#sorry i got hit with where did the party go brainrot again

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

AND ALL THE BOYS ARE SMOKING MENTHOLS, GIRLS ARE GETTING BACK RUBS, I WILL DRIFT TO YOU IF YOU MAKE YOURSELF SHAKE FAST ENOUGH. MY OLD ACHES BECOME NEW AGAIN, MY OLD FRIENDS BECOME EXS AGAIN.

[bentosandbox]

So what is Chen doing in Victoria

not a full story summary just some short TLs from chen brainrot sorry

spoilers for What the Firelight Casts ofc

chenpipe run into a ghost squad and chen is like uh wait they're kinda sus, says they remind her of 'something that happened in lungmen'. After defeating a bunch she remarks their opponents have been dead for more than 48 hours (how do you know this???? do you also do forensics in the SI Unit??????) but that they're the opposite of mephisto's zombies who were devoid of any thoughts or feelings while the corpses here are still moving from their intense emotions, Bag is like oh yeah the purple flames...familiar...

They follow a caravan and run into Reed who says she's escorting a bunch of Taran refugees but also looking for the Dublinn forces. They run into a whole bunch of (Victorian Army) corpses (Chen: "seems like they fought about a week ago" how are you so good at this kind of thing lmao...) but they can't find any bodies from the opposing side because surprise: the enemies are all ghosts and they just carried on moving lol

After Reed explains the ghosts to the Taran refugees Chen tells her it's good that they've given up on joining the Dublinn forces but "If you're with them, I'm sure they won't go astray.......Although you might find it difficult to stay with them always, Draco."

?????? i was under the impression she never got any of Tal's letters but idk...maybe they did talk about Alina and co before Tal got spirited away by Nine...

This cg is so funny to me... there's a cute part here where Bagpipe gets half of a bread from the kid and then shares it with Chen

B: Thanks a bunch! Chenchen, come over! Take a bite outta this. Just one though! Smells real good, right? I'm wonderin' what kinda flavouring did they used to make this...... C: *chew*......Can't tell. B: Aw, your tastebuds must have gotten real dull after going back to Yan, or did you become even more fussy with your food? C: What do you think? You know, we Lungmenites actually boil our summer tea with twenty-four different kinds of herbs. B: For real? ......Wait, are you playing with me again? C: Nope.

And then Fischer(Puzzle) ambushes them shortly after :( but Chen notes that his (basically MI6 I think?) party treated them and particularly, her very well compared to the Taran refugees that all got tied up, while outside Chen asks Bagpipe if she still remembers the hand signals they used when they were partners in school (to steal some originium thing...?) but just as they're about to rescue Reed from Puzzle's interrogation the Draco just sets the entire tent on fire or something lol. Everyone scatters into the woods and Chen is about to make her way to some refugees when she gets attacked by someone who knows who she is ...???

C: Such quick movements! Where did they come from? ???: Chen Hui-Chieh. Officer Chen. Chen followed up with a slash that hit naught but the thick fog. She felt a chill. ???: Have you ever considered--how your actions against the Victorian Army would affect Wei Yan Wu? C: ......I do whatever I want. What does it have to do with him? I'm just trying to help some innocents stuck in conflict here, so if you want to exercise diplomacy, better make sure you're doing the right thing in the first place. ???: Perhaps you wish to gloss over the complexities, but I have a question for you. No need to rush an answer. ???: Why did you come to Victoria? Or should I say--who did you come to Victoria for? C: ......My origins, my family, or even my personal grievances have nothing to do with our current dispute. Whatever suspicions you have... right now, I only have my sword to answer you with. So, now-- (*sword slash sfx*) Leave.

At the end of the story Chen and bagpipe tune into a crappy radio and hear that Victoria and Kazdel are about to go to war, so looking forward to chapter 12 I guess!!!!!

Story was pretty good, I uh didn't read ch9/10 in it's entirety so i just went into this with extremely rusty knowledge about The Troubles I learnt in school like 10+ years ago lol, enjoyed the sibling parallels; Reed looking for her sis, Salmon looking for her brother (rip in pepperonis!!!!), Chen looking for Tal...... how does this event look and feel more like fire emblem than engage does

oh yeah iirc harmonie didnt talk to chen sadge......maybe next time hopefully

[luvnami]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - wahh it’s here! can’t believe my brainrot of osamu teaching a cooking class turned into this long fic lol... i hope you enjoy it!! it was fun crafting the story with my beta readers and i put a lot of effort into it!!! itadakimasu <3

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @forgetou​ @amjustagirl​ (muacks 2x) + tq to everyone who helped me with the banner!!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - you’re suna’s younger sibling, food, heartbreak, angst but happy ending, mentions of stabbing (joke), kita dances to ‘ice cream’ by selena gomez and blackpink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood (brief), suna beats (redacted) up

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - miya osamu x gn!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - you fall in love with miya osamu once more, but you’re afraid of getting hurt again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5535

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

1. Cook the rice according to your rice cooker, then transfer the cooked rice to a separate bowl to cool it down.

“What ya want t’do is scorch the soy sauce.”

The class presses themselves against Osamu’s workbench as they scribble down notes on their recipe printouts. Their lips purse to ooh and aah at his cooking skills, though you’re pretty sure that they’re more interested in how his biceps flex when he flips the wok with a trained flick of the wrist. 

You stand at the very edge of the group. It’s better than getting close with a group of hungry housewives, really. If grocery store and department mall sales have ever told you anything, it’s to never get in the way of what a seasoned housewife wants. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t learnt the way of being a homemaker just yet. 

You’re unemployed, right in the middle of a month and a half-ish long transfer between jobs. You currently stay at your brother Suna’s place — which is really just an apartment filled with dirty laundry overflowing from its seams.

Turns out Suna himself is a bit of a gossip.  He told Kita who told Atsumu who told Osamu that you’re stuck at his place 24/7 with no friends or entertainment in the lovely city of Nagano. It’s just mountains and trees as far as the eye can see all around — and there’s only so many hikes you can take each week. 

“Why don’t you take a cookin’ class?” 

“Cookin’?” Your face screwed up in confusion. “ What for?”

“So that you can actually pull your weight around the house and make me something to eat.”

You chucked a pillow at his head and began to list all the things you did while staying at his apartment. Laundry, cleaning the floor, doing grocery shopping (even if it was only instant noodles and snacks), finding his disgustingly sweaty socks under the sofa and many other important chores, thank you very much.

Besides, you weren’t as eager when you saw who was the one that would be holding the classes. With his picture plastered across the front of a pamphlet, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Years of chasing his dreams and training in a kitchen had done Osamu wonders. 

You had half a mind to smack Suna in the head with the yellow, glossy paper, but instead you quietly tucked it into a corner of the guest room to look at later. You were sure Suna hadn’t forgotten your history with Osamu just yet — but perhaps he assumed that enough time had passed to heal your wounds.

Either way, there’s no going back now. That’s how you ended up at Osamu’s ‘Cooking class for homemakers — you can do it too!’, except you aren’t a homemaker. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as the sound of sizzling soy sauce fills the air. Osamu pauses for a while before beginning to mix the rice with the sauce, wielding his spatula and wok expertly like weapons.

“Miya-san, you’re amazing!” someone gushes.

He lets out a bashful laugh. “This is nothing. I’m sure everyone will be able to do this by the end of class today!”

You wonder if he’s ever considered being a teacher. The demonstration on how to make shrimp fried rice is soon over and everyone returns to their benches, eager to try out the recipe. You are no different. Scurrying to your bench at the very back of the classroom, you exchange glances between the printed recipe handout and your tray of ingredients.

“Need any help?” 

Osamu’s voice and looming presence makes you jump.

“Woah! Careful there,” he chuckles, his fingers gently prying a knife out of your hands.

Unconsciously, you had raised it in shock when Osamu snuck up on you. The knife now lays safely on the tabletop and you feel the eyes of the entire class boring into you.

“Sorry, Miya-san. I didn’t see you,” you apologise meekly.

“Don’t worry about it, I shouldn't have scared ya like that. And no need for the formalities! You’re my friend’s sister, afta’ all.”

Oh goodness. You half expect the class to pick up their pots and pans and run at you right this moment. You swallow back the half hearted ‘Osamu-san’ that rises in your throat. Your heart trembles in your chest and for a second, the silence that weighs heavily between the both of you turns awkward. 

“Miya-san! Could you help me with this please?” 

You’ve never been so glad to hear Tachibana’s sickly shrill voice before. Osamu is quick to wave goodbye to you before hurrying over to her bench, a smile still on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

You make a mental note to tell Suna that Osamu should just stick to placating those housewives and leave you the hell alone. The last thing you want is to have blackmail spread around the neighbourhood by these gossipy housewives, or worse, have their daughters hunt you down and chop you up into pieces.

Whatever. You’re just here to learn how to make shrimp fried rice and then go home to your annoying older brother. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be here for long. Miya Osamu just happens to be the local heartthrob, the handsome and eligible bachelor chased by anyone single and ready to mingle. You have absolutely nothing to do with someone so popular and good-looking. And for goodness sake, he’s your brother’s high school friend and your… Well, you know. 

Your face burns and you pick up the knife again, grip tightening on its handle. You begin chopping at the onions with renewed determination.

(Later on, when you bring back a tupperware of fried rice for Suna, he looks you in the eye and asks “Shrimp fried this rice?”.

You shoot him a glare.

“I fried this rice.”)

2. Prepare all the fillings that you are going to use and set aside, such as pickled plums or tuna mayo. Prepare your seaweed sheets.

What you don’t expect is for Miya Osamu to show up at your doorstep the next day with boxes of food, cartons of drinks and a very noisy brother of his in tow. 

“Rin, where can I leave the drinks?” Osamu yells.

“Rin, can I play your PS5?” Atsumu shouts.

You think that they are very different, the Miya twins. Suna takes a minute to finish putting on some clothes (you had answered the door, thankfully. No one wants to see Suna Rintarou in Pikachu boxers) before bursting out of his room.

He’s quick to smack Atsumu’s ‘dirty little setter hands’ away from his precious Playstation, directing Osamu to what constitutes the apartment’s kitchen — a second-hand fridge and the building-installed gas stove that works only if you hit it hard enough. You’re surprised that neither you or Suna haven't died of a house fire or gas poisoning by now.

It doesn’t take long for the other Inarizaki alumni to arrive at Suna’s apartment in a series of doorbell rings. Kita even brings along a large bottle of sake, to which everyone cheers loudly. You don’t understand why they had chosen Suna’s place to have a reunion party. Seriously, wouldn't Onigiri Miya or some other izakaya have been a better choice?

However, there’s free flow of drinks and lots of yummy snacks, so you decide to let the noise wash over you and stand by the food table to pick at the trays of pizza, fried chicken and other finger food. Aran even offers you a drink, smiling sweetly before going off to wrangle Atsumu from trying to initiate a beer chugging competition. Some things just never change, you suppose.

“Having fun?”

You jump and nearly drop the plate of food that you hold.

“You have a horrible habit of scaring people, Miya- Osamu.”

His first name comes out awkward, tumbling off of your tongue as you use a pair of chopsticks to carefully pile back some mentaiko mayonnaise onto a slice of tamagoyaki. Osamu settles into the crook of the kitchen counter next to you with a playful grin on his face.

“Do I really?”

“Don’t forget that the first time you did that, someone nearly got stabbed.”

You pop the tamagoyaki into your mouth. It’s delicious — the egg’s sweetness balances out the salty sauce. You wonder if there’s enough left on the tray for seconds. 

“How’s the reunion going?” you ask nonchalantly, and shuffle a few centimetres away from him.

You hope Osamu doesn’t notice that. He does, however, but chooses not to comment on it. He brings up a hand to scratch at his neck, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He’s close enough for you to get a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Your head spins for a second. 

“Oh, none of us have gotten drunk just yet. I’m pretty sure we’ll be playing beer pong or something later on.”

You steel yourself against the urge to look at what Osamu is wearing. Don’t look, don’t look, definitely don’t look. Miya Osamu is, has been, a dangerous man to fall in love with. You can’t afford to- 

Perhaps gouging your eyes out would have been a better choice in theory. Even a glance from where you stand beside him is enough to see that not only is he wearing a tight, black T-shirt, Osamu also has a pair of sweatpants on. Is it a sin to wear sweatpants? Probably so, especially with the way it makes your throat run dry. 

“Beer pong, huh?” You try your best to mumble somewhat nonchalantly. “Who won the last time?”

“Kita.”

“Kita?!” you gasp. 

Even that’s enough to make you forget about Osamu and his stupid (and very sexy) sweatpants. 

“Yeah, right? That was the first time he participated. All of us got left drunk in the street, so we decided to do it at someone’s place this year.”

You let out a soft laugh at the thought of a bunch of grown men piled over each other on the road. You don’t particularly like the thought of cleaning up after them tonight, though. 

The lack of words between you and Osamu descends into snorts of laughter that trickle in from the tiny living room. Aran throws his head back, drink nearly spilling out of his cup. Ginjima laughs so loud you see Omiomi cover his ears and Suna holds his phone up, filming every second of Atsumu’s defeat. 

Osamu opens his mouth as if to ask you something.

“C’mon! Yer killin’ me, Kita-san!” Atsumu yells, socked feet and waving arms trying to match the onscreen character’s movements.

Kita, on the other hand, is scoring perfect marks without as much effort wasted. You giggle to yourself as he moves his hips, shaking them here and there. A small smile quirks his lips upwards as he finishes with a flawless ending move on ‘Ice Cream’, the Just Dance characters fading into oblivion on the screen. Atsumu crumbles to the floor in defeat. 

Osamu’s lips form a straight line as he watches you laugh along, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He curses Atsumu’s birth and swallows back his embarrassment.

“Did ya see that, Osamu? Oh- Kita-san is so good at everything!” you gush.

“Atsumu just sucks.”

When you laugh, Osamu thinks something in his chest lurches. Regret makes his head go foggy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

3. Place cling wrap over a rice bowl. Place some of the cooked rice over the centre of the cling wrap and make a well.

“No way ya got a love letter!” Atsumu yelled.

“Ya get yer fair share. We share t’same face, why shouldn’t I get some?” Osamu retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Suna watched as the twins began to gripe and argue about who was the better looking sibling again. Nothing unusual, really, given how this occurred every odd day of the week.

“S’gotta be a prank. No way someone likes a loser like you,” Suna mused.

In retaliation, Osamu threw him a stink eye. “You two are just jealous,” he sniffed.

The letter had been written on pretty pink paper, all hearts and cute handwriting as his secret admirer asked him to meet them on the roof after school. Not that Osamu wasn’t affected by it, of course. It always rubbed his ego the right way to know that someone preferred him over Atsumu. Though, it wasn’t like he was interested in anyone then. It only took a second before Osamu ripped the letter in half.

“Woah woah woah! Yer crazy! Whatcha gonna do if some pretty girl gave that to ya?” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened in shock, almost reaching forward to grab the shreds of letter that Osamu had torn up. 

“Does it matter? S’not like I’m interested in datin’ right now,” he replied.

“Seriously? What if she’s like, super duper hot!”

Osamu’s face screwed up. “Are ya a horndog?”

Just as Atsumu was about to shout at his dear brother again, you opened the door to their classroom and hurried in. You had a bento box in hand and a cute pout on your face as you placed it on Suna’s table.

“Rin! You forgot your bento at home again!” 

“Oh.” Suna blinked. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, you gotta stop forgetting your things! I can’t be bringing them to you all the time-”

“Hey, Suna.” Atsumu perked up, referring to you. “Would ya go on a date with Samu or me? Me, right? Definitely me!”

Your face flushed with heat. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“‘Samu got a love letter in his shoe locker this morning. Cliche, huh?” your brother said between bites of his lunch. 

“Mm, yeah. Cliche,” you mumbled. 

You looked around anxiously for any sign of the love letter. Was it in Osamu’s bag? 

“Can ya believe he tore it up?” Atsumu laughed.

“What?”

Your heart felt like a stone in your chest as you froze, your blood running cold. 

“Yeah! This dumbass doesn’t know how t’appreciate anythin’,” he replied, smacking Osamu on the back of his head.

His twin responded with a muffled growl as he continued to scarf down his absurdly large bento. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves, staring down at your feet. You were quick to bid the third years goodbye as you fled their classroom as an inexplicable ache spread through your chest. 

You didn’t focus on your classes for the rest of the day. The fact that Osamu had torn your love letter, written with all your heart and soul as you crumpled draft after draft last night, tipped you over the edge of your fantasies and had you plummeting straight into reality. 

“Oi.”

You looked up from your feet, glancing up at Suna. The both of you were swapping your indoor shoes for outdoor ones, but you had absentmindedly stopped in the middle of slipping your right foot into a shoe. It was nearing the time where they closed the school gates, so there weren’t many students around save for the odd volleyball club member.

“What’re you doing? Put your shoes on properly,” he huffed.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and slammed the locker door shut once you were done.

You walked a few feet ahead of Suna as you approached the school gate. Your head drooped with each step, tears beginning to mist your eyes. You willed yourself to hold it in till you got home, till you were in the safety of your bedroom to start sobbing your little heart out. Suna tugged on your wrist.

“Are you crying?” he questioned.  

You shook your head quickly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“Oi. Answer me.”

This time, his voice was a little softer, yet held a mixture of irritation and anger behind a crumbling wall of apathy. Who had been the one to make you cry? 

“It’s nothin’,” you choked out. “Let’s just go home.”

You turned your face to the side as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, muffled cries turning into heartbroken sobs. Something inside of Suna’s head clicked. 

“It’s Miya Osamu, isn’t it?” 

You had to bite on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“That bastard tore up your letter, didn’t he?”

You gave Suna the tiniest of nods. He let go of your wrist and whipped around, eyebrows furrowed together. Not wanting to date was one thing, but treating your confession like dog shit was something else. Fortunately for him, the Miya twins were changing their shoes in the getabako.

“‘Samu!” Suna yelled.

The gray haired male looked up with a face of confusion.

“Suna? Whaddya want-” Osamu wasn’t able to say anything more as Suna’s fist collided with his face.

Atsumu jumped back with a yelp as the both of them crashed to the ground. Your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Rin! Stop it!” you cried out.

You dashed over, tripping over your own feet as you tried to pull Suna away from Osamu as they traded blows. It took the work of you, Atsumu and Ginjima (who had been unlucky enough to pass by) to tear the two apart, and even then Osamu was still struggling in his brother’s arms to be let go.

“What t’hell, man!” he snarled. 

Suna wiped his nose, glancing briefly at the crimson that stained his school uniform. The adrenaline was beginning to run low and pain began to settle into his fists and ribs. His shoulders heaved with each breath, and your hands clutched his shirt.

“Rin. No more, please,” you begged, pressing your forehead against his back. “No more.”

Suna hated the way your voice trembled as you spoke. He didn’t think it was fair for you to bear the burden of pain while Osamu got to walk away unscathed, leaving you broken in pieces. His fist curled up again.

“It’s not worth it, Rin.”

Suna took in a shaky, deep breath.

You were right.

Miya Osamu wasn’t worth it. 

4. Put about 1tbsp of the filling of your choice on the centre of the rice and cover it with rice.

A week comes and goes after the annual Inarizaki reunion. You’re still finding sticky stains on the floor, as well as food wrappers tossed behind the sofa. Suna sends the group chat a video of you yelling at all of them while wielding a mop with so much fervour Aran asks if you broke it. Atsumu actually apologises and Osamu offers to come over and help clean up. The entire group chat flames him immediately.

As per last week, you walk into Osamu’s cooking class at 2p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s hot outside, droplets of perspiration rolling down your nape. The cool air-conditioning of the classroom is much appreciated and you don your apron behind the gaggle of housewives. You catch snippets of their conversation as they put their items in the cubbies provided. 

“Tanaka-san, did you see the mushrooms that were on sale this Monday?”

“My son is attending this cram school this summer. Here’s the address!”

“My father-in-law keeps complaining about the heat…”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Miya-san!”

Everyone perks up when Osamu walks through the door. They’re quick to surround him, asking how his day had been. You look tired, take this ginseng drink! It really revitalises your spirits! Did you get a girlfriend yet, Miya-san? My daughter is single, you know! 

You watch as Osamu walks behind his bench, all smiles and “Is that so, Shigeru-san?”. Polite enough to please them, but not enough to make them think that he actually wants to go on a date with their 34 year-old daughter who’s a tired office worker looking out for potential husbands like a hawk. He lets out a heavy exhale, using his cap with the Onigiri Miya logo on it to fan himself.

“Hot today, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

You think that maybe he’s the one that’s making this summer so warm, especially with the way that his shirt clings to his figure and his flushed cheeks that make him look adorable. 

Wait.

You do a double take. Ah, adorable. You must have meant that heart-print apron that Tanaka is wearing today. It is pretty cute, and you wonder if you should ask her where she got it from later on. Definitely not Osamu with his perfect smile that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and definitely not when it’s directed at you.

“Gather around everyone! We’re going to be making gyoza today!”

The demonstration goes as usual — Osamu impresses the housewives, they gasp and someone even touches his forearm and asks “How did you get so strong, Miya-san?”. Not that you care, of course. You certainly don’t. What you’re more concerned about is how Osamu manages to make wrapping the fragile gyoza seem so easy. 

Your fingers pinch at the thick dough, eyebrows furrowed together. No matter what you do, your filling keeps spilling out of the wrapper and so you’ve opted to try out for a thicker piece this time. Not that it really matters — Suna will be the one suffering from food poisoning if it turns out bad, anyways.

“Ah, yer made it too thick,” Osamu says as he strolls over. 

You tense up as he leans over your shoulder, peeking at the chubby gyoza in your hands. You pretend not be affected by how close he is and continue pinching the wings of the dumpling shut.

“They keep bursting,” you sniff. 

“Maybe ya put t’much filling?” Osamu suggests. “Here, lemme show ya. Put tha’ one down and grab a new wrapper. Yeah, just like that.”

You stiffen as Osamu flours his hands and cradles your hands in his. 

“Here ya go. That’s t’much, scoop out some more. That’s it. Now gently…”

Blood rushes to your face as you feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours, his hands rough from years of training and cooking. Scars adorn the tips of his thick fingers and knuckles. You suddenly feel the urge to gently trace them with your thumb, to ask him how he got each one of them. 

Would he let you? Let you so close, that perhaps you would be the one to know every single thing about him?

“You did it!” Osamu says cheerfully. 

He suddenly pulls away, making you plummet back to reality. A perfectly made gyoza sits in your hands.

“I’m looking forward to tasting your gyoza later on. Now keep trying!” 

You’re left dumbfounded as Osamu walks away to help out the other housewives. They stammer and blush when they get too close, but he never holds their hands in his own, never smiles as gently as he does with you.

You place the gyoza on a pan and put the lid on with a little bit more force than what is necessary.

5. Wrap the cling wrap over the rice and squeeze and mould it into a triangle shape with your hands.

You try not to make contact with Osamu after that. Attending his cooking classes becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, where you try to tell him ‘I don’t need any help, Miya-san’ and watch him crawl away in defeat. In fact, you decide to skip the lesson on making hamburgs and instead spend the afternoon watching television.

After all, from what you’ve learnt in the past, Osamu is nothing more than trouble. You think it’s worth the sacrifice now to put some space between the both of you so that you don’t end up heartbroken a second time. 

Though, you do feel a little bad. Just a little bit. One day when Suna’s out at training, you hear the doorbell ring and Osamu’s voice ring through the genkan. You hear his feet shuffle by the door and a heavy thump outside before he leaves. You only open the door when you hear his car pull out of the apartment building’s carpark, and find a packed bento lunch for you in front.

You try to pretend that the bunny cut apples and sakura shaped carrot slices don’t mean anything.

“Ah, Suna-san! Where were you last week?” Tachibana titters as you step into class for the final lesson.

“I wasn’t feeling very well,” you lie. “I think I caught a summer cold.”

“Oh dear, that sounds terrible!” the ladies chorus together. 

You think they’re probably just glad that you didn’t get in the way of their beloved Miya-san. You tug your apron over your head, and ignore Osamu when he greets everyone. His eyes linger on you for a little too long during the demonstration — to the point that he actually burns the skin side of his salmon fillet.

Osamu skirts around your bench like a nervous puppy when the demonstration is over. You don’t seem particularly keen about talking to him, though the tips of your finger tremble when he finally plucks up the courage to stand next to you. It’s not close enough for your elbows to touch, but close enough that he can whisper to you without anyone else hearing him.

“Hey,” he begins, uncertain. His voice wavers slightly.

“Hey,” you reply, wary of what he might say. 

“Are you okay?”

You take a moment to think, tipping the sake bottle carefully to measure out an exact tablespoon of it. He wonders when your hands have seemed so delicate, so small. He aches to hold them in his own again. 

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.”

It’s quiet, again. Just like that night in Suna’s apartment, with all the noise of the reunion going on around you, except this time it's the clanging of pans and utensils, paired with the chatter of many ladies. 

“I was thinking…” Osamu stares down at your hands, turning the measuring spoon over so that sake splashes onto the hot pan with a sizzle. “Maybe we could get a drink together after this?”

You cover the pan and watch its surface cloud up with condensation. You hide your shaking hands by digging them into the pockets of your apron. 

Osamu swallows. Perhaps he had been too direct with you; scared you off with how quickly he was advancing. Or did Suna tell you to be careful of him? That he didn’t want you falling in love with him a second time? There’s no lie about it, that Osamu had been a grade A asshole back in high school.

But he loves you now; has loved you since then. Would you be willing to give him a second chance?

“Osamu,” you breathe.

His shoulders relax slightly when you don’t call him by his last name. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Your voice comes out timid, scared. Osamu’s heart crumbles at the edges. He wonders if you would hate him if he reached out and took your hands in his once more. You’re both adults, perfectly capable of rational thinking if only your hearts hadn’t gotten in the way. Love hurts, they said. You want to agree. 

“We can start it out slow,” Osamu suggests.

“I’m supposed to start my new job next month. I won't be in Nagano for much longer.”

“I’m opening a branch in Tokyo.”

“I’ll be busy settling down. We might not get to see each other often enough.”

“A little is better than nothin’.”

“You’re my brother’s friend.”

“Now, yer just picking at nothing, babe. Didn’t you have a crush on me back in high school, too? That didn’t stop ya, did it?”

Your heart wrestles with your brain, insisting on comfort and that love will always come in the form of someone that isn’t Miya Osamu. You’ll find someone, but will they be better? Will they send food to your doorstep, or send you stupid photos of dogs he saw on the street? Will they chase after you relentlessly for years, will they be Osamu?

A lump forms in your throat and you wonder if this, has been, is love. You tear your heart out from within you and let it cling to your sleeve, as pathetic and scared it is. You don’t mind if it hurts. To never hurt is to never have lived, to never have loved. 

By this point, your eyes have misted up with tears and it hits you- You’re about to cry about your crush in the middle of a cooking class attended by middle-aged ladies. You’ve never been more embarrassed. 

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at Osamu with glittering eyes. 

He ignores the “Miya-san! I need your help!” that rings out in the background. He smiles gently.

“Yeah, really.”

A tear slips down your face. Osamu lets out a breathy chuckle as he swipes it away with his thumb, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll talk properly after this, alright?” 

You nod numbly. You watch as he hurries off to Shigeru, gasping when he sees how she had completely butchered her fillet. He turns back to you, trying to hold in a snigger. 

You giggle.

Osamu thinks he wants to hear that laugh forever.

6. Remove the cling wrap and cover the bottom of the rice triangle with a nori sheet and set aside.

“One extra large bonito onigiri with spring onions!” you cry out from the counter.

Back in the kitchen, Osamu and another part-time worker scoop steaming rice out of large vats and use their hands to mould them into perfectly shaped triangles. A scoop of filling goes in and a strip of seaweed is wrapped hastily around the onigiri before it's sent to you to package. You place the onigiri carefully into a box and slip it into a paper bag with the shop’s logo on the front for a take-away order. 

The shop is filled with customers even on a Wednesday afternoon. The clock shows 2p.m., past lunch time, yet you can see a queue that snakes out of the shop and down the alleyway. 

Another long day ahead, you think to yourself. 

“It’s our turn!” a little girl squeals as she takes the bag from you, opening it up to peer at the huge onigiri inside. “Mama! ‘giri!” 

Her mother laughs and pats her head. “Don’t forget to say thank you, Haru.”

The girl turns to you, eyes sparkling. “‘Fank you, Miya-shan!” 

A cheery grin almost splits your face in half. Miya-san. Four years on and it still makes your stomach flip whenever you hear that Osamu’s last name has become yours. It was an easy decision for the both of you to get married, really. You had loved each other for years and all you wanted to do in the end was to spend the rest of your lives together.

You quit your office job just before you got married to help Osamu out with the new Onigiri Miya branches. It took some getting used to, but the familiar customers and bright smiles that you see just by serving onigiri each day makes it worth it. It’s tough work, no doubt. But doing what you enjoy with the man you love is more rewarding than it ever could be.

Though, it’s not like your relationship has always been smooth sailing. There are days when you bicker over something stupid (like how you always forget to close the lid of the rice cooker), or when Osamu insists that he isn’t overworking himself (although his eyebags tell otherwise). But love’s a recipe with a few secret ingredients, and you’ve come to master it over the years. 

“Come back soon!”

The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of freshly cooked rice and bonito flakes being stir-fried into furikake. Customers perch on tiny stools as they scarf down onigiri of different shapes and sizes, licking their fingers clean. A plush toy of Onigiri Miya’s mascot sits on the counter next to a potted plant that Atsumu bought (which is surprisingly still alive).

A photograph of the third Tokyo branch’s grand opening hangs on the wall. You and Osamu hold up a bouquet of flowers, smiling toothily at the camera, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight. 

“One medium onigiri with tuna mayo, coming right up!”

You jump as Osamu shouts out the order suddenly and you nearly drop the onigiri that he hands to you.

“Woah, careful there,” he chuckles, a hand ghosting the small of your back.

“You have ‘ta stop scaring me, ‘Samu,” you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

Osamu grins at you and the edges of his eyes crinkle up. You place the onigiri safely into its packaging and place it on the counter for a customer to collect, before turning back to plant a kiss on his cheek. Osamu’s face flushes pink and he hurries away, mumbling something about bonito flakes.

Your heart soars in your chest.

Yeah, it has been, will be, worth it. 

7. Repeat the same steps as above to use the rest of the rice with other fillings that you prepared.

[officialleotolstoy]

Oh Danatole Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Danatole playlist annotations!

I am NOT going apologize for making this. I’m not. But know I am feeling shame.

Nobody - Hozier

“I wouldn’t fall for someone I thought couldn’t misbehave”

This is a bit of a best-case-scenario song, but I really feel like the vibes are encapsulated here. It’s got the energy of “i love you because we sin together and it’s fun” and also “I have a lot of lovers but lowkey.... you’re my fave 😳” which is, as I said, the best I could ever see them getting to.

Bad Decisions - Bastille

“So we’ll make the same mistakes til the morning breaks”

This song is about being idiots together and also knowing it’s not good for you which is the vibe. Also the refusal to have an Actual Relationship in “love me, leave me, rhythm of the evening” pops off. This song GETS that it’s a more casual thing but also weirdly important to them. Oh and “maybe this is where it ends” can be interpreted to be about the elopement plan if you want to stretch it.

Quarter Past Midnight - Bastille

“Good times, bad decisions”

“Let’s go be stupid together in public and also maybe hold hands uwu”

Glory - Bastille

“Passing the drink from hand to hand, we admit we really know nothing at all”

“Let’s go get drunk together in private and also maybe hold hands uwu”

Nocturnal Creatures - Bastille

“We’ve only got ourselves to blame, again and again and again”

The whole deal with this song is like. We’re in love kind of I guess but like only when in certain situations when our guard is down. Does that make sense?? It does in my head. And the idea of it being something stupid that they both keep coming back to despite being aware of it really fits. Disclaimer I’m not trying to suggest these two are Deeply In Love I’m just bad at wording things

Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco

“I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you”

“You’re bad for me but we keep coming back to each other” vibes again. I don’t think Anatole is aware of how bad this actually is, he canonically has no idea he’s being manipulated, but I do think Dolokhov has a much better perspective on it. In my mind, Dolokhov really wishes he did not feel Anything for Anatole but. That is not working out the way he planned it, so a lot of these “why do I keep doing this :/“ songs are more from Dolokhov’s side than Anatole’s.

The Waves - Bastille

“Oh what would your mother say if she could see what we’re doing now?”

Look I added this for the Dolokhov’s mom jokes okay. That was the whole reason. I could very much see Anatole saying this exact thing to him.

Hell and You - Amigo the Devil

“Live with me in this sin forever”

Man the ENERGY of this song. The admittance and focus on them both being terrible people but enjoying being terrible together...yeah that’s them.

4am - Bastille

“You are my familiar”

The idea of just accepting something maybe not so great because it’s familiar which becomes easy which becomes fun...I very much think that’s how their relationship progressed, at least from Dolokhov’s end (You’re probably thinking “wow Wren, this playlist is super skewed toward Dolokhov’s feelings on the matter” and you’re right it’s because I hate Anatole 🥰). It’s definitely too forthcoming about actually enjoying the experience but oh well. Oh, and I stole a line from it for a fic once so it gets a permanent spot.

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

“You and me could write a bad romance”

It is objectively a bad romance, but the real reason this song is on here is that I always forget it is and it makes me laugh every time

It Will Come Back - Hozier

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it”

Man Dolokhov really said ok I will manipulate this kid for a lil bit for money and then seven years later he’s helping him plan some illicit elopement for no personal gain huh. Life is crazy. Basically this song covers the “you were not intending for me to stick around but I’m a fixture of your life now!” thing. I wholeheartedly believe Dolokhov never planned to spend this much time with the Kuragins he just accidentally got attached.

Mamma Mia - ABBA

“You know you won’t be away too long”

It doesnt work super well but it makes me laugh okay!!! The concept of being bad for each other and not really working well but coming back to each other for some reason anyway is there.

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

“No light in your bright blue eyes”

I heard the phrase bright blue eyes and smashed the add to playlist button, that’s it. But the more I listened to it the more I decided it could work post-elopement if you stretch it. “I’d do anything to make you stay” is obviously intended to be a romantic don’t-leave-me thing in the song but you can take it as the preparations scene if you really want. Not to suggest preparations is a romantic don’t-leave-me thing, that is very much not what I mean. “You cant choose what stays and what fades away” We all know Anatole wanted to flounce off with Natasha but in the end he was left eating dinner with Dolokhov 😔✌🏻 Dolokhov stayed and Natasha faded away hmmmm. Yes, purposely misinterpreting media is one of my favorite pastimes, why do you ask?

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody - Fergie

I don’t even have a lyric for this this is straight up just there for the hedonism/partying energy

We Are Young - fun.

“Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart”

This is mostly also just here for the friends/lovers at bars and parties living it up type beat. But the line “I know that I’m not all that you’ve got/I guess that I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart” bit does kinda hit. It’s by no means exclusive but they do kinda have fun yknow? Also the awareness that they are falling apart rather than doing anything worthwhile or loving is pretty fun.

Fine Line - Harry Styles

“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes”

Obviously Dolokhov would not admit to being devoted to Anatole, and I don’t think I can in good conscience say that he is, but I think he’s definitely more devoted than he wants to be. It’s more about the hate line anyway. I initially just added it because I was like oh it works as a fine line between love and...not love, but honestly some of the lyrics work pretty well. Now that I’m armed with the knowledge that Anatole’s name means sunrise, I can say “you sunshine, you temptress” fits too.

I Dare You - The Regrettes

“I never wanted to get too close to you but now it looks like I’m getting too close to you”

RIGHT OFF THE BAT this one gets it. That lyric is The Vibe. “You’re gonna fall but I’ll catch you” is reminiscent of Dolokhov helping Anatole get out of (and into) messes constantly, although in an ideal world it would be a lot more grudging. And not to harp on about this but “you’re the one that brings the sun” 🔈ANATOLE MEANS SUNRISE🔈

Nine in the Afternoon - Panic! At The Disco

“Your eyes are the size of the moon”

I did warn you guys there would be several songs on here that are only there because they mention eyes, right? I definitely said that somewhere. I am going to use Dolokhov’s bright blue orbs for my nefarious Danatole playlist purposes and there’s nothing you can do about it. “You could cause you can so you do” does encapsulate Anatole’s thought process pretty well though, I think.

The Mighty Fall - Fall Out Boy

“Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme”

Not Dolokhov constantly using Anatole for money 🙄✋🏻 MLM in more ways than one. But also the idea of falling for someone being a kind of defeat works well. Admit you like him, Dolokhov. I dare you.

Bromance - Chester See & Ryan Higa

“Bromance, nothing really gay about it”

Historians will say they were roommates. I’m sorry this song just makes me laugh and I refuse to remove it.

Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco

“You fooled me once with your eyes now, honey, you fooled me twice with your lies”

Rhyming eyes with lies is peak Dolokhovcore! And the “Sarah doesn’t care, she lives in her world so unaware” is Anatolecore because he’s stupid. The bit about “my destiny lies with her” or whatever is irrelevant ignore that.

Fred Astaire - Jukebox the Ghost

“Those eyes, they get me every time”

The entire rest of this song is someone being blind to the other person’s flaws and initially I was like wow this doesn’t work at all and then I realized it could be stretched to mean Anatole being super oblivious to Dolokhov’s manipulation. But when it comes down to it, it’s about the eye lyric.

I Don’t Know Why I Like You But I Do - The Wombats

The title says it all. Literally that’s the whole explanation.

Daft Pretty Boys - Bad Suns

“I don’t like you, you look so pretty from afar”

If you don’t think Dolokhov calls Anatole a pretty boy (derogatory) you’re so wrong and I cannot help you. That was why I added it but the vibes of “you’re hot but wow your personality is terrible and I hate you” are there so. Enjoy! Oh and the bit about wasting your time works too, I can think of like sixty three better things off the top of my head Dolokhov could be doing than hanging out with Anatole, including but not limited to stapling his own fingers together and arson.

Rich Friends - Portugal. The Man

“I could really really really use a rich rich friend like you”

Do I HAVE to explain this one? I also like “Hey man I’m cool to lean on but I’m not your property” for them, if you stretch it it gets across the way Anatole thinks Dolokhov is His Friend but in reality. He’s using him HDHHSHDHDHBS Also the chorus has hedonism vibes, which ALWAYS works with these two.