#learn how to fly kite

[siriaeve]

Over the years, Nicky had learned that one of the foolproof methods for tracking down a misplaced Joe was to go in the direction of the nearest hubbub. The technique worked this time, too. Nicky rounded a stand of flowering lavender bushes to find Joe surrounded by what seemed like every child in the park, all of them chattering and laughing at once. Joe's beanie was threatening to slip off his head, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and he was fiddling with the frame of a very large kite. It was striped in every colour of the rainbow, and its tail was decorated with clusters of gold and silver paper streamers.

Nicky hadn't expected to find both Joe and a kite, but his husband was a man of many surprises. Since this particular surprise didn't seem to involve blades or fire or a battalion of soldiers—or, to be fair, the sudden acquisition of a dozen goats or a carpenter's workshop or a sloop called the Eileen—Nicky decided to stand back and watch as Joe finished the repairs. It was one of the pleasures of Nicky's long life, to admire Joe in moments like this: lit up from the joy of accomplishing some small thing, fingers deft and eyes bright. He smiled to himself.

The day was windy. When Joe tossed the fixed kite up in the air, the currents caught it almost at once and a great cheer went up from the children. The gilt streamers on the kite's tail sparkled in the sunlight. Nicky found himself tilting his head back to admire it as it soared. Joe stood there a little while, making sure that his repairs held and that the older kids now had a better sense of how to fly the thing without damaging it, before handing around some coins and then jogging back to Nicky. He was followed by a chorus of thank yous and bye, Mr Yusufs.

"Sorry, sorry, it got caught in a tree," Joe said, pressing a kiss to Nicky's cheek. "I had to get it down and help them. No kite left behind."

"Of course," Nicky said, nodding. "And the money?"

"Well, I couldn't let them fly a kite without having an ice cream afterwards," Joe said, tugging his beanie back down properly on his head. A little tuft of dark curls hung down over his forehead regardless. "That wouldn't be right!"

"It would be a terrible violation of tradition," Nicky said solemnly, as if they hadn't broken as many traditions as they had outlasted or invented in their time together. He took Joe's hand in his as they walked away. "And I suppose we cannot violate the other great tradition, either."

"Which one is that?" said Joe.

"The noble repairer of a kite must be rewarded for their work with an ice cream of their own."

Joe dimpled. "A '99?"

"One with two Flakes stuck in it," Nicky promised, and Joe laughed.

And over their heads, the kite soared on: a splash of glorious colour against the noonday sky.

[krispycreamcake]

Laito Sakamaki bf headcanons♤♤

🃏- Ok so uhhhhh let's all just be honest with ourselves

🃏- I really really do enjoy his character and its development, but this man would not exactly be the best boyfriend

🃏- Obviously all diaboys have their extremely toxic flaws, so I'm gonna be as unbiased as I can and give him a worthy depiction

🃏- Depending on your personality and how you've acted towards him, I see him as someone who usually seeks out your comfort in trying times

🃏- It's moments like these where he's so unaccustomed to being vulnerable that he'll have a slight panic attack that you'll betray him

🃏- Luckily however, the more your relationship grows, the less that feeling will be there, but it will definitely take time

🃏- He's definitely asked you to shower with him multiple times, but for different reasons

🃏- Like sometimes he's genuinely so at peace to finally be naked and not hate himself after, or to share something so intimate with you that isn't sex

🃏- Let's be real, sex isn't something special for him, it's just a regular Saturday night

🃏- But knowing that he gets to share it for the first time in his life with someone who he feels safe around, is something he can get behind

🃏- Has you sit on his lap while you both do crossword puzzles together

🃏- Doesn't seem like the type who enjoys making big meals, so he prefers to take you out to eat if it's a special occasion

🃏- Honestly loves talking to you late at night(?) Or morning or whatever it is

🃏- He enjoys the honesty of the conversations and the fact that he doesn't need to see through you, you're just reading to him the pages of your mind

🃏- Watches shows like NCIS, Law and Order, Dexter, etc. He begssss you to watch it with him and catches you up to speed with the episodes

🃏- Realistically, he doesn't always want to cuddle and be in your space. Some nights he just needs time alone for whatever reason and teases you when you get lonely

🃏- Extremely clingy when he's having a hard time keeping his mask on so he tries to play it off as just his normal behaviour (if you know him well enough, you'd immediately catch on)

🃏- Give him well thought out gifts and he'll start planning your future together

🃏- Talks about growing old together and having kids

🃏- Speaking of, you're not dying to old human age on his watch. Whether you want to become a vampire or not, he will turn you into one, you are not leaving his side

🃏- Dry ass texts when he's fully awake and long ass convos when he's about to pass out

🃏- Helps you learn how to play sudoku but will purposely give you wrong tips the first time around so he can flaunt how good he is

🃏- Doesn't understand why you like it when he wears his glasses and insists he looks like an otaku

🃏- Late night walks away from the manor so you both can moon gaze and enjoy the serenity of nature

🃏- One time when Ayato bit you, you insisted that instead of causing drama, he try something more civil (He put laxatives in his Gatorade before a basketball match against another school)

🃏- Also on a related note, really enjoys pranking you and encourages you to prank him back

🃏- For some reason I can imagine him getting really into butterflies and their anatomy. I personally think he has his own sketchbook where he draws them and makes notes on the different species

🃏- Loves to fly kites, he does not care whether you're with him or not, will fly a kite because why not

🃏- Watches mukbangs with you and even chooses the next couple videos

🃏- Jokes about you starting an OF, but had a nightmare that your dream partner found you and whisked you away from him like a prince in shinning armour

🃏- He enjoys playing hand games with you. Yeah idk why I thought about this but it seems to fit

🃏- Enjoys seeing you wear modest clothes. Not because he's picturing the underneath, but he knows you're gorgeous because you can pull being modest AND being naked off

🃏- Wants a Shiba Inu as a pet someday

🃏- He really tries to love you even if he does hurt you from time to time

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Prologue

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader Summary: You ran.

It's what you did in life. It's all you knew how to do. You ran, ran, and kept running and never stopped, because if you stopped, it meant you were trapped, chained, a bird with shredded wings in a gilded cage.

So, how did you end up here, tucked away into a little village in rural Japan, falling into the depths of two black holes with no way to escape?

How could you run from this? From them?

…Would you? CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: this is just the prologue chapter, sort of exposition. No bois in this one (technically), but I'm posting chapter 1 at the same time as the prologue. As a heads up, my most comfortable place for posting my longer fics like this is ao3. You can find more of my blurb thoughts on there. I'm not the best at tumblr posting, so forgive me pls ;-;

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2

WC: 9.4k

You’ve always likened yourself to a kite, but less pretty and enjoyable.

Every time you glanced at a kite in the children’s toy section, or watched as thousands flew in the sky during festivals, your eyes stung and something bitter and uncomfortable twisted in your gut. In a way, you saw yourself in them; fragile little creatures tethered to the earth by no fault of their own. So easy to snap – to break.

They were always trapped, chained down, forever bound to either get reined back in after one had their fill of fun, or to fall like tragic angels to the ground when the winds died, and they would once again be unable to travel free amongst the stars where they belonged. All thanks to the threads wrapped around their very bones, far too strong for something that looked so thin and prone to fraying.

Yet nobody ever did release the chains. Who would willingly free their prized, imprisoned bird?

Of those pretty, unfortunate kites, you lamented with them. 

You, too, were pinioned to solid ground. Your wings were clipped, feathers torn from flesh one by one until you were born in a body that could no longer fly. Responsibilities, duties, relationships – they all kept you drowning in a suffocating pile of down-stuffed pillows, filled with plumes that were once yours. They progressively got heavier and heavier, locking your limbs between illusions of comfort and safety, sitting on your chest and flooding your mouth until you choked and gagged and couldn’t breathe.

You were different from kites, sure, beyond the very obvious things. You weren’t a pitifully flimsy, inanimate toy, left forgotten in some closet, awaiting the one day you’d be remembered, taken out, and allowed to taste the breath of deities themselves again. But if you could glide in the wind like they could, oh, nothing would bring you more joy, more solace, even if you were still tied down. All for just a kiss of freedom.

You ached to be detached from everything and everyone. An untethered kite, a fledgling bird learning to fly, a paper lantern that glowed its very joy from within for all to see.

Paper lanterns.

You couldn’t stand paper lanterns, because you yearned so deeply to be one. How wonderful it would be to have a warmth alight inside you as you rose to the heavens, lighter than air. 

You envied them. 

They made you nauseous with longing.

They made you want to stretch your fingers high and try to catch one within your palm like a cascading star.

They made you want to reach your fist past your throat and rip out your heart barehanded, just to make the accursed thing stop pounding so goddamned hard in your stomach as it sank lower and lower with each additional candle that got to join their family of stars beyond celestia. 

Because, for fuck’s sake, you belonged up there, too. Free, flaring, blazing and flickering so spectacularly that philosophers would wax poetic about you for ages to come.

It wasn’t fucking fair for you to be stuck on Mother Nature’s spine like this, burdened by the neutron star in your body that just grew more and more dense, urging you to dive into the ocean and let it snare you into its depths. You didn’t choose to spawn with a spirit disconnected from the flesh that acted as its prison, you didn’t choose to be jailed like this.

So, why?

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you were drawn to kites. You pitied them. You pitied yourself.

You weren’t a kite. You didn’t want to be one, to have your boundless form fettered down. But when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, that’s all you could ever see staring back at you. A kite with faded, worn out paints that barely clung to the tattered paper, feebly held together by thin strips of bamboo that had been aged and mottled from the inside out by time.

You hated paper lanterns. You hated kites. You hated yourself.

As the years dragged on, from the moment your brain snapped into your body with the sudden realization that you were a conscious, living, breathing person, those ugly feelings festered and spread like a fungus that refused to abate even a trace, just a second so you could catch a breath of fresh air that didn’t reek of mildew.

The seconds spanned on for eons without prejudice, destroying your cells at the molecular level with each passing birthday that trudged reluctantly along.

In the back of your mind, the sensation of being asphyxiated by your own feathers that had been shorn away from you etched itself deeper and deeper into your psyche. You became restless, antsy, the variegated world around you fading rapidly. Colors you once saw as a child, before you could latch the inherent sense of wrongness in your chest to a concept, gradually dulled until all you were left with was a world tinged heavily in gray.

The streets you were raised on grew denser, despite the amount of people living on them never actually changing noticeably. The verdant grass of your backyard turned into a dominating presence everytime you laid your eyes on it, unruly and all-consuming, demanding an undivided attention you did not want to give. The orange beams that hung over black asphalt instilled a sense of panic in you that wasn’t there before. 

You used to be fond of walking around your neighborhood in the middle of the night, when you rightfully should have been sleeping. An inverted circadian rhythm suited you well when you were young, unaware that the crushing sensation under your sternum would only get worse. 

Now, though, the thought of straying out where there wasn’t enough light to see straight ahead made sweat form on your chest and palms while your teeth clattered from a nonexistent chill.

Everything caved in on you. Not in a rush, not in a cataclysmic flood. No, you didn’t discern you were fighting for air until you were already gasping fruitlessly. Lost, terrified, unsure, you could only bear witness to the collapse of your own mind.

Then, one day, a soft voice whispered in your ear.

Run.

It wasn’t a threat, not some ominous warning of death looming over your shoulder. It was a suggestion, an offering, an olive branch towards that freedom you coveted. It was salvation. 

Who were you to ignore the hand of deliverance?

The first time you changed your scenery, moved elsewhere, even if it was only a few streets away from your childhood home, felt incredibly liberating. After so long that you had forgotten how it felt, you got the chance to gulp down air as if you had surfaced from beneath the perdition sea after spending your whole existence beneath it. 

Color returned to your world, excitement formed anew, everything felt right. Achromatic wastelands turned into kaleidoscopic meadows, fulgent and lucid. You savored it, reveled in it, frolicked and danced and lived.

…It didn’t last. 

Not long. You exhaled, and it all vanished, sand swept away by an uncaring and spiteful hand.

Once you had become used to the environment, when you no longer had to actively remember where your flat was, or how long it took to get to the store, everything was washed out; water dumped on a painting that had yet to form defined shapes.

That crushing sensation had returned, and with it the reminder that, as much as you wished you weren’t, you were a kite. Tethered, perpetually confined, worn bamboo strips and thin paper threatening to rend under the drag.

Thus, you ran again. A new town, a new city, a new skyline. Euphoria nestled cozily under your breast like a second heart, purring contentedly as it curled up on the nest of blankets it created for itself.

New places, new faces, new people. All of it was fascinating to you beyond measure. It interested you to no end to learn about other human beings; their thoughts, their perspectives, their preferences. What they despised with grit teeth and barely restrained anger clenched in trembling fists; what they loved so dearly that they could never drown beneath the same waves that followed your heels, tide rising progressively. 

They glowed from within, bright and budding and vibrant. Their eyes flickered with life, glazed so clearly that stars sparkled in the depths of their hues. You were drawn to them, a moth to mesmerizing fire.

You felt free. You rode that high as much as you could, for as long as it would allow.

Until a realization struck you with the force of a bullet train one night. A man hung onto your arm, easy laughter shared between the two of you as you let him take you home. Alcohol tinged his breath, but not enough to give him anything more than a slight buzz. He was a total gentleman through and through, and you listened with eagerness as he spoke about his upcoming work project, his excitement palpable with every word. 

His hand linked with yours, fingers intertwined, his warm palm engulfing yours. There was a comfort in that transient window of time, one you held to your heart. It was so unfamiliar, so addictive. And as you stopped before your door, having completely forgotten of your lack of wings, you waited with bated breath for him to slant into you.

A pair of infirm lips, minutely chapped and tasting of wine, pressed against yours, and dread exploded in your gut.

He pulled away from you, lovestruck in the way his eyes shone as he looked into your own, and reality crashed down on you with horrors in three measures, shattering like broken glass in the vortex of your conscious thought.

When you stared at him, watched the way he opened his mouth to speak, you made the connection.

“I really like you,” he had murmured to you that night, nearly shy. Yearning. Hoping.

Paper lantern.

“I want to ask you out properly.”

Tether. 

His words sank into your skin like ice, digging deep, burrowing into your marrow.

Kite.

The illusion of pellucid skies of the richest shades cracked, the lush plains you fantasized of often turned to barren heaths, and all those tormenting feelings came back to choke your breath with a vengeance. Sickly fingers wrapped around your throat, sunk into your mouth, dug past your gag reflex, wrapped around your ankles and wrists until you could barely lift your feet just to move forward. 

You remembered with great disdain what you were. You had managed to sever your thread by running off from the pod you were born in, but it wasn’t a clean cut. The string hung off your fragile wooden bones loosely, just waiting for somebody to grab and yank, to shred your freedom away from you once again, to leave you knotted around a pole to sit like decoration and stay.

You were not free.

You were not a paper lantern. You did not gleam from your soul like he did. You did not pour light from your heart and words and touch.

You’d do anything to forget that, to prove that sentiment wrong, to show the world that you weren’t a rock thrown into a pond. You’d do anything to change the narrative, to force a rewrite. So, you did what you always did.

You ran.

You found somewhere else to live, blipping off the radar unannounced. One moment you were there, the next you had cut your lingering thread an inch shorter, following the wind blindly like a duckling to your next destination.

Each time you settled down somewhere, you had this silent hope: maybe this is where I’ll be happy.

You clung to that hope, fervently ignoring the screeching whisper in your ear that said otherwise. The next place was never the final one. It never would be, no matter how hard you tried to delude yourself into believing you weren’t a lost soul, unable to move on. Some pathetic ghost you’d make, if you weren’t one already.

Whenever you let yourself rest for a heartbeat too long, the rope you had trimmed ever shorter was skimmed too close by too-warm fingertips, and you fled again, and again, and again.

That’s all you seemed to know nowadays.

Perhaps proven now, as you sat on a train in a foreign country, absentmindedly watching rural landscapes race past the window. Your knuckles pressed indents into your cheek, the sensation unpleasant and nearing on painful, though you had stopped paying any mind to it a while ago. Your thoughts laid scattered at your feet, and you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up.

Rather, the white matter of your brain was being filled with the empty, buzzing tune of songs you’d heard a hundred times over playing through your earbuds at the loudest volume possible. It made things easier to manage during this grand, several-thousand-mile-long trip. The less thinking you had to do, the better. It was the absolute last thing on your bucket list, loitering just under the cutoff line, hoping to sneak in a few words you refused to listen to.

You couldn’t let yourself regret this. You wouldn’t.

Not now, not after you’d already dropped everything and dissipated beyond the welkin’s gaze. You had only one place you could go to at all now, and you were already on your way there.

So if you had to blast your eardrums out to bridle the whisper-shouting voices spurned by overthinking, so be it.

Rice paddies blurred by, blending in from one farm to the next. The sun reflected off the waters the stalks soaked in, absorbing the warmth the light provided and feeding the plants with the fruit of life. Somewhere along the way, you had begun counting each field you passed for no particular reason.

You thought it’d lull you to sleep like counting sheep, subconsciously desiring to sink into a dreamless abyss and catch up on the hours that had been eluding you every night for months up to this point, given how far away you still were from your destination. But your cerebrum was not kind to you, and your body refused to succumb to the tempting allure of nothingness.

Thus, you remained as you were, counting paddies as the day never quite moved forward. The sun dwelled high, trying to glare down on you, but it couldn’t get the angle right to invade the shade of your tiny cabin room on the train.

It stayed stuck to the center of the sky, mighty and proud. But then, after what seemed like only a few seconds, you blinked, and suddenly it was hanging off the horizon’s ledge.

With a slight jolt, you realized the train had decreased in speed, and was continuing to lose momentum as it approached an isolated station, all alone in the countryside. You checked the time on your phone, your eyes feeling unusually heavy and sticky. It was only early night, but you were worn down to your sinew.

Right. Jet lag. You had hopped on a plane and traveled to the other side of the planet on a whim, another desperate attempt to grab onto the concept of freedom you craved. It didn’t take you longer than a week to find a small house deep in the pastoral lands of Japan, where mountains wrapped around the valley like a scarf. You chose Japan, if only because you learned the language when you were studying abroad some years ago.

It resided in a town of such a low population, blissfully around 600, it was a wonder you could even find a train that took you this far to begin with. Of course, that meant the house was decently rundown, with a community small enough to consider it unnecessary to repair. You couldn’t care less. All that meant to you was that it was cheaper to buy it outright than rent a more maintained structure. Buying it was a risky move, given your track record of up and ditching the last bed you slept on without any hindrance, but, at this point, you were tired.

You just wanted to be somewhere for longer than a month or two. Maybe owning a house was contrary to your desires to be unbound, with no board to pin your tattered and thin wings to, sure, the pros far outweighed the cons.

Cheap shelter, little to no people, far, far away from anywhere you’d been before. Three for three.

It’d still be a 45 minute drive or so before you actually got to your new residence, but you weren’t in any particular rush. You chose the most isolated place on purpose. Less people, less deafening sounds, less claustrophobic, brutalist structures that loomed higher and higher.

Less chance of being tied down.

With a hiss and a loggy wheeze, the train settled into place, jostling you as you got to your feet and stretched your arms above your head. The muscles in your back and shoulders twinged from sitting in the same position all day, and your legs stung like sparklers, but it was nice to work your joints properly again. After tucking away your phone and earbuds, you tugged your luggage down from the overhead rack with a grunt.

You were hopeful that there’d be taxis outside the station, and that you wouldn’t have to walk to the village. Who knows how long that would take. You’d probably keel over after the first mile. The thought made you snort while you squeezed down the aisle, suitcase with your bag stacked on it rolling behind you, purse strapped across your torso. The conductor – a sweet, older man – nodded silently to you as you disembarked, waving a farewell to you, which you returned. He was nice, you remembered him greeting you when you first boarded. 

He didn’t talk much, just a polite, “welcome aboard,” while the ticket collector pointed you in the direction of your cabin, which you greatly appreciated after hopping off a plane and hurrying your ass over to your required station. You were too spent for conversation.

Leaving the station was much easier than you expected. Unlike your home country, where you could get lost just by turning 45° to the left, Japan seemed to prefer neater environments that were easy to navigate. And, upon stepping out of the building, you rejoiced at spotting a few variously colored cabs waiting along the curb. Outside of one stood a man, roughly in his 50s or so, who waved you over.

“Need help getting somewhere, miss?” He questioned, and you nodded as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your emails to find the one confirming your purchase of the listing. 

“Yeah, could you take me here?”

He glanced down at your screen when you showed him the address and chuckled quietly. “Well, that’s a surprise. Last time I visited that house was some twenty years ago to take the owner to the station, rather than from.”

You blanched nominally. Twenty years? Had your house really been abandoned for twenty years? The listing claimed it was only ten max, that estate bastard. A sigh left through your nose. Too late to deal with that now, you figured. “I just purchased it.”

The man nodded as he popped open the trunk and assisted you in slotting your luggage inside. “You look like you’ve come from far away. It’s rare for foreigners to choose to live in such a distant location. Not a fan of the city?”

I fucking hate cities.

“Something like that, yeah,” you assented, thanking him as he opened the back door for you. 

You appreciated his efficiency as he wasted no time dilly-dallying around. As soon as he was buckled up in the car, he was on the road, taking you down the last leg of your trip. The world outside the window streaked by in shades of violet and blood orange as the sun hovered on the edge of the skyline, reluctant to rest for the night.

“Ah, apologies. I’m Hayato Kazuhiko, you may call me Kazu, if you prefer,” he quickly introduced himself, and you followed suit. “Why’d you choose this little village of all places? It’s very small.”

You hummed. “That’s exactly why I chose it. I’m not a big…people-person, if you know what I mean.”

The older gentleman chuckled lightly. “My wife is the same,” he nodded as he peeked at you via the rearview mirror. “She had to visit the small town I used to live in one day, and it was love at first sight for us. She was immediately drawn to country life, and we’ve lived out in the neighboring town here ever since.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-five years,” he nodded, and you could see the pure love and devotion in his eyes as he spoke about his spouse. It was wholesome, and softened your heart a sliver. 

He was surprisingly relaxing to listen to. Pleasant voice that didn’t grate on your ears, a few stories shared about his wife, the occasional tale about some significant structure or location. It was calming, in an odd way. He’d point out a shrine or hiking trail you’d pass by, and offer to take you to them one day to teach you its history and meaning, and you actually considered it.

It could’ve been the harmless nature about him. Even as night descended and you could only really see his silhouette, inspecting him reminded you of your father, but…better, for lack of an accurate word. You weren’t afraid that he’d suddenly raise his voice, or take you down a suspicious road – or, hell, back to the train station to send your sorry ass right back to where you came from.

“Mr.–” you cut yourself off and cleared your throat, mildly embarrassed about slipping back into your mother tongue. Japanese honorifics were something you continued to struggle with. “Hayato-san, do you have children?”

He gave a mellow laugh and shook his head slightly. “Please, just Kazu is fine. And I do, three of them, in fact. A younger son, and twin girls about your age,” he estimated roughly.

So the fatherly air to him you picked up on wasn’t imagined. That brought you a form of reassurance you couldn’t distinctly name.

“My twin girls are all the way up in Tokyo,” he continued, chest puffed with pride, “and my son is still in highschool, causing chaos.”

“Chaos?” You raised a brow.

“Yes, but not the type you’d think,” he hummed. “He’s a gentle child, but his kind nature means he’s unfortunately quite gullible and gets himself into trouble.”

A voice, the faint echo of a memory long lost, intoned in the far reaches of your lucidity; someone shaming you for getting caught up in an issue that wasn’t even your fault. Your stomach twisted with dread, and your head snapped to peer at Hayato, expecting to find disappointment shining in his eyes when you studied them through the rear-view mirror.

Except, there wasn’t any.

Concern at most, a crease in his brow as he warred within himself between protecting and helping his kin, or letting the kid learn on his own. There wasn’t any disappointment, or anger, or exasperation. You could see him reminiscing as he stopped talking, focusing more on the twists that followed the mountain’s curve, and all you saw was just…love, and happiness.

The churning in your gut settled, instead replaced with a sense of hollowness. Not the kind that made you sick; rather, it was like you had a gap in your chest where a puzzle piece was missing, while his was filled with a perfectly fitted heart.

Bittersweet, possibly, but only distantly so. You felt happy for someone who was borderline a complete stranger to you, someone you shouldn’t even care about beyond tipping him well for driving you to the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, but you did anyway. 

Maybe I could have had that too, your thoughts mutedly supplied, if I was normal.

Then again, you didn’t want that, not really. Though you couldn’t tell if that was just who you were as a person, or a result of the coals perpetually under your feet, it didn’t change your mind.

Nothing could.

You were sure of it.

Smooth concrete eventually became a densely packed dirt road when Kazu turned off the main path, the car vibrating as the wheels rolled over loose stones and gravel. It didn’t last long, thankfully, as the shabby looking pile of wood came into view, albeit dark since the stars overhead were too dim to illuminate anything much.

“Where we are, miss,” he spoke as you both climbed out of the vehicle and met at the trunk. He opened it to retrieve your luggage, and you pulled your wallet out of your purse and counted off a few bills, wondering what the right amount to give to him would be.

It was hard to translate currency worth when things were valued differently in this country. Your trip abroad was a long time ago.

“Is this enough?” You peered up at him and held out the bills.

He took one glance at them and chuckled deeply. “That’s far too much, really,” he replied as he pulled only two of the strips out of the small stack you were holding. “Be careful with your money while you adjust to the currency of this country. Do you need assistance with your luggage?”

“Oh,” you analyzed the remaining money in your hands before tucking it back into your wallet. You really hoped he took the right amount needed and didn’t undersell himself. “No, I’ll be okay. You got me here in one piece, that’s all I could ask for.”

“Are you sure?”

Your head bobbed as you inspected your suitcase and bag, popping out the handle. “Yes, I am. Drive safe, Kazu-san. Thank you for taking me here.”

His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Please, it’s my job. You are pleasant company.”

“Likewise,” your lips rounded into a smile as you bowed politely. It was small, and you were tired, but it was genuine, the first one you’ve had for a long while. “Goodnight.”

Kazuhiko waved his hand in farewell, bidding you good dreams as he climbed back into the taxi and drove off, leaving you alone.

Your lungs deflated.

The air here was crisper, stinging your throat in a pleasant way as you inhaled slowly. Faint hints of pine and sap drifted across your senses. Nothing indicated any heavy stenches of smog or gasoline or gods know what litters the streets of every downtown city you’d been to before.

It would probably take you a while to get used to, and you oddly didn’t want to, if only so you could admire the fresh fragrance every time you stepped outside. Your muscles relaxed, surprising you as you hadn’t noticed just how tense you were until you were perched outside the front gate of your brand new (old) lodging.

Turning to face it, you groaned upon the realization that it was on a hill. Said hill was tiny, mind you, but a hill nonetheless. You found you couldn’t give much of a shit right now, just yearning to lay down and pass the fuck out for a while. Maybe the rest of tomorrow, too. A few weeks, actually, if you were allowed to choose. A coma sounded wonderful.

“Home sweet home,” you mumbled to nobody in particular as you pushed open the gate and virtually jumped out of your skin at the near shriek it gave. Okay, it had to have been longer than 20 years, that was loud. 

With your heart fluttering rapidly, you made a note to deal with it (and everything else) later and trudged up the incline, almost eating shit and dying when the toe of your boot caught on the edge of a stepping stone. Another thing to add to the “deal with later” list. You had a feeling it would just keep growing exponentially.

Finding the key was easy, for better and worse. It simply sat in the door knob’s lock, very safe and secure and definitely not putting your house at risk of…what?

There was nothing in there, evident when you pushed open the front door, which wailed just as loudly as the fence gate. You felt the blood drain from your face. Sure, the interior was empty, but the house was a wreck. Peeling walls, strange, crusty scent, and a sticky floor at the entrance that made you grimace when your sole pulled off it like velcro. You knew that it was custom in Japan to take off your shoes at the door, but fuck that. Absolutely not. You were not walking in any part of this house either in socks or barefoot.

Everything was virtually pitch black as you delved further in, so you depended on your other senses, and the ability to smell was one you wished you didn’t have. Your nose wrinkled as various rotting odors welcomed you, making you immediately regret going through all this.

Morning. You’d deal with it all in the morning.

Practically sneaking on your tip-toes, you explored the open space, trying to find the room that smelled the least and was passable to sleep in. Granted, there were really only two actual rooms down a hall going opposite of the kitchen besides the restroom and washroom, but the bigger one seemed decent.

At least you had a sleeping bag and wouldn’t be conking out on the bare floor. You went through the motions of prepping for bed mostly by habit, doing the bare minimum seeing as you didn’t have much of a choice. You brushed your teeth with the water from your tumbler, located and unrolled your sleeping bag, and climbed under the rustling top after yanking your shoes off, zipping it up as far as it went. 

Admittedly, the setup was kinda janky, but it got the job done. 

You couldn’t be bothered to change into pajamas.

With your head plopped on probably the least comfortable pillow you had found to bring with you (also the only one that would fit in with the rest of your shit, it was practically a pillowcase filled loosely with sporadically placed lumps of stuffing), you closed your eyes, and your body finally let sleep take over.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Morning was not pleasant. Surrounded by the musty scent of gods-know-what, back aching from the restless sleep you got from your pitiful sleeping bag and the hard floor, you were groggy beyond belief and desperate for fresh air. And a massage. And a cigarette.

You didn’t smoke, finding the heavy and pungent funk nauseating, but the temptation was there. You felt you gained a little more understanding of smokers.

Brushing the thought aside, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and rubbed the heel of your palm against the sore spot on the side of your skull. You would have believed someone replaced your pillow with a rock if you hadn’t intimately known that lump of fluff. Or, rather, lack thereof.

Red lines, tender to the touch and tingling a little, were pressed onto the arm you laid on for most of the time you slept, causing you to hiss when you traced your fingers against them. It seemed to be barely past dawn when you reviewed what was out your window, leaving you questioning just how long you slept, if at all.

Figuring you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyway, you shoved yourself out of ‘bed’ and groaned when every joint in your body popped and every bone creaked. Hell, you weren’t sure you’d be able to sleep tonight again. Not here, anyway. More problems for future you.

She’d certainly be happy about that. She already had so much shit to handle.

The growl of your stomach reminded you that food was something you needed to consume to continue living. 

Reluctant as you were to do anything, you figured going out by starvation was 1) probably not the best idea, and 2) you wanted to be out of this dingy torture shed.

What was unfortunate was that you, like a smart person, didn’t bring anything more than snack bars and those weird trail mixes with the fruit cubes that you just threw into your bag without much care. It was really the only motivation you needed to walk your sorry self out the door. 

After you brushed your teeth and changed your clothes, of course, being very careful to not let anything touch the floor.

Stepping out of your home through the shabby and creaky door with your purse slung across your chest, you were met with the grandiose sight of mountains surrounding you on every side. They rose high, aching to brush the sky and touch a star, just one, just once, just for a second. Covered in thick greenery, you figured the faint yet present scents of cedar, pine, and other woodsy tones were carried down into the valley from the steep inclines.

You couldn’t see any of these details nearly as well when you were dragging your tired ass to this place with ink covering the sky in a thick veil, but it truly was breathtaking.

Had nature always been this green before?

Having only done some cursory research on the village – namely, population – you didn’t bother giving yourself time to actually inspect photos of the tiny rural town. From what you’d seen anyway, pictures could never do it justice. A velvety breeze brushed against your cheek, prompting you to tuck your hair behind your ear and pivot towards the direction the gale came from.

Your breath left you in a silent ‘oh’, mesmerized by the incredible view of the rising sun you had. It shone valiantly and radiantly through the gaps it had carved out between the towering peaks itself, illuminating the land in shades of brilliant gold with its splendor.

For perhaps the first time in your life, you felt…nothing.

Not a sense of hollowness, nor a void in your chest, no.  A peaceful kind of nothing, as if not a thing in the world could take your mind away from this newfound elysium you found in sharing the morning’s shine with its source.

Invisible fingers caressed your jaw, threading through your hair with the gentle touch of adoration, as if you were delicate.

You hated to be treated like you were easily breakable, as fragile as glass, but this sensation was consoling, rather than degrading. The wind cherished you, not akin to a brittle figurine, rather as someone who was beautiful and worthy of gentleness unsullied by pity or licentious intentions. As if you were someone to be worshipped and revered.

A mother combing her fingers through her daughter’s hair, humming a lullaby only she knew the tune of.

Perhaps it wasn’t impossible to find what you were searching for. You didn’t know what it was exactly, a question without an answer, but it gave you a place to start.

With a deep breath swelling behind your ribcage, filling your soul with air untouched by sickly city pollution you were so accustomed to, you turned and began heading down the beaten dirt path that led into the heart of the village. The early summer warmth was pleasant on your skin, not too hot given the time. It seeped into your cold fingers and made them ache a little less with each minute going by.

While the town you had chosen was visually quite a bit older in style, with smaller structures dotted about reflecting traditional Japanese designs, there were some modernities. Electricity was, fortunately, one of them. 

Based on the fact that you found and bought the listing online, you figured there was likely a way for you to get your hands on some Wi-Fi here, too. You’d probably die without it.

The nearer you drew to the center of the population, the denser the structures became. Not to say they were rubbing walls, but neighbors were only a short few steps away, compared to the distance between your own house and the one closest to it.

Minka houses in significantly better condition than yours spanned either side of the road as the terrain shifted from soil to asphalt. They were beautiful, and you bet that living in that kind of house in this kind of place was either absurdly expensive, or dirt cheap, with no real in-between. You were personally on the latter end of this, which probably wasn’t a good thing. 

Doomed by the narrative once again.

Off in the distance on an elevated surface, you could see what you thought was a Wayo Kenchiku temple, if you had to guess. Its overlapping roofs were a deep green in shade, nearly black. They protected the desaturated brown walls of the building, and you were taken aback by how easy the temple was to see from where you were.

It sat across a wide river, one surprisingly calm as you approached it. It rushed along, springing with glimmering waves that shimmered under the light and frothed white around raised boulders. Despite it coming across as fairly deep, you could see clear through to the bottom, with the water itself being a refreshing shade of clear blue. A bridge spanned the rift, made of sturdy wood that had dark railings protecting either side of you, matching the aesthetic of your surroundings.

The bridge whined under your weight, but didn’t shift, giving you some reassurance that you wouldn’t go crashing through the planks. It led into the most packed section of the whole area, with structures built closer together, bearing a more modernized likeness, while retaining its unique characteristics.

In truth, though you remained apprehensive, the voice that scratched at the back of your skull everywhere you went and pestered you to run, run, run, had quieted. You hadn’t registered it, the silence, too focused on taking in your new surroundings as a serene blanket covered the thoughts that usually pranced wild and free in your cranium, putting them to rest with a whispered mercy:

This feels right.

It didn’t take you long to spot what you figured was the local grocery store. The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside, peering at what products you could see on the shelves and aisles from where you stood. Being an anxious little creature, you double-checked to make sure you had your wallet, as well as the translated bills within. Last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in a place where everybody knew everybody.

Reassured, you chose a random aisle and headed down it, skimming the products to see if any of them appeared even vaguely familiar to you. Besides cans of soup and tubes of Pringles, there wasn’t much for you to grab onto. Sure, there was ramen, but you didn’t have a way to boil water. Cereal and milk, maybe?

Shit, no, you didn’t have any cutlery or dinnerware. Unless you wanted to be a sad raccoon and eat raw cereal straight from the box, but you weren’t that desperate.

Yet.

Mentally crossing out your options as you went through them, you nearly knocked over an entire row of items when you almost ran into an older lady who stood in the middle of the strip, watching you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” You hopped back a foot, raising your hands in front of you placatingly. “I-I didn’t see you there, am I in your way?”

The woman laughed and shook her head, her smile reminding you of a grandmother that’d sneakily give her grandkids candies while their parents weren’t watching. “You’re quite alright, I was actually wondering if you need help?”

“Oh, uh…” Bashfully scratching the back of your head, you glanced at the various bags of foodstuffs beside you and debated your choices. Say no, when it was painfully obvious how green behind the ears you were, or set down your pride and ask for assistance.

Your stomach chose for you, warning you to suck it up and get food before it began eating itself.

The woman’s chuckle was heartier the second time around, her eyes glimmering with mirth as she motioned for you to follow her. Feeling a bit like a scolded child, you trailed after her while she wove her way around her store towards the produce section at the back. She pulled a random fruit from the thunder-rain-shelf-thing (you honestly had no idea what it was called) and rubbed it against her apron before handing it to you.

“Eat,” she insisted.

You blinked rapidly, peeping the fruit, the sign for it, then her. “How much…?”

The lady waved her free hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Eat, I insist.”

You were going to argue further, but a deep cramp in your gut had you sinking your teeth into the sweet and wonderfully-textured treat. As embarrassing as it was, you borderline moaned as you chewed, quickly taking another bite. Whatever it was, it tasted divine.

This time, when she directed you to move with her, you followed without hesitation. “Thank you so much,” you mumbled as she pulled out a chair from behind the counter and urged for you to sit on it.

“It’s nothing, I can’t let you go hungry, now,” she swept away your worries. “You’re new here,” she stated, rather than asked.

You nodded through another bite, waiting until you swallowed before continuing the conversation. “Yes, I got here last night.”

“Oh? Are you visiting someone?”

“No, I moved here.”

Her brows raised. “Really, now? Who are you staying with?”

Mid-bite, you stopped to address the matter. “Oh, no, I’m not living with anyone. I purchased the house just outside the village.”

The way her eyes widened was nearly comical. “That place? Now, that’s a surprise.”

If you had a nickel.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that now,” your lips tugged into a frown and you stifled it with another chomp into the sweet object in your hand.

At that, she simpered mutedly. “I apologize. I’m merely awed that it was still standing, let alone that someone had bought it. Last I heard, there hasn’t been anyone living there for, oh, maybe 20 years or so.”

The realtor, that dog. He did lie to you after all.

You scornfully hoped he was enjoying spending your money.

Picking at your cheek with your free hand, you looked away with a nervous giggle. “Yeah, it’s…not in great shape. I have a lot of work cut out for me.”

“You’re going to try to repair it?”

“Yeah. Keyword being try.”

“I’m not sure that’s a wise choice.”

You sighed. “Me neither, but I don’t have much of a choice now.”

The woman shook her head, smiling regardless. “You let me know what kind of help you need. There are plenty of handymen in this village of ours, I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of you, but…I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name,” you pouted, hurriedly introducing yourself.

“Just call me Granny. And I won’t take no for an answer, missy,” okay, now you really felt scolded. “I won’t stand for you trying to fix up that cluster of wood by yourself, it’s far too dangerous. And you shouldn’t be staying there while it’s in that condition, either. Give me a moment, let me find someone you can stay with.”

Panic rose up in you and you waved your hands frantically in front of you. “N-No! It’s fine, I’ll– I’ll figure something out, really, don’t worry. Please.”

Granny eyed you suspiciously, her hand hovering over the landline on the wall. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! It’s fine, I’m fine, I promise.”

Her eyes remained squinted, even as she lowered her arm. “Alright, if you say so. But if you need any kind of help, big or small, come to me right away, okay?”

Relieved you wouldn’t have to interact with more strangers, you nodded and deflated. “I will.”

“Promise me, young lady.”

“I promise.”

She grinned brightly and ruffled your hair. “That’s a good girl. Let me pack you a few things to take with you so you have something to eat.”

“Ah– wait, I…I’m not very good with currency yet,” you halted her sheepishly. The prices were still confusing as fuck to you. Man, how the fuck were you going to manage this when you get a job? If?

“Nonsense, it’s on me. I won’t charge you.”

Sorry, what? Did she do that for every person she met five minutes prior?

“But– but that’s not–”

“Finish up your peach,” she asserted as she was already walking away with a bag in her hands that wasn’t there a second ago. What was it with grannies and having some weird, innate magic?

Your eyes darted down at your half-eaten peach, surprised to learn that it wasn’t some foreign fruit you’d never even heard of before, let alone tried. It was an exceptional blend between succulent and rich; easy to bite into and chew without pouring juice all over yourself.

The fuck kind of peaches have you been eating before?

Sensing you might be buying these often if they were this good, you had well-nigh inhaled the rest of it by the time Granny came back with a stuffed bag.

“Here you go, dear,” she held out the shopping bag to you, which you took graciously after tossing out the peach pit into the small trash can by the counter.

Glancing into the bag, your lips shifted downwards. It was filled with a few different fruits and veggies, a couple bags of snacks, but mostly packaged food that looked like it could be eaten as is without needing to worry about cooking it. Your guilt skyrocketed. “Granny, this is too–”

“Don’t worry about paying. Save your money for the repairs of that home of yours.”

Your head shot up, eyes widening. “I can’t–”

“You can because I say so, young lady,” Granny puffed out her chest proudly, using a motherly tone that easily put you in your place, much to your bafflement. You didn’t even listen to your own mother like this. “Come back in the evening, I’ll have something cooked up for you.”

“You really don’t–”

She made brushing motions with her fingers, shooing you off the chair. “Off you go. There’s a lovely little pergola in the park, go have breakfast there. Just turn right when you leave and keep walking straight.”

Flustered, you let her push you along out the door, your confused brain trying to catch up. “Granny–”

“I’ll have a list of handymen for you when you return,” she informed you right as she managed to get you out the door. “Explore the town while there’s still daylight!”

And just like that, she was back in her store, sweeping with a broom that you swear materialized out of nowhere. You stared at the shop for a good minute, blinking dumbly until you processed whatever just happened.

You still weren’t wholly sure. You went in, expecting to grab a bag of something random to ‘feed’ yourself with, and left with a bag full of free food from a woman who spontaneously decided to give it to you. 

The fuck. She’d go bankrupt if she just kept giving strangers sustenance off her own back.

Your own feet seemed to carry you along as you exhaled through your nose and took her instructions to heart. Too late now, you’d feel bad if you went in and returned everything. It’d be insulting at this point, and you were hungry, anyway

A cooked meal did sound lovely as well, discomfited as you were. You had never met your own grandmothers – not in person at least, so you had no idea if grandmothers were simply like that or not. Regardless, you had a feeling she was going to fill that role in whether you liked it or not. 

Luckily, you were drifting towards like. She did give you free food, after all, and was going to find help for you. That part you were more apprehensive about, however, stubbornness and introversion making you want to be stupid and attempt to pick up carpentry out of nowhere.

All you could do was try to accept it and sigh, taking in the sights, stores, and dwellings as you walked past them and towards the park. A couple shops caught your eye, particularly a clothing boutique, and what could possibly be a hardware store. You weren’t certain, and didn’t want to find out yet. The prospect of entering one and facing the big ass sign that said ‘you don’t know what the hell you're doing!’ was too daunting to approach for now.

It didn’t take you long to get to the park. In fact, it was such a short walk that it bemused you. A population of 600 people seemed larger on paper than it was in reality. Most of the town was behind you, granted, but the uncanniness was uplifting, in a way.

It didn’t feel claustrophobic. The trees in the park were closer together than some of the buildings outside it, and they smelled so good that it knocked you back a step. The entire wild garden carried the fresh perfume of sweet and fresh vegetation, from blooming flowers scattered about and the grass underfoot, to the rustling leaves above. You couldn’t recall the last time you were in a park, let alone one that was as vibrant and alive as this one.

The pergola was easy to find. It resided in the center, right beside a large pond that you saw was filled with koi fish when you got close. 

They swam to-and-fro, carefree, intermingling, playing, and searching for food. 

Your stomach twisted when you made an unintentional connection in your mind. They reminded you of kites. Pretty, ultimately trapped.

The koi fish, however, didn’t seem to mind one bit. Not that you could understand fish language. They just went about their business calmly. It perplexed you, didn’t spending their lives in a single body of water bother them? Didn’t it make them depressed?

Could fish feel depression?

Shaking your head to rid it of the peculiar journey your mind had gone off on, you set the bag down on the table under the pergola and settled into one of the chairs, reaching to dig through your options. Of the items present, you opted to munch on a sandwich Granny had tossed in with everything else, bundled in saran wrap and clearly made by her.

While you were skeptical of pre-made food bought in a grocery store like this, one sniff had you biting into it ravenously. You were way hungrier than you thought as you devoured it, trying to will yourself to slow down enough to at least savor the taste of it. Your earlier guilt and trepidation disappeared three bites in, and you were now very much anticipating Granny’s handmade cooking if this was the kind of sandwich she was capable of creating.

You questioned again if all grannies were like this, or if you lucked out. Either way, if it meant you didn’t have to struggle with food for the time being (or ever, if Granny let you mooch off her forever), you didn’t mind getting spontaneously adopted by her at all.

About halfway through your meal, the koi fish in the pond caught your attention again. They were gorgeous animals, graceful and sleek with scales that twinkled iridescently when the sun flickered over them from between the gaps in the canopy above. They had you mesmerized, sights focused solely on them as they showed off.

Maybe they had managed to hypnotize you, because you decided to tear off a piece of the ham, rip it into tiny pieces, then throw it towards the pond. There was a large splash as all the fish rushed towards the food, making you snicker.

A sort of childish glee bloomed within you, persuading you to indulge them a smidgen longer before you finished off your food. The park seemed like a sacred place where nothing could touch you, where the lands would remain lavish and healthy, and where you could let all your worries fade away.

Arcadian – that was the best way you could describe it. Placid, halcyon, grounding, mellow. You could go on and on, really, but you–

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled when you sensed that someone, or something, was watching you. Heat grazed against your nape, slow, measured breaths right behind your ear. A kiss from a pair of soft lips that never reached your skin. A demanding presence wrapped around your figure, a prey caught in the trap laid out precisely by a steadfast and salivating predator.

Ghostly fingers slid down your shoulders, crept over your forearms, and encircled your wrists, holding them in place with a deceptively lax hold. Something firm and wide pressed against your shoulder blades, keeping you between it and the table.

Your heart kicked in your throat, preventing you from swallowing anything more than a tiny gasp.

And, like the cornered quarry you were, you shifted slowly to peek from the corner of your eye, avoiding any sudden or abrupt movements. You expected to find a beast hovering over your shoulder, eagerly anticipating your reaction. 

There was nothing. 

Only foliage greeted your wide-eyed inspection, expansive and untouched since you came here. The feeling of being hunted on had evaporated as soon as you checked, and though uncertain of this verdict, you chalked it up to being in totally unfamiliar territory. A result of a soundless, featherlight brush of wind, a critter in the foliage envying the fish you fed, lasting no more than a sigh.

Your brow furrowed as you searched through the plant life, seeing not even a hair out of the ordinary. That dovish sensation the park carried returned like it had never left to begin with, coaxing you to let it go and relax.

Maybe that was your cue to leave.

You shook off the lingering sensation with a shiver. Everything was okay in the wooded pasture, and as tranquil as your surroundings were, you knew you’d have to face the elephant in the room eventually.

You dusted yourself off as you got up to dislodge any lingering crumbs, carefully packed everything back into the bag, and took one final look around. This place would become your safe haven, you determined. Already, you were thinking of coming back, the memory of your adrenaline spiking fading rapidly. Imagining returning here gave you that minor push you need to fill your lungs with courage and turn to head back out the way you came.

You could explore the town later. Right now, you needed to address the state of your new stead and gauge what laid ahead of you first. Maybe it’d give you at least an idea of what you required to get started on all of this, though you doubted you’d come out of witnessing it in the full glory of the sun knowing more than you did now.

Absentmindedly, the milieu filtered into your subconscious, automatically noting small landmarks here and there to assist you in finding your way around the streets while they still confused you, until you had learned to traverse them and knew every path and alley like the back of your hand.

(Just in case, you assessed the back of your right hand. You know, to reacquaint yourself with it.)

Glumness overtook. You knew you probably wouldn’t stay here for too long, no matter how much you liked it. You could fix up the house, flip it, and head off someplace else again in pursuit of something that probably didn’t exist.

It’s always been this way for you. The same old pattern, the same old story, the neverending book that looped in on itself over and over, caught in a wormhole where the exit was the entrance.

So it was easy to convince yourself to not get attached to the valley, nor the people, nor that damn sticks-on-bricks abode. Not even the grass filled with flowers and protected by tall trees you had already found yourself longing for.

It was easier this way. This was all you knew, after all.

You had it all figured out.

Didn't you?

banner by cafekitsune ♥

[love-takes-work]

Streamily Signing with Jennifer Paz as Lapis Lazuli and Malachite

Jennifer Paz did a signing through Streamily for fans who bought a signed print. Here are just a few highlights of the stream.

She remembers dressing up as "Bob" for a charity purpose.

She does some line reads that Lapis had in the show.

Lapis was not Jen's first voice over work. She did The Angry Beavers back in the 90s. She's done a lot of ADR work for films. However, Lapis was her first recurring character.

Regarding a fusion between Peridot and Lapis, she didn't think much about that, but she thinks they could work together at a nursery in the barn and being a therapist.

She points out that she can't draw "worth shite" when a fan wanted her to draw on the print, so she just wrote her favorite quote ("I just wanna go home").

Responding to "can you do impressions of other Steven Universe character," she did some callbacks from "The New Crystal Gems," doing "the Garnet" and an Amethyst impression.

In response to someone asking if she auditioned for the role of Amethyst, yes she did audition for Amethyst and recorded the pilot episode for it. They just decided she wasn't the right voice for it. She loves Michaela's take on the character.

She loved the Mary Poppins rendition by Lin Manuel Miranda.

She comments that Steven Universe helped her with her mental health.

She thinks Lapis and Peridot were great as an Odd Couple type.

Her plans for the holidays include in-laws coming in next week and her kid gets to hang out with his grandparents. She loves her in-laws who are coming in from Philly. They love to drink and she's not a drinker.

Can Lapis waterbend people's tears? Yes, Jen thinks she can. Ask Rebecca, though. She could've done something to Blue Diamond with that. Jen loves that Lapis said "I've felt worse."

Jen quotes when Lapis said "No" to "Lapis, fly us in!" She loves that Lapis is a "waterbender" but her humor was so dry. She's getting over being traumatized and just wants others to do their stuff.

She gives some advice for handling adulthood: the only way out of difficult things is through it. If you avoid difficulties they will come back somehow.

She thinks Lapis would enjoy flying a kite.

Wouldn't it be funny if Lapis became Bob the Coach and started a Little League? Maybe she'd say "There's no crying in baseball."

Her favorite character from Steven Universe was Greg.

Lapis did a lot of sleeping and reading to recover from her trauma.

Jen's favorite colors are blue and magenta.

Jen used to not know what "ship" meant in a relationship context and had to find out on Urban Dictionary. She has a Gen Alpha kid now and there are phrases she is forbidden from saying them.

One of her favorite lines from "Hit the Diamond" was "This plan sucks."

Her favorite ship was probably Stevonnie.

She thinks if Steven and Lapis fused it'd be because they were playing catch or hanging out--it would be accidental while playing a sports game.

Someone started a goth band called Cult of Lazuli because of Steven Universe and Lapis. Jen loves this!

She can't commit to saying a favorite song. She agrees that Lapis would secretly listen to Taylor Swift.

She would love Steven Universe to come back but she doesn't know if it will. She'll just say yes, in her opinion it will come back.

Her opinion is that Lapis's water powers are somehow related to Blue Diamond's.

She made a joke about how Cult of Lazuli rocks "because we're rocks."

While signing a Malachite print, she said some stuff toxic relationships and how incredible it was that Lapis dragged Jasper into the sea--but for what? She hopes those who have been in toxic relationships are okay now.

She could not sing in Brazilian Portuguese in response to a request, but she took out a shaker and sang some of "That Distant Shore" in English. She thinks it might be fun to learn it in Brazilian Portuguese and loves the singer who did the voice for the Brazilian dub.

She would love if someone could do fanart of Lapis singing "Home" from The Wiz, or "Home" from Beauty and the Beast--all the music about home should be a Lapis playlist.

She answered what kind of car would Lapis have? She would have an electric car, because as a reformed terraformer, she cares about the Earth now. The car would be a VinFast, "because uh, just because." ;)

She was at one time bald due to alopecia during one of the cons that she had met one of the fans at. She remembers L.A. Comic Con. She was wearing a wig that she referred to "a bob wig." (A "Bob" wig? Heehee!) She found it itchy. She asked Kimberly Brooks and Michaela Dietz if they could tell she was wearing a wig. She was stressed out and ended up recovering through the use of addressing vitamin deficiency. She sends a message of support to anyone struggling with alopecia.

She signs some prints with "I'd love to see your color shining through," "Maybe I'm not alone," and "I just wanna go home."

She shared that her mom's name is Aurora (which was somewhat similar to one of the fans getting a print).

She shares that she loves the Muppets and her favorite characters are "the two curmudgeons in the box seats."

She said "Bob" is a favorite for her and she has a few new items in the shop. Some orders were not made in time to get into this signing, so she wants to schedule another one.

[camarilla-arts]

….. Pokémon au…..

Detailed teams and thoughts below the read more.

These teams would be around the start of the black whale arc, i lightly mapped out which arcs they’d catch and evolve in! No deaths in this au, lesser stakes, this is pokemon. This is only the main 4 for now.

Gon’s team: lots of heavy hitting at the sake of taking damage, lots of environmentally useful moves.

Kon- Ursaluna: Main Partner. met as teddiursa with Kite as a child. With him for all of series.

Bon- wailord: caught in whale island, evolves into wailord during hunter exam. I love the concept of a small child with only massive Pokémon tbh.

Mon- Togekiss: Mito(Poke-breeder) gave him this egg to hatch and everyone finds it funny his hair matches. Probably trains and evolves with Bisky(Former Champ/Gymleader) in GI training times. Once she evolved to Togekiss they LOVE flying together.

Ja-Jan- Scizor: he caught scyther traveling with Kite and evolves it training with Knuckle, it’s cause of Knuckle that his naming pattern is different. Ja Ja Ken themed pokemon! Bisky teaches them how Mega-evolution works!

Don- Kommo-o: Instead of a video game, Ging left Gon two dragon eggs, one he kept and hatched into the battle loving Don and the other he gifted to Killua. Also evolves during GI training. They have immensely similar personalities.

Solgaleo doesnt belong to him, they're friends. Killua and Gon both help a Cosmoem/Cosmog and when fighting along side Gon it takes on this form! only see this during the parallel to the Chimera Ant arc.

I also consdered: Koraidon, Hitmonchan, Heracross, Kanto-Nintales, Pidgeotto, Eevee, dondozo, Wishiwashi, Annihilape, Dragonite, etc.

Killua's team: the Zoldyck family is notorious for their Dark and poison type trainers and protecting Kukuru Mt. a similar vibe to Aether research group.

Cocoa-Weaville: Main partner. perfect IVs, Good EVs, a classic Zoldyck match. they get better together. Her nickname is a secret between the both of them till after Gon and friends rescue him from his house.

Mallow-Crobat: Also already on his team for the Hunter Exam as a Golbat. also Family Approved. He's frustrated by its inability to evolve until he does while visiting Whale Island with Gon.

Pop Rocks- Luxray: Caught during Heavens Arena timeline and evolved fully with Bisky training. his first time choosing a pokemon for himself and having fun.

Taffy- Silvally: Given to him by his Dad as a Type:Null, but rarely used because Killua knows it hates battling and doesnt want it to hate him. the Mask removal likes up nicely with the Needle removal moment. they learn to Battle for themselves and enjoy it over time.

Bonbon- Salamence: Killua's first time hatching a pokemon egg gifted to him by Gon. shes a little defiant and stubborn, Killua blames Gon's influence. Also evolved under Bisky training. If asked why her nickname matches Gons pokemon he will tell you to stop imagining things.

Lunala is also not technically his, he also helps out the same Cosmog/Cosmoem and is blown away when it takes on this form for him while he's rescuing Alluka/Nanika and their Jirachi.

Also considered: Miraidon, Killowatrel, Hitmontop, Floragato, Morpeko, Jolteon, toxtricity, snealser, Alolan-Ninetails, etc.

Leorio's team: this man is deceptivly good at battling but no one would guess it looking at his team. He has the slowest progress in training compared to his friends but tbf he's also attending medical school. lowest effort nicknames.

Gimmi-Gimmighoul: Main Partner. here from the start but stays as a Roving form until we see Leorio again at the election arc and its in its treasure chest form! they are besties.

Pooch- Mightyena: has as a Poochyena for the Hunter exam and his main battler. Cheedle first notices Leorio because she pays extra attention to Dog pokemon and approves of how they battle together. both of these guys give bad first impressions.

Audi- Audino: also a pokemon he starts the hunter exam with but he's a little self conscious of her. Not that either of them ever hesitate to go doctor mode even if they don't match each others vibes. She knows Leorio deep down has a good heart and she refuses to tolerate his nonsense so she can be dis-agreeable until he says what he really means. Learns Mega-evolution off camera just like his nen.

Boar- Tepig: gift egg from Ging as a congrats for getting the Zodiac position after him. Leorio is trying extremely hard to live up to expectations and Boar is probably the most spoiled Pokemon by all of Leorio's team.

Lunch- Applin: in a reference to the Gon giving Leorio and apple scene in 99 anime i really wanted to put an applin on his team. probably given to him by Gon, maybe from whale island. Leorio has no idea how to train this guy, hes working on it. I'm not 100% on this one.

Xerneas- its not unusual for hunters to form bonds with legendaries if they impress them. and i think Xerneas would like Leorio's gumption and kindness. :) plus parallel for Kurapika. probably starts bonding with him around the end of the Election arc.

Kurapika's team: I wish we knew more about the Kurta language cause i think he'd name them after that. It was less a massacre and more a mass destructive event as the PT looted their remote village looking for rare and valuable pokeon, probably following the rumors of a psudo-legendary doomsaying pokemon.

Nemesis-Absol: Main Partner. They both feel responsibly for the attack and seek both vengeance and the return of any pokemon taken. She is just as driven and determined as he is. they learn to mega-evolve while training with Mizuken pre York New.

Prometheus-Blaziken: caught as a torchick post PT attack. insp by the ride-able birds in the Memory comics! the second most dedicated and determined on the team along side Nemesis. loves training. pressent for Hunters exam.

Aion-Metagross: caught and trained with a matching beldum alongside Pairo. Sheila helped them catch them! too bad Pairo's beldum went missing in the PT attack. present for Hunters exam.

Odysea-Palafin: a pokemon Kurapika always adored and was super excited to catch. Dolphin fan boy. Heroic type the vibes are perfect.

Achlys- Rattata: F.E.A.R. tactics. A gift from Pariston after inheriting his Zodiac position. neither of them are above using this tactic if need be lol. His feelings about her are cautious suspicion but they are growing closer over time.

Yveltal is the Legendary that Kurapika willingly made a deal with to give himself the certainty of defeating the PT. they are what they are and its not the healthiest bond but Kurapika would never blame it for its nature and his own choices.

Also Considered: Dodrio, Gyarados(Shiny), Hydredgeon, Talonflame, Giratina, Corviknight, Armorouge, Husian-Zorark, Klefki, All of the Ruinous legendaries, ect.

[loulovingho]

Wait there are people who think Tommy wasn't flying the water plane in s2? In the episode Broken he's talking to Tommy over the phone and mentions the 217 (where Tommy transferred). And I believe in the episode with Red, Chimney mentions how he has been in touch with former 118 when he mentions the favour he asked of Tommy

Yes, there are. They think tommy got someone else to fly it over, or that it was a different tommy altogether (I saw that a few times)?? Many firefighter pilots learn how to fly both helicopters and single wing planes, and I personally know people who know how to fly many types of aircraft so it was always a bit bizarre to me that people didn’t believe it was him.

Also, it’s 911. If someone knows how to fly a kite they also know how to fly anything up to a jet 😂

[teaheecoco]

Afk Wilder Hcs Pt.2

(Some of these replace my old headcanons)

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◇ Florabelle is immune to poisonous flowers and collects them. She has many pretty deadly flowers hidden somewhere safe

◇ Bryon is a hybrid. He's half caracal and half hawk. Hybrids are unusual, so he was often rejected by other kids during his childhood

◇ Lorsan has a sweet tooth and has a severe case of hyperactivity if he consumes a lot of sugar

◇ Lyca makes strawberry crepes that consist of strawberries(obviously) and yogurt because it isn't too sweet, and it's Lorsan's favorite

◇ Eironn has a high pain tolerance and would fail to notice his wounds until someone points it out

◇ Parisa had a secret childhood friend who was so shy that nobody except Granny Dahnie and Master Arden knew she existed. That childhood friend happens to be Solise

◇ Bryon has 2 forms: his normal form and bird form. His bird form has more features of a hawk- giving him bird claws and the ability to fly. The only condition holding him back from using his second form is that he tends to get violent and predatory

◇ Lorsan and Lyca were really small as babies. So small that they both fit in Granny Dahnie's hands

◇ Lorsan doesn't know this, but some kids would try to pick on him, but Bryon would take care of them directly and even indirectly by launching an Elona attack

◇ Damian once got swooped while flying a kite. He fell on Eomir (lol)

◇ Eironn would accidentally hit his head when entering doors that he's taller than. His height is his biggest weakness, and he would lose at hide n seek a few times due to this

◇ Lyca used to stay up at night reading the stars or just stargazing. Due to that, she had a messed up sleep schedule and depended on anything that kept her awake through the day during her school days

◇ Hewynn has a hornleaf bear plush made by Granny Dahnie

◇ Parisa is a tea connoisseur and owns a lot of tea sets at her place. She hosts her tea party in her garden

◇ Lyca, being the older sister to Lorsan, wanted someone to look up to and saw Florabelle as an older sister figure. She would try to be like Florabelle, thinking she would be a better role model for Lorsan. Turns out that letting Lorsan neglect his assignments was a terrible mistake

◇ Damian has an older sister, and it's Nemora. They rarely see each other but they're on good terms

◇ Eironn is in touch with his elf culture and would pull some out of place moves on Lyca. Parisa revealed that most of it is an Elven's way of expressing certain feelings to someone

◇ Florabelle is favored by the fairy of dreams, Tasi. These two would meet up in the dream realm when Florabelle goes to sleep

◇ Parisa is not much of a gossip girl around people, but she loves spilling the tea with her plants

◇ Lorsan has a crime list in the lightbearer territory, but none of it has been recorded since he only gets himself involved with bad guys unintentionally. He has been locked up before and learned how to lock pick

◇ Florabelle dubbed Lyca and Eironn as star-crossed lovers when telling a story to her students

◇ Eironn curses in elven language

◇ Lyca does her deer's makeup

◇ Lorsan sleeps in a hammock

◇ Bryon lives in a treehouse

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Hope you enjoyed 👍

[inkwingart]

[image ID] Iris, a brown-skinned young man, perches on a windowsill, flying a kite with a long green tail with stylized pennants resembling the Palestinian olive-leaf motif. A black and white kufiya is wrapped loosely around his shoulders, and his black tunic is adorned with tatreez. Crow, a darker-skinned brown man in a dark teal sleeveless shirt, stands behind Iris with his hand resting gently on Iris’s arm. [end ID]

Ceasefire now. End the occupation. Free Palestine.

Context under the cut:

These are my characters Iris (with the kite) and Crow (behind him). I started writing about them a few years ago, and their story takes place in the same world as Fox and Hemlock’s. Stars in the Dark is about being diaspora in a multicultural society, how a gilded cage is still a cage and slavery remains slavery even if it is not named such, and about the weight of a ruler’s legacy.

Iris and Crow’s story takes place a few decades prior, while Mahjuren is not a kingdom but an empire.

This time, the focus is on Iris, one of the last surviving members of an indigenous nomadic minority within Mahjuren. His clan was massacred when he was a child, and his identity as a member of that clan was erased by assigning him a new surname that roughly translates to “of nothing and nowhere.” Other clans are under constant threat from imperial raids that gleefully commit similar massacres with total impunity.

As Iris grows up, every aspect of his life is rigidly dictated by his “savior” who took him in after the massacre. Who he meets, what he learns, where he goes, his meals, his hobbies, and even his relationships are subjected to scrutiny and control.

One of the major events in the story is when Iris is assigned to travel to a certain city for the first time, a trip that is typically given as a reward to novices for becoming journeymen and one that Iris was originally denied. The day he and Crow arrive happens to be the Festival of Kites, and the scene in which Iris plays with a stolen kite is the first moment when Iris is permitted unfettered, childlike joy.

~~

If you read all that, you’ll notice some striking similarities to Palestinian history. None of this was intentional—my original inspiration was North Asian and North American indigenous peoples. Before the genocide in Gaza, I thought maybe my writing of Iris’s childhood was a bit unbelievable, acceptable for a fantasy protagonist but not entirely realistic. I don’t think that anymore. In the past hundred days, we’ve witnessed families wiped out, children kidnapped by colonizers, zionist soldiers laughing as they attempt to destroy an entire society.

[fiercynn]

palestinian poets series: rafeef ziadah

rafeef ziadah is a palestinian spoken word artist and human rights activist based in london, united kingdom. her live readings offer a moving blend of poetry and music. since releasing her first album, she has headlined prestigious performance venues across several countries with powerful readings on war, exile, gender and racism. she is also a long-time organizer and advocate for palestinian liberation and human rights, including with the bds movement, and currently is a professor of politics and public policy at king’s college london.

rafeef ziadah has three albums of poetry set to original music composition, all available on bandcamp: Hadeel (2009), which is dedicated to palestinian youth, who still fly kites in the face of F16 bombers, who still remember the names of their villages in palestine and still hear the sound of hadeel over Gaza; We Teach Life (2015), which was written over several years, three wars, two sieges, too many borders and protests and picket lines; and most recently, Three Generations (2020), a personal remembrance of palestine, al-nakba, exile, defiance, and survival.

learn more about rafeef ziadah and how you can support her work at her website. she is also on twitter @/rafeefziadah.

IF YOU WATCH ONE PERFORMANCE BY RAFEEF ZIADAH, MAKE IT THIS ONE

OTHER PERFORMANCES I LOVE ONLINE BY RAFEEF ZIADAH

Three Generations (2020)

Hadeel (2014)

Passport (2016)

Sieges (2016)

you can find the full list of poets featured in this series here!

[kiturts]

I've been flying a kite

learning how to love life once more

to know the catharsis of loving again

reminds us of how much we bled

(reblogs > likes)

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Got a cute idea for ya. How would Lisa react if she attended the current Lantern Rite and saw her s/o had made a kite that looked like her hat?

Since I thought about writing after getting c6 Lisa it's only logical that I'd do Lisa content :3

Lisa seeing her S/O's kite for the lantern rite

Reader here is gender neutral

Seeing how excited you were for lantern rite she had to make sure to make your dream come true and depart to Liyue as soon as she found an opportunity to.

The sights were gorgeous, kites and lanterns made quite a combination... As you walked around the harbor you suddenly got an idea...

You told her that you had something important to take care of so she left you be for a moment. Of course she picked up that the "sudden very important issue you need to take care of" might be a surprise for her.

She found a way to amuse herself while she waited for you, while also making sure there will be a lot of festive activities you could experience together.

Enjoying tea while listening to storytellers was how she spent majority of her time without you.

But she also learned a lot about a kite flying contest and she already had an idea where you ran off to.

You did spend suspicious amount of time near a kite stall when the two of you went shopping around after all.

When you were done with your business however she decided not to think too much about it. Guessing what you've been up to served no purpose when she could either ask or find out for herself soon.

After Gaming's performance you decided that it was time to reveal what you spent your time on: a kite that's shaped like her hat.

It was adorable that you thought of that "Oh sweetie... It looks amazing" she gave you a kiss on the cheek before laughing a bit "I certainly didn't expect something like that, you always have the most unique ideas, cutie"

That was one way to make the lantern rite something she'll remember for a longer time. And of course once you go back home she might use the kite a lot in the future, what better place is there to fly a kite than land of anemo God?

~Mod Lisa

[pumpkinsy0]

fuck it, more Purly Haitian vacation thoughts:

On the first day, Ponyboy got sunburnt to all hell. Yeah he was made fun of for it, but whatever they gave him wasn't regular aloe, it was better.

Runs out of clean clothes (he didn't have much to pack anyway) so he makes due with the clothes given to him (and insisted he keep and bring to america)

Curly jokes he'd look cute in a karabela. Pony doesn't know what that is and just rolls his eyes.

Sandals! Everyone wears them. Ponyboy watches fondly as Curly's aunt weaves him a pair, asking him if he likes the color purple, which he responds "Wi Matènèl." Just like Curly taught him.

The mornings come early and while Curly would love nothing more than to lay in bed all day with Pony, he does want to wake up early and take him for scooter rides. Ponyboy holds on to him tightly as they weave around corners. Curly is in heaven.

Ponyboy is interested in the literature and art of Haiti and loves the bright colors of the homes. He loves their cheap art galleries and after dinner he's read to in Kreyole first and then English second because he wants to try and learn what stories are being told to him.

Darry has asked him to call if possible. There's only one phone avaliable and it's at "the big house." it costs a lot of money to call but The Shepards don't bat an eye giving him the coins he needs to tell his brother he's okay and what his day was like.

Curly avoids all questions asked to him about family back in America. He can't stomach the thought that his relatives think he's living it up and couldn't be further from the truth.

He hates America. Hates the racism. Hates their stupid laws. He hates how their mother left this beautiful place to chase a man that doesn't give a hang about them.

Curly needs a cigarette. On the porch, he pauses:

Ponyboy is given a pretty red and yellow choublack flower crown (cause it's still the 60s) and is out on the street with a bunch of Curly's younger cousins who ask him to draw on the sidewalks with them. Ponyboy never got the opportunity to be a big brother, so it's all fun and games with him. It's lightly raining, a sunshine shower. Ponyboy is smiling, laughing and singing along to some child's song, slightly butchering the words.

Curly is whipped at the sight.

i JUST woke up to this absolute GEM of an ask im going insane im like a dog with zoomies after a shower another BANGER anon ask about haiti omg

AND AND I WANNA ADD MORE THOUGHTS☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽☝🏽

•the shepards has family in the countryside of haiti, and they have a fucking donkey and that thing would nibble on ponys shirt everytime he came near and it was ALWAYS him and him alone like dude???fuck of?????

•pony would LOVE ti kawòl (its this ice cream in a bag thing, comes in different flavors) but he likes it when its melted so he literally WAITS till its a liquid again, pokes a hole in the bag and drinks it and curly, tim, angela, and their family think hes so WEIRD for that

•curlys aunt is always making malta ak lèt (just means malta and milk) and its curly, pony, and the younger cousins fault that its always gone within a few days like my god

•theres a good chunk of reptiles in haiti and curly used to spend his time catching the fuckers when he still used to live in haiti, and ik he took pony to the best places he would find em, however outside of that sometimes pony would find them on accident and his body would take a ss

•kite flying is pretty important, i think pony and curly should be allowed to make their own cool looking kite at least once

•tim and curly were def stealing cool looking plates from their aunts and was forcing pony to be apart of it, he was a mess trying to keep it together

•OHOH sometimes they would have to ride tap taps (just look it up im WAY to lazy to explain it) and pony was a bit nervous bc theres rlly no specific individual seats and no seatbelts, so curly would hold onto him to make him feel safer so gay

•pony def accidentally got some mannerisms from his time there, this is more of a “if u get it u get it” thing, but if yknow that look ur haitian elder gives u when they catch u doin some stupid shit and they just stand there w their hands crossed???yea pony started doing that LMAOOO

•angela made pony this bracelet w seashells, she was makin em w her fav aunt :3

•the whole family went to the beach and curly hit pony w a wet sandbl and IMMEDIATELY fell and got a cut on his knee by a seashell and i promise u, when there was a collective sound of “gade” (means look in creole) in a ‘well thats your karma’ way, i mean it

•pony and curly both have to share a place on the couch to sleep on so they r just all up on each other by the time 4am rolls around

•curly has this scarf thats used in haitian folklore dances and he is NOT using it to dance, hes using it to pull pony in by the neck or hips, i can feel it trust me on this

•one of the shepards family members is a snack vendor, like the kinds w the snack cart right outside schools, and they would always get free snacks, in return they helped w the homemade snacks they sold, but that goes as well as it can w pony and curly making food, they r NOT allowed to make fresco again

•curly would climb treats for fruits pony wanted he def would

•pony brought the gang lil souvenirs :P

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Tricky with a mime!reader? Classic clown and mime but mime!reader has like actual mime powers. Tricky is confused but interested!

Oh this is so cute <3 i love clowns and mimes n stuff

Tricky x Mime!reader

Despite the world being a hellscape, there were pockets of quiet, times of peace tucked away in the briefest of moments, like now, for instance.

A small crowd had formed, a few of them tossing loose monies into your little donation box while you performed for them. A child was in the crowd, front and centre with awe in her eyes, it was incredibly rare to see one. The world just isn't safe enough for them.

Performing was such an art, movements so fluid, as though what you were doing was real, your spectators threw a little more monies as you pretended to get struck by lightning while flying a kite.

Shaking off the sparks in your system, you switched to something more calm for your final performance, it was getting late, and soon this peaceful area would be rife with vamps.

Bending down, you plucked a bouquet of flowers, deeply inhaling their scent, before turning and offering them to the child. She giggled, and reached out for the fake gift, but the moment it left your hands, it took on a physical form. She was holding a handful of varying white flowers, daisies, snowdrops, baby's breath, and a proud white rose in the middle.

Stars filled her eyes. "How'd you dO THAT?" She squealed, clinging tightly to the first flowers she'd seen ever.

A single gloved finger pressed to your lips and you winked at her, mime magic. Taking a bow, you began to mime packing away your things, in actuality putting away some very real items to you.

"KEEP GOING, CLOWN WAS HAVING FUN!" You dropped your money box, scattering a few loose coins and notes onto the ground. Turning to face what you hoped wasn't real, you locked eyes with the mangled zombie clown, shaking in his uncontrollable way as his body tried to get rid of the excess energy pooling from the drive in his brain.

Terror filled your veins, you shook your head, acting out a vampire creeping along, before biting you.

Tricky laughed, enjoying your performance. "CLOWN LOVES SEEING OTHER CLOWNS IN THE WILD. YOU'RE DIFFERENT TO CLOWN, BUT CLOWN LIKES IT." He drove his stop sign into the ground, sitting down crossed legged like a child, ready to watch and learn.

It was going to get very dangerous shortly, judging by the encroaching darkness, on the other hand, in front of you was arguably the biggest threat in Nevada.

You held a hand out, suddenly feeling your clothing get wet, and you pulled an umbrella from your bag, trying to keep yourself dry. Tricky laughed and clapped, he was having fun.

The rain soon stopped, and you picked another item to play with, a tiny tricycle which you struggled to get on, before wheeling around in a few circles, Tricky's laughter getting louder and ... slightly more human sounding, under the screeching chaos, a softer male laugh could be heard. Strange...

"DO THE FLOWER THING, CLOWN LIKED THAT!" He suddenly lunged forward, and you reflexively put your hands up, and Tricky slammed into the wall of your mime box. "OUCH! WHAT IS THIS??" His clawed hands patted on the hard surface.

You took a step back, and mimed being stuck in a box. "THOSE... ARE REAL WALLS???" He tilted his head to the left like a curious dog. "CAN YOU TEACH CLOWN TO DO THAT??" Shaking your head in reply, a firm no. Even if you could talk and tell him how you did it, you doubted it'd work.

"NOT FAIR, CLOWN WANTS TO DO THAT. CLOWN WOULD PUT HANK IN A BOX AND SHAKE HIM!" Tricky laughed again, his body shaking violently as his hysteric giggles took over. "CLOWN WOULD MAKE HANK A PULP!"

You carefully picked up your stuff, including the money you dropped, while Tricky was preoccupied. He was being just a little too unhinged for your liking right now, and it was getting dark fast, vamps would soon flood this area for an easy meal.

"DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO GO? CLOWN WANTS TO HANG OUT MORE." You nodded to him. "...CAN CLOWN SEE YOU AGAIN?" A smile crept over your face, and you nodded, gesturing around at the park, you'll be around here sometime.

"CLOWN LOOKS FORWARD TO IT! CLOWN LIKES OTHER CLOWN!"

Clown likes clown too.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: Muriel's birthday

~ here's the other birthday I missed (September 10th) while I was on hiatus. enjoy! ^.^ ~

You know he doesn't like surprises. He doesn't like surprises at all

You also know that if he knew that you were planning something for his birthday, he'd draw the line at anything more involved than a cupcake, and even that would be stretching it

The solution is to make the kinds of plans he'll be okay with, and keeping the happy extra details to yourself

A picnic. Surely he'll be okay with a picnic on his special day, at least so that the friends who care about him can come by and wish him without the stress of having them in the hut?

He pouts, but he agrees, assuming that if he lets you have this then you won't trying doing anything else

He assumes wrong, in the most delightful way

You meet with all those invited one at a time, informing them of the picnic, making a suggestion or two for something fun to bring, and asking that (if they were planning on getting him anything) they send their gifts for him to you ahead of time

Because as much as Muriel is learning to accept nice things for himself, you know it's easier for him to do when he's not facing the pressure of multiple pairs of eyes

The morning of his birthday, you wake up while it's still dark

Inanna's snout is in your face, her wet nose snuffling in your ear as she cautiously straddles your sleeping figure and tries to wake you up without disturbing Muriel

This is something you have asked her to do - you don't know how else you'd be able to wake up and feed the chickens before he does

Getting out of bed without waking him is another matter. He's a heavy sleeper, sure, but he's also got heavy arms. Being pinned under them is a wonderful feeling until you're trying to sit up

Inanna guards you carefully as you walk outside to feed the chickens, collecting fresh eggs for breakfast before tiptoeing back inside the hut

It's a chilly autumn morning. The cold is already seeping into your bones after leaving the warmth of the furs and Muriel's steady supply of body heat, so you rush to build up the fire

The sounds of you starting breakfast don't wake him up. Neither does the slow brightening of the dawn through the window, or the growing fire in the hearth

No, it's the smell of mushrooms frying in the skillet

You try to convince him to sleep in a little longer, but he's already slept longer than usual without the hungry chickens scratching outside and Inanna pawing at his face

(the poor wolf does, in fact, get a fondly annoyed look for her betrayal, waking you up instead of him)

He's sleepy and relaxed and happy, bedhead falling over his stubble, morning voice even deeper than it already is

Eating breakfast together is a precious moment. He doesn't realize you're doing this for his birthday until you wish him, and his smile is slow and bittersweet. He never thought he'd have a birthday like this, but he's glad he does

You pull out his gifts afterwards. Warm clothes from Nadia, a fresh pouch of myrrh from Asra in a seventeen, now eighteen year long tradition, a salve for chapped hands from Julian ...

He grumbles over each one as though his fond smile isn't visible, taking his time to admire them before pressing a shy kiss to your temple in thanks

It gives him just enough time to plan his thank yous before you need to pack your picnic lunch and meet them out in the fields

Much to his surprise, it's easier than expected. There's no overwhelming crowds besides the curious ants that stop by

Between Nadia's social graces, Asra's old familiarity, and Julian's capacity to hog all the awkwardness, conversation flows seamlessly and Muriel finds himself quickly caught up in it

After you've eaten comes the one proper surprise you've prepared - flying kites

The autumn winds are brisk and cool, perfect for carrying the whimsical paper creations into the clouds

Watching the Countess of Vesuvia go sprinting down a hill with an excited shout trying to get her kite into the air is also quite the refreshing scene

The afternoon passes by faster than Muriel is used to. Soon enough, both the sky and fields are turning a fiery golden from the sunset, and it's time to head home

You give him some time to himself before dinner - it's been an unusually social day, after all - but he's more than happy to sit close to you as you roast vegetables over a campfire outside the hut

Sitting back against a fallen log side-by-side, feeling the cold nip at your noses while you snuggle together for warmth, smelling the smoke from the campfire as you watch it float towards the stars

The kisses you share there are sweet, happy, full of promises for a good year to come, and eventually, very sleepy

He might be used to feeding the chickens at dawn, but you're not. He's carrying you to bed

[ceapa-mica]

Family Life: Exile 🪁 - a Thrawn headcanon

My fingers did a high speed race on the keyboard writing this hc. I'm surprised they didn't fall off. 😄

Enjoy!

🔞 This is slightly NSFW 🔞 + angsty

Taglist: @bingbongooo @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @ele-millennial-weirdo @enaelyork @jesslove23 @thrawnalani @thrawnsboots @twincesskorisoka @davesrightshoe @shoe-bag @tearyeve @blackddarling @obbicrystaleo

Life in exile is not exactly easy, especially when confronted with the many dangers of Peridea and with an always curious daughter to keep safe…

In the blink of an eye you're confronted with a new reality - exile. (or in Thrawn's case exile from an exile lol) You quickly realize how dangerous Peridea is with the amount of troopers getting killed by faceless bandits while out exploring.

Since then Thrawn only sends out scouts when absolutely necessary and keeps most of the crew aboard the Chimera, safe for those in search of food. Otherwise you couldn't sustain the entire crew for much longer.

At first you're mad at your husband. You blame him for being exiled with no way to contact your family and friends, and you're not the only one.

You try to shield your daughter from the cruelty of the exile. There's a designated safe outpost for your crew where you spend some of your time. Catching fresh air and going for a walk under Peridea’s cloudy sky can lift the spirits.

She loves flying her hand crafted kite on the outpost’s rocky plateau. One time she actually put her little ysalamir on her kite. It survived, but what followed was a reprimand from her dad, telling her not to needlessly put lives at risk and that the lizard certainly didn't have any fun clinging for dear life onto that piece of fabric in the air. She never did it again.

Since there is no holonet connection on Peridea you and Thrawn teach your daughter everything she would usually learn at school in your quarters. That can't replace actual lessons with other children though. You soon realize that your daughter misses her peers from her holonet classes.

Not just the lack of friends her age but the entire situation affects your daughter’s behavior. She becomes less playful and more serious, leading to her being eager to learn more self-defense in her father’s dojo. Thrawn thinks it's a good thing. You are worried though.

Another thing you're worried about is the presence of the nightsisters. They claim that they're able to contact someone from your Galaxy, so Thrawn insists on working with them to return back home. You don't trust them though and keep your daughter as far away from them as possible.

Look, the perfect marriage doesn’t exist. Even your marriage with Thrawn has its ups and downs. You argue quite often during your time in exile. Thrawn never raises his voice though. This maker-forsaken planet weighs down on everyone’s mood, including yours.

Makeup sex helps a lot with that. Thrawn leaves more marks on you than usual. After so many years your sex life is still going strong. It's the perfect way to let out the pent up frustration with your unfortunate situation.

You’re not the only ones using sex to cope. Among your crew a few women end up pregnant and some not so secret weddings are taking place.

Meanwhile your daughter finds joy in learning how to ride a howler. She's not allowed to leave the outpost unaccompanied, a rule she doesn’t like at all. She still has this neverending thirst for knowledge and thinks the death troopers joining her on her trips through the Peridean wasteland are just slowing her down or disrupting her studies of the local flora and fauna.

One day she actually leaves on her own and gets captured by bandits. Fortunately your husband is a strategic mastermind able to track her down before it's too late. To say Thrawn was mad is an understatement. He reprimands her in a dangerously low voice and grounds her for an entire month. He was actually as scared for her safety as you.

Tbh Thrawn feels guilty af since you’re in this exile because of a mistake he made, and during that incident with the bandits he felt he let his family down again. He orders his best people to take out those bandits once and for all to make this place a little safer for all of you.

At the point your kid is 10 years old she's super interested in collecting and documenting rock fossils she finds on trips through the rocky wasteland. Thrawn thinks they are beautiful, telling her that nature is truly the greatest artist. A few fossils even find their way into his art collection.

Most people would consider a 10 year old too young to use a blaster. Thrawn on the other hand thinks it's the right age to get her used to the weapon. He takes it upon himself to teach her to shoot and gifts her her first blaster. He sleeps better at night knowing she can defend herself from a distance. The circumstances make it necessary for her to learn this skill this early, at least that's what he tells himself.

You take your daughter to the outpost almost every day at this point and show her how she can help out. You both help wherever you can. Collecting firewood and herbs for tea, cooking stews, building shelter, and even taming wild howlers.

Thrawn doesn't join you at the outpost, he's busy keeping everything running. Even in exile he takes his job as seriously as ever.

When you and your daughter return to your quarters at nightfall you can barely keep your eyes open. So when Thrawn returns after a busy day of keeping his troops motivated, and finds the loves of his life cuddled up on the sofa waiting for him, he feels at peace. He knows wherever his life takes him, you will follow.

Your daughter shows interest in helping babysit the offspring of your crew. Thrawn agrees, glad his little girl accepts that kind of responsibility. Soon she, and a few junior officers, look after a bunch of rambunctious toddlers. It keeps her occupied and playing with other children, despite them being eight+ years younger, benefits her mental health. She becomes more playful again and no longer feels like she has to grow up fast in this exile.

Thrawn is still busy working on a plan to escape Peridea. Seeing your daughter adapting to this exile makes you less worried for her. In fact, you get used to Peridea as well, without losing hope of returning home one day.

You know how much pressure lasts on Thrawn's shoulders, and you do your best to help him deal with it. He's so glad his family has his back at all times, and he knows that he's not really far from home, because his home is his family - you and your little girl, right there with him. As long as he's got you both, he is exactly where he needs to be the most. He's determined to return to your home galaxy though. He still has his mission that needs to be finished. Then, and only then, he will be able to introduce his loved ones to his homeworld and his people.

There is one more family life hc I'm planning. One thing we haven't explored yet is how Thrawn (+you) will deal with your daughter once she hits puberty. That will be the next and last family life hc coming soon.

[razorblade180]

Aether:Hey Charlotte. How are you liking Lantern Rite?

Charlotte:It’s beautiful! This is my first time celebrating a foreign holiday. Keqing really made me feel welcome. She’s quite the catch; very clever and sharp. Admittedly I’m surprised in her taste of significant others.

Aether:Meaning what exactly?

Charlotte:I just never thought they would be somewhat similar to my own. *snaps photo of him* Maybe it’s the midriff or earnest, adorkable smile?

Aether:*red* Still courting all the way outside of Fontaine. Speaking of which, do you want to fly kites together tonight?

Charlotte:Oooo, is someone trying to go on the offensive. I’ll bite. I’d love to fly kites with you. We can also grab dinner if you’re free? My schedule is wide open now that my article is finished.

Aether:If that’s the case then why not grab lunch right now?

Charlotte:Hmm, lunch, kite flying, and an open ended night. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re trying to spend the entire day with me?

Aether:And if I am?

Charlotte:Then that would make me pretty happy. Although now I have follow up questions. *steps closer* Courting has always come naturally and is somewhat fun for a Fontainian like myself, but. I’ve been told the people of Liyue admire straight forward approaches.

Aether:Pretty sure that’s more of a Keqing preference if I’m being honest, haha.

Charlotte:*smiles* It has its charm. Aether, is this a date?

Aether:Yes, I’m asking you on a date. Keep this off the record, but I’ve got a thing for a very cute journalist.

Charlotte:Off the record, she’s been very interested in you, and would love to spend the day together. Then at the end of the wonderful night, she’ll ask a very important question; and will be eagerly awaiting the answer.

Aether:Hehe, why not ask it now?

Charlotte:Because there’s never been a need to rush. It’s about the journey, right? It’s been chaotically fun.

Aether:Yeah, yeah it has.

Charlotte:Let’s go. *grabs hand* I’m in a wonderful mood! I might even tell you some more humorous topics I learned about a certain someone from Keqing.

Aether:That didn’t end up in any paper, did it?

Charlotte: Guess you have to read it and found out.