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#jus bc of her condition?
citrusitonit · 10 months
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Omg my favrite stories r the cask of amontillado n thag one story in english abt the boy whgo acdentlly kills his sister becaug he was tired of lettign her get away wit her cruelty
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year
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Can you pls write something like Miguel accidentally really hurts reader so she’s in Hospital or smth and Miguel goes to visit and apologise but Hobie’s really protective and doesn’t want him to see her?? and Miguel’s her dad bc I love angst thanknyouuu <3
Accidents
Angst, fluff, Miguel gets no happy ending atm
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He didn’t even realize he had done it.
“Miguel! Be more careful!” She said, looking at him and back to your unconscious body.
“I’m trying!” He said, holding the tentacle doc ock was throwing at him. He said, not looking back.
Jessica shook her head, and entered the portal quickly. She quickly ran to the infirmary, when Hobie spotted her. He looked in her arms and went over, confused on who it was at first.
It wasn’t until he stopped and realized it was you.
He looked at Jess, and he looked at you.
“What the fuck happened?” He said, alarmed.
“It doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that she’s bleeding out in my arms!” She said, and quickly put her on the stretcher, and they quickly rolled her away.
Jessica sighed as Hobie followed you in, the doctors didn’t care too much about him entering and focused on you.
They took off your clothes, and stopped the bleeding first. Then they put you in a hospital gown, and quickly pulled up some machines, checking what was wrong.
Hobie was at your side the whole time, holding your hand and looking at the doctors while doing so.
They did their thing with Hobie in there, and they said there was nothing much else they could do except wait. You were in stable condition luckily. The doctors left after a while.
“Fuck. Knew I shoulda been there, fuckin’..” he paced around the room. The door opened slowly, and Gwen had some flowers and a card in her hand. Pavitr had a sad look on his face.
“Hey… we heard what happened.. you alright in here? They wouldn’t let us in at first.” Gwen said.
Hobie snapped his head to Gwen and Pavitr.
“Where’s Miguel? He should be here-“
“You don’t know…?” Pavitr said.
“Know what..?” Hobie asked.
“He’s the one that did this, bro. We were shocked too. But we went to go get something from him and he was talking to Jessica and Peter B, and we overheard them. He was mad as hell.”
Hobies face dropped, and he was just mad at him now.
“What?” Hobie said angrily.
They both stayed silent and Hobie groaned in frustration. Your own dad did this, and you hadn’t even realized.
“Sorry, man.” Pavitr pat his shoulder and gave him a small hug.
“Swear to God, I’m gonna fucking kill Miguel-“ he was interrupted when someone entered the room.
Miguel.
“How’d this happen?” Hobie asked him immediately.
“It was an accident-“
“This ain’t no fuckin’ accident you can brush off, you coulda fuckin’-“
“But I didn’t. She’s alive. She’s my daughter, Hobie. Let me in-“ he tried pushing Hobie.
“Nah, man. Can’t let you do that.”
You started to wake up and Miguels eyes widened at that.
“Y/n… I didn’t mean to, Y/n!” He said and was being held back by his own doctors.
“Sir, you need to calm down, this is an infirmary-“
“I created this fucking place. I know that.” He spat at the doctor
“Just please… you can come in when your calm.”
“One person in here at a time please.” The doctor said when they entered the room, they all left Hobie and you.
He looked at you and you gave him a small smile.
“Hobie.”
“Yeah, It’s me. You alright?” He said, caressing your cheek.
“What happened?” You asked.
“Well.. you were on a mission, and you got hurt. Don’t know how but..” he lied. He shouldn’t say something that might mess up you and your dad’s relationship.
“Oh.”
“How are you feeling, Ms. O’Hara?” The doctor asked.
“I’m feeling… tired. Sore. It hurts.” You mumbled to her, looking at her.
“That’s expected. You took some heavy damage, we suggest that you don’t go on missions for a while. At least until you’re healed.”
You nodded and looked back at Hobie.
“Where’s my dad?”
“He’s outside.” The doctor said.
You sighed and looked at Hobie again.
“You okay?”
“I’m jus’ tired.. I missed you though.”
He laughed quietly “Well, don’t worry cause I’m not leaving your side anymore.”
————-
Tag list:
Hobie- @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorrxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn
@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l
@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn
@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub
@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman
@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2
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whore-era · 2 years
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little orange bottle
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☁︎ modern!ellie williams x fem!reader, fluff/comfort ☁︎ themes/TW: depression/depressive episode, prescription medication use, mental health, crying, appetite issues, etc, established relationship, girlfriend!ellie, use of fem nicknames ☁︎ summary: in which your girlfriend always reminds you to take your meds and supports you through your mental health journey. ☁︎ a/n: this is a little bit self insertion bc i may or may not have been late on taking meds (take your MEDS!!) n this is a comfort fic for us babies who do take meds for mental health purposes or whatever reason. experiences described in this fic is solely based on mine :) ☁︎ word count: 1,809 - not proofread
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"make sure you take them, as directed, and on time. sound good?"
you nod, biting your lip, rotating the small, orange bottle in your hand. god, who could even pronounce a name like that? the name of the medication sounded so....chemical.
"that's also a 30 day supply, alright? when you run out, make sure you contact me or the pharmacy, and we can get you a fresh batch," the doctor spoke. but you could barely respond, overwhelmed with emotion. you couldn't help the tears watering in your eyes.
"hey. depression is a manageable condition. you will be able to live life, as long as you know how to manage it in a way that works for you," the doctor puts her hands on top of yours, "sometimes its medication, sometimes its self care, sometimes its journaling or going for walks.."
you sniffle and wipe your eyes with your sleeve, "thank you, means a lot."
"of course. you can do this. i believe in you." i can do this.
as you make the walk from the doctors office to ellie's car, a bundle of nerves bubbled in your stomach. you weren't sure how this new medication would affect you and ellie's relationship. surely, there was nothing to worry about, as ellie had been extremely supportive of you during this turbulent time. she was the one who suggested to get help in the first place, an idea you'd forever be grateful for.
"please, ellie, i just want to be alone," you murmur.
she just came home from work and was shocked to see you still in bed, with the curtains drawn and all the lights closed, laying in the dark.
"baby...what's been goin' on?" ellie whispers softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers slowly stroking the bare skin on your shoulder.
"jus' don't feel like doing anything anymore, called out of work for this week," you mutter, burying your head back in the deep fluff of the pillow.
ellie's brows drew together in worry. she was starting to feel concerned for you. at first, she thought it was just sadness that you were feeling as you sulked around the house in your pajamas with your messy bun, shoveling your favorite ice cream in your mouth.
but as the weeks progressed, ellie would soon observe that what you were going through was much more than simply 'feeling sad'.
when you would come home from work, you would just lock yourself in your shared bedroom, reeling in sleep instead. when you were off, you wouldn't want to do anything but stay cooped up under the covers of your blanket — as if you lost interest in all the hobbies that gave you joy. ellie noticed that you barely ate or drank water, only coming out of the bedroom to use the toilet. it wasn't until she noticed that you weren't even changing your clothes or showering, than she comprehended the gravity of the situation.
"come here, sweet girl. tell me what's been on your mind," ellie laid on the mattress, pressing her body against yours and wrapping her arm tightly around your waist.
"i don't know what's been going on with me, els," you mumble, a slight crack in your voice, "i jus' have no motivation to do anything. i don't look forward to doing anything— i'm just tired all the time and—” tears begin to fall down your cheeks, "i don't know what to do anymore."
it pained ellie to see you like this — hopeless. she knew she had to do something, to be there for you.
ellie kissed the skin behind your neck, blinking away her own tears, "alright, baby, i hear you," she whispered against your hair, "i think you need to get some help, professional help. you have to talk to someone."
"i think so too, els."
ellie lifted herself off the mattress with her elbows, hovering over your body, "we'll worry about that in the morning. tonight, we'll take a nice, warm shower, get some hot food in your belly, and watch a funny movie. sound nice, pretty girl?"
after thinking for awhile, you nod, and ellie plants a soft kiss upon your lips, and helps you get up to the bathroom.
she peeled off your clothes, and you both got in the hot, steamy shower. ellie was careful and steady in handling you. she massaged your scalp with your favorite shampoo, lathering it in suds, and making sure to moisturize the ends of your hair with a hair mask after rinsing off all the shampoo (a step she knew you would've cussed at her for if she forgot). her hands squeezed body wash onto the shower cloth, gently massaging the frothy fabric all over your skin, covering it in a layer of fragrant, bubbles.
after cleaning both of you up, ellie helped you dress in some comfy clothes (her clothes), and cooked one of your favorite meals, filling up your belly with some much needed delicious comfort and turning on a funny film as you both dug in.
opening the passenger seat door of her car, you plopped in the seat.
"how was it?"
"was okay. cried in front of the doctor, but besides that, she was really nice about it," your hands opened the paper bag, taking out the little orange bottle, "she prescribed me this.
ellie took the bottle from your hands, giving it a gentle shake, and reading the label, "holy shit, sounds like a fuckin' harry potter spell or something."
you shrug, "doctor says i have to take it everyday, same time."
"good thing you have a very loving and annoying girlfriend to help with that."
-
you were sitting on the couch, cuddled up against ellie, watching reruns of your favorite show and snacking on your favorite chips. her phone began going off, playing that annoying default 'radar' alarm. she took her phone from her pocket, and smiled.
"time to take your meds, baby!" she enthused, showing you her phone, the screen reading 'medication time 😎'.
you groaned, not wanting to move from your comfortable position, "uuugggghhh, ellie, i'm comfy right here. i don' wanna get up."
"then i'll go," ellie says, standing up, leaving you to plant face first on the cushions of the sofa.
what a sweet girlfriend you had.
-
ellie had been wanting to try this new brunch place that just opened, and just by the luck of the draw, you had secured a reservation for sunday morning.
perusing through the menu, you settled on the idea of having the strawberries and cream french toast with eggs and sausage. your mouth was already watering at the thought of the sustenance hitting your taste buds.
"what are you getting?" you prod, looking up at your girlfriend.
she appeared to be deep in thought, like she was contemplating a life-altering decision, "i have no idea. i'm stuck between the nashville hot chicken and waffles or the kitchen sink omelette. fuck, didn't think this was gonna be so hard."
you giggled, "if your appetite allows it, maybe get both?"
as ellie was about to respond, that dang alarm went off again. she opened her phone and showed you her screen, 'medication time 😎'.
you rolled your eyes, and unzipped your bag, rummaging through its contents. biting your lip, the realization settled into you.
"i didn't bring it with me, i think i forgot it, els," you mention, worry in your tone, "ugh, i'm so dumb. i think i left it on the kitchen counter? i dunno— maybe if i leave right now i can—"
"babe." ellie snaps you out of your thoughts, taking out the little orange bottle and placing it on the table.
your heart swelled in your chest. she remembered to bring it?
"you...brought it?" you questioned.
"of course, had to make sure you took it. gotta take care of my girl."
-
the side effects of the medication took you by surprise — especially heightened emotions.
all it took was watching one tiktok video of a very fluffy australian sheperd celebrating her 12th birthday, and you were a goner.
"ellie! she's an old lady!!" you babbled like a baby, and all ellie could do was hold you and stroke the spine of your back as you cried into her sweatshirt.
"yeah, baby, i know, i know," she cooed in your ear, rocking you back and forth.
"she's all gray and old— and, and— she moves so slow, ellie. w-why—" you used a tissue to blow your nose, "—w-why do d-dogs have to get o-old?"
"because, sweet girl, they age like humans too," ellie grabs your face and kisses your wet cheeks, "but hey, think of it like this, she spent her very long, long life being loved by her family. love is all shes ever known."
you look up at her with big glossy eyes, calming down from your little breakdown, "y-yeah, i guess you're right."
"besides, she's still alive, baby. don't worry. she's not gone, yet." oops, ellie shouldn't have said that, knowing too well you were a ticking time bomb.
you exploded into a ball of tears, sobbing louder than ever before, "ELLIE!!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!!"
ellie scrambled around, trying to calm your nerves, and also hoping that mrs. chu, the little old lady in the apartment next door, couldn't hear you through the thin walls.
-
after a difficult day at work, you unlocked the door to your apartment.
luckily it was friday, and you were off for the weekend.
the doctor said on days like these, self care is important.
you treated yourself to a lovely bubble bath with a glass of wine, and then you ordered take-out from you and ellie's favorite mom and pop shop.
as you waited for ellie to come home, you opened your journal and wrote down some affirmations.
i am confident.
i am strong.
i am beautiful.
i am loved.
i am protected.
i love myself unconditionally.
"hey, pretty thing, what'cha doin'?" ellie greets you with a kiss on your cheek, plopping down on the sofa next to you.
"just had a hard day at work today— needed to remind myself of some things," you say, closing your journal and placing it down on the coffee table.
"yeah? any way i can help, babe?"
you shake your head, "nope, just you being here is enough for me," you chide as you lean over to press your lips against hers.
"i can definitely do that," ellie says, smiling as she pulls away, "just remember, healing is never linear, okay? there will be easy days and some will be harder than others. as long as you take care of yourself and surround yourself with support, it'll be okay. and if everything isn't okay, that's fine too. just as long as you move forward."
if u deal w a mental health condition or something of the sort, remember ur not alone and help is always there when u need it! u are very loved and appreciated <3 and if u take meds, remember to take them!! ily bestie
xoxo frankie <3
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2knightt · 1 year
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DOLL I NEED ANYTHING W SODA (anything tht ur heart desires loveee) 😍💞
↳can i get a kiss?₊˚✧
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➬ sodapop x reader
a/n;HI LOVEEEEE OMFG<333 IM MAKING A FIC WHERE SODAPOP LEGIT FALLS INLOVE WITH READER BC I LOVE THOSE FICS
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real hot day in oklahoma, you were almost melting.
you were gonna just, chill in your yard all day. no real plans, honestly.
you walked into the DX, hoping for at least a cold coke..or some chips. you couldn’t be that picky.
but when you walked in?? sodapop had fucking heart eyes. he almost started floating with harps playing in the background.
honestly, soda was hoping you’d be quick so you’d come to the register faster.
and luckily, you were.
grabbed your favourite drink and chips and you were done!
you walked to the register where you seen a really, really, cute dude working there.
“heyy!! is this all?”
“yeah.”
he asked—way to cheery for a job as a cash register in a place with no air conditioning.
when he finished ringing you up, you pulled out your wallet.
“hey, it’s on the house. okay?”
on the house?
huh, nice. you really can’t complain about free stuff.
“thank you, uh..”
you wanted to thank him personally, but you couldn’t.
he wasn’t wearing his name tag—nor did he introduce himself.
“sodapop!”
“huh?”
odd name, you thought.
your reaction only made him smile even wider, for some reason…
“that’s my real name! pretty cool, huh? what’s yours?”
“y/n. lovely to meet you, sodapop.”
you said, smiling and waving as a goodbye.
as soon as you left, sodapop went running to steve.
“DID YOU SEE THAT REALLY PRETTY GIRL?!”
“what?”
sodapop sighed and rolled his eyes at his best friends confusion.
“the girl that just came in.”
“oh—yeah i saw her, why?”
steve asked, raising an eyebrow.
“well—wasn’t she jus’ stunning?! her voice almost made me weak in the knees!”
sodapop cooed about the girl. steve just thought he was being weird and went back to work.
for the next few days, sodapop worked the register. he didn’t like it that much, he just hoped to see you again.
and his hoping actually got him somewhere.
you went back to the DX for a coke, that’s it.
when sodapop seen you walk in, he sprung up out of his bored, laidback attitude and put on a cheerful one.
“y/n, right? nice to see you again!”
he said, basically shouting.
his smile was so bright, it was almost blinding.
but seeing him so happy, made you happy too. and you didn’t know why..maybe it was because he was nice?
you couldn’t find an answer to your own questions.
“it’s free, again! well—maybe not.”
“what do you mean?”
you asked, gently.
what does he mean? maybe not? is it free or is it not?
“it’d be real nice if you..gave me your number in exchange..?”
he said, or almost asked. he said it in such an awkward tone, but with such a goofy grin on his face.
you thought sodapop was a real looker and to be honest, you were quite bored yourself.
“depends, you got a pen?”
the boy perked up—searching every inch of the table for a pen, and he luckily found one.
he handed the pen to you, showing you his palm.
you grasped the pen and wrote your number in red ink on his palm.
“thanks.”
you said, walking out.
but just as you left—you could’ve sworn you heard a bunch of screaming. like a celebration of some sorts.
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may 30th, 2023. 5:00PM.
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honeykngdom · 1 year
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the caretaker | iruka umino
Pairing: Iruka Umino x 19+f!reader Synopsis: It's particularly rainy that Sunday morning. You have places to be, and the rain certainly wasn't going to stop you - a pothole in the road might, however. How embarrassing, now you're late and wet. Oh, God, please tell me you didn't see that? WC: N/A - nothing but fluff. Word Count: 5.5k A/N: tbh I fell in love with the idea of iruka being soft and taking care of me, so I decided to write something to fulfil my own need since I couldn't find anything to scratch that itch. Reader is a Sarutobi bc the plot required it. If you liked reading my work, please know my requests are open & I offer taglists for new content I post! :)
Read part two here!
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It was raining outside. Under any other circumstance, Iruka wouldn’t have minded. Except that it was cold, and wet, and it was Halloween. And normally, Iruka didn’t have arrangements for Halloween, so the terrible forecast wouldn’t have been a concern – except that he did this year, and the rain was impeding on those particular plans. 
For the last two years, Halloween landed on a school day. For the most part, he was bogged down with lending an additional hand after class. In prior years, he didn’t bother to celebrate the holiday simply because he hadn’t had the time. It appeared that wasn’t a sufficient answer for Master Jiraiya. 
The Sannin arrived in town just the night prior after a gruelling month of training with Naruto; he was dining at Ichiraku’s with Kakashi and Asuma. They feasted on ramen while Iruka listened to the tales of their various training. He was always impressed as a teacher of the Academy to listen to the growth and strength that students of his past accomplished in their own personal endeavours. Especially with Naruto. The boy was an enigma, Iruka decided, one he was keen on rooting for. 
But no amount of compliments to Jiraiya and his masterful work with Naruto could spare Iruka from the dreaded conversation; what was going on for the holiday in the village? Iruka all but hung his head in his ramen bowl as the conversation around him ensued. It was unsurprising that Kakashi knew the goings-on of celebrations within the village; the man knew everything about everyone, for the most part. Asuma, not unlike Iruka, also didn’t typically partake in the festivities, but appeared rather intrigued at the prospect of joining his fellow comrades in a night of fun. 
Iruka tried to avoid it; he was busy grading, preparing next week's lessons, and watering his plants – to no avail. Jiraiya all but insisted that Iruka join them for the evening. No if, ands, or buts about it. This brought Iruka to his current predicament. Not only did he have plans for the evening, it was also pouring with rain. 
He watched the puddles from his perch on his small balcony attached to his second story apartment. The streets were painted a dark grey from the moisture, curbsides overflowing with an ongoing stream that seemed to come from and go nowhere in particular. The tea in his hand was far from serving its purpose of keeping him warm, which was a pity, given it was the last of his favourite herbal blend. Iruka signed petulantly, circling the remainder of the cup's contents in a slow motion.
When he heard the yelp, he nearly leaped from where he stood to the sound. Looking up to search the street once again, he noticed the laying figure of a young woman. From the way her wicker basket sat several feet away from her, Iruka determined she must have fallen in her travel. He watched her for a few moments, noticing that she was slow to rise to her feet. Ultimately, he decided if anything, he needed to ensure she wasn’t injured. 
In your rush to make it to your aunt’s get together in time, you had stupidly forgotten to securely fasten one of the ankle straps on your rollerblades. Under normal conditions, it wouldn’t have proven to be too much of a problem; but when you’re speeding down the road and forget about the pothole just on the left hand side, it certainly can be. 
You probably should’ve moved. You were in the middle of the street, after all. Sure, it was raining and there was likely no one coming that you could be a bother too, but nonetheless. You were laying in the dirty street. In a puddle. And you’re pretty sure your ankle would begin to swell just about any moment. 
“Just great,” you muttered to yourself, unable to contain your annoyance any longer. It was nothing but obstacles since your eyes opened that morning. You ran out of your favourite tea blend, and in your search of finding something new to pair with your morning eggs, you burnt the last of them. You had no hot water when you went to shower – something that now seemed futile, given that your hair was soaked in rain water and mud. And, you were running late.
You heard the slam of a door followed by the approach of footsteps. You turned slowly, using your arms to push yourself up off the ground with a groan. 
“Are you alright?” 
Looking up, a gentleman stood above you with an umbrella in one hand and the other stretched out as an offer of help. He looked so comfortable in his training pants and turtleneck – comfortable and dry. You went to grab the hand he held out, and grimaced when you noticed the scrapes across your palm mixed with pieces of gravel. 
“I’ve been better.” You conceded, brushing your hands across your pants as soon as you were standing upright. You noted a tear in the knee in one pant leg and frowned. “Thank you for coming to help me, though.” You turned to the man that was now bent over and collecting the various items that had fallen from your basket. Oh, no – the taiyaki! “My desserts!” 
Rolling forward to grab the basket, the movement of your weight from one leg to the next sent a shooting pain throughout the entirety of your ankle and up the front of your leg. With a short cry, you went to collapse to the ground again, but found yourself caught by a pair of firm hands. 
“Woah, easy! I think it’d be best if you get that ankle checked out.” Iruka felt horrible. There was something about the way your face broke at the sight of your soaked taiyaki that made him feel all the more guilty, although he hadn’t the faintest clue why he would. “Those are death traps you have strapped to your feet.” 
You shot a look up at him. “They are not!” 
“That so?” Iruka’s brow lifted in challenge, slowly removing his grip from your arms to allow you to steady yourself on your own feet. From the look of pain that pulled your brows together, he had proven his point. “It should be looked at.” 
You sighed petulantly. Looking up at him now that the umbrella was situated over both of you, you allowed your brain a moment to register the man standing in front of you. You knew Iruka. You were only a few years his junior, so the pair of you never shared a class or completed any training together. But he was a familiar face, and a friendly one at that. 
“I appreciate the concern, Iruka. But I’m actually running late.” 
“I don’t think you understand,” he began, shaking his head slowly as he explained, “you’re not going to make it very far in this condition, and certainly not in this weather. Aren’t you in pain?” 
Of course I’m in pain, you thought coarsely. “I promised my nephew taiyaki, I’m bringing him taiyaki.” 
Iruka paused. As much as he wanted to argue that it was imperative you seek medical attention, he could appreciate that you felt you had a duty to fulfil. He often felt that same sense of duty when tending to his students. He took a moment to assess the situation, gnawing on the inside of his cheek while he processed. 
“For Halloween?” 
You nodded your head. “It’s his favourite holiday, and I love that he loves all things scary. I make him taiyaki every year and we eat it after we carve pumpkins.” 
Iruka fell into silence again; the two of you stood under the shared umbrella surrounded by the pouring rain with your basket full of the ruined dessert hanging between the two of you in your hands. If you weren’t soaked to the bone, and your ankle wasn’t screaming with pain, it might have otherwise been quite a pleasant little moment. 
Finally, Iruka spoke with an even and controlled tone. “I think it would be a good idea if you let someone take a look at your ankle. Besides, you can’t bring these to Konohamaru,” he held up one of the fish-shaped waffles between his fingers, “he’ll just come to the Academy tomorrow and tell everyone all about it. Do you want all the other youth to hear about how your taiyaki was soggy?” 
Could this be considered blackmail? You wondered, skeptically eyeing him. Probably not. But he was making a good case, unfortunately. 
“If I go to the clinic now, I can kiss the rest of my day goodbye.” 
Iruka paused, pursing his lips together in a firm line; then he sighed. “I can take a look at your ankle for you.” 
This time, you hesitated. You watched him for a long moment, searching his face for any indicator that he might be just saying that for the sake of being polite; but from where you stood, he appeared nothing if not sincere. While you didn’t entirely love the prospect of letting Iruka see your foot, there was still the matter of your wet clothing. 
You grimaced. “I’m not sure.” 
“At most, it’s probably a sprain. You can ice it for a bit and then I’ll wrap it for you.” He replied, his face remaining calm and even. 
You looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m going to drag mud in.” 
Iruka sighed. “Are you always this stubborn when offered help?” 
You almost laughed. “Unfortunately. Bad habit, I guess.”
“How about this: I’ll help get you back home, that way you can change into something dry and then we can set you up with a temporary fix for your foot.”
Admittedly, that was a better option. The feeling of your pants clinging to your body from the rain was beginning to irritate you greatly, and you were itching to get out of these clothes. “Okay, that’s not a horrible idea.” 
Iruka lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-grin, shifting the umbrella from one hand to the next. “Do you think you can manage if you hold onto me?” 
You shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.” 
The pair of you only made it to the top of the hill and around the corner before you halted entirely and shook your head. If you lived closer, it may have been feasible, but you still had another eight minutes to go. No chance you’d make it. After another five minutes of arguing, Iruka opted to pull you onto his back. It was decided that it was the easiest option to get you back to your apartment without putting further strain on your ankle, all while keeping you both safe from the rain. 
The short walk back to your home was quiet. Iruka needed to use both hands to hold you steady, leaving you in charge of keeping the umbrella upright and over the both of you. Sometime along the way, you became increasingly aware that you were soaking his clothing with your own — something you felt terribly for. You wanted to apologize for it, but you knew Iruka would shrug it off. Always the gentleman. 
“Here, let me help you.” Iruka knelt down once you were safely concealed inside your apartment. Remnants of your baking clung to the air and the space was still warm. You watched as the man’s fingers worked to undo the straps on your rollerblades; you quickly placed a hand on the wall beside you to steady yourself when he loosened the laces. “Can you step out of them?” 
Albeit painful, you did manage to remove your feet and place them flat on the floor. Iruka placed your rollerblades next to a pair of sneakers you had just to the left of your front door, then stood and immediately began removing his own footwear. 
“Do you own a tensor bandage?” He inquired, placing his jacket on the hook next to the one you had opted to leave at home just twenty short minutes ago. 
“Somewhere in the bathroom,” you pointed to the door across the way. 
Iruka nodded once. “I’ll go look for it. You find something dry to change into.” 
He left you where you stood and made his way across your tiny studio to where the bathroom was. He shut the door behind him, offering you a moment of privacy; it was when the door was closed and you were alone that you finally took a moment to process what was happening. 
Six years ago, you would have simply died to have Iruka hold you close, in any regard. Thankfully, you no longer felt like your tongue was swollen every time he happened to say hello when passing by in the streets. Overtime, the silly school-girl crush dissipated into respect - a mutual respect. You weren’t entirely sure when it happened. Maybe after Konohamaru started at the academy. 
Not wanting to waste any more time, you quickly rummaged through your closet for a pair of clean joggers and a matching sweater. Peeling the rain-soaked jeans from your legs was the least enjoyable part of the process, but one you were grateful for. The flesh of your thighs were so cold it felt as though it was being pricked by thousands of tiny needles. 
By the time Iruka exited out of the bathroom, you were pulling your sweater over your head. He found the tensor bandage and was stretching it out between his hands, his eyes lifting up to meet yours from across the space. “You look more comfortable.” He smiled. 
“I am,” you conceded with a nod and a smile in return, “thank you for getting me home. I’m sure you have better things to be doing with your afternoon.”
Iruka chuckled and shook his head. “No bother at all.” The man appeared sincere, coming to sit down next to you on the tiny loveseat nestled at the foot of your bed. He pursed his lips together tightly and patted his meaty thigh twice. “Alright, let’s take a look.” 
Removing the sock from your foot was the last thing you had wanted to do, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. You gave a quiet sigh, then reached down to slip the material of your sock away from your foot. Iruka helped guide your ankle into place on his leg; he then spent a few moments surveying the tenderness, his fingers gently touching along the swollen area. He kissed his teeth, offering a slight ‘tut’. 
“I think you may need something to help bring the swelling down.” He finally decided.
“I’ve got a bottle of painkillers up there.” You sighed, pointing over to the cabinets above your stove. “There’s also a bag of frozen vegetables in the freezer, could you grab it for me?” 
Iruka was quick to retrieve the items; he filled a small glass with some tap water and made his way back over to the loveseat to sit next to you. He set two tablets into the palm of your hand and watched you throw them into the back of your mouth before he handed you the water to swallow them down. When he was sure you had taken them, he took the glass from your hand and placed it on the table in front of him before gingerly placing the frozen bag of peas over your ankle. 
You couldn’t help but still feel embarrassed. Surely he had better things to do with his Sunday than play caretaker for you. “I’m so sorry.” 
Surprised, Iruka looked over at you. “What are you apologizing for?”
You shrugged once. “This definitely isn’t the best way to spend an afternoon, let alone your Halloween.”
The smile that Iruka flashed at you was warm and comforting. “Trust me, this is more up my alley than going out to celebrate.” 
You rolled your eyes. That felt hard to believe. “What, you don’t go out with Asuma and the others?”
This time, it was Iruka who looked embarrassed. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck in a guilty manner, his eyes slipping closed as his cheeks lifted in an innocent smile. “I have a great deal of respect for your brother,” he admitted, “but Jiraiya can certainly be a little enthusiastic. Large gatherings aren’t exactly my idea of a good time.” 
You blinked twice, then snorted. “Are you scared of the jōnin, Iruka?” 
“Absolutely not!”
“Master Jiraiya’s enthusiasm is not a good enough excuse to opt out of Halloween,” you retorted. 
Iruka sighed. “What if I say something stupid?” 
You couldn’t help but laugh again. What a silly thing to be worried about, given that your older brother had his own fair share of stupidity. However, you also knew that Asuma also held most people at arm's length at all times, and so the remainder of the village didn’t have the privilege of knowing the Asuma that your family did. For the most part, he was rough around the edges; most certainly the suffer in silence type. But over the last few years during his budding relationship with Kurenai, another side of him began to make its appearance. Someone softer, more tender. 
“If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t.” You lamented. “People say stupid things when they’re halfway through a bottle of sake.” 
The man next to you seemed to visibly relax. “I suppose you’re right.” 
“Besides, if Master Jiraiya invited you, then you’d ought to be there. I don’t really think anyone in the village turns down a request from one of the Legendary Sannin.”
Iruka seemed to consider this. Admittedly, he would never let it be known that he just simply didn’t care for the antics of the holiday. In his youth, Halloween was the perfect day to plan for. He’d spend hours upon hours pulling together the most elaborate pranks; as responsibility came to the forefront, Iruka found that he spent less and less time giving a second thought about trivial things like holiday celebrations. Not having a family to celebrate with may have also played a part in that. 
“What about you?”
Confused, you replied, “What about me?” 
“Do you have any plans for the evening?” Iruka inquired, quickly followed by: “I mean, apart from trying to deliver moist desserts to a poor unsuspecting child?” 
“To be fair, Konahamaru is expecting them.” You couldn’t help but snicker at his words. He was teasing you, and despite the fact the pair of you had not engaged in a steady conversation in almost four years, Iruka teasing you felt natural. As though he had been doing it his whole life. “But no, no plans. I probably would’ve been home after spending the afternoon with him and spent the evening watching a bad thriller and eating leftovers.” 
“That doesn’t sound like an awful time.” He lied. Did she do this every year? Understandably, bringing sweets to your nephew seemed like a wholesome tradition – returning home like a hermit to indulge in the most basic and mundane of activities? 
Well, Iruka couldn’t really judge. If he had it his way, he would be staying home tonight. Glancing down at your iced ankle, he decided if he was lucky enough, he could maybe weasel his way out of it.
You shrugged. “Not as fun as hanging out with my brother, I suppose.” 
Iruka tensed, lifting his hand to the back of his neck to scratch the area lightly. It was still damp with rain from outside, but he was no longer cold. Actually, he noticed it was quite warm inside your studio. “Can I ask you a favour?” 
“Anything.” It came out embarrassingly fast. You hoped he couldn’t see the heat creeping up your neck. 
He appraised you for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nevermind. I couldn’t ask that of you.”
You decided not to press it any further; truthfully, you were a little annoyed. Now you were curious. What had he wanted to ask you? “I think I should probably wrap it now.” 
Iruka nodded, dutifully tending to your ankle. Using both hands, he gently guided your foot from the table to his lap; he spent time examining the wound closely before unravelling the tensor bandage. He began at the base of your foot, then slowly brought it up in careful motions around your swollen ligament. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he tucked the loose end of the bandage into one of the loops and repositioned the bag of frozen vegetables over your ankle. 
“I appreciate you helping me,” you said after a moment. Admittedly, everything that happened to you up until this point should have had you in tears of frustration — nothing had gone right. Yet, from the moment Iruka joined you outside in the rain to offer you a helping hand, the anger began to melt away. Now, the only thing weighing on your mind was the fact Konohamaru would go his first Halloween in six years without you and your shared desserts. “It’s nice to have a friend.”
It sounded so foreign coming from your mouth, but you were sincere. 
“I won’t keep you any longer.” You said suddenly, feeling silly for not sending him off sooner. “Wouldn’t want to keep Jiriya waiting, would you?” 
Iruka sighed. “I suppose.” He was slow to move, staring down at his hands that rested in his lap for a few moments longer before he turned towards your body. “I have a few hours before I’m expected anywhere, and I think I should make sure you get something to eat first.”
“Iruka, I’m fine.” You assured him. 
The man nodded in agreement, but remained seated. “I hear you, I just think Asuma may think differently of me if I were to head out without making sure you were set for the rest of the evening. What kind of a man would I be if I left you now?” He said it nonchalantly, but there was a heavy insinuation behind his words. 
You sighed, “I highly doubt Asuma would care.”
Iruka looked pointedly at you, “Would Asuma do it?” He asked, waiting patiently for your answer. When you lowered your eyes to the table in front of you, the man next to you chuckled and nodded in satisfaction. Because he was right – Asuma wouldn’t have left anyone’s side without ensuring they had everything they needed. You chalked it up to the way you were raised; your father had been an attentive man, and your brother seemed to be following in his footsteps. “That’s what I thought.” 
Unwilling to argue with him, you accepted defeat and leaned back into the cushions of your sofa. “Fine. If you feel you must,” you grumbled lowly, trying to sound annoyed albeit unsuccessfully – Iruka appeared amused – and folded your arms indignantly across your chest, “what were you thinking?” 
The man simply smiled, pushing himself off the sofa to wander over to the pantry just next to your fridge. He spent a few moments browsing through the various items you had leftover in your fridge and cupboard, compiling a batch of ingredients onto the countertops. 
He paused after a while, a sound of displeasure breaking the silence. “No eggs?” 
Guilty, you sunk lower into the pillows. “I used my last two this morning.” 
Iruka looked over his shoulder to where you sat. He didn’t appear to appreciate that answer, and after shutting the fridge door, he made his way over to where he had left his shoes by your front door. 
“Where are you going?” You asked, embarrassed by how quickly it had come from your lips. 
He looked over to you again, his expression blank as he responded. “Heading to the market, I need eggs.” 
You looked over to where your bag sat at his feet and sat up. “I have some change in the front pocket —”
Iruka held up his hand to stop you. “Nonsense, I’ve got it.”
Iruka looked so out of place standing in the middle of your tiny kitchen. He towered over the top of the fridge, needing to bend considerably in order to investigate its contents. His shoulders and back flexed with every movement; you found yourself mesmerized as he diligently diced the veggies into fine slices, absolutely enamoured with the current visual taking place. Admittedly, you never wanted it to end. For a moment, you allowed yourself to live in delusion. Having Iruka up close and personal like this made you long for something more permanent. 
An hour later, Iruka set down a large bowl overflowing with a heaping pile of steaming deliciousness. “Tantanmen is served!” 
You watched as he sat down across from you, noting the way he left his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and kept the apron around his waist. It was amusing to see Iruka so domestic; you only knew him as a prankster growing up, and in his later years, as a dutiful and dedicated teacher. To see him in any other light was strange, and yet, still refreshing. 
“It looks incredible,” you couldn’t lie even if you wanted to. The scents that now filled your apartment had you practically drooling by the time dinner was ready. 
“I wasn’t sure how much spice you could handle, so I went a little easy on yours.” He admitted, watching you intently as you took the first bite. When you closed your eyes and hummed in delight, his mouth broke open into a wide-toothed grin. 
“It’s delicious.” You claimed, happily digging in for a second bite. “Wish I could cook like this.”
“Asuma doesn’t bother to teach you?” He inquired. 
You shrugged. “When we were younger, sure. But, it’s been sixteen years since our mom died. I can’t imagine he remembers all of her recipes.” 
Iruka hesitated with his next question. “Do you remember much of her? Your mom?” 
“No.” You frowned, pushing the noodles around in the broth. “I was six when she was killed. Most of any memories that I have of her include watching her practice medical ninjutsu, more so when Kushina was pregnant.” 
“That’s right,” Iruka nodded, “I had forgotten Biwako was one of Kushina’s midwives.” 
You sat back, staring down into your bowl of ramen. “Seems like so long ago, when you consider everything.” 
The man pursed his lips, watching you quietly for a moment before he leaned forward onto the table. “Do you ever think about following in her footsteps?” 
You smiled, mostly to yourself. “Sometimes. I’m a fair kunoichi, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not sure if maternal practice is the best suited for me.” 
Iruka nodded. “You mean that you prefer to be in the field.”
You shrugged sheepishly, meeting his gaze. “I blame Asuma for that. Reckless as he is, he may as well have his own team of medical-kunoichi.” You sighed deeply, dropping your eyes. “Not that I’ve been out in a while. Since my old man died, well . . .” you trailed off, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 
“No one thinks any less of you, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“I’d like to say I believe you,” you mumbled dryly, “but people treat me differently now that he’s gone. Not bad, but almost like they feel bad for me. Like I need their pity.” 
Iruka folded his arms on the table, “I hardly think anyone pity’s you. You’re a Sarutobi, for God’s sake.”
“Sure feels like it.” Now you just felt silly, pouting at your grown age like this. In front of Iruka, nonetheless. 
The man across from you sighed, unsure of how else he could comfort you. Iruka had watched you train plenty of times; from his classroom at the Academy, he had the perfect view of a few of the training fields that chūnin and jōnin gathered at to practice. He would be lying if he said he didn’t watch Asuma help you work on your hand signals from time to time, or that he found it amusing when you became frustrated.  
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he said after a while of silence. The softness of his voice surprised you. “I know that living this life can be difficult for most, but I would like to think that your father and mother wouldn’t want you to feel like this. Hiruzen spoke about the will of fire so often, I felt like I needed to make it my personal mission to ignite it within the youth of our village. 
Sometimes I forget about how much will the rest of us harbour. I see it in Asuma everyday. I see it in Kakashi, and even Naruto and Shikamaru. They show up for their teammates and their friends every day, they make the choice to continue to aid the community and village in their own unique ways. Whether that be through completing missions at the benefit of protecting the village, or through enhancing their own strengths with vigorous training. It exists in all of us, and undoubtedly within you, too.” 
Unable to hide the blood that rushed to your cheeks, you looked down into your bowl and moved around the noodles. Iruka was right. Maybe you did need to stop being so hard on yourself. 
The pair of you sat across from each other for at least another hour or two before either of you realized the sun was setting behind the tops of the apartments; the rain had cleared, but the streets remained damp with puddles. A part of you was a little disappointed the afternoon had flown by so quickly. Spending time with Iruka turned out to be incredibly relaxing, and it turned out the two of you had a lot more in common than you previously thought. 
You decided that you liked the way he smiled with his eyes. You liked the way the area around them crinkled whenever he lifted his lips into a grin. His hair was beginning to fall in stray strands from his neatly formed ponytail, and while you didn’t understand the logic, it made him all the more human. Intimate, even. Iruka was always seen pulled together, despite working closely with some of the most rambunctious youth the village had ever seen. Even during his sparring matches, a single hair never fell out of place. 
The broad shouldered man was leaning into the counter as he washed the small batch of dishes you had accumulated throughout the day. You told him to leave them and protested profusely, but he waved you away with a laugh in reassurance.
“Are you going to end up meeting with Asuma and the others?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. 
“Why don’t you come with me?” He asked in return, turning away from the sink. “I’m sure no one would mind.”
You almost laughed in disbelief. “I wasn’t necessarily invited.”
Iruka shrugged nonchalantly. “I fail to see the problem. Like you just said, Asuma’s going.”
You thought about it. Surely you would get some grief about not making it to see Konohamaru, but being able to join your brother and his friends in the festivities. Not that Asuma would truly care — if anything, you were more concerned about how he may react to seeing you in a bandage. Protective as ever, Asuma was. 
“Should I really be walking around just yet?” You wondered, looking down at your ankle with uncertainty.
Iruka wiped his hands on a small towelette, his head tilting to the side as he appraised you for a brief moment. Then, he replied, “If it gets to be too much, I will carry you home.” 
From the definitive look in his gaze, you could tell he was sincere. You felt like you had no other choice but to chalk it up to the simple fact Iruka didn’t want to attend this gathering any more than you did, but a small, miniscule part you really wanted it to be because he enjoyed spending time with you. 
“You’ll carry me all the way back?” 
He nodded once. “And you can always lean on me if you need to take a load off, though, I imagine we will be able to sit.”
We will. It may have been wishful thinking, but you wanted to believe that meant he would stay by your side the rest of the night. Suddenly excited with the prospect of spending the remainder of your evening with him, you finally decided to nod and brace your hands on your knees. 
“Alright. I’ve just got one more favour to ask before we head out anywhere, though.” You admitted sheepishly, looking sideways at him. 
He only chuckled, something that always sounded carefree. “Name it.” 
“I may need help changing into something a little less … casual.” 
This time, it was Iruka who appeared to scramble to hide blush that creeped into his own cheeks. Flustered, he nodded but for the first time, suddenly looked completely frozen.
“Don’t worry,” you giggled, noticing the way he gulped noticeably when you began to unzip your sweater, “I won’t tell Asuma that you had a peek.”
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transboysokka · 1 year
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posting this as a text post bc it went way over the ask character limit lol
"I promise I'm fine... I just need some rest, that's all." Sokka didn't remove his hands from the sides of Zuko's face, still looking for a any sign of hurt in his husband's eyes. His own emotions were going haywire. He tried to keep them under control, but he knew Zuko would absolutely be able to pick up on the frantic note in his voice. And Sokka was fine with that- the stubborn firebender had almost been killed- assassinated- again- and not only was Zuko treating it like it wasn't a big deal, but he hadn't even bothered to tell Sokka about it. They were definitely having this conversation. Sokka tried to take a calming breath before speaking. "Babe. That's the problem. You almost just got sliced in half and you're acting like you don't even care! Well, I do! You weren't even gonna talk to me about it?" The tired look in Zuko's eyes shifted in an instant, into something harder. He raised his hands to pull Sokka's own hands off his face, stepping back and raising himself to his full height. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to do this, Sokka! This wasn't even close to the worst attempt, and I took care of it fine!" "Do you hear yourself? Since when is it normal to get ambushed by thugs when you go to the market?" "It's normal for me though, isn't it?" Zuko made a noise that sounded halfway between a frustrated groan and hysterical laughter. Sokka decided he didn't like that noise. "How many times have they come after either of us in the last few years? If I kept having feelings about it, I would never stop." Zuko's voice broke a little on the last word and he looked away, like he hadn't meant to open up this much about how he was- or wasn't- feeling. Sokka closed the distance between them and pulled him into an embrace. The other man allowed it, but his tense posture didn't relax. "Zuko. Listen to me," Sokka rarely called his lover by his name, but this felt tremendously important, and he wanted it to be heard fully, "Don't do this again. Don't shut yourself off. Remember? These feelings are what make us human, and I'm here for you. If we stop being scared to die, then we're no longer really alive." Sokka pulled back enough to make eye contact with his Fire Lord, and that was all it took. The dam broke, the tears started to flow, and Sokka held him as he sobbed.
Zuko started awake to the sound of his door opening, mind immediately clear of sleep as he rose to sitting in the dark, arms positioned for firebending. Sokka had only just begun to stir at his side, but Zuko was prepared to defend both of them. He relaxed as he saw Suki's silhouette in the doorframe as she entered the room and he gave an apologetic smile at the notion of attacking her. It wasn't unheard of for the warrior to join Zuko and Sokka at night, but tonight Suki was dressed for duty. Zuko frowned. This was official business then. He flicked his wrist and lit the candles in the room with his bending as Sokka finally woke up enough to notice what was happening, sitting and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "Suki? Whazamata?" She hesitated by the door and Zuko could see for the first time that something was wrong. Sokka saw it too and he was out of bed in an instant, suddenly awake as he rushed to her side. The warrior's uniform was covered in blood and she was trembling. Zuko could see the distant look in her wide eyes even from his position in the bed. As Sokka arrived beside her, she grabbed his hands and fell to her knees. Zuko was on his feet now too, crossing the room to meet them. "Suki. Hey, you're okay," he hoped, looking to Sokka for reassurance. "Suki, hey, look at me," the other man's eyes were searching Suki's, trying to gauge her condition, "Whose blood is that? Are you hurt?" "I'm... It's not mine..." her voice was weak, a bit slurred and... confused? But relief instantly flooded the two men- that would be one less thing to worry about, "...Jus' hit my head..." Zuko came to kneel on the floor beside the other two, gently feeling Suki's head for any signs of injury. There was a decent-sized bump at the back, but it luckily didn't seem to be bleeding- not anymore, at least. She was leaning heavier against Sokka's shoulder now though, and it would be important she stay awake. Satisfied, Zuko met her gaze. "You're safe now, Suki. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore." "No, that's not..." she furrowed her brow, like she was trying to remember something important. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she sat straighter as she remembered, "No, not me! It's... a-an assassin! They were right outside your door! I don't..." Sokka's eyes met Zuko's as the familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach returned. The feeling that he would never, truly be safe here and that he could always be moments away from dying. No. He made himself push back the reaction- promising himself that he'd have a reaction later- but now was not the time. Not yet. Fluidly, like they'd practiced for this scenario several times, Sokka squeezed both their hands and stood to go speak to the guards outside. In the same beat, Zuko moved to sit across from Suki, hands on her shoulders for support. Her gaze was slipping again. "Hey. Suki, look at me. You just saved our lives. Again. I will forever be grateful to you. You did a great job, and we're going to let the other Warriors handle this. You've done enough and we're just gonna stay right here. But you need to stay awake for me, can you do that?" Zuko knew he was rambling a bit, but he spoke slowly anyway to try to help Suki understand. "No, you don't... You both almost died because of me!" She was suddenly more lucid, tears coming to her eyes, and Zuko hoped Sokka would be back quickly- he knew how to have these types of conversations better than Zuko did. "Suki. If you weren't there, then we both would have died." As Zuko finished speaking, the door opened again and the tension in his shoulders eased somewhat as he saw Sokka slip back inside, nodding to confirm that the situation was in fact being handled. Sokka looked as tired as Zuko felt, and Zuko knew that they were both barely holding their emotions at bay for Suki's sake. He knelt back down to rejoin the two of them, smiling softly at Suki.
"You did good, Sooks." She shook her head again, like she knew that couldn't be right. "They should have never even made it into the palace in the first place..." Zuko... didn't know how to argue with that, especially with Suki as concussed and incoherent as she was. This was clearly going to be a conversation for later. For now... Suki started quietly sobbing and Sokka pulled her into an embrace. Zuko joined them, placing his arms protectively around both their shoulders. The rest could be dealt with and talked through later. But for now... this much, he could do for them.
"Fire Lord, I really must insist you eat something. You've been at the Ambassador's side for nearly a full day and you yourself don't look so-" "Leave us." "If you are worried about the poison Your Majesty, I assure you, the assassin has been found and apprehended. He was working alone and the kitchens have been closely monitored ever since Ambassador Sokka-" "I said GO!!" He threw fire. Nobody else came to bother them until Sokka woke up.
Sokka's eyes slid open. Why was he awake? It hurt to be awake. Everything hurt. Why couldn't they just- "Sokka! Hey!" He couldn't hold his head up, couldn't focus on who was talking to him. He felt gentle (gentle? That's not right...) hands alongside his face guide his head up to see... The Blue Spirit- Zuko? Not right not right he couldn't be here they would kill him- "Sokka..." His head fell back down and he could feel fingers working to loosen the chains that hung him by his arms from the ceiling. The work jostled his giant bruise of a body and he groaned. "Hang on Sokka, you're safe now. I'm gonna take you home..." It sounded like Zuko was crying, but that didn't make sense. Unless he was hurt too... "You... can't be here... kill you...." Sokka ground out. He really wished his voice would work, but he was just so thirsty... so tired... he hurt... The pressure on his arms and wrists loosened and he was being lowered to the ground. He couldn't hold back the whimper that came out when the gentle hands moved his stiff arms down to his sides. "Don't worry about me, Sokka. I'm okay, I'm gonna get you out of here. ...Can you walk?" He could only try to shake his head weakly. But at least in his new position on the floor, head supported in Zuko's lap, he could finally see his husband for the first time in... it made him dizzy to think about how long it had been. It couldn't have been more than a week... Sokka watched as Zuko seemed to assess Sokka's injuries. He didn't know what he must look like, but even as out of it as he was, he knew it wouldn't be pretty. The thought was confirmed by just how long it seemed to take for Zuko to check him over. And how the expression on his face changed the longer it took. Until he got to the- Oh. Memories came flooding back to Sokka before he shut them down- this was not the time or the place- of hot hands branding him over the tattoos on his ribs with an object he hadn't seen... It must have had some symbolic meaning, judging by the look on Zuko's face. Something evil and heinous to cover up the words of love he'd inked into himself for the man he'd loved. Zuko's face shuttered into something Sokka had only seen a few times, something dangerous and full of hatred. "Who gave you this?" he whispered. Sokka only wished he could have answered, but he was barely capable of speech as it was, and he really did have no idea about the details of the injury or how it got there- it all just faded together into one big blur of pain... Sokka's lack of an answer didn't seem to faze Zuko as he moved to prop Sokka against the closest wall- with plenty more pained groans on Sokka's part. "I'll be back soon." Sokka's stomach dropped. He knew what was going to happen. He tried to reach out a hand to get Zuko to stay, but it barely moved and the Blue Spirit didn't look back anyway. Sokka fell in and out of consciousness to the sounds of screaming and the smell of burning flesh- not his flesh, this time, he had to remind himself. When Zuko returned to shake him awake, the noise had stopped. The sharp look hadn't completely left his eye. "Zu... wish you didn't..." They were definitely going to be talking about this later, but for now that was all Sokka could manage. "Shh, those guys are never going to hurt you again. I made sure of it."
"Ambassador Sokka, as advisors to the Fire Lord, it is imperative that in times of crisis that we have full access to the Fire Lord's person to ensure that-" "Ambassador Sokka, are you listening? The Fire Lord has been unconscious for nearly three days and it is time for us to consider-" "Ambassador! We really must insist that you stop throwing weapons at us when we are just trying to do our jobs!" "Stay the fuck out of here and find me Chief Katara."
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berserkrs · 2 years
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ju jingyi, pansexual, cisgender female + she/her ― hey look, it’s fan xiao! they’re 26 years old, they’ve lived in shrike heights for a month, and they’re currently working at olive garden. i heard they’re pretty neurotic, but i think they’re so hard-working at the same time. can they make it out alive? || lo, 24, he/him.
B A S I C S
Name: Fan Xiao
Nickname(s): Xiǎo Hǔ
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: Pansexual
Age: 26
Birthday: Aug 30th, 1962
Birthplace: San Francisco, California, USA.
Occupation: Cook working at Olive Garden
Ethnicity: Chinese
Languages: Mandarin, English
Nationality: American
Education: Went to culinary school
B I O G R A P H Y
cw: insecurity, societal definition of beauty, body issues, bad parenting
Fan Xiao had spent her entire life chasing the elusive dream of perfection. Despite being only one older sibling, the shadow she grew up in was immense. In her parents’ eyes, her brother could do no wrong and had been perfect from the day he was born. Regardless of his failures, their parents loved him without condition.
The same could not be said for her. Her parents were nice enough to her, but were noticeably less interested in her and her interests. Since her older brother was the better looking child, wanted to be a doctor and was fulfilling their dreams in many ways, she just seemed dull in comparison, no matter how hard she tried. And boy did she try hard. She was always the first to volunteer for household chores, errands for their parents or the neighbourhood elders. She worked hard in school, studying hard to get stellar grades. Her competitiveness also pushed her into trying sports, though she had no real talent for them.
It was less about what she wanted to do or excel at and more about finally gaining that approval from her parents. But, it seemed that no matter what she did, she continued to pale in comparison to her brother.  
Her only passion outside of trying to become the favourite was cooking. She loved everything about food, making it, learning about new cuisines and above all, eating. This led her to pursuing a career in food. She currently works as a line cook at the Olive Garden in the mall, but has dreams of opening her own place one day.
She’s very neurotic and tries to be in control of all aspects of her life. This can lead to her being very overbearing to deal with, but she has an innate need to be perfect. 
She’s a deeply insecure person, even though to most people it seems a little crazy because there’s nothing wrong with her and she would be able to see that too if she wasn’t constantly obsessing over her brother.
W A N T E D  C O N N E C T I O N S
Work buddies
Her brother maybe one day eventually
Friends bc she definitely needs them
Roommate taken by hedwig blackwood
Neighbours 
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darkclouud9 · 9 months
Text
hello I was talking abt episode 159 again
I once mentioned that they basically lived traumatising Choji in ahippuden
i mean, in episode 159, he thinks he lost his father, and then he knew he lost Kakashi, bc he does state, to Tsunade, that, from Choza, Kakashi, himself, and two others, that he believed he was the only survivor of them (when in actuality it was only him and his dad, Choza was jus unconscious)
but I just thought about it in a whole new light
because Tssunade always loses her loved ones in short bursts.
she lost Dan and Nawaki IN THE SAME YEAR.
when she was only 24.
and then again, the same thing happens at 55
she lost Jiraiya to Pein, and then when Pein eventually attacked the whole village, she then loses both, Kakashi AND Shizune, which, arguably, are both like adoptive nephew/niece to her. and we see how she reacts to Kakashi's death, and Jiraiya leaving the village.
she punches one of the pillars off of the hokage tower when Katsuyu tells her Kakashi died. Kakashi was one of the last, if not THE last, person Katsuyu found (because I believe around this time, Katsuyu says she's found everyone in the village and is aware of their conditions)
I feel so bad for Tsunade all the dang time. she has a life similar (absolutely not comparing them) to Kakashi's, in which she loses everyone she ever loved. she loses Dan and Nawaki, then takes Shizune and herself away from the village.
she loses Orochimaru to darkness, and then 30 odd years later, he "dies", and then Jiraiya, and then Kakashi and Shizune in the same day. and then not long after that, the 4th war. where she gets to see her grandfather, who died around the time she was four. oh and her granduncle. and the guy who fought and is gay for her grandfather.
Dan gets reanimated during the war too, though they unfortunately never see each other. Choza does. he and Dan have a good talk or something.
Tsunade and Kakashi are even similar in their "best friend died but came back evil/ler than before"
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tears0fsatan · 2 years
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hey hey it's me again~ sorry for disappearing, things have been so hectic lately and now it's somehow the last week of school for me lol. also i got into twisted wonderland recently and im already hooked help
anyways how have you been dondon??
-🔶
WOW ARE U A FUCKING PSYCHIC I WAS DEADASS ABOUT TO UPDATE YALL DAMN
but darling please don't apologise for sumn as trivial as that!! hopefully with school over you have time to sit back and relax before it all starts again AHAH
good job getting through school hon, i'm sure it wasn't easy but you did it!
FUCKK YES TWST GANG!!! ITS SO ENTERTAINING AND INTERESTING!!! the storyline is *chefs kiss* and the character designs and the live2d in the game are GORGEOUS ‼️ ANW WHOS UR FAVOURITE SO FARR????? is it epel 🤨 I HOPE UR ENJOYING IT!!!
gnna add this here bc it gets a lil personal nd im sure some people don't care for that aspect of my blog lolol
let's jus day life's been a real doozy.
my aunt became critically ill so the past couple of days everyones been on edge since the doctors said that we should prepare for the worst. my mum was up in arms about it bc it was the exact same thing they said before my grandpa passed.
but surprise!!! her condition improved today! which felt like a huge relief. now i just gotta worry about my dads health sighhh
i was prepping to open commissions to help my family pay for the bills of everything but now that she's stable i'm gonna wait until i finish my event submissions lolol i even made posters for em n everythin man </33
also i cut my foot on a screw in the pool the day the pool cleaner added more chlorine i have never felt a stronger urge to swan dive off the nearest skyscraper
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harryforvogue · 3 years
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No no wait bc imagine in Mia and Harry’s dom/sub days if Mia was feeling sick but they had plans to see each other and it had been a while so she felt really bad canceling plus she also just really wanted to see him because she missed him. And she was just planing to tough it out but when she got there she felt worse then before and he could tell something was up so eventually she told him she didn’t feel good and he’d be all “you were really gonna let me fuck you while you’re damn near on your death bed” ….do you think he would take care of her?🥺
YES!!! HE WOULD TAKE CARE OF HER!!!
***
Harry's condition with Mia's health is the same as his condition with her studies. They always come before her relationship with him, and this is something he's spoken to her about multiple times. So when she doesn't listen to him and she's coughing up a storm after they've come back from dinner, Harry does have the right to be a little upset.
"I'm not upset at you for being sick," he says when he can clearly see that's what she's thinking. He's stepped away from her, and she's unsure if he's just that mad or he's avoiding her germs. "I'm upset that you didn't consider telling me that you're sick. Am I just supposed to read your mind?"
"No," Mia answers, crossing her arms. "Can you come back to bed? I don't have the plague, you know?"
"Even if you had the plague, you wouldn't tell me."
She thinks about this for a moment. "Yeah, you're right about that. It's just a little cold. Plus, I've got allergies. It's not that serious."
Harry shakes his head and finally sits back down besides her (though he's still keeping quite a distance, she bitterly realizes). "This thing we have," he starts, and Mia knows she's in for it, "relies on communication and you need to tell me when you're not feeling well, because you can't let me assume you're fine. I don't think it's fair that I wasn't told of your cold and decided to take you out for dinner."
She knows what he's talking about. The weather's becoming cooler, dipping into the 50s, and that mixed with the dress she decides to go for just makes Harry even more irritated at her choices.
Mia wraps her arms around herself. "But I haven't seen you in a while and you're only here for a few more days, sir."
Harry sighs and then bends down to grab her ankle and put it in his lap. He works on the buckle of her heel, letting the shoe fall and then doing the same to the other.
"And," Mia says, reaching over and holding onto his blazer's collar, running her thumb over his soft jaw, "my master plan was to get you sick so you can't leave either." She's smiling wide at him when he glances at her incredulously. "It's a good plan, right?"
Her hand feels slightly warmer than he'd like it to be. Mia's eyes flutter shut when he presses the back of his hand against her cheek. "You're warm."
She's still smiling, but Harry's suddenly noticing the light pink blush on her face. "So are you. Can you take your clothes off?"
"Christ's sake, Amelia."
"What?" she asks innocently. She scoots closer to him and rests her forehead against his shoulder, holding his blazer between her fingers. "Can you blame me? I missed you, sir."
Harry takes a deep breath and slowly wraps an arm around her, using his other hand to lightly scratch her scalp. His annoyance is slowly dissipating, becoming replaced with concern when he hears how labored her breathing is.
"You've got to get in bed," he says, his voice now quiet as if not to startle her. "The quicker you get better, the quicker we can have some fun before I leave."
He feels her shake her head against shoulder. "We're just wasting time then."
"Amelia, I always come back."
Her grip on him tightens. "I know. But it's been so long."
Harry opens his mouth to mention that she's gone longer without seeing him and she survived, but he realizes nothing like that will satisfy her.
She's not going to listen to him, so he'll just do it for her. Gently, he holds her shoulders and tugs her away from him, just far enough to be able to look down at her face.
"Did you take medicine?"
"No."
Lord give him the strength to deal with this woman. "And why not?"
"Because I don't have the non-drowsy kind. If I take it, I'll fall asleep."
Perfect. He stands up and helps her sit against the headboard, gesturing to her knees. "Pull them to your chest."
"No," she says, suddenly tired, but doing it anyways. Harry smiles a bit at that, removing the blanket from under her and pulling it over her body instead. He heads to her bathroom and glances through her medicine cabinet for the cold/flu medicine. When he returns with it, she groans.
"I said no," she insists, but Harry still carefully pours the thick red liquid into the medicine cup. "Can you give me water at least, sir? Since you're so keen on torturing me?"
No matter how sick she is, Mia will not change. So he gets up and gets her a bottle of water from the fridge and returns with it, sitting besides her again.
He holds the disposable cup to her mouth and carefully places his other hand under her chin. "All of it," he tells her strictly. "Not a single drop left."
"This counts as cruel and unusual punishment, by the way."
"Just drink it. Christ, you never shut up, do you?"
Mia tilts her head back and laughs softly. "I would never shut up."
Her eyebrows furrow when she swallows the medicine, eyes shut tightly. Her hand is tightly holding Harry's shirt and she shudders, pushing the cup away once she's done. "Fuck." He bites back a smile at her dramatics and holds the bottle of water to her lips instead. She drinks nearly half the bottle before pushing it away as well. "Fuck!" she says again.
"That wasn't so bad," he says pleasantly, getting up to rinse the cup and tuck the medicine back into its cabinet.
"You should take some too, then," she shoots back, tucking her blanket under her chin. "Or...at least come here and sit with me, sir."
Harry can do the second thing. He removes his suit coat and shoes, turning the lights off, before slipping into the bed besides her. She immediately slides closer to him, taking his hand and putting it in her lap.
"You're getting warmer," he says quietly when she tucks her head against his neck.
Mia's shoulders tremble as she laughs before breaking into a fit of coughs. "Are you saying," she whispers when she's done, "that I'm hot?"
"Fuck's sake. Just go to sleep."
She's still laughing silently to herself. When she can't keep her head up any longer, Harry slides his arm around her and pulls her over his lap, letting her head rest on his thighs. She's still cold, it seems, judging by the way she tugs her knees up to her chest immediately. He passes his fingers through her hair, adjusting the blanket every few seconds.
"I'm getting my germs all over you," she whispers, barely audible through her heavy breathing.
Harry glances down at her, tucking her hair behind her ear. "That's alright," he answers quietly.
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pinkseas · 2 years
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okay. tinarose au rambling under the read more thsi goes out to bella and soap and also smara just bc i love smara and i saw her in my notes. ANYWAYS. open at your own risk
okay legal disclaimer this is a WRECK just IGNORE HOW MESSY IT IS !!!!!!!
im gonna. try to keep it brief.
soulmate&reincarnation au that was the Goal thats what im going for
magic is present in the world, especially in stories, but isnt widely known about or accepted in general. those who do possess it know to keep to themselves
soulmates are not chosen by fate. the souls either become that strongly connected as they find each other throughout different lives, or magic users choose to bind themselves to another for eternity.
tina and hannah are soulbound. when separated they’re functionally immortal, and when together they age together and reincarnate. beforehand, hannah was fully immortal and tina reincarnated, this is just how their souls settled together when they made the choice to bind to one another
karlnapity are a weird amalgamation of soulmates by chance and soulbound. i havent figured them out quite yet i just Know This. quacknap used to reincarnate together but now have EXTREMELY elongated lifespans, and karl is a time traveler who is functionally immortal
i may actually change this in the future to make all of them immortal in some way and change myself the trouble of figuring out how it works together but Who Knows
hannah and tina know each other for SO fucking long and actually decide to get married at somepoint! they put a bit of their magic in the rings, keeping them in perfect condition, and when they grow old together they have a special box they keep the rings in to come back to and collect again after they’ve reincarnated and found each other again.
this is where things get Real Spotty.
the egg exists. quackity, tina, and karl escape its grasp. just about any other magic user falls victim in some way or another. nobody knows where it came from, how it spread so fast, or how to defeat it- only that it plans on consuming their world. it picks out magic users specifically, brings them together to drain off of their power
tina, karl, and quackity fight. it does not go well. even when they manage to free people from the eggs grasp, those people are hurt and drained of power. they have no actual plan, no real defense, and theyre losing
hannah is kept at the heart. her magic is the strongest in the eggs eye, being corrupted instead of drained, because with such a strong connection to nature it can use her power specifically to corrupt and destroy the rest. she cant just fuel it, she can amplify anything it tries to do
tina is hannah’s strongest connection to the world outside of the egg. it wants her to kill tina. anyone who tries to intervene is trapped, dragged down by vines and thorns, forced to watch. hannah is able to use the eggs power, too, draining tinas magic from her bit by bit, taking power from the egg for the fight. everyone can feel themselves getting weaker as hannah stands stronger, and stronger, and stronger.
tina goes down. everyone else is trapped, half dead on the ground, witnessing their own demise, the loss of all hope.
hannah stands before them all without a single weapon. the vines tighten around tina, around everyone- the ground rumbles and the egg, looming high above them, begins to tremble.
its a struggle. they can all see that. the vines tighten and loosen again and again, never enough for anyone to tear themselves away. they bloom at hannahs feet, thorns crawling up her legs, veins red and eyes red as they force her to her knees. the egg begins to rot. the ground around them begins to rot.
tina has the front seat, eyes never leaving hannahs, hannahs never leaving her. the vines around everyone wither and rot. the egg screams, and withers, and rots. and hannah rots with it. the vines wrap around her neck, spores blooming across her skin. tina swears that hannah’s eyes glow green for just a moment before she’s gone, her body and the vines around them all and the egg itself crumbling to dust. everyone is in a daze- not all of them fully remember. all they know is that hannah takes the egg down, and the egg takes her with it.
where hannah falls, life blooms. the grass turns green, slowly, at first, then spreading rapidly, wildflowers blooming all around them, covering every inch of land corrupted and drained by the egg, until there’s not a single sign of it left. its quiet. its peaceful. their wounds dont go away, not entirely, but the bleeding stops, the aching fades. none of them can feel the egg anymore.
(hannahs ring falls. tina picks it carefully up off the grass, puts it in her pocket. its perfect. its pristine. for centuries, hannah will be gone, and the others will mourn and move on, and tina will keep the ring. a piece of hannahs magic, a piece of hannahs soul. and tina will never give up, will never stop waiting, will never stop knowing that hannah is alive somewhere. not with that ring around her neck.)
hannah rests. she had drawn power from the egg, had drawn power from tina and the others to make herself strong enough to defeat it, but she’d drained herself almost completely. she is not quite conscious. she is not quiet aware. but she exists, in every tree and petal and blade of grass, she feels peace with every rainfall, warmth from the light of the sun. and when she wakes, centuries later, a child with a family and no knowledge of who she once was, her first memories will be of that peace, that warmth.
there is a longing she feels all her life. she cannot ignore it. she asks friends, she asks family, she asks anyone who she trusts to listen. they feel lonely, sometimes- its part of being human. but hannah isnt sure that shes lonely. all she knows is that something is missing.
when she waves a hand, the flowers move with it. her injuries heal faster than anyone elses. she swears she can feel the earth around her, alive and breathing, in a way that no one else can. something deep inside of her knows to keep this a secret.
she cant be certain of anything, not really. but her parents grow, and her family grows, and she turns 30, 40, 50, and looks the same. she tells her parents everything, late in their lives, and they smile and they tell her how proud they are and that they hope she can find what shes looking for.
something is missing. shes yearning for something, longing for something, theres an ache in her chest and a restlessness in her fingertips and she travels for decades trying to quell it. nothing works. but one day she finds a small town, quiet and secluded, one she swears she’d never heard of in passing or seen on any maps.
theyre magic. it takes her a few weeks to realize, but everyone performs small feats on the daily, openly and freely in front of each other. the entire town is magic, and only those possessing it are able to find it. which explains why they’re so open, she supposes, and why it feels so safe. there’s still an itching in her fingertips, still an aching in her heart, but there are people here like her, people she can know, can learn from.
she and tina become fast friends. where karl is always somewhere or another, flitting in and out of their time, documenting the past and future alike, tina is still and steady as an anchor, rooted deeply in the present. they have a library together, where karl keeps his documents and tina keeps hers. journals and diaries of her life, of what she experiences, some personal and some made for others. hannah learns a lot about the history of magic, here, about what the others have done in their lifetimes protecting the rest of the world. she skims through books, listening intently as tina weaves the stories together. karl is the storyteller, everyone else tells her, but his words sometimes go right through her head where she swears she could listen to tina for hours.
she learns about newer versus older magic users, that many of them live for centuries or reincarnate, that shes one of the rare newer ones. she swears she knows the town by heart, even though shes never been there before. the flowers feel like theyre calling her home. the others give her strange looks, sometimes, like theyre seeing something else in her place.
eventually she learns about the egg. that the town was formed after its defeat, around the place their protector fell, that theyve all been close friends since. they all have good stories to tell about the one who saved them, inside jokes and silly anecdotes. none of them can remember her name. something about the magic, something about the way she was taken from them. her face blurs. her name is gone. her memory, though, will always remain.
hannah thinks she should care more. thinks she should wish, should wonder, should want to have met this girl. their magic was similar, from what the others can remember. hannah could have asked. hannah could have learned. but she feels oddly disconnected from it all, like it doesnt matter anymore, like theres nothing left to wish for, nothing left to mourn. she doesnt know what to make of that.
things build, and build, and build. hannah doesnt know for certain when it all adds up.
by the time tina finally kisses her, the ache is gone. hannah is home, tears spill down her cheeks and tina smiles at her, so softly, so gently, and welcomes her back. hannah mourns, doesnt understand how should could have forgotten everyone, how she could have forgotten tina. she missed them. she missed them so fucking much. even when she didnt know. tina tells her that its okay, that it wasnt her fault.
when hannah asks how she can be so calm, tina pulls out the ring. tells hannah that she knew she was out there, somewhere. that she searched and found nothing but knew that one day hannah would be back. shes been waiting ever since, too certain to mourn, too certain to wonder. and the moment hannah entered their town, she knew.
they put the rings back on each other.
i havent figured out how the rest of the town realizes its her again, but they absolutely do. especially want something with her and antfrost just bc i love antfrost. maybe once shes wearing the ring and she and tina are together people realize? karl definitely takes one look at their entwined hands and realizes instantly. theres probably a LITTLE bit more confusion and build with the others but overall i want it to be sweet
idk !! idk just. the fic itself would start with hannah entering the town, everything else would be revealed more slowly. the biggest focus would be the rising something between tina and hannah, like tina knows something hannah doesnt. focusing a lot on the longing and the finding home and the reunion aspects of it all
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saintobio · 3 years
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the lack of gojo pov in ch12 was pretty alarming, considering how little we saw of his reactions in the y/n-centric povs (which cld also b telling of her choosing to focus on herself more, not wanting to give in to him anymore, which wld happen had she paid gojo more attention than necessary), i just KNEW shit was gonna go down for him in this chapter and whatever it would be would hurt, but i was not expecting ANY of this
i like to think that the lack of insight on gojo from y/n was going to be bottled up and explode in this following chapter. i'm all for gojo getting a taste of his own medicine, but this :(
and i can't even bring myself to focus on sera's clownery right now because of how upsetting eula's actions are this chapter. she's so, so evil. nana and yuuta were both innocent bystanders in this, yet she's ruined their lives. the fact that she is actively blackmailing her son into a gag order to save face? how effortlessly she can lie and throw the blame to someone else?
everything aside, i hope mama!jo will help ease gojo's vulnerable condition (which i'm worried sera will take advantage of as if he can't already catch a break). i'm also happy for deus ex caregiver, but we're not out of the woods yet.
everything aside, i want to praise this chapter for how much of a trash fire it was. truly felt like each transition was feeding more fuel to the fire. i could go on forever about eula but my thoughts are jus a mess rn 😭 this was peak family drama. you've outdone yourself saint pls treat yourself
(also, just realized how upset gen will be when she comes back from her trip to cancun 😭 if y/n was that cold to gojo just imagine gen 🥵)
yuuuh i specifically lessened gojo’s pov here bc his thoughts are just depressive. he’s not mentally and emotionally stable rn so the narration would be quite messy :< it might be triggering for some readers
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Draco and reader are co workers and Draco just all shy and nervous around her until he finally has the courage to ask her out on a date
Thanks for the request :)
I made it kinda like The Proposal bc I love that movie, but only with Y/n being the boss or whatever and kind of her attitude
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Boss
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Y/n walked into the office with her phone to her ear and a tablet in her hand. She grabbed a coffee from the hand of an unsuspecting lady walking by. She took a sip and spit it out. "This is not my order, are you that incompetent? You're fired." The lady stared at her in shock. "I'm serious, leave." She sped out the door with tears in her eyes. Y/n rolled her eyes and walked into her office. Draco followed after her with her coffee and a report of what need to happen throughout the day.
"Hello Miss Y/l/n." Y/n hummed. "Hi, put the report over on my desk, you know where, and put the coffee in my hand. When you're done, get out of my office and my sight." Draco nodded silently and did as asked before walking out of the office and to his desk. He sighed and look at the door to his boss's office.
"Dude. You need to stop staring." Blaise's voice brought him back to reality. "You know she doesn't like you, just stop trying." He rolled his eyes and walked to get water, Draco followed after. "But like, how do I know that cor sure?" Blaise sighed and gave Draco a pointed look. "It's pretty obvious." "Ok well 'pretty obvious' isn't a definite no. I've still got a shot." Draco tried hopefully. Blaise shook his head in amusement. "Whatever you say, bud." He patted his back as he walked away, leaving Draco in thought. "I have to at least try." He huffed to himself and walked to Y/n's door.
He knocked quietly on the door before opening it. "Umm, Miss Y/l/n?" He asked as he walked in. Y/n's head shot up from her hands and she quickly wiped her face to look presentable. "What is it?" Her voice was slightly hoarse and broken. "I, uh, I was wondering if I could speak to you later. I mean I know how you don't like anything that isn't scheduled, so I thought if I asked ahead of time..." Y/n cleared her throat. "Well I don't have anything scheduled for the next five minutes so you can talk now." Draco's eyes widened. "Oh, I jus- ok..." He sat down and patted his thighs before speaking.
"What I wanted to ask was, um.. if you-" "Before you continue, I want to make something clear. If you're going to ask for a promotion, you are at the highest point you can be at right now. If you are going to ask for a raise I do not have the resources at this time. And if you are going to ask for an early bonus, again, I do not have the resources at this time." She closed her hands together as she finished talking. "Uh actually I was gonna ask if you.. maybe... wanted to go to dinner with me..?" He avoided her eyes as a tense silence fell over them.
Y/n sighed. "That is a highly inappropriate thing you ask of from me." Draco sighed and stood up. "Alright. I'll get back to work then..." He started walking to the door when Y/n stopped him. "But, I think I may be able to make an exception this once." Draco let a small smile form on his face. "Thank you, you won't regret it-" "On one condition..." Y/n paused fro a moment (dramatic pause). "I get to pick the restaurant." Draco let out a sigh and nodded. "Alright now go put that on my calendar for this Saturday." Draco let out a huff if laughter. "What? You said it yourself, I things scheduled. Now go do your job." She said with a smile. The first smile that's reached her eyes in years.
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I hope this was good :)
Please request a blurb or something :))))))
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enderspawn · 3 years
Text
dream smp asagao au, aka the very specific high school au
also aka the post thats very self indulgent for me and maybe 3 other people.
in short: its a dsmp high school au based on the game asagao academy, where everyone is part of a gaming club and compete against one another in tournaments. more in depth info about the AU/Asagao itself, as well as more info about the plot and roles of the AU itself.
Asagao Academy Basics
So to start, let’s cover the basics: what is Asagao Academy. ….well, an old Youtuber dating sim game (which, despite unfortunately including some fairly questionable CCs, IS still really good and well written and I recommend it) But what is it for AU purposes?
Asagao Academy is a highly elite world-wide boarding school set in Japan for those who are either rich enough to afford it, or those skilled enough to get scholarships. Within the game, there are two main clubs: Normal Boots and Hidden Block. They’re both gaming clubs, and joining is seen as super exclusive since they’re ALSO the most popular people in the school.
The two clubs compete with each other in various tournament events with specific categories. For example: Satch (from NB) and Jimmy (from HB) both compete in the “Tech and Invention” category, where they have to create/invent something related to gaming and have it judged at the event like a science fair. Meanwhile, Jared (from NB) and Wallid (from HB) both compete in “Dance” aka DDR and the person with the highest score wins.
The other categories featured in game include: Puzzle games (like Bejeweled or Tetris), Video Game Trivia, Pinball, Retro Platformers, a three-person fighting game, and 100% completion speedruns. So tldr; the categories can be kind of fiddled with and be whatever you want them to be, because even the original ones are pretty wack.
Also, there’s no rules against competing in multiple categories— in fact, most of the HB members in game do! It’s more about balancing time and practicing for them alongside school and other activities.
The winner of the competition is the team/competitor(s) with the most total wins.
Another thing to note: despite competing as clubs, they’re all actually pretty good friends. It’s all lighthearted and fun in the end, hell the leader of the opposing club even helps the main character join the main club just because he wants a decent challenge.
Speaking of… the main character! Hana Mizuno! I don’t have any current plans to include her in this AU (a la new dating routes), but I wanted to mention her for a few reasons.
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For the main reason: her hair. Even as soon as she shows up, Mai (her best friend and roommate, who can break the 4th wall) immediately calls her out for her hair for looking like a main character which as we learn… isn’t an exaggeration. She’s literally a born protagonist, thus being born with naturally pink hair and a tragic backstory. Not only that, but other people are also born protagonists with pink hair as well— she isn’t an exception.
About the AU -- Revolution Era
A few things to note: in this au, when I first drafted it I… wasn’t looking to include 20+ people. I cut a lot of characters, but instead working with the idea that they’re still THERE, they just… don’t compete? Either they aren’t in the club and are just friends with the members, or they’re members who just don’t compete professionally. It’s nothing personal against those CCs and tbh as times goes they may get added more, but for now they’re just in the BG vibin.
It covers a really basic retelling of s1 for most of the planned au. It starts with One Club: the Dream Team. Members include: Dream (sophomore), Sapnap (sophomore), George (junior), Wilbur (junior), Eret (junior), and Fundy (freshman).
For reasons, possibly just as a goof or spite towards their American counterparts, Wilbur declares independence from the Dream Team and makes his OWN gaming club: L’Manberg. He takes Eret (a close friend from his grade) and Fundy (the freshman he immediately adopted) with him, causing the two teams to be 3v3.
But Wilbur’s got a dastardly surprise up his sleeve: TOMMY, HIS YOUNGER BROTHER (bc I am nothing if not a dedicated crimebros stan), AND TUBBO. They’re both too young to actually attend Asagao yet, but theres no age rules in the actual competitions so its fair play. They’re Wilbur’s secret weapon. After all, a 5v3 where the team with the most wins wins the competition? That’s a massive advantage.
… we all know how this goes though don’t we. Wilbur’s day be so fine, then BOOM, Eret betrayal 😔
In this case Eret feels it’s a LITTLE unfair to blindside them like that, plus Dream promised to make him the Leader of the Dream Team and, yknow, that kind of stuff DOES look good on resumes, so…
TLDR; Eret rejoins the Dream Team crew, as well as informing them of Wilbur’s plan with including Tommy and Tubbo and becomes leader. They’re still letting Dream and Co. basically actually do the leading, they don’t care that much, the title is just nice. L’Manberg cusses her out and promises to hold a grudge, but it’s all in good fun. After all, they’re just teens goofing around and playing. The clubs are again 4v4.
Dream tells the L’Manberg club that they can separate, sure… under one condition. They have to win the competition. If they lose, they have to rejoin the Dream Team club.
L’Manberg accepts, but come competition day… they lose. Tommy outright challenges Dream post awards to a speedrun competition for L’Manberg instead. …which Dream professionally competes in, and Tommy DOESN’T.
He loses, but he puts up a good fight despite having little to no actual practice put in, so Dream “grants” L’Manberg their “Independence”. (In this au, instead of being like… weirdly obsessive over Tommy, it’s a lot more “he sees himself in Tommy and wants to support/mentor him” and a “friendly rivalry” kind of deal bc its a damn HIGH SCHOOL AU)
So L’Manberg can be it’s own club! …Next year, when Tommy and Tubbo actually attend, since Wilbur and Fundy aren’t allowed a two person club.
About the AU -- Election Era
SO time skip! Congrats, everything up to now has been BACKSTORY. It’s now the next school year, with two main clubs (I’ve tried to keep them fairly balanced, which is why not all CCs are featured, sorry!)
Dream Team club:
Dream - junior
George - senior
Sapnap - junior
Eret - senior
Punz - junior
BBH - senior
Awesamdude - junior
Ponk - junior
L’Manberg club:
Wilbur - senior
Tommy - freshman
Tubbo - freshman
Fundy - sophomore
Schlatt - senior
Quackity - junior
Niki - sophomore
Jack - sophomore
(Also fun fact! Their grades are loosely based on the CCs actual ages! …Except Fundy, who got Baby-fied to fit the “Wilbur’s Kid” joke, and Eret bc it fit better to be the same age as Wilbur I thought. Oops HEKANDNSN)
So, for whatever Reason (listen this was an au I made in like one night when plagued with brainrot, it’s not all figured out), L’Manberg holds an election. Maybe it’s related to Wilbur wanting L’Manberg to be meaningfully different from Dream Team, maybe it’s a joke, idk!
…. SOMEHOW, Schlatt wins. Which ticks off Wilbur a lot. It’s his damn club, and the whole point was to avoid Americans, tf?? The two start to feud a lot and it threatens to split the club entirely via ppl taking sides. Worse, it means people aren’t practicing for the competition.
All while this is happening, there’s a new intrigue building. Dream catches word of an infamous player in the area, someone known to win entire competitions against teams of people all by HIMSELF. A man with bright bubblegum pink hair called Technoblade. That’s right, literal universe-assigned protagonist Techno. If Dream could enlist him, there’s no doubt in hell they’d be able to beat L’Manberg.
L’Manberg hears of him too and works to try and enlist him as well, so he basically gets courted by both clubs trying to get him to play for them to mixed results. He’s pretty chill vibin by himself, so what’s in it for him? (….I don’t know, remember how this is a WIP au I worked on once?)
Eventually, a teacher named Phil (who’s been the honorary sponsor of the L’Manberg club) gets pissed at Schlatt and Wilbur’s fighting and bans both from competing (aka this AUs version of them dying). Which fucking SUCKS for L’Manberg. They’re now going 6v8 with a wildcard player who’s undeclared on which side he’ll join, if at all.
… honestly, that’s as far as I got. Theoretically, Techno joins L’Manberg to reflect Pogtopia and they win. I never had plans to go into s2 due to its darker theme, but there are definitely changes that could (and might?) be made for the s1 plot just so it flows better.
I already had to shift Wil and Schkatt’s “deaths” to fit, unless I were to have them LITERALLY make a new club. Maybe Schlatt uses his power as Club President to make them work with Dream Team (to the point it basically merges the clubs). Sure, they might be guaranteed to win now but it removes the competition and fun as well as the spirit of OG L’Manberg. So then Wilbur rebels and makes his own club AGAIN, calling it Pogtopia with the intent to get L’Manberg back. Then Techno, intrigued with this group of like 2-3 ppl going against a team of like 13ish people, decides to join them. Idk! Alternative possible plot based more closely on s1 I guess!
I’m gonna add a list of characters in full with their age, their club, and what they compete in (if it’s already brainstormed, most ppl are unknown) below
Character List
dream (DT) - junior - speedrunning
george (DT) - senior - coding/tech and invention
sapnap (DT)- junior -
eret (DT) - senior -
wilbur (LM) - senior - rhythm game/guitar hero-esque
tommy (LM) - freshman - (possibly pick up speed running during election arc?)
tubbo (LM) - freshman - chess
fundy (LM) - sophomore - coding/tech and invention
schlatt (LM) - senior - he never actually declares what he plans to play and then gets banned anyway, aka no game kekw
quackity (LM)- junior - dance
niki (LM) - sophomore -
jack (LM) - sophomore-
punz (DT) - junior -
bbh (DT) - senior -
awesamdude (DT) - junior -
ponk (DT) - junior
technoblade (SOLO) - junior - multiple categories
FINAL BIT
here’s some scraps for ppl who know Asagao already as well as small bits I didn’t bother to write up any further
- Karl, much like Mai, is ALSO aware of the 4th wall and has time travel powers because of it.
- Purpled (undecided if he’s a solo player like Techno or has his own team he competes with that’s not a formal club) plays Literally Bedwars in competitions
- Callahan is the Dream Team club sponsor, Phil is L’Manberg’s club sponsor
- Karlnapity is real and canon bc I say so
- both for balance/laziness, every person only competes in one category. also bc it makes Techno that much more Protagonist-y that he does
- I made this AU in like February man idk I’m just vibin
- Fuck I never even included Ranboo huh
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timextoxhajima · 3 years
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been a while since ive started to read p&d, im neither team juyeon or hyunjae. no matter the endgame, i’d accept it but actually ive had this thought for a few chapters now—im just not fond of hyunjae always being shown as pathetic/pitiful. his actions are always somehow equated to him being a jerk, he’s always being criticized, and sometimes for literally nothing. im not expecting you, as a writer, to deviate from your planned story just to cater to my unprompted opinions but EVERY chapter, i just cant help but say, “when will hyunjae catch a break?” haha. it’s sad to see his character downgrade almost to the point of being unlovable, i dont think he deserves it. juyeon, too, i wish he wasnt so perfect. and i mean this in the best way possible. his character makes me uncomfy because he just loves and accepts and understands practically everything on repeat. it’s unhealthy. like get mad or upset once in a while, talk some sense to seol eun or tell her straight up hyunjae is a bother. a relationship never straying from what’s comfortable or perfect wont last. anw overall feeling after the latest chapter would be, (1) seol eun and juyeon should just get married alr, (2) i just want hyunjae to move on, leave seol eun behind, if that means he’ll finally get happiness
THIS WAS SUCH A LONG ASK TO READ AT 7.30AM KSKDFKS
honestly, i agree with everything you said. jae is only seen like this because of seol eun's condition and the way he treats her bc of his ex gf. ju is loving and so kind bc the fic IS written in seol eun's pov. she wants him to be perfect, so even if he did have any pt where he's not, seol eun would probably ignore it.
1) no they will not get married, i promise you
2) you'll find out about this later, dont wanna spoil it for you <3
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potteresque-ire · 4 years
Text
Is Cho Chang a Racist Stereotype? - [2] Her House
Another very long post (this time Confucius comes to say hello). My thoughts are under the cut.
Once again, this isn’t a JKR discussion. This is my 2nd post on whether I think it’s fair to call Cho Chang a racist stereotype. The 1st one is here.
My short answer is still no.
Another critique I’ve seen of Cho Chang’s portrayal is that she was a Ravenclaw, which fit into the “smart Asian” stereotype.
But what, exactly, is “Ravenclaw smart” and “Asian smart”? I think it’s worth investigating. Intelligence comes in many forms, and the allegation would only be valid if the two kinds of “smart” are equivalent.
Here’s what the books and JKR, via Pottermore, have said about “Ravenclaw smart”:
“if you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind;”
“Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.”
“…our people are the most individual – some might even call them eccentrics. But geniuses are often out of step with ordinary folk…” 
"Most of the greatest wizarding inventors and innovators were in our house…”
The day-to-day illustration of “Ravenclaw smart” was the answering of riddles to enter the common room. A good answer was “well-reasoned”, and it was known that the door would refuse to open until such an answer was provided, which sometimes led to long discussions outside the common room by the locked-out students. Another manifestation of “Ravenclaw smart” was described as going “full-nerd” on a subject that wasn’t necessarily practical or popular (ovomancy was the example given on Pottermore).
Since “wit” was such a heavily used word in Ravenclaw’s description, I looked up its definition as well.
* Intelligence and the ability to think quickly (Cambridge dictionary) * Mental sharpness and inventiveness; keen intelligence; a natural aptitude for using words and ideas in a quick and inventive way to create humour (Google) * The ability to relate seemingly disparate things so as to illuminate or amuse (Merriam Webster) * Wit is the ability to use words or ideas in an amusing, clever, and imaginative way. (Collins)
My understanding of “Ravenclaw smart” from this info is: the ability to connect dots freely and nimbly. Social norms and expectations are noted, but happily disregarded if they get in the way. “Ravenclaw smart” is by nature argumentative and open-ended. It expects the dot-connecting to lead to places, but doesn’t have a specific place in mind; all endpoints are valid and welcomed as long as they’re logically sound. The strength of “Ravenclaw smart” is it leads to revolutionary innovations; its tendency to unbridle itself from social needs and expectations, however, can lead to amoral/immoral behaviour (Lockhart). The wisdom from “Ravenclaw smart” is also in danger of being ignored or misunderstood when its owner makes insufficient effort to make it comprehensible, or accessible to others (Luna, and likely, Rowena Ravenclaw.)
Those who’ve studied under an East Asian education system (especially in the 90s), or those who’re familiar with those systems, probably know by now where this discussion is leading to.
“Ravenclaw smart” isn’t “Asian smart”. It’s … about the opposite of Asian smart.
What is “Asian smart”? Outside this discussion, any kind of intelligence. But here, I’ll restrict it to the kind of smartness that leads to the racist allegation, the kind of Westerners typically associate with East Asian students (such as Cho Chang, who, for the sake of simplicity, I’ll assume is Chinese from this point on; however, the arguments will likely still stand if she was, for example, Korean, for reasons that will be clear later on). The kind of smartness that is good at math, that gets the highest scores in exams and seems to understand everything. Never asks questions, never makes trouble.
"Asian smart” sounds great. But what if I suggest the following “dark sides” to it?
1) Good at math: with practice, lower level maths are likely to require the least reasoning among school subjects, with their unambiguous, close-ended answers. A child who has done 7x9 enough times no longer need to calculate or think through the logic of their answer. They write down what they’ve memorised by repetition — 63 — and get full score.
2) High scorer: does everything as told. Prioritise the wishes of authority (teachers, parents) above everything else.
3) Seems to understand everything, never asks questions: views knowledge as “model answers” to be regurgitated in exams. Whether it makes sense doesn’t matter.
These are very cynical takes, aren’t they? I’ve cast in these students in a very negative light.
But what if this negative light isn’t negative at all if these students have stayed in the land of their ancestors? What if these “cynical takes” were considered virtues for the budding Chinese scholars of old?
What if “Asian smart” is purely a consequence of history and culture?
First of all, if you ask “Asian smart” students and they’re honest with you, most would tell you that their smartness isn’t the product of miracles or extra brain juice. Some would say it’s not even intelligence. It is the direct result of extra hours spent at the desk.
What is their motivation? Are Chinese children simply born to be extra hardworking?
Perhaps it’s their so-called “tiger moms”? If then, are Chinese moms born more … feline?
The answers, as you may expect, are no, Chinese aren’t born any different from other races. Their drive to study can largely be explained by an ancient, nation-wide exam system known as the imperial examination system (Ke-Ju, 科舉), plus a dude with a name of Confucius.
Many are aware that Chinese have long considered scholastic aptitude as important. But how long is long? The answer: 1.4 millennia. The imperial examination system, or Ke-Ju, began in 605 AD and while the system had evolved over time, the gist of it was this: students participated in locals exams and the “winners” moved up to the county, then provincial levels etc, until the students who’d won all previous exams sat for the final one in the capital palace, at times proctored by the Emperor, where the grand winners would be decided. The Ke-Ju system was essential in shaping Chinese’s attitude towards academic achievements, because the final top 3 winners, regardless of birth, would be hired by the Imperial Court (+ in some cases, get to marry a princess!).
Ancient Chinese studied and studied and studied for that reason; Ke-Ju was one of the very few social ladders available to commoners, who mostly lived in poverty. The Chinese folklore-scape has therefore been filled with “inspirational” stories about how people overcame exceptionally challenging studying conditions (like this one) to become successful in some way.
How, exactly, does Ke-Ju shape the traditional Chinese view towards studying and education?
1) Historically, Chinese views studying as a means to a better life. The pursuit of knowledge was secondary. The modern analogy to studying hard in ancient China is working three part-time jobs to pay the mortgage for a house, and there is, in fact, a famous Chinese idiom that reflects this: 書中自有黃金屋 (“In the books, there is a golden house”). According to the poem (勸學詩) where the idiom came from (written by an Emperor, by the way: 宋真宗, ~ 1000 BCE), other things found in books included high wages paid in food, beauties, chariots and horses. All practical stuff.
2) Because of 1), getting high scores, or “winning” the exams, was seen as the paramount goal of studying. Far less emphasis was put on understanding the exam material. The teachers of ancient Chinese schools (私塾) were known for doing little explaining; instead, they made recite passages and expected them to figure out the meanings by themselves later. The attitude that scores are everything was further fuelled by the fact that the Emperor had the final say on the result of Ke-Ju — the Emperor who’d most probably claimed the throne by genetics and was not always the most intelligent or knowledgable. While the ability to formulate well-researched and well-reasoned answers helped tremendously, the most important skill for the final Ke-Ju winner was, therefore, the ability to guess what the Emperor wanted to hear, and sometimes, what they wanted to see (there were instances where the Emperor swapped the rankings because they found the original victor too ugly).  
ie. The most important skill was to know the Emperor’s Answer, and to be able to frame it as the winner’s own perspective even if the winner didn’t, in reality, believe in a single word of it.
3) The tradition of having an “Emperor’s Answer” means its modern equivalent, having an “one and only” model answer, have remained the norm in education systems in many Chinese-speaking communities. Many educators have asked for reforms, argued that model answers discourage independent thinking and creativity, but teachers have also been trained on model answers and they’re often unsure of their own opinions, and at times, fearful that they’ll pass on a “wrong” perspective to their students. The latter is especially true in places under authoritarian rule, where school lessons must follow closely the regime’s propaganda (which can be vastly different from year to year).
You may wonder then: but certainly, the students would revolt. How could children learn in such a stifling environment for so long?
This is where Confucius (孔丘, 551-478 BC) comes in. The education system is only a slice of a culture where authority is not to be questioned, where silence is seen as a virtue even among the youngest of children.
Many may know Confucius to be a philosopher, but he was also a political advisor and not a very popular one. I’ve half-jokingly summed up his slogan as “Make China Great Again”, as he lamented his era for having lost the social etiquette and order of several centuries before, and he was set on bringing them back. He researched on rites and rituals that were already old for his time, postulating that every detail of how people behaved around each other would affect social harmony. Social order, he believed, could be achieved by people respecting and obeying their elders, not only in their thoughts but also in their day-to-day behaviour, which was to be bound with a set of intricate rules that dictated their word choices, actions and even postures according to the situation and kinship between the interacting individuals (a fun video here showing a Confucian rite, including the sheer variety of Confucian bows). The elders would, in return, take care of those with less authority than they had, share with them their wisdom.
Confucius also believed that harmony of the world could be achieved by self-discipline from the base level of the society to the top. In this “discipline pyramid”, individuals sat at the bottom. The discipline of families came above it, in which elder generations of each family reined in the rebellious younger ones, made each family a true unit where its members were unified in thoughts and actions. The nation (government) then exerted its authority on families and cured their conflicts — to drive this point home, the term 父母官 has remained in use in China today, which likens the government officials (官) to parents (父母) and constituents to children who should listen to their parents (imagine someone likening Boris Johnson, or Donald Trump, as your father). Finally, the world, with the Emperor as its ruler, smothers the insurgences among nations to achieve the ultimate order and harmony. (修身、齊家、治國、平天下).
Confucius did put a big asterisk in his theory. For this “discipline pyramid” to work, the asterisk said, the Emperor who’d establish the final world order must be a good one. The problem was: most Emperors thought they were pretty good. Confucius’ philosophy appealed to them because the Emperor sat at the pinnacle of this power structure, and as each level ruled over the one below, the lowest level — the individual commoners — had so many constraints piled on them that their individuality was stripped. This made governing much easier.
And so, while Confucius’ political theories were not particularly popular during his lifetime, Confucianism became the official school of philosophy for Chinese imperial courts after ~100 BC. China’s immense power in the ancient world meant Confucianism also became the prominent school of philosophy in its sphere of influence, which included, among others, the modern nations of Japan, S. Korea and Vietnam, all of which also held their own versions of Ke-Ju.
(Hence, this post would very likely remain valid if Cho Chang was Korean.)
In addition to locating talents among commoners, the Ke-Ju system further cemented Confucianism as the “proper” school of thought because it required the students to learn Confucian texts. These students, who would also become disseminators of knowledge outside the Imperial Court, would bring Confucianism to the commoners who’d practise it as well, as a display of cultured upbringing, in the hopes that their descendants would one day know it well enough to enter the Imperial Court. The discipline pyramid soon infiltrated every aspect of Chinese culture, and Confucianism became Imperial China’s tool for reinforcing social hierarchy and a social stabilizer. It remained revered in all levels of the Chinese society until, during the Cultural Revolution (1966-76), the Red Guards, with the blessings of Mao Ze-Dong, made an all out-attack on Confucian values and while remnants of them have survived in China’s social fabric, they’re largely in tatters (As a result, the best places to observe the legacy of Confucianism nowadays are in Japan, S. Korea and Taiwan.)
Back to the “Asian smart”. “Asian smart” was an impression built from students who were (children of) recent immigrants from Confucianism-influenced communities. Students who’d been educated in the tradition of those who’d sat in the ancient schools, their backs ramrod straight and spoken only when called, their mouths opening only to satisfy the teachers’ requests because teachers were the authority in the classroom and never to be questioned. Students who’d expected an Emperor’s Answer to every exam question, the answer that was, always, the final word. Students who’d studied hard because golden houses could be found in the books.
This “Asian smart” is as different as can be from “Ravenclaw smart”. Asian smart is quiet and unquestioning, while Ravenclaw smart challenges and argues. Asian smart views knowledge as a servant of society, while Ravenclaw smart sees knowledge, and the pursuit thereof, as lording over social expectations. Asian smart is about reinforcing social order while Ravenclaw smart is about breaking the mould. Asian smart has groomed the establishment for over a thousand years while Ravenclaw smart has nurtured eccentrics.
Of note, this disparity between the two “smarts” doesn’t mean one is superior to another. Our current pandemic has made a case for Confucian collectivism; individuals in E. Asian countries have shown themselves to be more willing to sacrifice personal freedoms and aesthetics for the sake of their communities, more comfortable at obeying new rules despite the questions of their need have yet be answered satisfactorily by science, and the benefits of these attitudes have been reflected in the case and death counts. The pandemic has also reminded us of the importance of knowledge that serves society (for example, epidemiological research, vaccine development, contact tracing), even if it’s not always the most exciting. Healthcare is a discipline that requires a “no ifs and buts, no matter how well-reasoned” attitude towards certain rules (how to put on and remove PPEs, for example).
Anyway, I digressed! The conclusion I have, after so many words, is this: Cho Chang being assigned Ravenclaw isn’t racist stereotyping, as some have alleged. I can appreciate where the allegation comes from. The common association with intelligence aside, many sorting tests have also tied academic achievements to Ravenclaw, even though Ravenclaws were never described as book smart in the series. But the allegation doesn’t hold up well after an investigation into the way Ravenclaw House was written, and the kind of smartness Cho Chang was expected to have if it was, indeed, race-based.
It doesn’t mean, I’d like to note, that some Asians aren’t being unfairly judged because parts of our society still hold the false impression that our racial group are somehow born to excel in academics or any work where maths are involved. I understand—I truly do—the frustrations of having one’s accomplishments belittled, attributed to a quirk in the DNA that doesn’t exist. I’ve, too, had to certify that my Mom is 100% human, free of the tiger too many times.
But the HP books cannot be blamed for that, and the longer the blame is placed on something that doesn’t deserve it, the longer the focus, and effort is shifted away from the actual problem and its potential solutions. The time and words spent on such “call-outs” can be better spent, I believe, by explaining how the misconception of “smart Asians” can affect real people like you and me.
And like Cho Chang, perhaps, if we love to think about the HP world. If her classmates wondered why she wasn’t the top of her class for her year, why she wasn’t famously book-smart like Hermione Granger to win them some house points. Why did she sign up for Quidditch? Why would any Asian, never mind a tiny, fragile E. Asian girl like her, even think about touching sports? Shouldn’t she be studying? Learning advanced arithmancy even though their OWLS were still a year away?
And Cho would come back to the common room hours later, flushed with sweat and smiling, and announced that she’d made seeker.
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