and whats gotten me this far and to him and if he walks into the house and she isnt there he's going to miss a big reason im here its only a week away but i dont know if its humane to just not do it until after just so he can meet her... unless the vet says thats okay or wants a appt later anyway i just i have such a migraine i literally need to go to the ER but of course its my pick up day to get my takehomes from the methadone clinic cause i need my MAT(medication assisted treatment) but i cant stop crying and it keeps flaring tthe pain in my head and i just hope i can go to sleep and not have to go to the ER but i dont know i might have to. I love you isaac. i need you so much. even when im sick and anxious and can barely speak having you there is the only thing that stops the sheer panic and terror you bring me back into reality and you mean everything to me

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

[ryozoro]

Hades Playlist - ii.

NOW PLAYING: Vampire [Dominic Fike]

cw; nothing really, very small mentions of manipulation and murder

an: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD , THINGS GOT BEHIND SCHEDULE :(

“The curious are always in some danger. If you are curious, you might never come home.” – Jennette Winterson

She couldn’t get him off her mind; ever since she met him, all her thoughts have led back to the droopy eyes and the slick back hair that seemed a lot softer than what the gel presented it as. The whole idea of her thoughts tracing back to the eldest of the Haitani’s and her heart beats mimicking each time the octave of his voice dropped with every word he spoke to her, made yn almost forget all the rules her big brother placed when it comes to men.

Why does she yearn to be in the presence of someone who would not hesitate to take her life for a laugh amongst his gang? Why does she want to run into the back allies of each street in hopes of accidentally bumping into him? Why isn’t she able to use common sense and erase the memory of him out of her head? Why does she feel like fate has strung their paths together on purpose? Why – you know what? Maybe she latched onto Ran so fast in hopes of forgetting someone else that continued to plague her mind daily. Maybe she is becoming obsessed with idea of someone not seeing her as a kid. That has to be it, right? Ran, ‘Tani-Senpai,’ shares the same interest and even wants to talk to her later as if they have been old friends. That has to be it —

“Yn!” her brother’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay, ya idiot?” She took note that everyone at the table was staring at her, waiting for her to answer Draken’s question. “You’ve been spacing out since we got here,” Draken frowned as he plucked a piece of food from her plate, “are you sure that nothing happened on your bike ride to the shop?”

“If you were riding to the shop, I would have gladly picked you up,” Inupi chimed in with a soft smile. “I told you to treat me like I’m another older brother.”

“Hm,” yn hummed while avoiding eye contact with the blonde man, “wanted to surprise my troll of a brother and I figured you were off because its Tuesday.”

“Ah,” Inupi gently laughed as he watched her play with her food, “you remembered my schedule?”

Of course, she remembered his schedule. Yn knew almost everything about him; from the origins of his beautiful burn mark to his favorite snack in the vending machine back at the shop, yn knew and fell in love with it all. Draken always teased her about being in love with Mikey or Hakkai since she always seemed relaxed around them, but little did he know that his little sister was in love with his best friend and business partner.

“I’m honestly shocked that you kept it the way you did,” yn side-eyed him as she raised the other hand to pick at the bandages that wrapped along the underside of her jaw, “but at the same time, I’m not that shocked considering old people love to stick to their schedules. Wouldn’t want you straining your back, Oji-chan.”

Inupi laughed – God, she loved that laugh - whole heartedly to the point he began choking on his food. Of course, sitting with their friends and family, Inupi’s contagious laugh spread amongst the others and the people around them either ignored it very well or gave them silent glares in hopes they would stop; surprise, they did not. Hell, if anything, it got worse – so much worse – to the point that Mikey, Takemichi, and Chifuyu all fell out of their chairs.

“I – what did I say that was so funny?” yn pouted as she fished her phone out of her pocket, “I just called him the old man he was.”

“That’s why, brat,” draken flicked her forehead and chuckled, “we had made a few bets on what you would say when Inupi had talked to you. Surprisingly, Mitsuya guessed you would have called him a grandpa.” Draken and the others proceeded to give Mana’s big brother 200 yen as they got up off the floor and calmed down.

“So, Yn,” Takemichi looked her in the eyes with a dopey flushed face.

“Watch it ‘ Mitchy,” Kazutora playfully warned, “don’t wanna embarrass the poor girl since she just got back.”

“What is it, crybaby,” she asked hesitantly as she scanned over his face, noting signs of mischief lurking in the corners of his smile. “It better not be something stupid, or else I’m telling Hina-san about what you did last time you came over to the shop.”

“Oi, you’re so mean – just like your brother,” Takemichi pouts and fans his hands towards you, “but it’s just a simple question, neh.”

Yn enjoyed Takemichi’s presence more than someone from an outside point of view would have thought. He always served as a hero in her eyes as he saved Mikey from the dark path he began to walk and how he constantly reminded her brother on how much his deceased lover, Sano Emma, watches over him and guides him to all the good things that happens in his life. He was an amazing guy and one that she wished had set her expectations for her taste in men, but her heart yearns for those who are completely out of her grasp.

“Just ask or else I’m calling Hina-san,” yn smirked as she brought her phone screen into view for Takemichi to see that “Hina-san <3” contact was pulled up and only one press away from being dialed.

“Oh, you bully!” Takemichi sighed dramatically, “I was just going to ask how long you have been into gilfs?” Draken choked on his drink and Pah-chin was patting his back in hopes of easing the rough coughs. Everyone at the table began to cause even more ruckus with tears of laughter as yn sat there dumbfounded.

“w-what,” she scratched her head and looked around the table in hopes of someone taking note of her clear ignorance at the word that Takemichi had claimed her to be attracted to. Since no one answered, she decided to speak on her own, “what the hell is a gilf?” Much to yn’s dismay, the table went silent for a brief second before bursting out into an even louder fit of laughter. “Well?! What the hell is it?”

“Yn, love,” Smiley spoke between hiccups and giggles, “it’s the same thing as a Dilf or Milf, but for old people.” After he finally finished his sentence, he leaned against his twin and laughed even harder.

“I-,” yn stood up and threw her dirtied napkin and spoon at the man who made the joke, “I’m not attracted to gilfs you fuckin idiot.” Yn moved behind Takemichi and put him in a headlock, “what made you even think to say that ya CD sellin’ pervert.”

“Oi,” Draken said from above her, “let ‘Mitchy go or else I’m taking you back all the way to Fukurodani and asking them to volunteer you for the summer school tutoring.” Yn dropped her arms in defeat and made her way back to her seat. “And you,” Takemichi looked up at her brother with a teary-eyed smile, “go clean your hair up before your wedding. It’s in three days and anyone can tell you pick at your split ends during your down time at work.” Draken laughed as Takemichi’s expression turned into a pout and he began punching Draken’s solid abdomen.

“Oh,” Angry stood up abruptly, “yn, could I see ya outside really quick?” Despite his rough tone, everyone knew he was asking in the kindest way possible.

“Yeah, sure,” yn got up with a pout and made her way to the exit with Angry trailing her with a hand on her mid-back. She was confused as to why they went outside at such a fast pace, but she just assumed that Angry wanted peace and quiet away from the others. “So,” yn smiled at the younger twin, “what did you – why is your face angrier than usual?” She titled her head at the man but he was quick to grab her hand and guide her towards his bike.

“Hop on,” he straddled the seat and waited for her to do the same, “don’t worry, Draken texted me to take you back to me and Nahoya-nii’s shop. So… hurry up, please.” Souta stopped her right before she got on and placed a helmet on her head, “safety first because I’ll hurt you if you get hurt,” he said as he proceeded to adjust the straps enough to keep her safe and comfortable. “Get on, Princess,” he kicked up the kick stand and took off fast out the parking spot.

“So – uh,” yn spoke aloud as they arrived at a stop light, “why did nii-chan tell ya to take me to the shop… I wasn’t done eating.” She felt her stomach rumble and she pressed her cheek to Angry’s leather cladded shoulder blade and readjusted her grip on his waist as they began moving towards the backroads to get to the Kawata’s Ramen shop.

“I’ll make you a bowl when we get there,” he relaxed his upper body so yn wasn’t laying against hard muscles, “and we left because everyone kept staring at you.”

“Psh,” yn rolled her eyes, “they were staring because I am a strong, independent woman who managed to put a MAN in a headlock like a bad bi-.”

“Enough of your ‘bad bitch’ talk, I believe you, but I promise you that was not the reason.” Angry spoke through a breathy laugh, “the cook and the table in the corner was kept looking over you. Don’t you think it was weird how when they brought our orders out and Draken said your rice was missing an egg and the cook came out and apologized himself?”

Yn pondered on the question for a bit but then shook her head gently and nuzzled inbetween the center of Angrys’s back, “no, to be honest, I thought that the cook just hates when he messes up. It can’t be that deep, yanno? Oh! Maybe they mistook me as an idol?” She felts Angry’s laugh bubble from his chest to his shoulder blades; Souta’s laugh honestly made her feel like her jokes were genuinely funny to listen to.

“Hate to break it to you,” Angry brought the bike to a gentle stop as the arrived towards the ramen shop, “but you don’t present yourself as the ideal image of the idol you probably think you are.” Yn joined Souta in the small fits of laughter as she gently punched him in his side.

“Oh, shut up,” she let out a soft breath as she hopped off and carried the helmet with her as she made her way to the employee back door. “Open up, yeah? ‘M reeeeeally hungry.”

“Already ahead of you, ya dumb brat,” Angry bumped his hip gently against yn’s and unlocked the door and pushed her inside. They placed their helmets and jackets off in the staff room and made their way towards the kitchen where she sat at bar stools and Angry started up the stove to boil a few eggs and moved to chop up some green onions. “You want beef or chicken, idiot?”

“Sheesh, souta-kun, if ya wanted to marry me – just say that,” Yn teased as she propped her head onto her two hands, “your terms of endearment have been getting sweeter and sweeter by the minute~ but! I do want chicken please, been not feelin like eating cow and pigs lately.”

“Yer annoying,” angry threw a small, chopped onion at her, “in your dreams I’d marry you. Plus, I KNOW I’m not your type. You go for mechanics with burn marked boys that work with your brother -,”

“OKAY, NOT NEEDED,” Yn pressed her face to the counter, “asshole… He’s my type, but I’m not his. He’s like, Makima and I’m Denji… please tell me you understand that because it’s the best I got.”

“I understand it, and I just want to say that that is the most tragic thing I have heard from you in a while – oh, but back to the restaurant,” Angry said as he slid a small chocolate mochi from out the freezer and towards yn on a cute, small plate, “there was a customer who went into the back the second he heard that your order was wrong. I thought it was weird because what cook comes out that frightened when they get someone’s order wrong, but then your brother texted me saying that every man there had their eyes on you as if they were in charge of watching your every move. At first, Hakkai noticed some of the men sporting a ‘Bonten’ tattoo on their wrist, so we thought maybe they were after Mikey, but then Mitsuya texted us when he went to the bathroom that he heard some of the guys saying your name. Once that was said, Draken immediately told me to take you away from there… I do have a question for you though.” Angry began whipping up the ramen in the most tasteful way and side-eyeing the young ryuguji, “did you by chance get into it with a few Bonten member’s when you first got here? Is that why you’re all bandaged up?”

“Souta,” yn felt her heartbeat pick up but remained composed, “nothing happened with what ever ‘Bonten’ members… you know how weird some gangs are…”

“I trust you, brat,” Angry’s frown deepened once he noticed that the eggs were ready to be cut and the chicken was ready to be fried, “I just don’t want to lose another family member, okay? We babies have to stick together.” With that, he paid no mind to the situation, making a small mental note to tell Draken that one of the members there probably just thought yn was pretty. “Oh,” Souta looked back at yn, “one more thing.”

“Y-yeah, of course,” yn snapped her eyes to meet his gaze, nervous that he might have picked up on the fact that she lied about not coming into contact with any members when she first arrived, “what’s up stinky?”

“Just be careful,” Angry passed her a water bottle, “don’t trust anyone who isn’t in our toman family; especially not a Bonten member. He’ll take you in, manipulate you into believing you can’t live without him, and sell you off with no cares in the world. That is, if you’re lucky enough not to be killed in the middle of the street for entertainment.” Souta turned back around to finish up the ramen.

“Yeah,” yn felt a chill go down her back, “I’ll be careful… I promise.” She honestly didn’t know how to feel, after all, she just met with the man who presented her with an unrequited love, another man who made her heart yearn to lurk into the depths of the shadows, and someone whom she considered family just told her that one of those men would lead her onto a road of misfortune. Lost in her thoughts, she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled on it and felt her stomach drop as she was greeted with two notifications.

Draken bacon >:D : You okay kid? We’re heading to the restaurant right now, ‘m sure nothing was wrong – just wanted ya to be safe. me and inupi there in a bit, the other boys are getting stuff together for our dinner tonight. don’t annoy angry too much <3

Tani-senpai <3: why did you leave so soon pretty girl? Didn’t mean to alarm you, but I sent your picture to quite a few of my juniors and underlings, delinquents if you will – just wanted them to know not to touch what isn’t theirs. N e Wayz, I have time now, do you want to call now?

Were the gods telling her to remember her caring brother’s rules on men or to listen to faint voice of curiosity that lingered in her young and ignorant mind?

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Taglist: @richiyo @haitanigigi @chifuyusprincess

ryozoro©

[gimmezutara]

Drabble that came to me earlier when reading hc’s about the steam babies:

Kya whirled around the kitchen grabbing various tea leaves. She expertly arranged the tray and swept past the counter to serve another customer.

She loved working at her Grandpa’s tea shop. It was refreshing and so different from the palace she was used to spending her days in. This place was absolutely bustling with activity and here she had more freedom than she ever did back in the Fire Nation. Here, she wasn’t Kya, Crown Princess of the Fire Nation, she could just be… Kya.

Iroh smiled as he watched her work. He loved the summers he got to spend with his granddaughter. She was always so keen to help out and was a ray of sunshine to his days.

She rushed past him again pulling a funny face and Iroh laughed.

She put her dirty tray down and bumped into Ran at the sink. “Hey, watch it Ky!” he complained as the bump knocked his arm straight into the sink.

“Are you a waterbender or aren’t you?” she teased, reaching for her notepad and pen.

“Yeah, but doesn’t mean I like being soaked,” he replied sulkily. “How come you get to serve and I’m stuck doing the washing up?”

“Wanna swap? There’s plenty of people who’d love to chat with the Prince of the Fire Nation out there,” she said, offering the pen and notebook with a knowing smile.

Ran rolled his eyes and tipped his head back with a weary sigh. “Why did Mum and Dad send us to work here again? You know I could’ve been at Ember Island with Shomo and Raoko right?”

“Doing really productive things I’m sure,” Kya said sarcastically.

Ran huffed, his fringe flying away from his face as he went back to his reluctant cleaning.

Kya bent under the counter to pick up a dish rag.

“Excuse me?” came a voice from above.

“Just a second,” she said, before she tossed the rag back in the sink behind her (feeling satisfied at the groan from her brother) and turned back to see the most gorgeous face she had ever seen in her life. She didn’t know eyes could be that green! He must be an earthbender, surely.

She suddenly realised she’d been gawping at him completely silent.

“Uh, what can I do for you?” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear and tugging the ends nervously, a habit she seemed to have picked up from her mother.

“Can I get a ginger tea please?” he asked.

“Oh yeah sure!” she said a tad too loudly. “You sit down and I’ll be right with you!”

She hastily made her way to the kitchen to make the tea, knocking the whole pot over in the process. “Shit…” she muttered to herself.

“Are you alright, Kya?”

She jumped at Iroh’s voice. “Yep, absolutely fine!” she said a little too quickly.

She prepped the tray, steeled herself and made her way out into the seated area. She caught his eyes and felt herself smile. Then she tripped over the green rug in the middle of the floor. With lightning reflexes she managed to right herself just as a tan hand appeared to steady the tray. “Are you ok?” the boy asked.

Kya’s eyes widened. She laughed awkwardly. “I’m fine, just fine,” she said, feeling the tips of her ears burn with a blush as she took the tray from his hands and placed it on the table. “Sorry, I spilled your tea a bit,” she said, “I can get you another-”

“No no, it’s alright,” the boy said with a kind smile.

“Ok, um, great,” Kya said. She nodded her head at him and made her way back to the kitchen as fast as possible.

***

The next few days the boy returned every day. One afternoon Kya was leaning on the countertop lost in her imagination.

Iroh watched from his usual seat. He followed her gaze to the handsome Earth Kingdom boy sitting by the window and chuckled to himself.

He rose from his seat and joined his granddaughter at the counter. “It appears we have a new regular!” he said.

Kya was startled from her daydreaming. “Oh, uh, yes. I mean… who?”

Iroh gestured. “He is a handsome boy is he not?”

Kya blushed. “I… wouldn’t know. I guess,” she said, winning the award for worst nonchalant answer in the world.

“Shame he always sits by himself,” Iroh said. “I would have thought he would have a girlfriend.”

“Do you think he does?” Kya asked a little too quickly.

Iroh laughed to himself but kept his features neutral. “I shouldn’t think so,” he said.

Kya’s face melted with relief. “Ok. That’s good. I mean… that’s fine. Why would I care?”

They stood in silence for a while. “I’ll take over for a while my dear, you could do with a rest,” Iroh said. “Why don’t you go and accompany our new patron?”

“What?” Kya said, instinctively clutching the notebook and pen to her. “No no no, I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Make polite conversation with our new, generous customer?”

Kya paused, stumped for a response. “Uh- no-”

“Great! You have a rest,” Iroh said, taking the notebook and pen from her gently but firmly and shooing her away from the counter.

Kya stood frozen, wrestling with herself for a bit.

She turned to face the table. She sighed and drew herself up straighter and made her way over.

“Uh, hi,” she said. The boy looked up at her and smiled.

“Hi,” he said.

“It’s- uh- nice to see you again. Here. You’re a- um- good customer,” she said. Her brain screamed at her.

The boys lips quirked up into an unfairly gorgeous smile. “Uh, thanks,” he said. “Are you… still working?”

“Me? Oh, um, my Gra….boss just said- it-it’s my break,” she managed.

The boys face lit up. “Oh well, please feel free to join me,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite.

“Ok, thanks,” she said, managing to get through at least one sentence without stumbling over her words. Short as it was, she’d count it as a victory.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” the boy said.

“Oh yeah, I’m just here for the summer,” she replied.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“The Fire Nation,” she said.

“Ah, I thought so. I mean, I didn’t want to assume, but-”

“Golden eyes gave it away huh?” she said. It was a pretty dead giveaway, even if her lightly tan skin and curly hair gave away her Water Tribe heritage.

The boy nodded, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Firebender?” he asked.

She nodded. “Earthbender?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded too.

***

Kya readied herself for her night out.

“You tell anyone I went out, you’re dead,” she threatened her brother.

“Sheesh, calm down, I’m not telling on anyone,” he said from his position lying on the couch. “Just… be careful Kya ok?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Oh and you better not bring him back here, ok? I’m not sharing an apartment with you and your new lover.”

She threw a pillow at him. “Same to you and your new fancy lady!” she retorted.

Ran’s face fell. “I- what?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking out last week!”

“I didn’t- she’s not-” Ran began before his face fell into a scowl and he growled in frustration. “Real nice, blackmail from the future Fire Lady, that’s comforting.”

“Shut up,” she retorted with a smile. She took one last glance in the mirror before she set off.

***

Later that night she crept back into the tea shop, a soft flame burning in her palm to light the way. She could hear her brother’s loud snores from outside the room. She carefully put her pack on the side and went to grab some water from the sink.

Suddenly a loud snore from the sofa made her jump and almost drop the cup. She quickly caught it and snapped her head round. She silently made her way to the sofa and peeked her head over it.

Iroh was fast asleep on the couch.

She breathed a sigh of relief and carefully crept back to the kitchen, putting the cup back in its place before quietly going back to her room.

The door closed with a soft click.

The snoring from the sofa ceased and Iroh carefully lifted his head to glance around the room. Then he chuckled to himself.

***

“Ah, you are both here!” Iroh said, greeting the Fire Lord and Lady enthusiastically. “We have had the most wonderful time! Ran’s been working hard in my shop and Kya has been wonderful as always. She’s even made some new friends,” he said. He glanced over at Katara with a twinkle in his eye.

Katara caught his look. She knew that look. Her gaze flicked over to her husband who, as usual, hadn’t noticed his Uncle’s tell tale signs of having some juicy gossip.

“Sit down, you must tell me all about your trip over,” Iroh said, shooing them into seats around the table.

Just then the door opened and Kya walked through, lost in a world of her own.

“Kya!” Zuko said excitedly. Kya jumped, startled at the sudden presence of her parents.

“Dad! Hi!” she said, her startled face melting into a smile.

“How’s my little sunbeam?” Zuko asked, coming over to give her a hug.

“Great, Dad,” Kya said as he squeezed her tight. She made her way over to Katara giving her a hug too.

“Had fun with Grandpa?” Zuko asked.

Kya beamed. “Of course! I actually said I’d look after the kitchen this morning though so…” she said, backing towards the door.

Zuko smiled. “Of course, I’ll come and help get heaters going.”

“Dad, I’m a firebender, you haven’t had to help me with that since I was like three,” she complained.

“Let your Dad be of assistance if he wants,” Katara said, with a patronising pat on Zuko’s shoulder. He arched an eyebrow at her and she nudged him playfully before turning back to his daughter.

Katara eyed Iroh suspiciously over the rim of her cup as Zuko and Kya left the room. Iroh’s face was impassive, as always, but Katara knew he was dying to tell her something.

“Iroh…” she said.

“Yes?” he asked.

“What do you know?”

Iroh looked around conspiratorially and leaned in. “Kya’s got a boyfriend,” he said excitedly.

Katara laughed. “Who?” she asked.

“There’s a handsome boy who comes to the tea shop, you should see her, she’s been daydreaming about him all day every day since she first laid eyes on him!”

“Oh spirits,” Katara said in mock despair.

“Reminds me of a Water Tribe girl I once had working here who could barely make the right orders because she was too distracted by the other server.”

Katara’s face suddenly became amusingly affronted. “I did not make the wrong orders! And I was not ogling Zuko!” she said.

Iroh laughed. “I believe I said ‘distracted’, my dear,” he said.

Katara blushed, as if the idea of being attracted to her husband of twenty years was still embarrassing, making Iroh laugh even more.

“What’s this boy like?” Katara said, a hint of concern in her voice. She knew her daughter could handle herself but she was all too familiar with how vulnerable feelings for someone could make you, and how much it could hurt when it didn’t go well.

“He’s very kind,” Iroh said reassuringly. “You know the day she met him she tripped over, spilled his tea everywhere!”

Katara laughed. “Oh spirits, I’d hoped she wouldn’t take after her father in this respect…”

Iroh laughed too.

Zuko walked back in and the two quickly fell quiet and went back to sipping their tea.

Zuko paused by the table. He regarded them both suspiciously.

“What did I miss?” he said, his tone heavy with suspicion.

“Nothing, my son,” Iroh said dismissively. “I was just telling Lady Katara here that it is important to spice up a marriage after such a long time together.”

Katara choked on her tea.

[leo-gold-hotchner]

Before Puppy

Long time no writing! I hope everyone’s well and stay healthy. Although I have a surgery planned next week so I’m not sure when I’ll upload another. Besides, I’ve been watching reading Harry Potter all again XD 

It’s a short piece but I hope you all enjoy.

Natural-gen Reader X Aaron Hotchner with Jack

Words: 1000-ish

“No.” 

A short grunt and a sip of coffee. He swore inwardly, slightly blaming you for showing ‘101 Dalmatians’ to Jack who had been wanting a dog. And Jack’s been begging him for a puppy more than ever. You probably showed the movie deliberately, not that he would ask you about it. 

You watched a sullen faced son and an adamant faced father. The looks on their faces were different, but at the same it was much alike. With that sullen face, Jack looked very much like Aaron. 

“Why?” Even though sulking, Jack wanted to know why Aaron wasn’t convinced about having a puppy of their own. 

“A puppy is not a toy. It’s a responsibility. It means you must take care of life. I’m not going to ask your Aunt to look after a puppy too!” Aaron exhaled deeply as he watched his son pouting over breakfast. “Think about what a puppy needs and what you have to do for them. A puppy needs constant care like a baby. F/N and I go to work, you go to school, and a puppy can’t be at home alone. They need to be fed, exercised and cleaned, as well as vaccinated.” Which is very expensive, Aaron swallowed. 

As Aaron started to explain shortly about having a dog in a household, you wondered how your husband knew so much about having a dog. You knew Jack understood why his father kept saying ‘no’, but being a child Jack still wanted to raise a puppy just like any other child. 

“Besides, you can always visit grandparents’ to play with dogs.” 

You raised your brows as Aaron mentioned your parents and their dogs. It was still strange to hear Jack calling your parents ‘grandpa’ and ‘grandma’ despite you were all now family. 

“But having a dog and visiting grandpa and grandma is different!” Jack tried to argue even though he knew his father wouldn’t budge a bit. 

“No. No means no, Jack.” Aaron narrowed his eyes and checked his watch. “Go brush your teeth, we’ll be leaving soon.” 

You silently watched Jack dragging his feet to his room to prepare for his school. You let out a little chuckle which drew a frown from Aaron. 

“I just remembered how my Dad hated the idea of having a dog.” 

“Did he?” Aaron gave you a surprised look, thinking of dog lover father-in-law. Never once Aaron saw his father-in-law without a dog next him. “I thought he loved dogs?” 

“Oh yeah, he hated dogs before,” you replied drily. “But alas, Mum and I brought a pup without discussing him. And next we knew was that the pup had Dad wrapped around its paw.” You snorted as you remembered the time, especially when your Dad started to take a nap with the puppy. “Anyway, since then, you know,” you gestured with your hand, “it became a dog farm.” 

Aaron let out an amusement laughter remembering so many lively dogs at your parents’. 

“So, despite how you said about ‘no means no’,” you tried to imitate your husband’s deep voice, which failed terribly which caused your husband laughing, “having a second thought about getting Jack a pup?” Aaron just shrugged, hiding his face behind his coffee mug. “I know it’s hard to resist Jack’s puppy dog eyes.” You looked at Aaron as you heard some grumble from him. “Hmm?” 

“I’m actually scared.” 

“Wait, you’re scared of puppies?” You asked incredulously. You vaguely remembered Aaron chasing a dog a few times from his work, and muttering about dogs that traumatised JJ a few years ago. 

“No, I’m not scared of dogs,” he rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “I had a dog once. It’s just, sad, you know,” he whispered in the last part. 

You knew what he was talking about. Having a dog means adding another family member, and it creates a massive unfillable hole in your heart when they leave. It was understandable. Perfectly. But you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You’re scared of getting attached.” You stated simply. “But you have already overcome that fear, haven’t you?” You frowned and he raised his brows at you. You silently pointed to yourself as you raised an inquisitive brow. 

“I don’t want Jack to hurt again.” Knowing what you meant he said seriously. 

You sighed. You knew it took a long time to overcome the sorrow of losing Haley for both Aaron and Jack. Even after going through hell, they still had enough room to love you and accept you as family. You knew the hole in their heart will never be healed but it still saddened you to see them being haunted by what that sadistic man did to this fantastic man and boy. You pulled your husband’s head gently and put his forehead on yours. 

“You’re strong enough to love me. Jack is the strongest boy I’ve seen. Besides, if we care well, puppy’s can live longer than 20 years.” 

At the mention of ’20 years’, Aaron pulled a face. “20 years after means Jack will be in his 30’s.” The father groaned as he imagined little Jack becoming an independent man with his own life. 

“Yeah, and we’ll be old,” you chuckled. You grabbed his hands with yours. “Old and still together.” You’d do anything for Aaron and won’t ever leave Aaron alone. 

You pulled away and softly pecked on his lips as you heard Jack’s loud footsteps coming down the stairs. 

 Aaron smiled at you gently, his eyes caressing your features. “I’m gonna miss you today.” 

“Let’s hope you don’t have a serial killer today. You and the community need a break from those bastards.” You huffed and you gently pushed your husband. “I do hope I see you tonight.” 

It wasn’t until you returned from your work when you realised that Aaron agreed to get a puppy for Jack. Jack jumped and hugged you tightly, babbling happily about you convinced his dad. You weren’t sure if you convinced your husband however, after all Aaron seemed to have a second thought about a puppy for Jack. You grinned to yourself. When you see Aaron you should give him a big happy surprise.

[kthstrawberryshortcake]

BTS Reactions: Their S/O is an Actual Witch

a/n: I pulled from a bunch of different witchcraft traditions for this one, just to give it a little variety. Once again my own life inspired a reaction post concept :')

REQUESTS ARE OPEN, send some in please! I'd love to hear your ideas!

Please note that the spelling of magic with an added k at the end is intentional.

You already know this was minimally edited. Proceed with caution. <3

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Jin | tarot:

The first few times Jin noticed a deck of cards laying around your apartment, shortly after your relationship had begun, he didn’t think much about it. He really had no reason to, honestly. It wasn’t until he overheard you quietly talking to yourself while setting out cards on the table in front of you one evening that he even paid much attention. “Spirit, is there any more information you can give me about this topic?” you muttered to yourself before shuffling your deck, taking the cards that flew out and laying them face up in front of you.

Considering this odd behavior, Jin observed as you peered intently at the cards, the wheels turning in your head practically visible. After a minute you felt his eyes on you, instinctively turning to look at him, taking note of his bewildered and vaguely concerned expression. That was when he finally got brave enough to ask what on earth you were doing. You smiled at him, patiently explaining that you read the cards in order to get guidance or insight on basically anything in life, and that they often answered questions that would otherwise go unexplained or without clarification.

He nodded slowly, sort of understanding what you were saying to him, though still kind of giving you a weird look. You could tell that just then, Jin thought the whole concept was weird, but at least he wasn’t opposed to it as far as you could tell. Not everyone was even willing to entertain such ideas.

After a few months, however, he regarded it very differently, having observed your use of tarot over that period of time. You felt a surge of warmth and satisfaction the first time Jin entered your apartment, immediately stating “Get your cards, I need advice.” Thus he grew to appreciate your craft.

Yoongi | wicca / paganism / related holidays:

You never actually had a moment where you told Yoongi about your practice of witchcraft, and you definitely didn't get into the religious aspects. During the early stages of your relationship, you just kind of did what you needed to do without regard for explaining your actions. He definitely noticed the small things you did, simple things like burning sage. He didn’t act in response to this little action, just became more observant and curious about your practices and beliefs. Over time he just absorbed the things you did, then did his own research to learn the purposes of your actions. Unbeknownst to you, he had learned, entirely on his own, a great deal about your witchcraft. You had no idea.

One day Yoongi noticed that you had marked Samhain on your calendar in big red letters, and he decided to ask you about it. You were shocked when he inquired about your plans for the holiday, having been fully unaware of his knowledge of its existence. You explained to him what you were planning to do, and he surprised you again by understanding what you meant without further explanation.

A month passed and October 31 was only a week away. You were having dinner with Yoongi and the rest of the members, who were also your close friends. Conversation shifted to Halloween parties and who was doing what. Several of the boys had decided to attend a particular party, buzzing with excitement as they discussed costume ideas. They then proceeded to invite you and Yoongi to join them.

“Sorry, we can’t go. We have plans.” Yoongi replied, earning a scoff from Jimin. “Plans for a nap, hyung? Come on, for just one night quit being such a grandpa.” He complained. You didn’t know how to explain that you weren’t just being antisocial this time. Thankfully Yoongi beat you to replying, “Y/N and I will be observing Samhain. We can’t join you.” He stated matter-of-factly, warming your heart with his support of your beliefs, but thoroughly confusing the other members.

“You’re doing what…?” Hobi inquired, baffled. Yoongi patiently explained. “Samhain, it’s the same day as Halloween. It’s a pagan holiday marking the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the cold part of the year. There are various rituals and activities to be done to observe the day. Y/N and I will not be able to come to the party because we will be busy with Samhain tasks. As a witch it is a very important occasion, the witch’s new year.” You were impressed at how well he was able to explain the situation to the others.

With that, the other members backed off about the party, but they were suddenly filled with curiosity about you being a witch and all the things that entailed. The bad news was that you were bombarded with questions. The good news was not only were your friends curious and supportive, but Yoongi was supporting you wholeheartedly without you even realizing. You felt very lucky to have him.

Hoseok | astrology:

Not long after meeting him initially, you began to get the feeling that Hoseok was a skeptic when it came to more esoteric subjects. As such, you didn’t even mention astrology to him until you’d been together for a couple of months already. You were sitting at a cafe, sipping your warm drinks and casually catching up after a busy few days at work.

You thought it best to use something he was familiar with as a segue into the topic, so you brought up the concept of the Chinese zodiac and the meaning of each animal’s years, as well as how that is often seen as an indicator of compatibility for relationships or even just friendships. Hobi fully understood your point, though he wasn’t sure where you were going with the conversation overall.

You then spoke about Western Astrology and a general overview of how it is used to determine compatibility as well. You thought it best to keep it simple so he didn’t get confused. You explained that to be able to get the information you were wondering about, you needed the time he was born. Hoseok shrugged, because like most people, he didn’t know his birth time off the top of his head. You suggested lightly that perhaps he could ask his mom, remaining nonchalant in your tone, but employing the puppy dog eyes you knew he could never resist.

Only minutes later, he was calling his mother to ask for the information. You were pleased that you’d managed to get a hold of his birth chart, as that was the basis of everything you wanted to know, and you made a mental note to do some deeper analysis when you got home. Your greatest curiosity was the synastry chart for your relationship, a type of compatibility chart that overlays one person’s chart on top of the other. You didn’t expect to actually get Hobi interested in astrology. His indifferent tolerance of the subject combined with his willingness to seek information you requested were more than enough for you.

Namjoon | kitchen magick:

Namjoon, your beloved genius sweetheart of a boyfriend, was also a walking accident waiting to happen. His clumsiness was quite honestly an issue. You worried about how hard he was on himself, too, though. He was a dedicated leader and ridiculously busy at all times  thanks to his love for his work. As a kitchen witch, you did what you could to use your talents to help him.

On a day when he seemed particularly scatterbrained, you made him peanut butter banana toast for breakfast, with peanut butter AND bananas for luck and bread for protection and prosperity. When Namjoon was stressed about writer’s block, you made him your special hot chocolate recipe, with vanilla extract to promote calm thoughts and a sprinkle of gingerbread crumbs for creativity. When he was burnt out from hectic schedules, you made him lemon tea with sugar, lemons being for rejuvenation and healing, while sugar was for happiness and sweetness in life.

One evening Joon remarked how your cooking always made him feel better, and you explained that it was because you used kitchen magick. He’d had no idea until that point, and while he was shocked he was also extremely intrigued, wanting to learn more about your craft. From then on, Namjoon was always sure to ask what the food was for before happily consuming it, in awe of its efficacy as well as your thoughtfulness in making it for him.

Jimin | candle magick:

You really didn’t know how or when you should explain to Jimin about your inclination toward candle magick, or that you were a witch in general. You didn’t just stick to your own personal practice, either. You had a little business selling spell and intention candles online as well. You decided, however, that until you could figure out how to explain it all, you’d just go about your regular routine and activities without saying anything about them to Jimin.

What you hadn’t counted on was Jimin’s inherently sweet, helpful, and supportive nature. The first time he’d appeared when you were working on your candles, you really had no idea what to say to him, so you just sort of smiled and kept doing your thing. Your heart warmed when, after a few minutes of observing you, Jimin jumped in and started helping with your task.

The two of you were sorting components to put into the batch of protection candles. Most of the ingredients went directly into the wax, but there were a few you liked to put on top, which was what you and Jimin were organizing. Each candle was topped with black salt and sea salt, plus a piece of Snowflake Obsidian and a tiny pentacle charm, finished off with a cinnamon stick and a bayleaf half submerged in wax, half sticking out.

Jimin was helpfully making a pile of the topping components for each candle so that they would be ready when you got to the stage of assembling the candles. It wasn’t until the little piles were finished, the tins for the candles to be poured in were neatly arranged in front of you, and you had begun putting the actual ingredients into the candle wax that Jimin even questioned why you were doing this. Promising to explain once finished, you poured each of the candles into the tins and added the topping items.

Leaving the candles to cool and harden, you explained it all to Jimin - about your being a witch, about your candle shop, and about the purpose of the batch he’d just helped you create. You braced yourself for a bad reaction, conditioned to expect that after years of being bombarded with others’ distaste for your craft. Shockingly, though, Jimin just smiled and asked if he could help you make your candles more often, admitting that he’d had a lot of fun today, and that he thought it would be a great way to spend more time with you.

Taehyung | crystals:

At first it was nothing but noticing all the crystal jewelry you often wore. When you and Tae were just getting to know each other, he’d always compliment you on your style or on specific pieces, like a quartz point necklace or obsidian beaded bracelet. You knew your choice in accessories could be seen as a tad unusual, so you were happy that he seemed to appreciate it.

But his casual interest in your jewelry was nothing compared to the first time he came to your apartment. He was in awe of the numerous crystals of every shape and size that were scattered around your space, the epitome of an “ooh shiny!” reaction. It amused you greatly, especially when he asked you about your “rock collection” and where they all came from. They truly were impossible to miss, with many of them in every room of your place.

You half expected him to shy away when you started explaining the reason for your crystal collection and the purposes of each piece, but surprisingly he remained just as interested, listening closely in fascination. He asked specifically about the big pieces first, which made sense considering they were the most noticeable. You had quite a few amethyst pieces, as well as some large clear quartz and an abundance of huge chunks of rose quartz (your favorite, so you kept a lot of it around).

Taehyung was so intrigued that you spent over an hour answering his many questions, explaining the origins and properties of your various stones. He was especially interested when you explained that this was why you wore the jewelry that you did. By the time the conversation ended for the night (you were touched but a little exhausted by his enthusiasm after a while) Tae expressed wanting to get some small crystal bracelets to go with the bracelets ones he wore regularly, especially obsidian or black tourmaline because they were both for protection AND matched the aesthetic of his usual stash. You filed that information away, making a note to surprise him with a few later. By the time you’d been together almost a year, he was deeply into the crystal interest just like you were, having learned all their properties and even begun gifting some to friends for various occasions.

Jungkook | general witchy activities:

It took weeks and weeks of noticing unusual details about your life for Jungkook to even question why you did what you did. At first it was small things, like picking up on smells of incense and sage on you and in your apartment (after all, Jungkook has a very sensitive nose). Then he picked up on of how you would occasionally mutter things to yourself under your breath with intense focus. These things alone were perhaps a tiny bit odd, but all in all not terribly strange.

It was when you started spending a lot more time together that your behaviors began to seem weird to him. Like the little table in the corner of your living room that was covered with a bunch of random objects . On one occasion he picked up a cookie from it and started to take a bite, only for you to snatch it out of his hand frantically, scolding him for taking it.

Another day, he took a drink of water from a glass mason jar that was sitting out, Once again, you took it from him as quickly as possible, saying “you can’t just drink that without knowing what you’re doing!” Other than being a waste of moon water, thankfully this incident was harmless, but it might not always be if care were not taken.

Jungkook was thoroughly confused, and honestly, a little bit freaked out. He actually went to Namjoon looking for advice, literally asking him “why is my girlfriend so weird?”, leaving Namjoon doing his best to hold back laughter. “Jungkookie, she’s a witch. The cookie you took was an offering on her altar, and you were drinking moon water from that jar. I suggest you ask more questions and be more aware, then everything won’t seem so strange.” Thankfully, Jungkook followed his hyung’s advice, and there were far fewer magical mishaps after that.

a/n: I adore feedback AND requests! Please feel free to send some my way. <3

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Three

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Morgan, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos and implications

Chapter Summary: Reader has dinner with her family and gets grilled even harder than her food. But she’s turned to a light simmer when Bucky takes her out for their first date.

Author’s Note: This chapter is fucking monstrous lol. I did not expect it to be this long so it might be a couple extra days before the next chapter so I can catch up! I’m also not sure if my Italian is accurate so I apologize in advance. I used to work for a man named Gennaro from Naples and he called me “bella” so hopefully I’m sort of right? If you like the story so far, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Part One • Part Two

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

Dinner that night was tense, to say the least. It was nice to have your dad, step-mom, sister, and uncles Happy and Rhodey over again, but your dad wasn’t quick to forget what he saw earlier.

“What was that with Barnes today?” Tony asked as you all sat around the dining room table in your midtown flat, poking away at the remnants of your meals.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

Your dad just gave you an incredulous look. “You know what I mean.”

You sighed and avoided meeting his eyes. “I was just working on his arm, dad. I didn’t wanna make him lie down on a hard lab table while I poked around to do what you wanted and quiet his arm,” you explained.

“Wait, Barnes as in Bucky Barnes?” Uncle Rhodey clarified.

“Yeah,” your dad confirmed, not taking his eyes off of you. “I found her kneeling between his legs while he sat shirtless on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping with Bucky?!” Rhodey asked.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone!” you defended, dropping your fork onto your plate. “I’ve known him for a month.”

“That’s never stopped your father,” Pepper mumbled under her breath, making you huff out a laugh despite your current grilling.

“Listen, when I said ‘no fraternizing with coworkers,’ I meant it,” your dad said.

“Please stop saying ‘fraternizing.’ It’s weird.”

Tony sighed and crossed his arms. “No ‘slumber parties’ with coworkers,” he rephrased.

This made Morgan perk up in her seat, having spent the past couple minutes confusedly watching you and your dad bicker.

“Can we have a slumber party, [Y/N]?” she asked.

“Yes, honey, we can have a slumber party,” you responded.

“Tonight?” she continued.

At this, you pointedly looked at your dad and raised your eyebrows as a way of saying ‘are we done now?’ You could tell he didn’t want to end the conversation, but you were grateful for the sudden change of topic. Tony uncrossed his arms and leaned against the table as he replied to your sister.

“If your big sister says it’s okay, you can have a slumber party tonight.”

Morgan lit up like the Fourth of July, quickly listing off all the movies she wanted to watch even though you knew she’d fall asleep halfway through the first movie.

As your family packed up to leave, leaving Morgan since she had a drawer of clothes for the impromptu sleepovers you’ve had before, you calmed your racing heart before saying the words that would either make your father more suspicious or completely quash his suspicions.

“You’ll have to pick her up by four tomorrow. I have a date.”

All of the adults turned to face you. Pepper had a huge smile on her face, clearly excited for you, but your dad and Rhodey looked ready to fight. Happy looked curious, maybe even worried, but he played a big role in raising you so while Tony was the overprotective parent, Happy was the comforting parent (not that he’d ever let anyone know that).

“A date?” The tone of your dad’s voice made you roll your eyes at him.

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to go on dates.”

Your dad let out a quiet harumph at that, but understood where you were coming from. “I know, sweetheart. Forgive me for being a bit overprotective of my little girl.”

“I get it. I appreciate your concern,” you said with a smile, “but this is good for me. You want grandkids eventually, right?”

“Oh god,” your dad groaned, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not old enough to be a grandpa but I’m old enough to have a heart attack at the mention of it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“So what’s this person’s name?” Pepper piped up. You visibly tensed and internally panicked. You couldn’t just admit it was Bucky after denying anything there. But his name was technically pretty common...

“His name is James.”

Rhodey snapped his fingers and pointed at you as he said, “I like him already.”

‘Yeah, sure you do,’ you thought. The sight of your dad narrowing his eyes at you and crossing his arms as he stood in the entryway of your apartment made you nervous. Maybe James wasn’t good enough to get him off your trail (probably because he was right).

“How did you meet this guy?” Tony asked.

If anyone else had asked, you would’ve said ‘work,’ but that’s the last place you could say to your dad — with whom you worked.

“Uhh, at the grocery store. We accidentally followed each other and got a lot of the same food so he jokingly accused me of stalking him and we just hit it off,” you rattled off. It’s a good thing he didn’t know how your friend Monique met her girlfriend or he’d know you were lying.

“That’s so cute,” Pepper cooed. She was definitely the more relaxed of your parents, possibly because she wasn’t your biological mom. She had been raising you since you were ten though, so she played a big part in your upbringing.

“Text me his last name so I can run a background check,” your dad said. You’d love to think he was joking, but you knew he was serious.

And as much as you knew you’d regret it, you had to make a joke…

“His last name is Barnes,” you said, keeping your face as serious as possible. “James Barnes. I actually know his middle name too: Buchanan.”

“[Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N], you better be joking right now,” Tony said. He was already getting red in the face, clearly unenthused at the prospect of you dating the man who, admittedly, killed his parents — your grandparents. Yeah, understandable.

“I’m obviously kidding,” you said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just funny that they have the same first name and you’re so anti-Bucky.”

“You’re gonna send me to an early grave,” he muttered. “I’m going home before I actually have a heart attack.”

You said your goodbyes and ‘I love you’s before you and Morgan put on your pajamas and set up a pillow fort in the middle of your living room to watch her favorite sleepover movie: “Shrek.”

As the movie went on, you leaned back in the fort to take a photo of Morgan with the movie in the background. Well, the back of Morgan’s head as she was engrossed in the movie she’d seen a million times.

[Image attached] She’s got her teddy bear but where’s my Bucky Bear? 🥺

Across the city, Bucky’s phone buzzed from its spot on the kitchen counter as he made himself a late dinner. He didn’t recognize the number, but smiled when he saw the picture of who he assumed was your sister or niece.

I never got an invite. Looks like more fun than my night.

You smiled to yourself when you saw his reply, rolling your eyes at the lack of exclamation points and emojis. Typical man.

What does your night look like?

Eating a late dinner and talking to you.

Talking to me isn’t fun?! I’m hurt 😢

Not as fun as actually being with you.

Even though he wasn’t there and didn’t say it verbally, you could feel your cheeks get hot at his words.

There’s no way sweet talk like that didn’t get you in more than four beds.

You’re still on that? I swear doll, I have the same number as you.

Whatever you say! 🙄

There was a lull in conversation after that, giving you time to move your sister to lie on her back with pillows and blankets in the fort so she could sleep more comfortably.

Are we still going out tomorrow?

You let the next Shrek movie start automatically, but you didn’t pay any attention as you texted Bucky.

I’m still down if you are 👀

You sent him your address and let him know you’d wait on the front steps for him so he didn’t have to come all the way up. With the exchange of ‘good night’ messages, you drifted asleep to the sounds of Shrek 2.

•

The next morning, you somehow managed to wake up before your sister, then brought her back to the land of the living with the smell of French toast.

You spent your day watching another movie with Morgan before fixing lunch and taking her to a park down the road. Morgan’s childhood was definitely different from yours. Happy was the one who took you to parks and shopping, but Tony parented at home. Morgan would have the same early experiences, but the world knew Tony and Pepper had a daughter. They kept her identity hidden for now, waiting until she could decide if she wanted to reveal herself later in life. The world never knew about you.

And you had to be somewhat grateful for that. You still got all the perks of being a Stark — the money, the Tower, meeting the Avengers (and having James Rhodes as your godfather) — without the stress of fame. But part of you still wished you could talk about your father without keeping his occupation vague and referring to him as “Anthony” when telling stories instead of Tony.

Morgan also got to know her mom. You only spent the first seven years of your life with your mom before she was killed in a drive-by shooting. The police investigated it like crazy because everyone thought since it was Tony Stark’s wife, it had to be a targeted hit. But since she never took the same jogging route twice, all they came up with was an unplanned drive-by. You cherished the memories you had with her, but still openly welcomed Pepper when she came into the picture. She may not have played the same type of role in your life, but she helped shape your middle and high school years.

By the time you and Morgan got back to your place, she was exhausted, climbing back into the still-intact blanket fort to take a nap. When your dad and Pepper stopped by to pick her up, she was still knocked out.

“We’ll get out of your hair so you can get ready for your date,” your dad said with Morgan in his arms. “Send me this James guy’s last name. I still want to run a background check.”

“Dad,” you grumbled. “I already did my research. He’s clear.” Kind of. He technically has murdered hundreds of people, including your grandparents, but he’s reformed and fighting for the good guys now. Not that your dad would let it slide if you told him that.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned. “Let me know if you need to hide any bodies, okay?”

“You got it,” you said with a laugh as they headed out. You had two hours to get ready for Bucky, giving you plenty of time to look extra cute.

By the time six rolled around, you were all dolled up and ready to go. The autumn weather had you in a jacket and boots, but that just pulled your outfit together.

Your doorman Matt was standing inside the lobby when you ran downstairs, tossing him a small wave as you left.

“Have a good night, Miss [Y/L/N],” he said with a nod.

“See you later, Matt!”

You stood at the bottom of your building’s front steps, checking your phone and looking up and down the block for Bucky. It was six on the dot, so you figured he’d be there soon.

“Hey!” You looked up from your phone to see Bucky jogging toward you, a black leather jacket covering his arms and a black glove hiding his left hand. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get away from Sam. Had to tell him I was gonna check out my old stomping grounds in Brooklyn.”

“You’re, like, 30 seconds late. I’m just glad you’re here,” you said with a smile. “So what are we doing tonight?”

Bucky’s smile faltered as he looked down at you. Your boots gave you a bit of a height bump, but Bucky still stood taller than you.

“I, uh, I kinda thought you had something planned,” he said softly.

“Oh, oops,” you laughed. “Well… what about those Brooklyn stomping grounds of yours? Care to show me around?”

Bucky lit up at the recommendation and started leading the way to the nearest subway stop. Before you started down the stairs, he paused and turned to you with a sour expression.

“I probably should’ve asked if you’d rather get a cab,” he said.

“Bucky, I take the subway to work every day. It’s fine.”

“Why do you take the train? You don’t live too far away.” You two made your way down the steps to the bustling station.

“It’s just easier. Less work for me,” you explained. “I didn’t take the train much as a kid so I like taking the opportunity now that I can.”

“Most people don’t willingly take the subway,” he laughed. “Steve and I always used to talk about how we’d be rich enough to have a car someday. But now that I could get any car I wanted, I don’t think I want one. I like the subway.”

“Even though it’s smelly and dirty?” you joked.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “It’s one of the things that still reminds me of home.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly brought you to tears. This man had been through so much and was still the sweetest soul you’d ever met. Forced into a war he didn’t want to join, experimented on, tortured and brainwashed, hunted by every government in the world, captured, frozen, and forced into another war and more battles he shouldn’t have to join. He just couldn’t catch a break.

“Well I’m excited to see what else reminds you of home,” you replied.

The trains to and through Brooklyn were relatively busy so you and Bucky couldn’t really talk much, but it was a Saturday night so you couldn’t blame people for getting out. It was tough to find seats, but Bucky was willing to stand to make sure you could have a seat. Ever the gentleman.

When you made it to Bucky’s Brooklyn stop of choice, he started telling you more stories from the ‘40s, like when Steve couldn’t get off the train in time and accidentally went down another stop so Bucky ran to the next stop and found Steve heading his way anyway. And how he and Steve followed his sister Rebecca on a date “to watch out for her,” he said, and her date thought they were stalking her and tried to beat them up. And all the fights he pulled Steve out of.

“Punk was a chihuahua who thought he was a Rottweiler.”

For a while, you two walked around the streets of Brooklyn just telling each other stories. You were careful about names you used, often just calling Happy “Uncle Harry” and Rhodey “Uncle James.”

Bucky showed you the movie theater he and Steve used to go to, which was surprisingly still in business. You walked past what used to be a diner Bucky frequented but was converted into a bridal shop.

“This used to be a magic store Steve loved,” he said, looking up at the bank on the corner of the street. “Things have changed a lot.”

You heard the nostalgia in his voice, clearly missing the New York he grew up to love. He had a soft smile on his lips as he reminisced, though.

“What about where you lived?” you asked. “Do you remember where that is?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “I could never forget that.”

Everything was within a fifteen minute walk of where you got off the subway so even though your feet were getting tired, you followed alongside Bucky as he led the way up and down the streets. Before too long, you strode up to a large brick building that had clearly been remodeled recently, if the fresh windows and front doors were any indication.

“It’s… a lot nicer than when I lived here,” Bucky said with a sigh. “But it’s been nearly 100 years so I can’t blame them for updating things.”

“Brooklyn is kind of booming now, too,” you added. “More people to appeal to, ya know?”

You stared up at him again, seeing that same lost look as before, like he wished to turn back time and show you the Brooklyn he knew. So you decided since he couldn’t do that, you’d show him the Brooklyn you knew.

“Come here. My turn to show you around,” you said, holding your hand out to him. He gave you a small smile before grabbing your hand in his and letting you pull him back to the subway.

Ten minutes later, you hopped off the train with Bucky in tow and headed to the little Italian restaurant you found while exploring the city a couple years before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; it was honestly more of a little hole-in-the-wall, but you liked the quiet atmosphere.

“Bella!” the owner shouted as you walked in.

“Hey Genny,” you smiled at him.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he approached you, raising his eyebrows when he saw Bucky.

“This is James,” you said. You opted against using his more common nickname to avoid any recognition.

“James, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gennaro, but you can call me Genny. Welcome to my restaurant.” The two men shook hands before Genny ushered you two to a table and handed you menus. “Would you like to start with focaccia?”

“Yes please!”

“Con formaggi?”

“Si! Grazie!”

Gennaro left you and Bucky while he started your appetizer.

“You speak Italian?” Bucky asked.

“Definitely not,” you laughed. “I’ve just been coming here for a while and have picked up on some things Genny says. Like ‘bella’ means ‘beautiful,’ this pizza,” you pointed to your favorite pizza on the menu, “‘cinque formaggi’ means ‘five cheese.’ But I could never hold a conversation.”

“Un peccato,” Bucky sighed before flashing a smile at you.

“You speak Italian?!” you nearly shrieked. “No way! Don’t talk shit with Gennaro behind my back.” You pouted at Bucky, but knew he wouldn’t say anything bad about you. Maybe an embarrassing moment or two — like your dad walking in on you between his knees — but nothing negative.

“I picked it up pretty quickly back in the day,” Bucky explained. “Before I was sent to Germany, I was stationed in a small town in Italy for a while. The locals didn’t mind having us there because we kept the Nazis out, so they taught us some Italian when we were in town.”

“Maybe I should take Gennaro up on his offer to learn Italian,” you mused.

“Or you could learn from me,” Bucky was quick to offer. “I’ll teach you some stuff when you’re working on my arm.”

Your server arrived with the focaccia and water for both of you, before giving you more time to actually look at the menus instead of talking. You decided to split a bottle of red wine and two pizzas, one of your choice and one of Bucky’s. As the night went on, you and Bucky both opened up to each other even more than before. You could easily blame the buzz from a couple glasses of wine, but Bucky’s super soldier serum made you confused. His cheeks were flushed and he had more than half the bottle, so you wondered if maybe...

“Can you still get drunk?”

“Unlike Steve, yes. It takes more than this,” he said, lifting the nearly empty bottle of wine, “but since Steve and I received different serums, they work a little differently. I can definitely get drunk. Marijuana admittedly hits harder.”

You paused as you stared back at him, his elbows perched on the table and his clasped hands propped under his chin.

“Are you drunk now?”

“No,” he laughed quietly. “A little tipsy, sure, but not drunk by a long shot.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, reluctantly accepting that he was just as buzzed as you but not quite drunk.

Before long, your server brought over your tab and you realized how empty the restaurant had gotten. Then you noticed the broom and mop the server had brought out to the floor, then the dark ‘open’ sign, and finally the clock on the wall.

“You closed 20 minutes ago and didn’t kick us out?” you shouted at Gennaro. “Genny, you can always kick me out! I feel bad!”

Gennaro walked over to your table as you scrambled for your wallet and handed the server your card to run.

“I can’t kick you out, bella. You and your moroso are welcome any time.”

“I think this poor girl would beg to differ,” you said as the server handed your card and signature slip back. She just laughed at your comment, agreeing without saying it outright.

You left a hefty tip and hugged Genny before you and Bucky, both still a bit tipsy, shuffled outside.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Bucky said. “This means I get to pay next time, though.”

He said it so casually and you already planned on another date, but it still kind of caught you off guard.

“Next time?” You smiled up at him and took a step closer until you were almost toe-to-toe. “There’s gonna be a ‘next time’?”

“I sure hope there is,” he said quietly, his smirk sending a rush up your spine.

“If you insist,” you sighed. He knew better than to believe you weren’t excited for your future plans. “I’m cold. Care to get an Uber with me?”

He gently grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, pulling the loose opening of his jacket over your arms and wrapping his arms around you to help keep you warm.

“Well, yeah. I need to make sure you get home safe so ‘next time’ can happen,” Bucky said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“You know, I don’t usually let men spoon me on the first date,” you joked as you tapped away to order an Uber.

“I can stop, if you want,” he teased.

You gripped his arm as he started to pull away. “I never said that.”

Bucky rode back to your place with you, keeping conversation casual as you both avoided the controversy you were about to face: to kiss on the first date or not. You never really had any issues with it before, but you already really liked Bucky. You didn’t want to risk messing it up by moving too fast. But what grown man would think a kiss on a first date was too fast? Well… maybe one born in the early 1900s…

Before your thoughts could throw you into a downward spiral, the driver pulled up outside your apartment complex. Bucky stepped out first and held the door open for you to scoot out after him. As you stood at the bottom of the stairs to your building, you felt those nerves creeping up on you again. God, you hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since high school.

“I had fun tonight,” Bucky said first, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Me too,” you smiled back. “I’m excited for what you plan for next time.”

Bucky laughed at this, the crinkle of his nose making your own smile grow. God, you wanted to invite him inside already. In your defense, you’ve known him for a full month and spent even longer getting heart-eyes over him in college.

But you reined in your hormones and just took a step closer to him to rest your hands on his chest. His right hand came up to rest on your waist, but he kept the metal hand in his pocket. With your hand placement, you could feel the thrum of his heartbeat and judging by the pace, you knew you were both on the same page. As you were trying to shove your nerves aside, Bucky asked the one question you were hoping for.

“Can I kiss you?”

Knowing he wanted this as much as you did relieved some of your nerves, but also made the moment that much more real. You smiled up at him and nodded your head.

“Yes, please do.”

You perched up on your toes to meet him halfway, letting his lips mold to yours. His hold on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer; you gripped the lapel of his jacket in your fists. Suddenly the cold of the night no longer existed. All you could feel was the warmth radiating off of him as he held you close. He pulled back for a second before diving right back in, this time nipping at your bottom lip. You giggled against him, but didn’t stop him from taking the innocent kiss a step further. Your hands slid from his chest to the nape of his neck before tangling into his long hair. The vibration from his moan as you tugged on his hair ran straight down your spine, making it even harder to leave the date alone.

Reluctantly, you both pulled apart just enough for your noses to brush against each other, the stubble of his beard still tickling your nose. You opened your eyes enough to see the smile on his lips as he pulled back a bit more to see your face.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you said quietly, as if speaking any louder would break you two out of your bubble.

“See you Monday, [Y/N],” Bucky replied just as quietly. His hand slipped from your waist as you backed away, biting your lip at him before you turned and scurried up the steps. Bucky stood on the sidewalk until he could see the light in your apartment flick on, just to make sure you were safe.

[lovehotelreservation]

(Re)spite

Summary: Hathe and Emet-Selch needed a break.

For Hathe, it was to preserve her energy and ease her nerves before ascending The Ladder for the daunting task of putting an end of Vauthry.

As for Emet-Selch?

He just needed for the glint of that painfully familiar shard to stop tormenting him so.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: WoL!OC/Emet-Selch

Continuation to “Mea Culpa”

BEEP BEEP SAD GRANDPA SEXINGZ ON THE WAY !!!

THANKS SO MUCH TO MY LOVELY COMMISSIONER FOR THIS BLESSEDLY ANGSTY OPPORTUNITY!!!

----------------

It just wasn’t the same.

There was a time when Emet-Selch set his eyes upon the Warrior of Light as something more than just a pawn in his plan, more than a fascinating subject in his observation of the mortals within the First.

An era long lost, but one he yearned so dearly to return to--it was during those blessed bygone days when he mockingly called out to the savior of the realm as not “hero”, but Azem.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he preferred truth over delusion.

The shard of his beloved Azem was here, lingering within the possession of the Warrior of Light.

Hathe.

But now, as he found himself lingering around the proximity of The Ladder in the mortals’ ongoing efforts to thwart Vauthry’s plans while the Kholusian sun mercilessly bore down upon him, his eyes were not softened with affection as he gazed towards her, but fixed in a scrutinizing stare.

It just wasn’t the same.

Hathe’s aether.

Corrupted cracks had since formed during her adventures in the First, all because of her misplaced faith in the Crystal Exarch.

Honestly, for all the glares and huffs that he received from her, it truly was baffling that she did not do the same to The Crystarium’s leader.

His lips were beginning to form a pout from this biased treatment.

“How are you not boiling in that thing?”

But then his lips curled into a grin as his gaze shifted to the eyes of the inquiring voice.

Lounging beneath the shade of one of the old workshops was Hathe, who retreated to this distant corner of The Ladder to preserve her energy before the ascent up to Mt. Gulg while the other Scions and the Eulmorans worked together to get the Talos running once again.

Clicking his tongue in a tsk, Emet-Selch threw his arms open wide in overexaggerated faux shock as he remarked, “My, my, hero--how brazen of you.” 

He approached where she sat in a saunter, crossing between the distinct line on the pavement to where the blazing sunlight treaded no further into the cool shade as he continued, his voice donning a playful innocence, “Did you wish for me to strip for you so badly?” Tilting his head, he pressed a thoughtful finger against his cheek with a smirk as he purred, “Have you missed my warmth in your bed that much?”

A roll of her eye and a sigh out of her painted lips.

“I should have just stayed quiet and enjoyed the peace.” Shaking her head, her arms folded over her chest as she reclined further back against the wall. Her eyes shut, hoping he would take this as cue to leave her alone.

But the sudden presence that appeared right by her side entailed otherwise.

As did him crouching down, a silent affirmation of his intentions to stay.

Not even the sensation of gloved fingertips cradling her chin had her look towards him, let alone fluttering her eyelid open to perceive his existence.

“Oh come now, you act like my presence hasn’t enriched your life for the better--”

He drew closer to her.

“--truly, wouldn’t you prefer I over the Exarch?”

The heat of his breath fanning over her ear never failed to make her shudder, a sensation that she was ever reluctant to enjoy.

She had a feeling as to where this was going. Though her better judgment would have her shoo him away before matters progressed further--especially given their relatively close proximity to the rest of the Scions and the others--it was either indulging in pleasure or quietly stew in thought over both the task of sending Vauthry crashing down while dealing with the Light that was poisoning her aether.

But that didn’t mean she was going to be that compliant with the man who was meant to be her nemesis.

And thus her eye opened, the sight of which made him wish she didn’t have to keep that eyepatch of hers on.

Azem’s eyes were among the features he cherished most about her after all.

But as ever the contrast between his lost love to the fragmented soul who stood before him, she huffed in defiance, “I’d prefer you let me relax before I pick up the pieces of your meddling.”

Her tone was soft, but the irritation laced around each word was as prickly as could be.

Emet-Selch only smirked in response.

“Meddling I object to, but letting you relax--” His thumb traced over her lips, caring little for the smudge of rouge that stained the whites of his glove--if anything, he relished it.

Continuing on, he kept her right in his sights as he tsked haughtily, “--honestly, by now you should know to be more direct with me on with your desires, hero.” 

The distance separating them closed further as he drew his thumb away, eliminating the space between his face and hers until their lips were barely an ilm apart as he mused, “Has anything else even come close to having that beautifully battleworn body of yours be at ease like my touch?”

She expected a kiss next.

But ever full of surprises, Emet-Selch only smirked as he teased, “Save for those ruffians who have felt the might of a keg of ale smashed upon their heads during those bratty youthful days of yours, of course.”

Hathe’s eye narrowed with sheer annoyance. “Gods, you really need to shut up.”

And it was with those huffed words that her hands cupped his face as she brought his lips to hers in a kiss.

A kiss for distraction.

Hathe and the tumultuous road that she was due to tread any moment now.

Emet-Selch and a yearning that he never could bring himself to ever relinquish in the days that have passed.

As delightful as it was to indulge in the gorgeously toned physique of the renowned hero during their many trysts in the nights since passed in her personal suite, it was still an utterly peculiar experience for his fingers to roam over physical familiarity with a soul that thought him to be a stranger, an enemy.

Ever more the thorns that had long formed around his heart embedded further and further.

In the end, she was just to be a vessel to enact his life’s work, his purpose to continue and carry on the will of his people.

And yet, he still found himself being so attentive, doting even, to Hathe’s pleasure as he shifted her clothes around--being mindful to not rip, else risk being punched back to The Source as she warned--, his lips kissing over her breasts, his tongue skillfully lapping over her nipples while his gloved fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, seeking to press and caress over her panties.

A warrior like her could handle some roughhousing, as he would often tease while fucking her into the mattress during his numerous late night visits to The Pendants.

But here, in this moment, hidden away in the shade, while she was more eager to peel off his robe, he was more in mind to take his time with her.

Bodies intertwined, an affair meant to exist only in the shadows.

She lied beneath him upon the ground while he eased his cock in and out of her core. Far from pounding but nowhere near delicate, he pumped himself at a lively pace. More kisses than bites were pressed onto her neck, one hand clasped around her waist while the fingers of the other slipped between their bodies to rub slow--and dare he say sweet?--circles against her clit.

It just wasn’t the same.

“What’s with the tenderness?” Hathe murmured breathlessly, her back arching as she continued to find her senses stimulated all the more. Though there was a teasing inflection to her voice, he could hear a layer of pure curiosity at its foundation.

The question genuinely caused Emet-Selch to halt in place.

Even if just for a few seconds.

Only before he snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. “You will never see Ascians as capable of love, do you, hero? Since you insist--”

His hands reinforced their grip on her waist, squeezing tight as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

She was right, however.

Tenderness, affection, love--those were reserved for Azem.

A shallow copy of the woman he loved most was in no need of such pure and precious joys, especially when she was fated to become a vessel for his plans.

The leading role of his grand theatrical production was to take her place in the showstopping climax of the show, and he was ever so delighted to have front row seats.

And yet, his mouth still sought out to kiss hers nonetheless.

A kiss longing for someone he couldn’t have anymore.

A kiss affectionate for someone he needed for greater purposes.

But as they rode out their orgasms, soon falling into one another in a pleasured heap, he still embraced her close to his chest with a grip that did not want to let go in the slightest, his face hiding into her neck.

So familiar and so far at the same time.

It just wasn’t the same and never would things return to how they would and should have been in a kinder life.