angelsrecs

[angelsrecs]

YOUR BEST AMERICAN BOY by hatsuna

Completed | T | 23k

Main tags: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Getting Together, Alternate Universe- Asian Americans, High School, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder

“What unites both generations [OF ASIAN AMERICANS], Eng and Han suggest, is a kind of linguistic lack, a missing vocabulary—a paucity of stories that they might tell themselves about where they are going, and what it would mean to feel whole.”

Kiyoomi Sakusa has spent the last seventeen years believing he is boring. He has never met anyone inclined to challenge this belief.

c/w: self-harm, blood, implied child abuse

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The main reason I love this fic so much is because sakusa is so relatable in this fic. One of the central themes of this fic is the “Asian American experience” and cultural dissonance. I’m a second (and 1/2 I guess? My mom moved when she was a kid, my dad was born here) generation Chinese Canadian and it was like sakusa was written just to remind me of my experiences.

This bring me into my first favourite scene:

“But when we were talking just now, you said Kiyomi, which is wrong. You're missing a vowel. You're missing the other 'o.'"

"Am I?" Kiyoomi asks, the shame returning, the pebble in his belly expanding into a stone.

"Yeah, you sure are." Atsumu's eyes are far away, but his voice reaches a hand down Kiyoomi's throat and tugs.

It comes up green.

I don’t know any Chinese—mandarin or cantonese—like I should. When I was a child I was put into Chinese school; my Saturday’s were spent learning mandarin (because my parents thought it would be more useful for my future) instead of the Cantonese my parents knew. When I was in grade 1, full of resentment of having an extra day of school unlike my other friends, when my mandarin homework was too difficult for my parents to help me with, I begged my parents to let me stop. As a last ditch effort they put me into the Cantonese equivalent of my grade level and I just remember being so confused and hopeless that class. I never had to go again after that. Now I can’t even write my own name anymore and during family gatherings I say hello and look to my parents to translate for me when they inevitably as the usual How old are you now? How’s school going? When the subject comes up on why I don’t know Chinese I tend to blame my parents Why didn’t you speak it at home when I was younger? Why did you put me in mandarin classes? but in all honesty it’s my fault for giving up. I think about that a lot. Back to the point, I had some other Chinese friends ask what my Chinese name and when I said it there were some laughs about what it sounded like (wash hair). I’m pretty sure it’s because of my pronunciation (because canto and mandarin shouldn’t be that different); anyways, this scene really struck home.

I don’t know anything about OCD other than what was put in a chapter of my into to psychology class, but I think hatsuna does an incredible writing Sakusa’s OCD. I appreciated how they included definitions in the diagnosis scene, as well as how we see his experience full frontal during the fic.

Also I’m a sucker for words as a motif so when humanity/being alive is repeated throughout this fic it felt a punch to the stomach (this is a good thing) every time.

Kiyoomi remembers the rush of heat he felt in his cheeks at this declaration—the unshakable understanding that he was human. It simmered in his stomach for a long, long time. 

Because a name means you are real. A name means you are real. 

[movies] are a form of proof that yes, we were human, and yes, we were here.

Another thing I loved in this fic is the way hatsuna writes relationships, platonic or romantic.

I loved how the author also explored sakusas relationship with his mother (oh god here comes another tangent). My mom is a 1st Gen immigrant and while she didn’t move on her own (let alone move for me like in this fic), if I think about her childhood too much I get kinda weepy. She moved because of the Vietnam war and to keep it short, I know I’m extremely privileged to be in the position I am. She doesn’t talk much about that time (to me or to my dad either I’m pretty sure), but I heard one story from my aunt is how she fell off the boat when travelling from Vietnam. My mom has always been afraid of water.

One of the things I get on my fyp the most on tiktok is clips of people’s podcasts (sorry they’re kinda good and I’ve found some nice ones this way) and I remember 2 clips really vividly; they were from 2nd gen immigrants talking about their parents and the sacrifices they made and the guilt & gratitude that comes with it. I think that’s more of the angle this fic takes.

She’s out cold before Kiyoomi can tell her that he knows. That he knows monsters and martyrs are two sides of the same coin, that perhaps mothers are the closest thing humans will ever get to angels. 

Regarding the relationship between sakusa & atsumu, I wouldn’t say this is a slow burn, but we get these wonderful snippets of their development with this snapshot style of writing which takes me to my other favourite parts of this fic

The chuckle his partner lets out flutters like butterfly wings; it kisses him on the cheek. And just like that—all liquid gold and lavender—it dawns on Kiyoomi that Atsumu embodies happiness. Miya Atsumu is joy itself.

“What word were you assigned for the project again?” Kiyoomi starts exporting his video. “Happiness,”

"Love," Maria repeats, her eyes still glued to her true-tone screen. She's rereading her script one last time, checking for spelling errors before she submits it. "I thought your word was love."

Note: I cut out a few section of this last scene so it’s more succinct

Author does such a good job balancing the romance aspect and the more.. character study aspect (not quite sure how to word it). Like I said this isn’t quite a slow burn because I don’t feel the type of tension that’s associated with the tag, their development is more like a flow of water that builds up to the confession scene between the two.

For anyone else who has felt like a part of them has been missing due to being raised outside of their home country, YOUR BEST AMERICAN BOY will lay you bare in the best way possible.

[angelsrecs]

shout softly by lostsunsets

Completed | T | 10k

Main Tags: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Slow Burn Mutual Pining, Food, Character Study, Miya Osamu-centric

Miya Osamu and longing, in three parts— on the journey to Onigiri Miya; being a half of a whole; and the conundrum of Akaashi Keiji.

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As with any osamu character study, food (cooking, owning a restaurant, Onigiri Miya) is a central figure in most fics. lostsunsets takes this a step further with their, as they put it, “gratuitous descriptions of food” which will not only makes you hungry, but will cement osamu’s passion for food in your mind.

One of the things I love about reading osamu-centric fics is how they have the potential to focus on his career & love for cooking.

On one hand, this is because one of my guilty pleasures is food related media (anime, manga/manhwa, food network, youtube vids) so seeing this focus on food was such a bonus to me. Honestly, this had food porn level worthy food descriptions. With such variety in regions the dishes were mentioned, I imagine the author is at least on some level interested in food.

On the other hand, what I love is how people put in effort/passion/love in things that can be seen as insignificant or glanced over. (For example, a small paragraph is dedicated to osamu's miso yaki onigiri, where we learn he uses a specific red miso from the Shizuoka Prefecture.) Isn't that kind of amazing?Elements like that are what catch my attention or obsession(?) I've been rereading fics like this one because l'm hooked.

Another thing I loved was Akaashi’s food blog. Once again, it triggered my appreciation for those who go above & beyond with his reviews not only being immersive (made me think it was actually some blog post and “yea ofc akaashi runs a food blog, I see it”), but in some cases reflected real restaurants.

Outside of me being obsessed with all things food related in this fic, it also served other purposes. In the first half it helped cut up sections between OsaAka’s irl interaction and the more character study side of this fic (osamu’s dreams of food showing his passion for food/dream of working in culinary). In the latter half, with the pattern of these blog posts when the tone shifts, (as in when akaashi says a restaurant would be the perfect date spot) it gives us that mutual pinning tag, and showcases the development of their relationship. I also really love how it’s used to give a satisfying ending with announcing they’re together after the confession/kiss scene.

Anyways, the blog posts were such a nice touch.

Favourite scene:

He knows that, for himself and Akashi both, parts of them will always belong to other people. This is the kind of love that they give—advice, straight and to-the-point; support, quiet and unflinching. They are always there, and they will always be there, not out of some warped sense of obligation or duty, but simply because that is who they are.

And Osamu knows that it is people like Bokuto and Atsumu—who may seem flush with reckless abandon, who may seem like they have the world clenched around their fist—who need it the most.

Because they are the kinds of people who are able to take the love that they receive and turn it into miracles.

This scene was such a surprise to me and what really sold me on this fic. The quote “they are the kinds of people who are able to take the love that they receive and turn it into miracles” took my breath away when I read it. I didn’t expect that kind of dynamic/relationship analysis in this fic and I love how it emphasizes how similar osamu & akaashi are, really solidifying why they work. Above all else I believe relationships are about understanding.