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giveafike · 2 months ago

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Sugar, Spice & Everything Nice! -B.T.S

TLDR: making gingerbread cookies w Ben :p. This is part 4/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 4.6k. including dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: this one’s heavily inspired by my own family tradition - we always bake gingerbread cookies since I was a little girl! The first time I did, it was in primary school when I was maybe 6, 7 years old? And after that, my family took it and made it our own little mess :) v v wholesome making little biscuits, shaping them and waiting for them to cool and then decorating them… it’s such a pure act of patience and love, right? Also, changed the middle pic to the MSG pic, his eyes are twinkling, god I love him bad

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The morning was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came when the house was nearly empty. A faint December golden light filtered through the kitchen windows, warming the wooden table where you sat, flipping through the cookbook you had picked up at the Christmas market. The glossy pages felt smooth under your fingers, each recipe accompanied by photos of perfectly baked treats and artful decorations. It was the sort of book that made everything seem achievable, even for a novice. A steaming mug of coffee sat on the table beside you, the rich aroma mingling with the faint hint of pine from the Christmas tree in the other room. Ben had made the coffee, placing it in front of you with a casual kiss on the top of your head and a small rub on your shoulder before taking his place, sitting across you at the table with his own mug. Underneath the table, Halo was sprawled out comfortably, still softly snoring against the floorboards whenever you shifted your feet.

The house was calm, Lisa and Bryan were out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, and Emma had spent the night at her friend’s house, leaving her still lounging over there for the day. It was just you and Ben.

He seemed at ease, leaning against the counter in his sweats and a faded T-shirt, sipping his coffee and scrolling on his phone. There was something different about him in his childhood home, a quiet confidence, a comfort that came with years of familiarity but you being with him? He liked the way that felt.

Curiosity got the better of him as he set down his phone and stepped closer. “What’s got you so locked in?” he asked, peering over your shoulder.

You smiled, holding the book up slightly so he could see. “Gingerbread cookies,” you said, pointing to a page with intricately decorated cookies that looked almost too good to eat.

Ben squinted at the lengthy recipe and let out a soft laugh. “That’s... ambitious. Is that what you’re thinking of makin'?”

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “I mean, when I was a kid, we made gingerbread cookies once or twice, but it was the easy kind. You know, cutting out shapes from pre-made dough and sticking them on parchment paper. Not exactly homemade.”

He chuckled, leaning against the back of your chair. “So, you skipped all the hard stuff and went straight to the fun part, huh?”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin. “But this... this is the real deal. Making the dough, rolling it out, and baking from scratch. It feels like something I should try at least once, one day...”

Ben’s eyes softened as he watched you, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “Well,” he said, straightening up, “why not today? Let’s do it.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? This recipe is, like, a full-day commitment. I was just looking for inspiration.”

He nodded, setting his empty mug on the table. “Yeah, I’m sure. Mom’s stocked up on all the baking stuff for the holidays, so we should have everything we need. Besides, you’ve been talkin' about a baking day since we got here. Why not now?”

You hesitated for a moment, scanning his face for any hint of second thoughts, but his broad smile was nothing but genuine, his excitement contagious.

“Alright,” you said, closing the cookbook and standing up. “Let’s do it. But you better be ready to work, I’m not doing this all by myself.”

Ben smirked, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, I’m a great assistant. I’ll handle the hard labour.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your small smile as you began to call out ingredients while Ben gathered. Ben leaned casually against the counter, watching as you carefully measured out the flour, sugar, and spices, the soft clinking of measuring cups the only sound in the room. There was a quiet concentration in the way you moved, a small crease forming between your brows as you checked the recipe and sifted the flour into a large mixing bowl. Every so often, he caught you muttering numbers under your breath, double-checking your measurements, making him smile in pure smitten adoration.

“You’re taking this seriously, huh?” he teased, arms crossed as he leaned a hip against the counter.

“Of course I am,” you replied, not looking up. “You don’t mess around with dough. One wrong move, and it’s game over.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer to the cabinets. “Alright, Chef. What’s next? Spices?”

You nodded, dragging your finger across the page of the cookbook to check the measurements. “Yep. Cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and nutmeg. You got it?”

Ben nodded before he pushed himself off, stretching up to the top shelf of the cabinet, his fingers easily reaching the small spice jars that were out of your reach. He handed them to you one by one, lingering close as you measured each spice into a small bowl. The kitchen was soon filled with a warm, heady aroma, the kind that instantly made everything feel more festive.

“Smells like Christmas, for sure. You're doing somethin' right” Ben said, leaning down slightly to take a dramatic sniff.

“Smells like a lot of hard work,” you corrected, smiling as you added the spices to the bowl. “Alright, next is the wet ingredients. Butter and molasses, grab the molasses for me?”

Ben grabbed the jar and slid it across the counter toward you, watching you spoon the thick, dark syrup into the bowl. “That stuff’s like tar,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed. “It’s basically liquid gold for gingerbread, though. Trust the process.”

He nodded, though his expression remained sceptical. “Mhm. If you say so.”

As you cracked eggs into the mixture and began to combine everything, Ben wandered over to your side, resting a hand lightly on your back as he peered into the bowl.

“You’ve got this,” he said playfully. “But if you need some real muscle for the next part, I’m available.”

You glanced up at him, smirking. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re about to get your hands dirty.”

His grin widened. “Man, I’ve been waiting for you to say that!”

Once the dough had started to come together, you handed him the wooden spoon, pointing at the thick mixture.

“Alright, muscle-man. It’s your time to shine. But be careful, don’t overwork it. We need the dough to be soft and pliable, not like a brick.”

"Don’t overwork it," he echoed, his voice deliberately mimicking your tone. He tried to press his lips into a straight line, but his smile betrayed him. With a playful glint in his eye, he took the spoon from your hand. "Got it," he said, his grin slipping through despite his efforts.

You stepped back, crossing your arms as you watched him take over. His biceps flexed slightly as he stirred the dense dough, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he managed it, effortless and, somehow, ridiculously attractive. He was a mix of charm and frustration rolled into one.

“This isn’t so bad,” he said, glancing at you with a smug grin. “I thought you said this would be hard work.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you distracted yourself by taking the dirty utensils and bowls into the sink to stop yourself from drooling. “That’s because you haven’t gotten to the part where your arm feels like it’s going to fall off.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Please. I’m a professional athlete. I think I can handle-”

Mid-sentence, the spoon hit a particularly stubborn clump of dry dough, plastered in flour, and Ben’s smug expression faltered as he struggled to keep a massive part of the unmixed batter from spilling over the edge of the bowl.

“Careful!” you exclaimed, eyes widening as you stepped forward to steady the bowl.

“Alright, alright,” he said, his voice tinged with laughter as he adjusted his grip. “Maybe this is a little more work than I thought.”

You grinned, giving his arm a playful nudge. “Told you. Now, keep going. You’re doing great.”

With a determined look, Ben continued to fold the dough, his movements steady and deliberate under you as you glanced every now and then. You found yourself smiling as you guided him, appreciating how he seemed to take it all in stride, even the mess.

Finally, the dough was smooth and well-mixed, and you placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Okay, that’s perfect. Any more, and you’ll ruin it.”

Ben set the spoon down with a dramatic sigh, shaking his hand as though he’d just finished a workout. “You weren’t kidding about the arm workout.”

You laughed, reaching for the plastic wrap to cover the dough. “See? Baking isn’t just about precision, it’s about endurance. You’d better hydrate if you want to make it to the next round. Maybe take a seat on the bench.”

Ben chuckled, as he watched you wrap the dough in cling film and set it in the fridge to rest. His gaze soft as he admired the way you moved around the kitchen.

“You’re kinda cute when you get all serious about this,” he said, his voice low and warm.

You shot him a playful glare, your cheeks warming. “Focus, Shelton. We’re only halfway there.”

He held up his hands in surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, Chef. What’s next?”

With the dough resting in the fridge, you began tidying up, wiping down the counter and setting out the tools you’d need for shaping the cookies. Ben, however, wasn’t nearly as patient. He leaned against the fridge door, staring at it like he could will the dough to finish resting faster.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “do we have to wait for an hour? Can’t we just… you know, start shaping them now? It's not like we're in an exam, no one's gonna know.”

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the almost puppy-like look in his eyes. “Yes, we absolutely have to wait,” you said firmly, though you couldn’t help but smile at his impatience.

Ben groaned dramatically, dragging his hand down his face and through his curls, tussling them softly. “But why? It’s just dough. It’s not like it’s a steak that needs to rest or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached into a drawer to pull out the cookie cutters. “Because,” you explained, setting the cutters on the counter, “resting the dough lets the gluten relax, which keeps the cookies from spreading too much when they bake. It also gives the spices time to blend together and makes the dough easier to roll out. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

Ben sighed, back again with that sceptical look, before mumbling, “Sounds like a lot of fancy science talk just to make some cookies.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, grinning at him. “But it’s the kind of science that keeps your cookies from turning into sad little blobs.”

He broke into a smile, finally conceding. “Fine, fine. You’re the expert.”

“Thank you,” you said with mock seriousness, giving him a teasing salute before focusing on your setup.

While the dough rested, you busied yourself with preparing the island. You got Ben on an exploration to find a large rolling pin and the cookie cutters, while you dusted the surface and neatly lined up the equipment, spreading them out across the counter as excitement spread through you. There were hearts, stars, gingerbread men and women, Christmas trees, and a few other festive shapes.

Ben watched you work, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. “You love preppin', huh?”

“Always,” you replied, tossing him a smile as you laid sheets of parchment paper onto baking trays. “Baking is all about being ready before the chaos starts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Chaos?”

“You’ll see,” you said ominously, grabbing a canister of flour and sprinkling a thin layer across the island. “Just wait until we’re elbow-deep in icing and sprinkles.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer as you worked. “Oh, that sounds like my kind of chaos.”

Once everything was set up, you took a step back, admiring your handiwork. The counter was clean, floured, and ready to go, with the trays and cutters neatly arranged. Ben, however, was back to pacing near the fridge, occasionally glancing at the clock.

Once the dough had rested, you pulled it from the fridge and placed it on the floured countertop, its chilled surface smooth and pliable under your hands. Ben leaned in eagerly, eyeing the mound of dough like it was a prize.

"Alright," you said, handing him the rolling pin, "your turn. Just don’t go too wild. Nice and even, okay?”

He raised an eyebrow, gripping the rolling pin with an exaggerated flourish. “Nice and even. Got it. I’m basically a pro already.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, stepping back to preheat the oven.

Ben pressed the rolling pin to the dough and began rolling, his movements a little uneven at first. He squinted down at the dough, muttering, “This is harder than it looks.”

You glanced over, biting back a laugh. “It’s not a race, Ben. Just take your time and keep it even.”

“Don’t worry, I understand it now” he whispered, almost to himself, as he shot you a grin. “I’ve got it handled. Gimme a second and this dough’ll be flatter than a pancake.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you prepared the cookie cutters, dipping them lightly into flour to keep the shapes clean.

Once the dough was rolled out to the perfect thickness, you stepped in, lining up the cutters.

“Okay, now for the fun part,” you said, handing him a gingerbread man cutter. “Start with this one. We’ll work our way through all the shapes.”

Ben pressed the cutter into the dough, lifting it to reveal a cleanly cut gingerbread man. He held it up like a trophy, beaming. “Look at that! First try. Told you I’m a natural.”

“Alright, natural,” you said, handing him a Christmas tree cutter. “Let’s see how you do with the next one.”

The two of you fell into a steady rhythm, cutting out hearts, stars, and more gingerbread men and women. Ben found himself holding up each shape, constantly amazed and proud before gently setting the cookies down onto the parchment paper.

As he cut out another gingerbread man, he paused, holding up one of each. “Now, hold on. We gotta make sure there’s an equal number of these two.” He gestured between the gingerbread man and woman cutters. “Gotta keep things fair. Equality and all.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “How very noble of you.”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, though the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. “We’re not gonna have more dudes than ladies on the tray. That’d be unbalanced.”

“Okay, okay,” you relented, humouring him. “Equality it is.”

As the shapes piled up, flour seemed to cover everything and everyone. Ben had a streak of it across his cheek, and you could feel it dusting your own hands, arms, and even your clothes. At one point, he reached across to grab another cutter and left a powdery handprint on your sleeve.

“Ben!” you exclaimed, pointing to the mark.

He glanced down at his flour-covered hand, then back at you, his grin widening. “Oops. Too focused on the task at hand.”

You shook your head, fighting back a smile. Despite the mess, you were both surprisingly focused, working in sync as you filled tray after tray with perfectly cut cookies. The shapes were neat and even, and the dough scraps were rolled back together with care to minimise waste.

“You know,” Ben said as he carefully placed a gingerbread woman onto a tray, “I’m impressed. I thought for sure I’d mess this up by now.”

“You’re doing great,” you said, genuinely impressed by his effort. “See? Patience pays off.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he teased, brushing a bit of flour off his hands. “I’m still not sold on this whole ‘waiting for the dough’ thing.”

“You’ll thank me when the cookies turn out perfect,” you shot back, sliding the trays into the preheated oven.

Ben stood back, surveying the trays of cookies with a satisfied look. “Alright,” he said, crossing his arms. “What’s next? More science lessons, or are we finally gonna taste-test these bad boys?”

“Not yet,” you said with a laugh. “We still have decorating to do. And no, you’re not eating them straight out of the oven.”

“Why not?” he drawled, feigning a pout.

“Because,” you said, placing a hand around his waist, “burnt tongues aren’t fun.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit,” he admitted, as he put his head in his hands, groaning.

“Really? I would've never guessed,” you said dryly, earning a playful nudge from him.

“Alright, what can I do while we wait?” he asked, clearly trying to distract himself.

You handed him a dishcloth and pointed to the floor where flour had inevitably dusted its surface. “You can start by cleaning that up.”

Ben groaned but grabbed the cloth anyway, crouching down to wipe the floor. “Slave labour,” he muttered under his breath, though the smirk on his face gave him away.

“You’re the one who asked for something to do,” you pointed out, crossing your arms as you watched him.

He glanced up at you, his grin widening. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t forget this when I’m a pro-level cookie decorator later.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said with a laugh. “I won’t.”

"You’re on decorating prep duty, babe. No rest for two pros like us.”

“Deal,” you said, as you hauled over the bags of powdered sugar, food colouring, and piping bags from the counters. As Ben wiped down the counter, his movements methodical but still sprinkled with his usual flair, you busied yourself mixing the icing. The clinking of bowls and the soft sound of Ben scrubbing created a cozy rhythm. You glanced over occasionally, catching the sight of him brushing stray flour onto the floor with a sheepish grin.

“Hey,” you called out, pointing a spatula at him. “I saw that.”

He froze mid-swipe, his grin widening. “What? The counter’s clean, isn’t it?”

You shook your head, giggling, and returned to your icing. With a careful hand, you divided the thick, glossy mixture into separate bowls, adding drops of food colouring until you had a rainbow of festive hues: deep red, vibrant green, black, soft white, and even a cheerful yellow.

Ben, having finished the counter, moved onto the floor. “How does flour even get under the table?” he muttered, crouching down to clean up.

“Halo probably helped,” you teased, glancing at the dog, who was padding through the house innocently.

“Traitor.”

As the first batch of cookies began to brown in the oven, the warm scent of spices filled the air. You could feel your shoulders relax as you peeked through the oven door. The cookies were holding their shape perfectly, with no spreading, no cracking.

“Success,” you whispered to yourself, relieved.

Ben stood up, dusting his hands on his sweatpants. “Counter’s spotless. Floor’s… basically there too.” He leaned against the island, watching as you filled the piping bags with icing and lined up the bowls of candy, mini M&Ms, jelly tots, and even icing pearls.

“This is starting to look serious,” he commented.

Ben didn’t wait for an invitation. He reached out, snagging a still-steaming gingerbread man from the tray.

“Ben!” you exclaimed. “It’s hot!”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said through a wince, pulling the cookie back quickly and blowing on it. He took a cautious bite, only to pause, his face twisting.

“Ow!”

You couldn’t help but sigh at the way he pouted, holding the cookie gingerly in one hand.

“I warned you,” you said, stepping closer.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his pout deepening.

Still laughing, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to distract him from his discomfort. When you pulled back, his expression had shifted from a pout to a sheepish smile.

“Guess it was worth it,” he murmured, his voice warm.

You rolled your eyes playfully, taking the cookie from his hand and setting it back on the rack. “You’ll get your turn when they cool down. Patience, remember?”

“Patience is overrated, babe,” he said, but his grin told you he wasn’t serious.

As the cookies cooled, you finished preparing the decorating station, laying everything out neatly. Ben leaned against the counter, watching you with an easy smile. The kitchen felt brighter, and warmer, with the two of you moving around each other in sync. The air smelled of gingerbread, and the promise of creative chaos hung in the air.

Finally, it was time to start decorating. You handed Ben a piping bag filled with red icing and grabbed a green one for yourself. “Okay, let’s see those artistic skills,” you teased.

“Oh, prepare to be amazed,” he said, squeezing the bag experimentally.

The first few cookies were simple, a heart with white trim, and a star with bright yellow accents, but the moment Ben decided to create a gingerbread woman to resemble you, all bets were off.

“Hold still,” he said, squinting at you with a ridiculous level of concentration.

“Ben, it’s a cookie, not a portrait session.”

“Shh. Art takes focus,” he said, holding up a finger up dramatically.

You watched as he gave the gingerbread woman what was supposed to be your hair but looked more like lopsided spaghetti. The face was slightly off-centre, and the dress he attempted was smudged in one corner. When he finally set the piping bag down, he stepped back with a proud grin.

“Ta-da!” he announced, holding it up for you to see.

You stared at the cookie and burst out laughing. “Is that supposed to be me?”

“It’s abstract,” he defended. “You don’t get it ‘cause it’s, like, high-level creativity.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “I think I’ll stick to realism.”

You got to work on your gingerbread man, deciding to return the favour as you made a gingerbread version of Ben, giving him signature curly hair, his big grin, and, of course, his ON tennis kit, complete in black with a bright pink line in its detailing.

When you showed him the finished cookie, his eyes widened, clearly taking it sorely. “Okay, I see what you’re doin’. Showin’ me up.”

“It’s not a competition,” you teased.

“Everything’s a competition,” he said, but the small smile on his face told you he didn’t mind losing this one.

Next, you both decided to make cookies representing the rest of the family. Bryan’s gingerbread man got a blue sweater, Lisa’s had an apron and a pearl necklace, and Emma’s had her glasses and a small, closed-eye smile.

“Think they’ll recognise themselves?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the lineup of gingerbread people.

“They’d better,” Ben said, carefully adding a final swirl of icing to Lisa’s apron. “I put effort into this.”

By the time you’d decorated the rest of the cookies, trees, stars, hearts, and more, the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow through the kitchen windows. The oven was off, the counters were cleared, and the air was filled with the lingering smell of gingerbread and icing sugar. Just as you were cleaning up the last bits of mess, the front door opened, and the sound of laughter and familiar voices filled the house.

“Y’all home?” Lisa called out.

“In the kitchen!” Ben answered, rinsing the last mixing bowl in the sink.

Lisa and Bryan walked in first, carrying shopping and takeout bags, with Emma trailing behind. The three of them paused when they saw the island covered with cookies, their eyes immediately landing on the five gingerbread figures standing together at the front of the spread.

“What …on earth...?” Bryan said, leaning in to examine the cookies more closely. His eyes darted from the gingerbread man with a blue sweater to the one wearing an apron, and his face broke into a grin. “Are these supposed to be us?”

Lisa gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, look at this!” She reached out delicately, picking up the cookie version of herself. “This is adorable, what a sweet surprise! Is that… an apron? You even added pearls!”

“That one’s me!” Emma crowed, pointing to the gingerbread woman with glasses and a massive smile. “I look so happy. Accurate.”

“Yeah, that was intentional,” you said with a smirk, glancing at Ben, who gave you a sly grin in return.

Bryan carefully picked up his cookie, inspecting the details. “Meanwhile all I got was a bald cookie and a sweater. Real funny.”

“You love sweaters, Dad,” Ben teased, drying his hands with a kitchen towel. “Don’t act like it’s not spot-on.”

Lisa placed her cookie back on the tray and turned to you, beaming. “This is so precious. Did you two make all of these today?”

“All day,” you confirmed, leaning against the counter. “We went all out, cutting, baking, decorating. Ben even rolled out the dough.”

“Don’t let her fool ya,” Ben drawled, nudging your shoulder with his. “She was the boss in this operation. I was just the muscle.”

“And the comic relief,” you added.

Emma leaned over the tray, picking up one of the star-shaped cookies. “These look amazing. Did y’all seriously make all these by hand? No, like, premade stuff?”

“Handmade, start to finish,” Ben said, puffing out his chest. “We’re pros now.”

Lisa laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’d say it was worth it. They’re beautiful. I almost don’t want to eat them.”

“Almost,” Bryan echoed, already reaching for one of the undecorated trees.

Ben darted forward, intercepting him. “Hold up! Food first. Cookies are dessert.”

“Who made you the dessert police?” Bryan asked, but he let the cookie go, chuckling as he set it back down.

Lisa set the takeout bags on the counter, and the family gathered around, plates and utensils being passed out as everyone helped themselves to the food. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and teasing, and the cookies remained at the centre of attention, a charming reminder of the day you and Ben had spent together.

Later, Ben stood with his arms crossed, watching his family laugh and talk as they picked out cookies to eat. When he noticed you looking, he gave you a soft, warm smile, the kind that made your chest feel full as he opened his arm to invite you in for a hug.

You walked over to him, settling into his side. “This turned out pretty great, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. He glanced at the tray of cookies again, then back to you. “Today was fun.”

You let your head rest on his shoulder. His arm slipped around your waist, holding you close as the room buzzed with warmth and love.

“Next time,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple, “we’re makin’ gingerbread tennis rackets. I’ve got ideas to workshop.”

You sighed, feigning exasperation before laughing softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “I can’t wait to see how that turns out.”

“Better start stretchin’ my art portfolio now,” he teased, but the look in his eyes was anything but playful, soft, steady, and full of affection.

And just like that, in the middle of his childhood kitchen, surrounded by his family and the lingering scent of gingerbread, you realised this moment was one you’d hold onto for a long, long time.

#Azzie’s Advent Calendar #azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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charbies · 5 months ago

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I'm mashing together my review of totk and reactions to random encounters with the masterworks I've had lately into one stream of consciousness

Totk should have had true continuity, not a 6 year time skip that we never get to see, experience, and feel. It's not that hard to bridge 2 games with a 1-2 min cutscene, esp in a zelda game. Majora's mask starts with quick, but meaningful exposition that bridges OOT to MM! The intro to wind waker is a 6 minute long cutscene!! This series thrives with its detailed, intriguing intros, so what happened?? Before I even launched totk the night it came out, I booted up botw and replayed the final boss & ending because I was so stoked to see the transition in story/world and wanted to honor both games. Instead boom, we're walking in a cave w/ no context.

I was so disappointed that zelda wasn't a companion character to link in totk, it was disempowering to her character arc. Really thought this game would build off of botw's snippets of link & zelda working together in memories. The teasers and trailers for totk gave this perception that she would be there (which would also "break tradition" like devs wanted, ffs). When I was on the tutorial island I was fully convinced I'd be finding her and we'd reconvene like "ok what's next." When I realized 20 mins into the game that she was GONE gone, as in will not reappear likely until the end of the game damsel-in-distress-style, my verbatim thought "wait... really? Is this still going to be good?" Which was kinda sad, for a game I waited so many years for :/

I had major pet peeves with the copy/paste nature of the cutscenes with the old sages. The dialogue, bgs, pacing, literally all identical. They just hot swapped the character models for the sages and said that was good enough, wtf!!! I live for cutscenes in games, I have since I was like 5. This felt lazy, and seriously demotivated me from completing the dungeons bc I knew there was going to be nothing novel or intriguing to look forward to

The secret stones were gimmicky af. Sorry. Also stupid name, they couldn't even opt for "sacred?" Ik in other languages they have way cooler names, which would have helped. Link's fucking thanos glove of stones was a stupid gimmick, I cannot believe they didn't think to alter that concept to be more mythical, or creative, or just original. I would have killed for the stones to relate to the triforce in some way, or to do away with the stones and have this game connect to the triforce, since the whole direction of this story was going back to ancient myth & lore.

the Zonai lacked depth, and honestly just felt like a boring distraction even tho they were supposed to be a central focus of this game. I 1000% agree with other folks posts on the take that rauru was a flat, 2-dimensional colonizer. Sonia got sidelined. yikes. ew. no thanks.

^similarly, ganon really was given no character or depth imo. It's like they did a fantastic job making him visibly LOOK scary, so they didn't bother to give him motives beyond "I'm bad, I do what I want."

the cliche "back to normal" at the end irked me. Link could have come out with no arm, keeping the zonia arm, or at least scars w/ the zonai arm pattern and that would be meaningful. Zelda got factory reset from irreversible draconification in a method that for all intents and purposes, could have been done as soon as link got rewind ability. There was no investigation or inclusion of the other dragons, which seemed like a missed opportunity. Actively working on reversing her could have been a main quest in game!! Like 1. Complete all dungeons/get all stones, 2. you can now go round up the spirits of rauru & sonia and reverse zelda yippee, 3. you and zelda go beat the shit out of ganon together. The dragons fighting was beautiful, powerful imagery, but honestly I think too much potential was traded away just to execute that one fraction of the boss fight.

The masterworks book annoys me, which is sad bc I love concept art. I wanted to be a concept artist growing up, I can accept that you'll often see things that never make it into the final cut. I was enamored with early posts abt things like zelda's haircut, char designs, etc.

But more recently I'm seeing the anthology side of the book taking major liberties that it didn't even bother showing us directly or alluding to in the game, and I think that's such a cop-out. They are literally telling us instead of SHOWING us in the game they release a year ago, and spent SIX YEARS making. There was a festival celebrating the return of zelda/defeat of ganon?? Freaking show us that!!! Show us link & zelda acclimate to post-calamity life. Show us imperfect, non-linear healing and resilience. I would have loved a festival scene w/ link and zelda that conveys the nuance of celebration and recognition of their efforts, and the contrasting weight of what they went through. Show me zelda, exhausted after a festival struggling with guilt and indecision about whether to bring back the monarchy with hyrule's restoration. Throwing in a "oh btw imagine if we actually had done this" post-game makes me so irritated and feral. It's like the post-release canon is sidling up to fanon and saying, "hey look we can do that too! look at our fan art" idk if that makes sense, I don't think I'm explaining it well. But it just feels disingenuous.

I'm not a timeline purest, I don't need everything to interconnect, but I don't love how assertions in this book invalidate connections and lore of other games. Also really don't love how this game overwrites and sidelines the sheikah.

I know majority of my disappointment stems from my own, personal expectations of a game that, let's face it, was probably given many mandates and initiatives to appeal to *everyone* in broad, lackluster ways. I still love the world and characters of zelda, if anything, totk reaffirmed what I love and want to prioritize in my art that I didn't see present in this game. Fun fact I used the world of botw to learn a lot about drawing landscapes & composition. It actually inspires me a bit to try to learn to do comics, which has been a longtime goal I've been too busy and/or timid to pursue lol.

mmm anyway if u read this and any of this resonated DM me and lets froth at the mouth and commiserate lol

#long and spoilery #put my rant under the cut bc I'm so shy about putting out long posts lol #totk

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a-s-levynn · 9 months ago

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Thanks to @corviisquire (and thank you so much for putting up with me so late for you TmT♥) i was lost in digital art land for a hot minute. It has been a while since i did anything even half seriously digitally but it's fun from time and time again. I don't think i'm gonna switch from traditional just yet but i might dabble sometimes. I also want to keep this little guy around and refine his design more some time later, because i got attached 😭♥

#why does tumblr have a need to eat quality.. click for sharpness i guess #levynn tries to draw #creature #creature design #<- even if technically isn't ?

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homeofthemany · 4 months ago

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jack's family & his relationship with kai

the parents in kickin' it as a series are generally not mentioned at all, or they're mentioned for concerning jokes. you can take it as them being somewhat absent depending on which main kid we're talking about, but it likely comes down to kickin' it being a show for young teens that wants to follow other young teens around—not their parents, but other weird wacky adults.

most of what we can gather about each character's family is either said in passing, as a joke, or implied through other things. i think it's fair to say that jerry has some of the more remarkable examples like being raised by wolves [1x03], having too many siblings / cousins to the point where he's being neglected & sleeping in a locker [1x17], you get the idea. but we actually know very little about jack's family & he's arguably the main character of the show.

very long analysis incoming! also i don't remember season 4 very well, so if i'm missing something, whoops. i'm going to drift into some darker territory [abuse, specifically] so if you're triggered by that or are of the "it's a kid show it ain't that deep" opinion, this probably isn't the post for you lol.

again, TW for general discussion of abuse—physical abuse & neglect in particular. it's very light & i don't go too far into detail, but just in case.

jack's parents

going strictly off of canon, jack's parents themselves are only mentioned once or twice. if i remember correctly, "a slip down memory lane" [2x15] is our most direct mention of them [i forgot if they're mentioned in 2x14 when he's about to leave for otai academy lol] because rudy says that they're out of town, having called them after jack gets a concussion and develops amnesia; they don't think it's necessary to head back and take care of him?

it's worth mentioning that depending on their circumstances and where exactly they traveled, they might not be able to make it back in time to help him with his recovery. in real time though, jack probably wouldn't recover in just... 30min-1hr? since memory recovery can take several days depending on mechanism of injury? not even talking about the actual concussion, by the way, which could take longer on its own. but i'm not a doctor lol. so to be fair, last-minute traveling isn't exactly necessary if they truly trust rudy enough to watch him until they get back.

on the other hand, it's odd that they didn't want to stick around to watch him break the world record in the first place, so it makes me wonder if he'd even told them he was training to accomplish that—and if he did, whether or not they chose to leave seaford anyway. at best, jack's parents are vaguely absent, and at worst, they're negligent.

we're also not given any clear evidence on whether or not they're supportive of his martial arts. we can assume that they're at least aware of it since it seems to be a family tradition of some kind ["my family were really embarrassed of kai," - jack 1x19], but they're never really shown to be openly supportive like jerry's family, or initially disapproving like milton's dad until he comes around in the pilot.

we see jerry's family, milton's dad, kim's dad, eddie's mom, & rudy's uncle, but don't see jack's parents once throughout the entire series. the only relative of jack's we get to actually meet is one he has a very negative experience with.

also he literally goes to china for a tournament he'd been "dreaming about since he got into martial arts" without them there to watch his fights. actually all of the kids go to china without their parents!! AND THEY LET THEM GO WITH RUDY LMFAO. but speaking of china!

jack, kai, & their grandfather

...assuming that jack & kai are first cousins. lol.

we know that jack has a cousin who beat the shit out of him two years prior to the episode we meet him in [kai, seen in 1x19 & 3x09], and he also has a grandfather who trained one of the biggest martial arts action stars in the kickin' it universe [mentioned in 1x01 & 1x06; oh, bobby wasabi the character that you could've been].

other than that, we don't have much else to go off of other than his line about his family in general being embarrassed of kai. because of that, i'm going to assume that the fight they had was part of some kind of family event / tournament. with how skilled jack & kai both are, as well as how skilled & respected his grandfather is [assuming he was at least somewhat famous for training bobby], it's not a stretch to assume that training in martial arts is very much a family thing, or at least is highly important to the majority of them too.

to look at jack's relationship with kai, we're going to drift out of canon while looking more towards his grandfather & how they were both trained. this is where the abuse part comes in!

although there is no real canon evidence of this because it's a kids show, i think the idea of jack & kai having a very strict and unforgiving grandfather is a very interesting one to consider. i don't think i have to go into detail here, but i can imagine jack & kai being overworked & overtrained, experiencing a lot of negative reinforcement, & potentially being physically punished for not getting things right or mastering things at the pace he wanted them to. i think he would push them past their body's limits & be either satisfied or disappointed depending on how well they'd perform afterwards.

back to kai, it's interesting to me that jack doesn't talk about his family's reaction to his supposedly devastating loss to kai ["a kid named kai beat me so badly, i gave up karate till i came here," - jack, 1x19].

it seems like kai isn't necessarily considered better than jack despite winning the fight. it would be easy for a kids show on disney to make it a "he won & got all the praise, but he cheated & my family never believed me so i want to prove myself to them / find my own closure" plot, but the conflict between jack & kai is completely personal. their family probably tried to forget the match ever happened, or more likely, regard it as an event that should just never be brought up again because it was so disturbing and / or tragic—or worse, they thought it was disappointing.

kai didn't gain any respect, he just won the fight. in fact, his presumably violent win is what got them cast out in the first place.

jack & kai are childhood rivals who would likely be competing for their grandfather's praise, so as a result, kai takes things too far to prove himself and seriously injures jack during the match that he lost. rather than gain his family's approval, though, kai's display of aggression gets them both exiled; they look down on jack for losing to "someone like kai", while also disapproving of kai's brutal & undisciplined display of power. jack shamefully gives up karate [i have other thoughts about how something like this would traumatize him] while kai continues to train, but now has even less of a regard for maintaining his "honor". if it wasn't about hurting people before, it certainly would be now.

small thing about their match

i'm more interested in how exactly kai won against jack LOL. i feel like there's a certain point where their sensei has to decide "okay, this is going too far", but then again, if we assume that their grandfather was the one to set up the match? ouh. he already wasn't training them in healthy ways, so he might not have bothered to stop them. did somebody step in or was it already somewhat of a dirty match to begin with, just so he could see how far they could push themselves? because neither of those stubborn students would tap out themselves.

after a certain point, i think their grandfather would probably step in but less because of jack's injuries & more because of kai losing his form. we've already established that he trains these poor kids to hell and back so i think that if anything would get him to call the match, it'd be something like that.

in conclusion

hooray, traumatized disneyxd characters! i was going to do a breakdown of "kickin' it in china" here too & what it must've been like for jack to face his past while fighting for his future, but then i realized the post was getting too long lol.

#jack brewer #kickin it #kickin' it #disney xd #having to tag kickin it two separate times for the apostrophe lol

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thefinalcinderella · 1 year ago

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 5 - Declaration (Part 1)

whoa it's been more than a month since i posted here

anyways masamina fans come get ur food

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

The original Japanese is "生者必滅、会者定離", which contains the characters for kai and hanare

These are all traditional Japanese wind instruments

Takamagahara is the home of the gods in Shintoism

An imina is the real name of a noble or deceased person

Previous | Next

The light rain was falling onto their kyudo raincoats.

Minato and Shuu were visiting the kyudojo where Saionji had taught them when they were young. It was the perfect place for intensive training as they could avoid the public eye. But something unexpected happened.

“Please let us join the Saionji school,” the twins Senichi and Manji said.

“I as well. I would very much like to learn from the master of the Saionji school of kyudo,” Seiya said after them.

Saionji’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Oh my, you are all being very dramatic, aren’t you? I don’t have such a sign put up, though. Do you have the approval of your current teachers?”

“Yes, there is no problem.” “Please let us become your disciples.” “Please.” The three refused to budge, their heads bowed. Saionji laughed aloud as he looked at the three round heads lined up.

“I’m not taking any disciples, but let us draw our bows together. It’s a pleasure to have more companions. I welcome you all.”

Seiya bowed deeply, and Senichi and Manji pumped their fists.

First, they swept, sang prayers, read sutras, meditated for three minutes, and did warm-up exercises. Then, Saionji told them to do these things at home next time.

“It has been a long time since I’ve held a bow in front of people, but Fujiwara-kun asked me to do it, so I had no choice but to accept it. Please watch my shooting.”

Saionji went before the targets with four arrows. He raised his bow up high. His eyes were half-closed, similar to the Buddha’s meditative state. The genuine article couldn’t hide his brilliance even when he became old. The rain hid the scenery that should have been visible, even erasing the sounds of people that should have been audible.

The drawn bow overflowed with joy and begged him not to let go yet. The kyudo terms “kai” and “hanare” came from the Last Teaching of the Buddha, “Death is the doom of every living thing, those who meet must part.” (1) The truth that no one could overturn, and a proud statement of will by the archer who accepted his mortality but never stopped walking. The bow and archer were together until the very end.

When the arrow landed at twelve o’clock, just before the target frame, Senichi and Manji let out cries of admiration.

The second arrow landed at six o’clock, also right before the target frame.

The third shot hit the target at nine o’clock, near the target frame once again. At this point, Seiya’s body was trembling. “N-No way,” Senichi and Manji muttered. Shuu and Minato were silent.

For the last shot, Saionji hit the target at three o’clock, the arrow just grazing the target frame.

Minato went to collect the arrows. Meanwhile, Senichi and Manji were still extremely excited.

“It’s difficult just to hit the target, but to hit the target in different directions!? That’s superhuman!”

Unusually, Shuu showed emotion on his face. That was no wonder, since his master granted his disciple’s wish. He was intoxicated with this greatest luxury.

“Aim at the target without aiming, while having the skill to hit the spots he’s aiming at. After personifying a hundred shots, he aims for even higher peaks. Awa-hanshi from Zen in the Art of Archery was able to do the same thing, apparently. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be in this miraculous place.”

“As expected of Shuu’s master. I got goosebumps.”

“It feels like a legend becoming truth, and truth becoming myth.”

Senichi and Manji were speaking enthusiastically, but Seiya felt something like despair.

“I’ve heard about it, but when I actually see it with my own eyes, it just makes me realize how weak I am. No matter how much I practice, I don’t think I’ll ever reach that level.”

When Minato returned from arrow collecting, the five of them sat in front of Saionji.

“My earlier shots are improper, so please don’t copy them. The way of the bow is about perfecting one’s personality and uniting with nature. It is not about hitting a target with arrows. It would be difficult to suddenly free your mind from obstructive thoughts, so the first step is to visualize good form. Believe in yourself and love yourself wholly even if you are hopeless. Then verbalize ‘I can do it’ and fix that into your brain. Your brain will faithfully respond to your words and send commands to each part of your body. If you change your thinking, your body will also change.”

Shuu added, “This is an easy-to-understand example of the placebo effect. If you take a simple nutritional supplement after hearing that it’s ‘medicine,’ your symptoms would recover or be alleviated. It has been medically proven that the expectation or pleasure of a drug activates the part of the brain that boosts the immune system.”

“That’s right. And if we go one step further and follow the voice of our inner soul rather than the voice of our brain, the powers we have as living beings will begin to function. Saying ‘keep at it’ with your heart even when your body is tired will only create an estrangement. Your soul should be telling you that it wants to rest.”

“So, you’re saying that the words uttered by the body, mind, and soul should be the same.”

“We are immature creatures who have not yet matured as humans. It could also be interpreted as saying that we still have room to grow. When we learn to listen to the voices of our inner souls, good situations naturally follow.”

Then, they let out yagoe.

As soon as they released their arrows, they let out a powerful “Yah!”

Minato and Shuu roared without hesitation. It was a lion’s roar. In the other martial arts kendo and judo, one shouted kiai, but this technique had somehow disappeared in kyudo. Seiya, unused to it, was reserved, but Senichi and Manji shouted without hesitation.

“Whoa, this actually feels good.”

Saionji observed everyone’s shooting forms.

“Keep stretching, keep stretching. Yes, that’s perfect.”

“When you reach daisan, your right elbow will remain tense. At kai, the bow hand and sword hand twist, as though wringing a rag.”

They also practiced stretching out their arms and lightly gripping the pillars, then twist their elbows without moving their hands.

After finishing two hours of practice, Minato took out his bento box.

There was takoyaki inside.

“There might not be enough since it was intended for three people. Shuu is around here.”///

Senichi and Manji were glued to Shuu.

“It’s kinda refreshing to see Shuu eating takoyaki in his kyudo clothes.”

“Sen, Man, if you’re not going to eat them, then I’ll have them.”

“Hey, wait, we’re eating them! What, this is really good.”

“They seem to contain the Narumiya family’s secret ingredients.”

“No wonder Shuu loves takoyaki.”

Senichi and Manji devoured them in no time, and Shuu, who was trying to enjoy them thoroughly, stared at the empty bento box.

When they were about to head home, Saionji stopped Minato and Shuu, and asked Seiya, Senichi, and Manji to return home first.

The rain had stopped before they knew it.

The azaleas withstood the weight of their wet petals.

On the scarred floor of the dojo, the long shadows of one man and two boys faced each other.

The sun tilted to the west, dyeing the horizon red, and the sky became a river of deep blue and madder. Purple-tinged clouds dyed by two-colored light flowed slowly along the river. The clouds constantly changed their expressions as they drifted, never remaining in the same shape. Everything returned to the mother sea.

The setting sun gave off its last rays behind Saionji’s shoulders.

“The statute of limitations has already expired. I was hiding something from both of you. In actuality, I told Narumiya-kun’s mother that he was drawing a bow under my tutelage. After the accident, Fujiwara-kun was saddened by the fact that he wasn’t informed of anything. It was a foolish act on my part. I apologize.”

Shuu was ashamed.

“Since Saionji-sensei didn’t say anything, I thought that there must have been some sort of deep reason behind it. I also knew that it wasn’t as though Minato had suddenly lost interest in kyudo.”

Saionji looked into Minato’s eyes and continued.

“Narumiya-kun’s mother once watched a match that you and Fujiwara-kun were in. She told me that she cheered for you both. The promise that you made with your mother has already been fulfilled. Please be rest assured.”

“…Yes, thank you.”

Shuu put his hand on Minato’s shoulder. A faint vibration was felt.

“I guess it was bad of me to keep things a secret… After the accident, I distanced myself from the kyudojo and didn’t contact anyone. Because of that, I made Shuu worry as well. I’m sorry, Shuu.”

“I understand, there’s no problem. I’m glad that your mom was able to watch your shooting.”

He responded by lightly patting Shuu’s hand on his shoulder. Afterwards, something spilled over and wetted his hakama.

Around that time, Kuon, a first-year from Kirisaki, was stretching his legs on a chair. He was watching the footage of the yabusame competition that took place the other day on his phone.

“Fujiwara-senpai, how beautiful you are. In comparisons, how impudent that commoner is!”

On the screen was Minato answering interview questions. Kuon tossed his phone onto the side chair and grabbed several pages of documents.

This was the report from the detective agency.

“Narumiya Minato, born on December 21. Graduated from Kotonoha Elementary School, graduated from Kirisaki Middle School, has a medical history… What, he has such an obvious weakness? This might be useful.”

Kuon uncrossed his legs and stood up. He called for a maid.

“Give this detective his completion bonus. Also, tell him that there are additional requests. The others are incompetent, so keep them out of my sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the maid left, the corner of Kuon’s mouth raised.

The sound of a flute resounded through Yata Shrine.

Gagaku music was being performed to the members of the Kazemai kyudo club, who were gathered in the front shrine. Minato and the others, sitting in seiza, waited impatiently for the moment when the performance would begin.

Gagaku was a form of Japanese classical music, and was a unique art that combines traditional Japanese music and dance with music introduced from the continent. It boasted a history of more than 1,200 years, and many people might have heard it at hatsumode or Shinto wedding ceremonies.

The performers were Masa-san, Ren, and Masa-san’s mother. Masa-san’s mother was in charge of the main melody and played the hichiriki, Masa-san played the shou, and Ren played the ryuuteki. (2) They were all made from bamboo. The hichiriki, shou, and ryuuteki were called the “three pipes,” and the taiko, kakko, and shouko were called the “three drums.” The wagon and biwa were also included at times.

The shou represented the sound of heaven, the light that shined from heaven. The ryuuteki was the sound of the sky, the cry of a dragon that rushed between heaven and earth freely. The hichiriki was said to express the sounds of the earth and the voices of the people, and it was believed that by playing these instruments together, it was possible to create the universe.

“I’ve heard that Western music adopts the rhythm of the heartbeat, and Japanese classical music adopts the rhythm of breathing,” Keyaki whispered to Kanbayashi.

“It’s truly elegant music. It sounds like the divine voice of heaven, or the voice of the sobbing dead.”

Ryouhei and Nanao also joined the conversation.

“It’s not the dead, it’s a cute dragon. Pyuu, hyororororo.”

“That’s the sound of a water whistle. Isn’t it more like fuaan, kyuu, bobobobobobo?”

A shadow descended over Kaito’s face.

“You guys talk too much. Shut up and listen.”

The three girls decided not to listen to the boys’ innocent conversations.

After the performance was finished, Minato ran to the performers.

“Masa-san, may I ask you a question?”

“Is it about the priesthood stuff from the other day?”

“No, that’s not it. A long time ago, I read an explanation book on the ‘Heart Sutra’ after Saionji-sensei told me that I didn’t study hard enough, but there’s a part that I was confused about.”

In Buddhism, there were the “six sense organs,” the “six objective fields of the senses,” and the “six consciousnesses.” All together, they were called the “eighteen components of perception.”

The “six sense organs” were the sense organs humans were equipped with—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind.

The “six objective fields of the senses” were the objects of perception—color, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental presentation.

The “six consciousnesses” were the perception that arose from the six sense organs perceiving the six objective fields of the senses—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, and reasoning.

“The Buddha gave words to the materials and phenomena of this world, classifying them in detail. He also taught that we should abandon our obsessions. But the Heart Sutra says that the organ called the ‘eye’ perceived ‘color’ and perceived it as ‘beautiful.’ So, it’s saying that all of this is just an illusion, right?”

“Yeah, that’s probably the most common interpretation.”

“I also found it strange that the sixth of the six sense organs was translated as ‘mind.’ The others are names of parts of the body, so why is the sixth one different?”

“I can’t answer that right away due to my lack of study, but I think that what the Heart Sutra was trying to convey wasn’t so much the first half, the empty mind, but the second half. If I were the writer, I would put the important points in the conclusion.”

“The ending is an incantation, right? ‘Let’s all chant it together,’ like that. I thought the theme of the Heart Sutra was to learn the truth and wisdom of the universe, wasn’t it?”

“If you cannot attain enlightenment unless you give up earthly desires, then most people would be unable to reach this state. Because wanting to save people is also greed. Heaven wouldn’t give to man useless things. Kukai taught that the desire for food, sleep, excretion, and sex, are all of the status of a Buddha. If the desire to eat and sleep disappear, the survival of living beings is in danger. The Buddhist teaching to abandon greed means ��do not covet, do not go too far.’”

Ren, who was listening nearby, laughed lightly.

“Archers have to learn Buddhism too? Sounds busy. Sorry to interrupt, but I think it’s time to call it a night. Masaki, you have another errand to do, don’t you?”

“Yeah, got it. Sorry, Minato, next time.”

Masa-san hurriedly left the scene. The other members were also preparing to go home. Minato realized that he was the only one left behind and was about to follow everyone else.

Suddenly, he felt something like an electric current near his shoulder blade. He turned around and saw Ren with one finger outstretched.

“You’re a sensitive person, aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“I just put my fingers on your back and sent some qi. Is your sensitivity hereditary? Does it run in your family? Actually, Masaki is also sensitive, even more so than me. He can see and hear all sorts of things. Minato-kun, what is the color of the outside lights of Yata Shrine to you?”

“It’s usually rainbow-colored. I’d say the purple is deeper.”

“To most people, myself included, it only looks white or yellowish. You may be one of those people who don’t realize they have a strong connection to the gods, or in other words, nature. Since both of you are spiritually inclined, you should ask a lot of questions now. That guy may not be back for a while. And I don’t know if he’ll continue coaching at Kazemai.”

“…What?”

“It seems that he found something he couldn’t catch if he didn’t chase it now. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him back.”

“What do you mean, you can’t hold him back?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Ren took off his eboshi hat and put it on Minato’s head, then turned on his heel.

As always, Ren did nothing but tease and didn’t talk about the important parts. To only drop hints and not inform him of anything was too malicious if he was doing this while knowing that it would cause him a lot of stress. It would be fine if it was good news, but that would transform into anger if it was a rejection email.

The sound of the gagaku music lingered in his ears, and the scar on his left side started to itch.

Minato stood there, holding the hat.

One Sunday, Minato was riding his bike.

He was taking a short trip to town to go shopping. He was buying daily necessities for the summer.

The wind caressing his neck felt comfortable. The sky was blue with rising clouds. Flowers were in full bloom in the gardens of the houses he passed, and he saw two cats sleeping snuggled together. A dragonfly was flying parallel to Minato’s speed, but he wondered how far it would follow.

After passing through the crowd, he parked his bike in front of a store. It was a casual clothing store. While looking at the suggestions for coordinated outfits, he proceeded to the department he was here for.

On the way there, someone called out his name.

“Minato?”

“Masa-san.”

“I saw a bike similar to yours in front of the store, but I didn’t think you would really be here. You came all the way here by bike? I thought your house is a long way from here.”

“I also just wanted to ride my bike. There’s a hole in my jeans. Which one do you think is better?”

“Let’s see, you look good in the classic indigo blue, straight-leg style. For the upcoming season, chino shorts would also look good.”

The two looked around the store. They separated for a while and then promised to meet up again at the exit.

Masa-san handed Minato a package.

“If you want, you can take this guy home too. I think it’ll go well with the jeans from earlier.”

“Huh? Oh, t-thanks. Um, actually, I also…”

Minato also held out a gift-wrapped package containing clothes. It was the exact same wrapping, only the color of the ribbon was different. Both people were momentarily speechless.

“We ended up exchanging gifts.”

“Haha, that’s right.”

“Thank you, I’ll try it on as soon as I get home. I’ve also bought some other stuff, so I’ll give them to the other Kazemai members tomorrow. Minato, are you free right now? You can come and pick up the book I was telling you about.”

“Oh, the book that wasn’t for sale.”

Masa-san had come by car, so they loaded Minato’s bike into the car, and Minato sat in the passenger seat. After a while, they arrived at the parking lot of a two-story apartment building. Masa-san’s apartment was a one-bedroom apartment, and it was built not long ago. When Minato first visited, he imagined that Masa-san was living in a four-and-a-half tatami room that was built over thirty years ago. “What kind of image do you have of me?” Masa-san had lamented. There were ornamental plants by the window, Scandinavian-patterned cushions on the couch, and a Shinto altar enshrined on the wall, as expected of a priest. Everything was neat and tidy, but Minato noticed a prescription bag in the corner of the kitchen. What was more, there was something sitting there that didn’t fit the season at all.

“Masa-san, the kotatsu…shouldn’t you be putting that away soon?”

“I was too lazy to clean the kotatsu futon, so I just left it there.”

Masa-san opened the closet and took out three cardboard boxes. He spread his arms out towards them, which looked heavy.

“Search to your heart’s content.”

“Were you tired of searching? Is that why you called me here? That’s what I thought. You’re so lazy.”

He found the book he was looking for when the box was almost empty. After putting it on the table, Minato and Masa-san sat down at the kotatsu facing each other. Their feet were touching, and they both laughed.

Minato was searching for a book titled The Archery Saint Awa Kenzou—The Representative of Heaven, Earth, and Nature by Sakurai Yasunosuke. It was published to commemorate the 120th anniversary of Awa Kenzou’s birth, so it was thick and heavy.

Masa-san slid his long fingertips over the cover, as though caressing something dear.

“Awa-hanshi’s words are difficult to understand unless you have a background in Buddhism, Shinto, or Confucianism, but this book explains the ‘path of shooting’ in detail. Beyond a hundred shots and hundred hits, there are the ‘one shot and expire’ and ‘shari misei.’ Shari misei refers to the inherent manifestation of someone’s inherent Buddha nature or divinity through archery. It involves letting go of negative emotions such as worry and anger, and it emphasizes dantian breathing. He even said that ‘Takamagahara is inside people’s stomachs.’” (3)

“Saionji-sensei told me once to listen to the voice in my stomach, not head. ‘One shot and expire’ is the teaching of ‘you died with a single shot. Now, become a newborn baby.’ So, I wonder if shari misei is growing even further from a baby.”

“In fact, the hundred shot-hundred hit level is the lowest of the five stages called ‘shakai,’ and it’s still at the entry level of ‘learning shooting.’ However, Awa-hanshi says that even if you don’t hit a hundred shots, you can still reach the realm of one shot and expire and shari misei. He also taught kyudo at high schools, and it’s said that he loved young people very much. When his disciples shoot with all their might, he would embrace them and cry with joy.”

“I’ll take my time to read it. …Um, Masa-san, Ren-san said something recently…”

“Did he say something again?”

“Um, something about your eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes are fine. Because I’m living in a place surrounded by so much greenery.”

“That’s right. I also grew up in the mountains.”

It was weird to forcefully ask someone about something they were keeping secret. Nothing was clear yet, so he was sure Masa-san would tell him if it was true.

Minato was about to return the book to where it was before and found another book at the bottom of the box. It was as though it was hidden away. He picked it up.

“There’s a name on this picture book. Maybe it got mixed up with someone else’s book? How do you read this?”

Minato was pointing at a name written in oil-based marker.

It read 玉守正樹.

“It’s ‘Tamamori Masaki.’ My old name.”

“Is it your old last name?”

“I changed it along with my first name. For me, my old name is a cursed name. I don’t really want to remember it.”

Masa-san had a bitter look on his face, which was unlike him.

Just like Ren the other day, these brothers had too many secrets. Minato didn’t care if he didn’t tell him the reason. But, it was too sad that he hated his own name.

“No, it isn’t, right? Iminas were used until the Meiji era, and they were important things that only the lord and his family knew about. The only time someone would tell it to another person is when they are proposing marriage.”*

“…Huh, that’s bad. Seiya would beat me up if he finds out about this. So, can I hear your answer?”

“Answer?”

“Your answer to my proposal.”

“Huh? I-I don’t get that kind of thing.”

“That kind of thing, huh…”

“I’ve never thought about that kind of thing.”

“You’re calling it ‘that kind of thing’ again.”

“You’re a terrible master.”

“Minato, you’re a surprising Urashima’s casket. I can’t even imagine what’s inside you.”

Masa-san chuckled. Apparently, Minato was being made fun of. Ugh, I seriously can’t win against this guy.

Minato stood up.

“I have to go home soon.”

“Shall I give you a ride?”

“It’s okay.”

When he pushed the doorknob, a gray sky spread out before him.

“Oh, it’s raining. I didn’t bring my raincoat today.”

“A rain that’s trying to prevent you from leaving, huh? Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Minato closed the door.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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slothquisitor · 19 days ago

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2024 Fic Wrapped

Thank you to @eraserspiral for the tag! This was fun!

What’s been your biggest learning point this past year?

Mostly that I can still write a lot of words if I'm doing it consistently? I was in such a writing slump before BG3. I've been pursuing traditional publication and had some cool wins but not quite...getting there? And then that on top of some personal life shit kind of broke me. It's been fun to get back to writing and let it be fun again and not something I *have* to do.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I think I've tried out some fun and cool things this year. I wrote HORROR! I wrote an homage to Emily Henry. It was fun to push myself into really different directions, and I think it's made me better or at least I hope so. That's the thing about writing! It's so subjective and difficult to really pinpoint the places where you may or may not be leveling up. But I feel like I grew this year, so I'll take it.

Good writing habits?

Writing every day. Even if I'm traveling or even if it's only for five minutes on my phone before bed, I try to do a little bit. It helps me feel connected to whatever I'm working on, but also I'm the type of person who really struggles with feeling productive without clear goal posts. So, being able to look at actual words on a page helps me feel I've done something, you know? Also just generally reading widely. I think being a good writer is about being a good reader too!

Bad writing habits?

Impatience. I have the same issue with my art. My best pieces are always the ones I didn't rush. I have this like...desire to push things out into the world so that they don't clutter up my head anymore, and sometimes I think that means I'm publishing before things are strictly ready. My goal in 2025 is to do this less. But also, sometimes I'm excited!

Favorite thing you wrote?

Probably What Moves in the Dark though Invisible String is a close second. I loved the overall story of What Moves in the Dark, and I think it's technically plotted better than Invisible String where I was just like...coasting on vibes.

Favorite reads?

She's not on here, but TheWyvernRising is my writing partner, and honestly, her work is severely underrated. She's got a great Ghost AU featuring Halsin and her oc Rowan, plus our OCs are besties in every universe. What else is fanfic for?

Biggest win?

Finishing not one but two longfics in a year! Also, the response to Invisible String genuinely surprises and delights me. Someone called me diabolical, and I've never been more pleased with myself.

Goals for the new year?

Just keep writing things that make me happy. I'd like to maybe return to the original work, but I'm also just like...not pressed about it? I'm having fun and I think that maybe that's enough for right now.

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn’t repeat them 788 times?

Oh god. I overuse a lot of words or phrases and I know it! It just sometimes is hard to notice until I like...reread after posting and I'm like...whoa Sloth...did you use 'gaze' and 'smile' enough? lol

What are you excited for in the new year?

To not have a fic that's posting on a weekly basis so I can return to my chaos gremlin ways. I've been posting a fic update every weekend since Febraury (with a few exceptions), and don't get me wrong...when I'm working on a longfic I need that structure. However, it's nice to get a break from that. I'll probably let myself get too chaotic in a month or two and return to some sort of schedule, but for now, it's nice. I'm excited to keep working on Veilguard stuff too. I don't have any fic plans beyond that right now, but I'm sure the plot bunnies will find me. They always do.

I've been either skiing or painting my house, and I've been very not here. So I'm not sure who has done this....so if you see this and want to participate, consider yourself tagged! <3

#sloth does memes #on writing #super proud of my work this year #very excited to see what's to come #even without specific plans!

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niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian · 2 years ago

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@starrjoy

Another Sonic and Tails headcanon thingie: these two have their unique ways of greeting each other whenever they come home, whether they were gone for a day or only 20 minutes. One of them is what Tails tends to use since it’s his absolute favorite one, the infamous koala hug attack.

For this one, in story form!

Word count: ...idk I literally wrote this in my drafts on here so I have no idea other than it went longer than originally intended 🙃 😅

====

Sonic clutched the bags tightly in his arms as he felt his shoes skid hard against the ground as he got near the porch of the living quarters of the workshop, nearly losing his balance in the process. A fresh coat of slightly, wet dirt now covered the bottom of his sneakers from heel to toe as he walked up the steps.

He hastily wiped his feet on the mat in front of the door, already picturing the complaints he was going to receive about tracking dirt across the floorboards again if he didn't...again.

It's not like Tails wasn’t guilty of it either, he just got at him because he tends to do it the most. Though it didn’t mean that he himself wasn’t fed up with it.

Managing to open the door with his elbow, he shuffled into the living room and dropped the bags onto the kitchen island, quickly catching some of the cans that spilled out of the bag.

"Geez, I swear that bagger was just stuffing all this stuff in here." He grumbled out loud, stacking the cans in the cabinet and putting the rest of the groceries away in a few seconds.

He brushed off his hands and glanced around the room. "Tails? You here, bud?"

There wasn’t any sound of thudding footsteps coming closer to him, or a voice calling out in response, or just any answer at all. That wasn't much of a surprise since he tended to leave the workshop more and more recently to just take a walk and explore the area.

As long as he wasn’t cooped up in his lab all day, that was good enough for him.

He moved to speak into his wrist comm to check in with Tails when his ears perked and heard some shuffling coming from behind him. Turning around, he was mildly surprised to see that nothing was there.

It mildly surprised him due to the fact barely anything could sneak up on him due to the years of training exercises he carried out, though it didn't explain why he was still hearing the shuffling all around him.

Sonic paused and let out a groan. "Oh boy, I hope it isn't another mouse that snuck inside the lab again. That was another whole week of stress that I won't get back." He mumbled softly to himself, rubbing a hand over his face.

What he did hear next definitely surprised him, considering it had been a while since he's even heard it, a few short giggles broke through the silence causing him to freeze and look around the room confused.

"Uh, Tails?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a quick flash of yellow disappears from view near one of the rafters on the ceiling, with that same shuffling noise following suit before it went silent again.

He didn't acknowledge that he saw the kit being bad at hiding, but he knew full well who it was, and the little tradition that they haven't done in a couple of years.

Sonic smirked to himself. 'Oh wow. We're playing this game again, huh? It's definitely been a while. But if it's what the kid wants to do...'

He played along, placing his hands on his hips, and feigned a worried voice. "Oh dear, I wonder where my little buddy Tails is. I just can't seem to find him anywhere!"

Sonic walked around the room, looking around dramatically under the table, around the couch, and into the kitchen cabinets. He audibly let out a sigh and leaned against the kitchen island, placing the back of his hand on his forehead.

"Tails? Oh, where for art thou Tails? My brother? Mi amigo? My honorary pride and joy. Lost forever to where I can never follow him." He kept his voice light and teasing, grinning when it earned him more giggling.

He moseyed on over directly under the one rafter where he knew Tails was hiding and put his arms up in defeat. "Hmm, he doesn't seem to be in here. I guess I was just imagining hearing him this whole time."

A slight creak was heard above him as he waited and braced himself for the attack. "3, 2, 1...."

"Nooo!….not the...koala hug trap…the cuteness…it’s too much for my body to handle..." He fell to his knees and hunched over, wrapping an arm around Tails and purposely squeezing closer to him in the process.

"Koala attack!" Tails yelled and dropped down, flying right into Sonic and wrapping his arms and legs around his torso.

Both of his tails wagged as he nuzzled his head under Sonic’s chin. The hedgehog lets out a groan from the impact, both to add to the part and to that the kid was a bit heavier than he remembered. He decided to suck it up and take it like a man...er, hedgehog.

"I can feel...all my energy depleting....I think I see a light. Mom, is that you?" Sonic fell over on his side, Tails snickered as he continued to hang onto him. "Goodbye cruel world....I'll miss you."

He finishes by rolling over on his back, closing his eyes, and lolled his head to the side, finalizing his "ultimate death." He stayed silent for a moment before he felt Tails shift around on his chest and felt a finger poking at his cheek. He peeked an eye open and saw him beaming a wide smile at him.

"Hi."

"Well, hi to you too." He poked a finger to Tails' nose, switching to giving a scratch behind the kit's ear. "So, mind explaining why you decided to ambush me like a crazy maniac today?

Tails laid his head back down, deeply enjoying the ear scritches. "Nope."

Sonic chuckled. "OK then." He placed his head down in turn and stared up at the ceiling.

After a few moments, Sonic cleared his throat, making Tails look up at him. "You uh, gonna let me up anytime soon? I gotta get dinner started soon."

Tails shook his head, the playful gleam shining in his eyes. "You know the rule in order to escape the hug trap, Sonic, unless you wanna be stuck here forever you gotta pay the toll."

Sonic gave out a little hum. "Actually, I change my mind, I kinda want to be stuck here. The floor is pretty comfy."

"But what if you need to use the bathroom?"

"I'll just crawl on the floor and take you along with me."

He heard Tails give a snort in amusement. "Yeah sure, you barely go in there to take a shower."

Sonic gave a hard flick to his ear, "Says alot for the guy hugging me in a death grip right now."

"Shut up, I know my limits to your body odor and this is a mere exception. Besides, you still need to pay the release toll."

"Oh right, the toll," Sonic pauses, pretending to be clueless. "Uh, what was it again?"

"You already know what it is."

"Do I now?"

Tails sighed lightly, trying to sound like he was annoyed. "Yes!"

"I do? Huh, I don’t seem to recall what it is-."

"Sooniiiic.."

"OK, Alright. One toll payment coming up." He sat up and wrapped his arms around Tails, resting his cheek on top of his head. The kit in turn squeezed his hug tighter, letting out a laugh as Sonic began to quickly rock their bodies side to side.

"Was that a good payment for ya?"

"Oh yeah, totally worth all those overdue bills you've been ignoring." Tails said lightly.

"Ah, speaking of which, I still have one more from this morning I haven't paid for. Better late than never!" He finishes by pulling him closer and wrapping him in a even tighter hug, a one where Tails could barely move his arms.

"Ow! Okay, you paid your debt! That's too tight!" Sonic released him and watched as Tails held his sides seemingly in pain.

Sonic got up and looked at him, slight panic rushing in upon seeing him. "You good?"

"I think you nearly broke my ribs." Tails croaked out.

"Sorry." He gave him a sheepish smile as he helped him up the floor, giving him quick, side hug, a gentle one this time and ruffling the fur on his head. "You wanna help me get dinner started?"

"Sure," Tails went to stand up, stopping midway and a deep frown suddenly masked his face. "...Sonic?"

Sonic flinched at his sudden change in tone. "Yeah?"

"You didn’t wipe your feet when you came in, didn't you?"

"Oh my gosh-, don't start with that again please." Sonic groaned as Tails began his annoying tangent. "I actually did it this time."

"I can see the tracks of water leading from the grass outside to here! I keep telling you, just wipe your feet at the doormat!"

"I was carrying the groceries in!"

"That's no excuse Sonic! You know how hard it is to mop up these floors!"

Sonic began to back away, holding his hands up. "Well I did, and just for the false accusation you're not getting the dessert I bought tonight."

Tails' eyes widened, his mouth open agape. "What?!? That's not fair!"

"Neither is falsly accusing your brother for a crime he didn’t commit."

"It's not false accusation if the proof is right in front of your dumb-dumb face." Tails deadpanned.

"Annnd, now that's no mint candy of any kind for a week."

"Sonic!"

"Do you want me to make it a full month?" He tried to have his "serious" face on while saying it but the sour look on Tails' face made it rather difficult and cracked up rather quickly. Tails stood there flabbergasted upon seeing him suddenly burst out laughing, a faint blushed warmed up his face once he realized what was going on. Typical Sonic, he should have seen that coming.

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Love you too bro."

#I just played the scenario out in my head and it brought a smile of my face so much I had to share it #and yes it's KINDA based off that one thing from Steven Universe that Garnet and Steven did that was pretty cute #if you seen the show then you probably know what I'm talking about #but yeah I had to make it wholsome for these two cause they deserve it damn it #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wstw #unbreakable bond #they’re brothers your honor #sonic & tails #wsatw headcanons #it sorta is a headcanon so I'll label it as such

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quokkaholic · 2 months ago

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Playlist🖤h.j

Warnings: cussing, drinking, (will update as I write more. Pls lmk if I miss anything)

Synopsis: tehe fmc meets Han in a bar after a long day exploring Seoul. They hit it off (of course) and Han is a bit tipsy and playful 🤭

Chapter 2

Crazy Sexy Cool

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You’re only spending the two days in Seoul before spending five days in the South Korean countryside to really experience nature and get an idea of what it’s like outside of the big cities. Despite the less than ideal sleep, you still force yourself to wake up early and swiftly get ready. Since it’ll be in the upper 70s you decided to go with a pair of dad length denim shorts and a well fitting tank top but a long sleeve button up over it. You rush through all of your personal hygiene. Though there isn't much hair to style, you still grab some wax and warm it in your hands before tousling your hair going for that hot and messy look. You do your go-to makeup brown, blended out eyeliner, mascara, eyebrows, lipgloss and throw the gloss in your tote for reapplication later along with a trucker hat and sunglasses for emergency accessorization.

You're out the door in under 20 minutes, grab some convenient store breakfast, and a quick train ride before beginning your day at Gyeongbokgung. You relish the unique architecture and fill your knowledge gaps you have about Korean history. you logically visit changdeokgung next before heading to Seong-dong to eat, shop, but mainly just wander around. You, of course, end up spending waaaay too much money on souvenirs for your friends and family but mostly yourself. You walked away with two t-shirts, magnets, art prints, soju, and an absolute shit ton of k beauty products, most of which you have no idea what they are or do. Luckily I’ve got a large, mostly empty tote that fits it all with a bit of room to spare.

You haven’t gone on a night out once since I’ve been here, and you know the nightlife culture is really important here. You decided to ask the front desk worker this morning for any recommendations near where you’d be today. He said there’s a good bar that was about a fifteen minute walk straight left from the station you were getting off at, and that is traditional while still catering a bit towards tourists. He called it “a good middle ground” which sounds perfect to you. You're going to struggle enough outside of the city, you’d like your interactions here to be a little less stressful. The desk worker said you’d know the place by the statue of a komainu outside. A short walk in the direction he instructed and there it is, a miniature version of the same lion dog you saw earlier at the palace outside a busy establishment. You came here to avoid embarrassment but when you walked in, god if everyone didn’t stop and stare. Fuck. you're the only obviously foreign person here. Can’t back out now you're already inside.

I found a seat at the bar and waved the bartender over and attempted the best you can to order a somaek. You can feel your face heating as you stumble through it and when you finish and look back up at him, he’s smirking but says nothing. Did you fuck that up? Did you say something offensive? He waits just long enough for you to start apologizing before he asks,

“Any specific flavor of soju?”

In perfect fucking English. your head slowly falls to rest on the table in front of you before meekly responding

“Peach please”

The bartender walks towards the beer taps on the other end of the bar and takes a few more orders on the way. While that was slightly mortifying you, kind of appreciate the tone he’s set. While waiting for your drink you finally feel calm enough to take in your surroundings while trying not to look at any other patrons so as to not garner looks back. The air smells of yummy food and of course the bready scent of beer mixed with a bit of sweat that is inevitable in a busy bar. You're able to hear K-pop playing at a pretty low volume to facilitate conversation but also fill any silence. You discreetly try to look at the song but there’s too much noise that your phone can’t single out the song. The bartender makes his way back to you with a beer and two shot glasses.

“Do you want to buy the whole bottle? It’s cheaper than individual shots” he asks

“Oh uh sure. Thank you,”

You’ve had soju before so you know you like it. Really like it. you can't get too crazy tonight; you have stuff to do and places to see tomorrow.

“Can I please get some water as well and what song…..was that?”

Your words trail off because before you can finish your sentence he has walked away to fulfill the request. He’s obviously too caught up in his work flow which you can't blame him for at all. Soon the man next to you turned towards me. He’s stunning with big cheeks and a pouty bottom lip. His hair is wavy, styled perfectly executing the messy look you were going for.

“It’s Crazy Sexy Cool" by ASTRO. It’s a good song right? You know what you’re doing?”

He asks, pointing to your drinks.

His signature Asian flush and flood of responses cause you to giggle.

“The fact that you ask means probably not.”

He smiles back at me.

“I’m Han. Here let me teach you!”

He grabs the soju and the two shot glasses you had unstacked and re-stacks them.

“You pour to the line”

He shakes the soju bottle to create a vortex within the bottle and you can't help but watch intently. He unscrews the bottle and before pouring the half shot he makes a V with his fingers and hits the neck of the bottle to splash you with a little bit of the liquor. It hits you right in the face. your hands fly up to your face in a delayed reaction. your reaction seems to sober him and he quickly places the bottle down, hands you a napkin, and starts apologizing.

“I am so sorry! I don't know why I did that. Are you o…”

He stops his spewing of apologies when you move your hands from your face. He sees that it might’ve looked like crying for a moment, but you were in fact cracking up. His worry disappears as fast as it arrived. You wipe you face with his napkin.

“I’m totally okay! You just startled me!”

You say through your settling laughter. He resumes his presentation as well as signaling to the bartender that he would like one of the same.

“Are you sharing the soju or do you want your own?” The barkeep asks Han. Before he could answer you couldn't help but chime in.

“We’ll share! I shouldn’t drink this much anyway!”

Han’s eyebrows raise in shock again but he quickly hides it and simply thanks me.

He adds a shot of your soju to his own beer and shows you how to hit the chopsticks to create bubbles and mix the cocktail. You notice he turns away to sip his drink, and you copy his actions. The somaek is better than you would've thought.

“You’re here alone?” He asks

“Yeah! I’m on a solo vacation. Are you here alone?” yourespond.

He goes to say no and turns to his side but that seat is empty.

“I guess so! What’s your name? You’re from America?”

“I’m y/n it’s a pleasure to meet you! Yeah I am from the southern US!”

“South US” he repeats “like Texas?”

“To the east of Texas, but yeah you’ve got the right idea. I imagine you live here?”

“Sometimes” is all he says which leaves you a bit confused. He continues,

“I travel a lot for work.”

I can sense him starting to retreat into himself a bit, but you have to ask.

“What do you do for work?” you question. It feels like he’s about to end the conversation when he says “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

He turns to take a big gulp of his drink.

“That’s totally okay; I don’t have to know!”

It really is totally fine for him to set a boundary with a stranger, but you're so quick to dismiss his secrecy, because you desperately want to keep talking. He again seems surprised by your response and puts his empty glass down. He flags the waiter and speaks to him in Korean. You gather by the bartender's actions that Han ordered more beers for us.

“I haven’t even finished this one!” It’s not truly an objection, just a statement about not being quite ready for the next drink.

“Well hurry! He’s already on his way back!” he says with faux urgency and a cheeky grin.

————————————————

A.n yay we met Han and he’s a total cutie. I def don’t have an upload schedule or anything but when inspiration calls we listen

-mo 🩷

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Masterlist

#han jisung #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #han jisung x reader #han jisung fanfic #skz fanfic #Spotify

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