#yueng wai

[boardsdonthitback]

Sammo Hung, Yeung Wai - Warriors Two (1978)

[everythingfiction13]

In the middle of the night, with only the wind catching in her hair as she drove her Satomobile, Asami lazily turned around the corners of Republic City's streets, stopping at the traffic lights even when no one was in sight.

The radio was turned off - as it always was, she never did bother to put it on - and with one arm propped up on the window supporting her head, the other tapped nonchalantly against the steering wheel.

Nightmares had overwhelmed her yet again as she lay to sleep, and her dreams alluded her for something more sinister and foreboding. She missed being able to catch a proper shut eye, but ever since the events at that hangar with Bolin and General Iroh, ever since she's confronted her father, who had tried to kill her, Asami was plagued by the same recurrent images.

Hiroshi Sato looked over her in his mechatank, ready to deliver the final blow. Asami had been helpless then were it not for Bo taking charge and bending the earth to shield her. The scars from the glass shattering against her skin were long healed, Korra had made it a point to do so, perhaps in a bid to apologize for all that had transpired. After all, it was the Avatar who had taken the heiress's boyfriend from her, the Avatar who had exposed both her and her father as Equalists.

Though she had been acquitted seeing what she'd done to help the Team and with the press ever in the dark as to Asami's original allegiance, the young woman was given an inkling of freedom to roam about. She knew without a doubt that Chief Beifong would be watching her every move, waiting for Asami to slip up. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction, not much out remorse as to her scheming - though Asami did regret her actions - but rather out of spite.

The others had gone back to their routine, pro-bending matches carrying on, trainings at Air Temple Island, catching up with one another, but the invitation, though extended to Asami, felt more of an obligation than genuine interest.

The light turned green, but Asami lingered a while longer before setting her foot down on the pedal. Her breathing was shallow and constricted, and each attempt to take in a deeper one proved painful. Without even knowing where she was heading, Asami found herself parking at the docks.

The water over Yue Bay glimmered under the moonlight, a canvas of darkness reflecting the pale hue of the stars above. Asami sat on the hood of the car, arms crossed over her chest as she let her head drop between her shoudlers. She could not stand glancing up at the heavens, for fear that her memories - the good ones that were not tainted by hatred and anguish - overwhelmed her. How many times had she spent the late hours of the night stargazing with her parents? Yasuko had taught her much about the stars, but with each attempt to remember the names of the constellations, they seemed to slip further away from her. A stray tear trickled down her cheek, hot and unwelcomed, but Asami did not brush it away. Better let it out now in the stillness of the night than dwell over her emotions tomorrow as she tried to salvage whatever was left of Future Industries.

A shuddering breath escaped her, a sinking feeling settling deep in her heart, and for once, Asami wished her dad had actually killed her. At least he would have spared her the pain of having to go at it alone.

She sat at the edge of the bay and pulled her legs close to herself as she set her chin upon her knees. Everything felt heavy, the weight of it all threatening to drown her in a pit of despair, and for once, Asami could not see a way out of this. A yawn escaped her. It was time to head back home. Yueng, her steadfast butler, would be worried about her anyway, and Asami hated worrying him. In the wake of the scandal, her staff had all but left the Mansion, but Yueng had stayed, had taken Asami in his arms even though he rarely ever showed emotions, and let her cry on his shoulder. Perhaps she wasn't as alone as she thought she was, but the very thought of burdening Yueng with her petty nightmares did not sit right with her.

The streets were as quiet as ever as she made her way back, did not fail to notice the Satocycle following her along the city's streets per Beifong's orders. She sort of wished the officer would have sat down with her on the docks. Perhaps they'd get to one another, maybe be...friendly. But then, no.

Asami Sato had long been alone, and alone she would remain until all of her sins were atoned for. If it took an eternity, then so be it. She'd make things right again somehow. Somehow.

When she set her head against her pillow, much to comfortable, she noticed, Asami drifted into a dreamless sleep. The nightmares would come back to taunt her sooner rather than later, but for now, she was content to simply roam in the void of her mind.

[999-roses]

so I finally sat down and watched this movie. Overall enjoyed this movie, but I have my issues with it. I don't think the ending is sad [speaking as queer chinese diaspora but not mlm/gay]. I understand why this trailer was cut like this (romcom) but this isn't a romcom, it's much more dramatic/serious and touches on diaspora and racial topics that I find good discussion starters and mostly still relevant.

Things I liked, and my many nitpicks. spoilers ahead

Director/screenwriter Yueng really got the internalized racism down on Ryan. Taking "you're not really Chinese" as a compliment -- oof, that stings but a lot of us diaspora/ABCs know this is unfortunately common. I used to respond to "where are you from?" with "Oklahoma" or "Texas", well I still sometimes do depending on who's asking and their tone. Like Ryan's internalized racial hatred/conundrum even comes out in his behavior of only sleeping with white dudes. In direct contrast, I love how much pride that Ning has in himself being Chinese, even goes for the throat with "what do you know about June 4th?" (mildly disappointed that wasn't elaborated for the western audience, but then again there's not time to properly detail in this kind of movie). I love the casting for Ryan's parents, and the writing and acting, they're my favorite 😭😭😭. I also appreciate that the film doesn't go out of the way to explain butterfly lovers or Chinese opera, iykyk.

I have a bunch of nitpicks though about minor details though. There were a lot of things off about how Chinese culture is presented imo. For example, the first meet scene at the restaurant. Nobody would be that openly rude to Ryan, like calling him a banana to his face, at best they'd say "ah, you're not familiar with our culture. This is our way." and like show him how to eat crab. Also R/L liquid consonants are distinct in most Chinese languages, particularly with the Mandarin dialect spoken by Ning's cohorts, so I'm very 🤨 about that decision for Ning to originally pronounce Ryan's name as Lyan. I'm not saying it doesn't happen with Chinese speakers but R/L is more common with native Japanese speakers, so this speaks to me as a gross stereotypical "all oriental Asians speak like this" generalization from the writing/editing department. … and preference for sake?? girl what. are you telling me that an actor in a nationalistic movie about Nanjing of all places A. would even give [Japanese] sake the time of day and B. wouldn't be a baijiu king!!!!! I also have SERIOUS questions for who did the makeup+wardrobe for Ning's girlfriend. LMFAO for a movie about a "fashion stylist" they didn't take care to research what the street and gala fashion looks like in China. It's 2014, 2015, Hanfu movement has been in full swing, not even Angelababy beats her face like that. Also I think Ning was more southern China styled, ugh Beijing? Nah. Dude was more like from Shenzhen or at the very least Shanghai for the other Chinese city that white people would know.

Ending: I think Ryan's a bit of a bastard. His little press release comment was full of double-edged shade ("happy and confident with himself to be so accepting"). Soooo shady. No he didn't out Ning but his compliments were also calling Ning a hypocrite and a coward. But people and characters aren't nor should they be perfect.

I actually don't care about the two leads getting together in the end. However I would have preferred Ryan ending up actually visiting China for himself, and maybe even seeing a potential career there, because Ning is right, the economy and market are only growing over there, compared to stiff competition for fewer and often racist-colored opportunities in the west. Like... also seeing the gay scene in China for himself, because frankly, it exists, and Ryan should go check it out himself, we got a whole culture and history and it (the history at least, modern culture has some exchange) has nothing to do with westerner's version of gay or queerness. Ryan could totally find a Chinese boyfriend who's not closeted, and whose job isn't so high-publicity.

But at least it seems Ryan is more open to interacting with Asians/Asian community than in the beginning of the movie.

I do still think, with the type of nitpicks I had... idk. You see where I'm coming from though? One of the biggest themes of this film was "dismantling internalized racism" and "accepting who you are", but the movie committed stereotypes about China/Chinese that are incorrect to my experience and understanding, a faux pas on "knowing how you are".

Front Cover (2015) Official Trailer -  FRONT COVER is about handsome, openly gay New York City fashion stylist Ryan, who rejects his traditional Asian upbringing. Ryan is given an assignment to style Ning, a famous Chinese actor, for an important photo shoot. After a rocky start, an unlikely friendship develops between them, leading Ryan to examine his identity and consider an enticing new path for his life and career.

[skeletonfumes]

Angel Terminators (1992) Lieh Wei

[graphicpolicy]

Review: Edge of Spider-Geddon

Edge of Spider-Geddon is an excellent collection of one-shots and has us wanting more multiverse Spider-people! #comics #spiderverse

Spider-Geddon is coming but before that event get to know Spider-people from around the multiverse in this trade paperback collecting the four issue series and Superior Octopus #1.

Edge of Spider-Geddon is by Jed McKay, Lonnie Nadler, Zac Thompson, Gerard Way, Jason Latour, Aaron Kuder, Christos Gage, Gerardo Sandoval,…

[queenmagnusao3]

All In a Day’s Work - Final

I finished this fic today! Ended up with a couple bonus chapters and I’m overall super happy with this one! I’ll be starting on the “backstory” fics that go with this soon! Here’s the last chapter!

AO3 Link

Sora wiped her eyes as she sat down at her desk. This was the fourth time she had cried today and she cursed herself to get it together. It wasn’t a bad day but it was definitely bittersweet.

Today was her last day at the hospital.

After 52 years of caring for Republic City’s sick and wounded Sora Yueng was retiring at the spry age of 72. Her day had been mostly quiet, a few patients coming to give her gifts and well wishes and practically any healer she had ever trained had showered her with more flowers and sweets than she had ever seen.

She hadn’t thought much about what she would do once retired but she was looking forward to it. There were parts of the world she had never seen that she would have time to travel to now. She closed her eyes, smiling to herself when there was a soft knock on her office door. She opened her eyes to see a familiar waterbender quickly peak her head in before retreating quickly.

“I told you she’d still be here!”

“Kya, will you lower your voice. This is a hospital, you’re disturbing the peace.”

“What are you going to do, Chief? Arrest Me?”

Sora chuckled as she heard a small “ow” come from the waterbender, her office door opening to reveal Kya scowling and rubbing her arm. Lin had her arms crossed as she entered, glaring at her girlfriend. Sora stood up and walked to the pair, hugging each of them tightly.

“Heard you were retiring.”

“Something you might consider, yourself, Chief.”

“Oh! I’ve tried telling her that a hundred times! Every time I bring it up I get “Just one more year”. That started 3 years ago.”

“Kya, will you stop babbling. I’ll retire when the time is right. After Kuvira-“

“Kuvira was SIX years ago, Lin.”

“I haven’t found the right person to replace me yet.”

Kya rolled her eyes dramatically and Sora found her eyes tearing up yet again as she watched the couple bicker. She really needed to get her emotions under control if she was going to make through the rest of her day. Lin was about to retort to Kya’s latest jab when the earthbender closed her eyes and swayed slightly, grabbing onto Kya for support. Kya carefully directed her to sit in the chair that sat in front of Sora’s desk and the healer looked between the pair in concern.

“Oh yeah, we forgot to mention that Lin here hit her head pretty good.”

“Why didn’t you heal her?”

“I was going to, but the Chief insisted that you were the only one she trusted to heal her head. Complete nonsen-“

“I thought…”

Lin raised her voice slightly, cutting off Kya and giving her a look before turning to Sora with a smile.

“I might have you help me out, one more time. You know, for old time’s sake.”

Sora laughed quietly as realization hit her. The first time she had met Lin Beifong she had healed a small wound on her head. She didn’t bother stopping the tears as she nodded, taking position in front of Lin.

“There’s no need to get all emotional about it. I just…”

Lin’s voice trailed off as she quickly averted her gaze. Sora took in a breath and summoned her element, the familiarity comforting. There was a small bump on the back of Lin’s head but, much like the first time she met the eartbender, it was nothing serious. It took less than a minute to heal, Sora taking Lin’s hand once she was finished.

“I’m definitely going to miss you, Lin Beifong.”

Lin sniffed loudly, standing up quickly and nearly knocking Sora over.

“Well, thank you. We should probably-“

“Lin, will you just calm down for a second.”

Kya hooked her arm through Lin’s, holding her in place and gently rubbing circles on her arm.

“We were hoping you’d join us for dinner.”

Sora was surprised by the invitation, a grumble in her stomach practically begging that she accept. She wiped her eyes again and smiled broadly at the pair before nodding. She grabbed her coat and followed them out her office door.

“So, how’d Lin hit her head so hard?”

“It’s a funny story, really. Lin had her legs wrapped around my waist but she distracted me with her tongue and I lost my grip-“

“KYA!”

Lin’s face was bright red as she clamped a hand over her girlfriend’s mouth. She wouldn’t make eye contact with Sora as she dragged the waterbender outside as quickly as she could.

____________________

The three women approached a restaurant that happened to be one of Sora’s favorites. Brushing it off as just a coincidence that Kya and Lin had chosen this place for their dinner out, Sora didn’t have any suspicions as they pushed the doors opened.

“SURPISE!”

Sora jumped as a small crowd of people greeted her. She looked around and saw familiar faces everywhere she looked. Aiko and Yosuke smiled at her, both master healers themselves now along with half a dozen of her other former students. A few Republic City police officers, a couple she recognized as people she had personally treated after some pretty grisly injuries. There was another that she couldn’t quite place. Lin seemed to follow her train of thought, leaning in close to her.

“That’s the idiot that impaled me all those years ago.”

Sora laughed as she looked to Lin. The earthbender was smiling warmly, gesturing for Sora to greet her well wishers. There were other patients that she hadn’t seen in years and a few young people she didn’t know.

“You helped my mom deliver me! She passed a couple years ago but she always talked about you and I know she would have loved to be here.”

“You saved my dad. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”

“You helped me after I lost my sister.”

Sora gave her full attention to each of them, pulling them in for a hug as they told her their stories. As she made her way deeper into the restaurant she noticed a group of very familiar faces sitting at a table in the corner.

Tenzin and his family was there, as was Suyin Beifong and her husband. And sitting in the middle, her hair even more white and face more wrinkled than the last time she her, was Katara. Sora’s face broke into a smile and she started crying again as she walked to her mentor and knelt in front of her.

“I didn’t know you were in the city?”

“My grandson is to receive his tattoos this week and I decided to make a final trip to the city.”

At the look on Sora’s face Katara chuckled, taking her hands.

“Don’t worry yourself, I’m doing just fine. But, I think I’ve seen enough of Republic City for this lifetime. Now that you’ve retired you could come visit me in the South, you know.”

Sora nodded, gripping her hands tightly. At 95 the master healer made Sora herself feel almost like a kid again. She stood and looked around the room again. People were laughing and telling stories, the air warm and full of the smell of delicious food.

She had never married or had children of her own but as Sora looked around the room she knew she still had a group of people who loved and cared for her. An array of ages and professions, benders of all elements, and from all corners of the world.

A family of her own.

[inner-dreamscape]

Pink Skies pt. 2

Title: Sirens

Part One

Also posted on AO3

The electrical buzzing of the blinking 'VANCANCY' sign outside the motel was hypnotizing. Chuuya stared blankly down at his hands, splayed open in the red light, then splayed out in the darkness when the sign blinked back off again. Again and again, his hands appeared in a haunting cycle, each time the same. Nothing changed. Nothing he did afterwards changed the fact that his hands were stained red.

It was a day to celebrate but Chuuya couldn't fathom the happiness the others felt at his first successive kill. He had to leave. He had to escape. So, he ran back to the motel room the first opportunity he got and he spent the next two hours burning his skin under a hot shower and wasting all the soap in trying to clean the red from his hands. But no matter what he did, he couldn't erase it. Couldn't wash the stink and the stickiness away. That red clung to his skin as if that person's soul haunted him for what he had done.

His hands trembled, or maybe it was his entire body. He didn't know. He wanted to cry but the shock and disgust and the urge to scream all warred within him that no tears were able to be shed. So he just sat there, on the floor next to the single bed, staring at his hands. He couldn't look away from them, didn't want to look away. Afraid that looking away would dismiss the act that he had committed. That it would devalue a human's life even if that human was rotten to the core.

He didn't know how long he had stayed there but before he knew it, the sun was rising and the red light was washed out. The only thing left were his clean palms.

Just like that.

--

Chuuya peeled a hand away from hugging his knees to stare down at them. Without his gloves on, they were the same as back then, clean and devoid of any blood. But he knew better.

The guy he managed to track down went down easily enough. It was easy to set his death up like a suicide. So wracked with guilt about putting an innocent man in critical care that he ended up hanging himself. Too late to be saved before the cops descended on him to arrest him for the drunken hit and run. He only hated that he couldn't have made a mess out of him, for Dazai.

For Oda.

It's been a whole week since Oda got out of critical care. Ango and Kunikida have been taking turns watching over the kids, with Dazai helping out whenever he wasn't by Oda's side at the hospital. The first 3 days, it took both him and Ango to drag Dazai out of the hospital room in order for Chuuya to take him home to sleep. It became easier to convince Dazai to leave once Oda woke up to tell him himself.

True to Chuuya's prediction, the first meal Oda asked for was curry. Thankfully, the nurse scheduled was able to dissuade him from breaking doctor's orders. From then on, all the nurses assigned to him had to keep an eye on the visitors to make sure none of them brought in contraband food. They kept a very strong eye on Ango, much to the man’s chagrin.

Despite the emergency surgery Oda had to go under, he escaped the crash with internal abdominal injuries, a broken arm and leg, bruised ribs and a heavy concussion. He would have to undergo physical therapy once his arm and leg healed, but the doctors were hopeful that there wouldn't be any lasting damage. Chuuya was glad. He didn’t know how he would have handled Dazai if there had been lasting damage. The scars and disabilities reminders about how they both had failed to protect family.

The noise from the shitty TV suddenly rose in volume as the characters on screen screamed at each other. He wasn't really paying attention to it, having it on as background noise. It was one of those rare days that their neighbors were away and the floor was blessedly silent. The thin walls left little to the imagination and privacy a thing to be missed. But that night, he couldn't take it. The silence. So, the TV was on.

It helped to distract his raging nerves and anxiousness. But it could only help for so long. Flipping through the limited channels, nothing caught his attention that he could fully immerse himself in. Even the game system he and Dazai scrimped and saved up for, for a joint Christmas present to themselves (and to be honest, the kids for when they visited), didn't seem enticing. He sat there, watching the over acted drama play out on the small screen. By the time the protagonist was making her exit, he had fully chewed his thumb nail down to the skin.

His partner was still visiting Oda and would probably stay there until the nurses kicked him out after visiting hours were over. Maybe he had time to go out and buy some cheap wine before Dazai came back. He had finished his stock yesterday, using liquid courage to help him finish his plan. Perhaps he could get drunk and go to bed early, forget about today and not worry about tomorrow. He means, Dazai knew he was planning something like this right? Chuuya wasn't part of the goody-goody two shoes agency so he didn't have to feel guilty over what Dazai would think. If anything, he knew almost exactly what Dazai would think. That wasn’t the problem. No. What was the problem was that he killed when he didn't have to. He killed when he promised Oda that he wouldn't become a killer like the rest of the gang. He killed when he knew for a fact that Oda wouldn't have wanted him to kill the guy that ran into him. He would have wanted Chuuya to leave it to the police and let the justice system get justice for him.

But he had promised Dazai first. He had promised himself first. That he would do anything in his power and position to keep the two of them safe from the shadows of the underworld. He stayed in the Port Mafia to thwart any and all future attempts at the two traitors should they become a target again. He stayed to keep an eye on other organizations that might deem the agency an enemy.

Dazai might argue that Chuuya was doing exactly what he was supposed to do. Nothing more and nothing less. Chuuya would be deeply inclined to agree with his partner.

Still. What was done, was done and Chuuya had to live with that for the rest of his life. He was prepared to carry that burden. Maybe he could coerce Dazai into keeping this fact a secret between them. What's one more amongst many?

His other thumb nail was gone now too. His spiraling thoughts had taken him out of the false calm he had acquired from the mindless reality TV he had settled on. He was fidgety. Angsty. He couldn't quite stop the bouncing of his leg as he stared hard at the grainy screen. God, if only he had a cigarette to chew on…

"I'm home!" Chuuya strangled a curse. He let it loose anyway once he saw the blood beading up on his thumb.

Dazai stood in the genkan, brown eyes focused on him as he removed his shoes. Chuuya ignored him, sticking his thumb in his mouth to suck the blood away. He made a face at the metallic flavor that coated his tongue. He didn’t think he had bitten so hard.

"Chuuya's not going to say 'Welcome home'?" Dazai whined, hefting the takeout bag onto the coffee table. "Even after I went out of my way to bring him food?" He directed a pout at the redhead, hoping for some sympathy.

"Welcome home, asshole." Chuuya grumbled, rummaging through the food containers to sort out their own. It was Dazai’s turn to pick up food anyways, so he got no pity from him.

"Hm."

It was Chinese that night. Peeking into each of the cartons, he found sesame chicken, pork fried rice, white rice, kung pao beef, egg rolls and some lin yueng bau. He claimed the fried rice, kung poa and lin yueng bau for himself, pushing the rest to the other side of him for Dazai. He dug in.

"Chuuya." Dazai called, still standing from the spot beside the couch.

He grunted, mouth stuffed with spicy kung pao and eyes glued to the TV. He knew that tone of voice. He was the ‘we need to have a serious talk’ voice because they were doing that now. Talking. No more secrets between them, they had decided. He was going to try to waylay the inevitable but Dazai hadn’t been known as the Demon Prodigy for nothing.

"Chuuya." Dazai called again, reaching a hand out to turn the red heads face towards him.

Chuuya swallowed down his food, lips pulling down into a frown. "What."

Dazai stared at him intently, getting that furrow between his brows when he was displeased with something. The look made Chuuya bristle. A callus free thumb swiped the splattering of sauce off of puffy lips. A pink tongue couldn't help but dart out and lick the digit. Appalled at his own tongue, Chuuya ripped his chin away from Dazai's soft hands.

"What?" He asked again, annoyed.

"What's wrong with Chuuya." And wasn't that a loaded question.

"Nothing's wrong with me. Sit down and eat already." He took his own advice and went back to eating.

Dazai sat down, but didn't make any moves to eat. He was still staring at Chuuya and Chuuya had no doubt in his mind that Dazai was figuring things out. He always did. He was the only person in the whole world who understood him to his core and he him in return. So he knew that Dazai was gearing up to have a serious talk, but honesty? Chuuya didn't want to have it. Yeah, he knew he would have to discuss this at some point, but not right now. Not tonight. His refusal to look at Dazai signified that.

The slender hand reached out again, this time, grabbing for the takeout carton. Chuuya made a noise a protest, but ultimately had to let it go if he didn't want the beef and bell pepper to fall from his chopsticks. He watched as the container was set back onto the table with the rest of the food. He slowly ate the rest from his chopsticks to prolong the conversation.

"You killed someone." Dazai stated, not asked. Because he knew. Chuuya didn't have to ask how he came to that conclusion. Dazai's seen him plenty of times after missions where he was forced to kill someone in self-defense and Chuuya was exhibiting those habits right in front of him. "Who was it?"

"No one you know." His leg started bouncing again. ‘When had it stopped?’

"Liar."

Chuuya glared. "It's true! It's not someone you know." Technically it was true. Dazai didn't know that guy's name. Chuuya didn't know either but to-ma-to, to-mah-to.

"But I know of them. You're more…keyed up than usual. That only happens when it's someone we have in common." A light seemed to go off in his head. "It was that guy."

"What guy?" His heart beat faster. He knew.

"The one that hit Oda." One look at Chuuya's face confirmed his answer. He smirked lightly. "I'm right."

"Whatever." He mumbled, reaching for the food.

Dazai stopped him. Chuuya groaned, leaning back into the couch.

"How did you do it?" Chuuya didn't like the look that infiltrated those brown eyes. ‘He shouldn’t have those thoughts’ he remembered thinking once. More than once because old habits die hard, and yes it was a habit. Until Dazai taught himself better, he knew the other would still be having them. And hadn’t that been the part of the reason he had stayed in the Port Mafia in the first place? To protect the both of them but also to help foster that new outlook on life; that life was worth something more than the pain and suffering of others at your hands.

Discussing this situation was going to be hard without bringing Dazai’s bloodlust back out from wherever it was buried. But Dazai had agreed to Chuuya’s terms of handling the guy himself, so it was a start.

"No. We are not going to talk about this. I'm not going to tell you how."

"I can always look it up." He threatened.

"Not if I ask you not too. And not if you want to keep this just between us." Chuuya fired back.

"Are you?"

"What? Going to ask you not to look it up?" Dazai nodded.

Chuuya remained silent, thinking about his answer. He wanted to say yes. Keep everything buried deep down under, and he knew that Dazai would take his request seriously. But that's how things ruined. It would fester and fester until it was eating him up inside. Until there was nothing else left inside him. Didn't they say the best thing for a wound to heal was to let it breathe?

Letting Dazai look up the information saved him from having to say everything out loud. And wasn't he just a right coward for thinking it in actuality.

He wasn't a coward.

"No. No I'm not." And Dazai smiled at him, pleased. They've come a long way into their relationship. "But I am asking that you not do it right away. I'll tell you. Later. Just…not right now, okay?"

"Okay." Dazai slid the hand that was holding Chuuya's arm, down until he was holding Chuuya's hand in his own. He gave the smaller one a reassuring squeeze. "That’s all I ask."

Chuuya silently nodded.

"Are you still hungry?" Their food was probably already cold.

"Not that much, no." He lost most of his appetite at the mention of his heinous deed.

The leg that was not curled up on the couch supporting their hands was still bouncing. It stilled briefly at the heavy sigh that escaped from Dazai. The other's hand left his for a moment, fishing in his back pocket for something. Chuuya silently missed the warmth.

Dazai pulled out an unfamiliar packet of cigarettes. He shook one out, gripping it with his mouth and pulling before shaking another out and offering it to Chuuya. It strangely reminded Chuuya of the morning in front of the hospital.

‘A lot of things are.’

Curiously, he took the cigarette, holding it up to his nose to sniff it. There was a fruity scent about it, different from the spice and tobacco from their usual. Seeing the question on his partner's face, Dazai told him, "They're new. The company just came out with them a month ago; fruit flavors. That one's strawberry." The painted ring underneath the filter was red. Looking over, Dazai's was yellow. Lemon.

Dazai pulled out a lighter and lit his, taking a deep breath to get the smoke going. The scent of lemons surrounded them as smoke escaped those parted lips. Intrigued and impatient, Chuuya leaned forward with his own cigarette tucked between his lips, pressing the tip against the smoldering end of Dazai's.

He didn't notice the deep inhale from Dazai, or the widening of his brown eyes. Instead, he focused on keeping the tips pressed together, trying to light his own. After a few seconds, the cigarette started catching. He moved back a little to see if it was enough when his eyes caught Dazai's. Blue eyes took in the heated look that covered Dazai's face.

The scents of lemon mixed with strawberry wafted into their noses as Chuuya's started burning. Slowly, Dazai reached out to pluck the stick from Chuuya's mouth and his own before crashing his lips onto the shorter.

Chuuya could have sworn he heard Dazai mutter into his mouth, "Beautiful" as he returned the kiss.

The kissing didn't last long and the strawberry stick was shoved back into his mouth. Rolling his eyes, he took a drag, tasting the flavor on his tongue. It was tart from the taste of Dazai and lemon, and Chuuya couldn't bring himself to hate it.

"I like the strawberry." He said at last, taking another taste.

He felt a weight on his left side as Dazai tipped over, resting his head on Chuuya's shoulder.

"Hm, I like the lemon." Dazai smiled, releasing the smoke in Chuuya's face.

"It's sour like you, no wonder." The redhead teased.

"And you're red, your point?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "Shut up, shitty mackerel."

They spent the rest of the evening bickering and watching trash TV, cuddled into each other. They didn't talk about the drunk driver again that night, thankfully. When they crawled into bed around 2 in the morning Chuuya felt like himself again. He peeled his hands away from Dazai's back to look at them once more. They were clean. Sighing, he cuddled Dazai closer to himself, burying his face into fluffy brown hair. There will always be blood on his hands, whether they were clean or not, but he had Dazai there to help with the burden of it. That was all he could ask for.

The distant sound of sirens, filtered faintly into their bedroom.

[myherorp]

THE QUIRK DATABASE HAS BEEN UPDATED !

incoming information on general studies student, jeon mingyu.

get to know them !

faceclaim: han jisung

name: jeon mingyu

gender & pronouns: cismale, he/him

age: 19

year group: third

department: general

reputation: mingyu gets along well with his peers and does all his projects on time. he’s by no means a teacher’s pet, but he thinks there’s no harm in staying on their good side. despite this, he’s sort of a classic class clown, still he keeps everyone at an arms’ length. he wants to befriend everyone but he doesn’t let anyone truly befriend him, in a sense.

the quirk!

quirk name: undead

quirk description: essentially, mingyu’s body is dead, safe for the fact that his senses still work. he won’t die if he doesn’t eat or sleep.

abilities: 

he can survive fatal injuries, retrieve severed limbs and regenerate his body if damaged. 

he can leave his body in the form of spirit, too. 

there is a significant increase in his physical strength, but it in no way compares to quirks centered around physical strength. 

in other words, his body is only directly influenced by his own brain. for example, even if his own arm is broken, his brain can force the body to continue using it.

weaknesses:

like a curse, he can still feel pain. despite not needing to eat or sleep, he can go hungry and he isn’t prone to being lethargic.

his body does begin to decay, he needs to constantly strive for physical contact to extract a sort of life-force to prevent this. day-to-day contact suffices (for example, bumping someone’s shoulder in the bus), usually.

when leaving his body as a spirit, he can only do so for 15 minutes. if he stays outside his body for too long, his body will rot faster.

he isn’t immortal. a shot to his brain is insta-kill, another would be to keep his spirit away from his body for as long as possible.

he doesn’t have a heartbeat. his brain is the only organ of his that still functions ‘normally’.

mutation: his body can physically decay.

the history !

triggers: child abuse, murder

i. 

mingyu needed a hero of his own.

as a child, he thought they were amazing—adorning their eye-catching costumes, circling the premises as if their life depended on it, rescuing whoever it was no matter what. going back in time, he recalled instances where he wanted to wear those same capes, desired nothing more than to help those in need to the best of his abilities. heroes would be showered with praise, loved to the ends of the earth for their services.

if they were within vicinity, everything would be alright, it seemed. they will save you, keep you safe—that was their duty, the reason they exist.

they didn’t become heroes for nothing, after all. surely, he’ll encounter his own special hero one day, just like the ones he had seen on television. maybe, he’d be one of them one day, if the world allowed him to be. that was the dream, to have a hero take his hand and lead him out of the dark and into the light.

but for now, he had to focus on surviving until tomorrow.

“mingyu!” he could hear his father call, making him wince. no matter how many times he hears it, he could never get used to the sound of his father’s drunken slurs, the stomps that echoed throughout their small apartment. it didn’t take long for his father to reach him, there was nowhere mingyu could run. his father’s legs were longer than his, he couldn’t outrun him either way.

no, all he could do was take whatever his father was throwing at him and wait for his saving grace.

ii.

mingyu wondered what it was that made others worth saving, how long he had to wait for his dark days to end, how much he had to endure before someone, anyone, will hold out their hand to him.

he wasn’t sure when the first time happened. his arm bent backwards, elbow seemingly crushed. it happened before his father’s eyes—his bones rearranging themselves, popping his arm back into place, all he knew was that it hurt. his throat ached from screaming, voice thinning as he slowly lost it. for once, his father only stood there, watching as everything unfolded.

“so you aren’t a quirkless bastard after all,” was his only remark. his father didn’t say any more, wordlessly continuing what he was doing instead. the more mingyu’s body tried to fix itself, the harder his father went. and for his father, who was a hero of the old days, renowned for his physical strength, it was easy to go on as long as he wanted to.

mingyu stopped eating. he stopped drinking. he stopped breathing. his heart stopped beating. he felt like he was bleeding, but he couldn’t taste the iron.

mingyu died that day. no one came to save him.

iii.

reincarnation, the rebirth of a soul. the rebirth of the aspect of an individual that persists after bodily death—whether it be consciousness, mind, the soul, or some other entity—in one or more successive existences.

it took mingyu’s vessel to die for him to realise that he needed to save himself.

what came from a dead body that continues to push itself past is limits, is that his strength was no longer measured by normal means. mingyu needed years to realise that he could fight back, that his father was all brittled bones and his own could no longer stay shattered. he only struggled for 20 minutes, before he managed to escape his father’s clutches, running out of the house. his ankles were twisted, ribs broken, swaying as he walked. he eventually stumbled upon a hero, concern laced on their face.

his father, proud and stubborn, refused to lose. even to another hero, one he seemed to recognise. but his father’s only practice for the past few years was beating up his own son senseless, he wasn’t prepared to face a hero who made headlines.

instead, his father chose death—coward that he was.

but it seemed even cowards had more worth than he did, because the next thing he knew, the same hero who he thought brought him out of the dark told him that mingyu couldn’t speak of this to anyone. “your father was a hero to many, if word got out that he was actually like this… he was my friend, an inspiration to other heroes. he saved many people during disasters that you can’t possibly comprehend, life-changing events that you thankfully didn’t have to experience. you understand, don’t you?”

that was when he realised, his father had been one of those heroes he had seen so often on television, the same ones mingyu idolised ever since he laid his eyes on them. even though his body could no longer function that way, his stomach churned, a lump forming on his throat.

mingyu laughed, throat tight, but he nodded all the same.

“yeah.”

he’ll never become his father.

iv.

time continues to flow. the world moved on, and mingyu had to as well.

staying in an orphanage for so long, mingyu thought it was about time he give up on getting adopted. life had other plans, however. suddenly, he was no longer mingyu—he was jeon mingyu, the adopted son of two loving parents who wanted nothing more than the best for him. his parents pushed him to strive for the best, and that meant yueng-ung academy.

life seemed better then, the years that lead up to this point felt like a blur, a fever dream that he’d be happy to forget.

but it was impossible to, when mingyu passed a boy who looked just as frail as he was, bruises littered all over his body, the same fear he had seen on the mirror too many times evident in the boy’s eyes.

heroes have their plates full, they say. all their attention were on the inevitable attack of villains, preventing doomsday, natural disasters that will undoubtedly claim many lives. in that case, someone has to look out for the little guys, right?

donning a self-designed costume, helping out those that can’t reach out to heroes who seem too far away—he can do that much. no one else wanted to.

he didn’t want to be a hero, he just doesn’t want anyone else to have to wait as long as he did.

the personality !

mingyu tends to keep to himself. he is anxious when it comes to interacting with others, especially those he isn’t familiar with. in groups, he’s usually the mood-maker to make up for the fact that when conversing with people on his own, he’s rather quiet. his social battery runs out pretty quick, so after throwing out jokes and making people laugh, you can find him on his own listening to music or doing something else in his lonesome. in truth, he craves close connections, he doesn’t know how to go about keeping them.

he may come across as immature and brash at first, mostly because he wasn’t taught proper etiquette, coming from a dysfunctional home life. he also has a lot of pent up emotions buried within. he hasn’t figured out a healthy way to release them yet; outbursts are to be expected, although they come rarely. having a body that can basically act as a punching bag, there are times when he might not be able to understand other people’s pain, both emotionally and physically.

despite his bad experience with heroes, he holds no grudges against the heroes themselves, but the system. he wouldn’t, by any means, hold a prejudice against someone simply for being a hero. this, however, may apply to villains as well. he doesn’t see any sides, he doesn’t accept that everything is so black and white. as a vigilante, he is ruthless and doesn’t hold back. this is the only way he knows, so far, for how to release some of his anger. he doesn’t try to take a life, and so far there has been no need to. but if push comes to shove, he isn’t sure he’ll keep his clean record.

[allmusic]

AllMusic Staff Pick: Coldplay Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends 2008

On the heels of their ambitious Everyday Life, issued in November, it's worthwhile to revisit this 2008 opus, which found them abandoning their self-imposed (though highly successful) early formula in a major way. Beyond the ubiquitous title track, a bevy of treasures lie nestled within the Brian Eno-helmed set, including the urgent "Cemeteries of London," the pure joys of the poppy "Strawberry Swing," and the glorious spiritual uplift of "Death and All His Friends."

- Neil Z. Yueng

[ptw30]

What did the EP's do to the VA's? You said something about them throwing shade at Kimberly Brooks and have now put Steven Yueng in a bad position. Could you clarify because I'm too scared to read the interview.

One the last Afterbuzz - not last night’s but the one before it - the EPs said they told Kimberly way out, that Allura was going to die. But all evidence - from Kimberly leaving Twitter and returning the exact same day as Josh Keaton, to Kimberly’s interviews prior to the end of the season - seem to say otherwise. 

Kimberly is a consummate professional, and she’s good at deflecting questions/answers. Also considering the VAs refused to answer questions about Season 8 after it dropped and someone asked Kimberly what the worst part of Season 8, and Kimberly responded with - more or less, “What do you think?” but in a professional manner - I can’t really see her knowing and having been okay with it. I don’t. 

As for Steven - a young fan asked Steven about the leaks in early December. Steven even didn’t know about them, and the young fan brought them up on her phone. Steven assured her they were not real. Supposedly, the line was, “Yeah...those aren’t real.” 

So he assured a fan, who then spread that around the fakes weren’t real. Those leaks also included Allura dying.

Is it hearsay? Yeah. Totally. But does it make sense? Yeah, I could see that happening. And if I were Steven and I reassured a fan - man, would I feel bad, even though it’s not my fault. And Steven then comes across as not knowing the story either - which...Steven, too, is a professional. 

It just shows - not even Steven, who stayed far away from the fandom and its drama - couldn’t even escape the EPs’ issues. 

[skysuper6-blog]

Youth Soccer World Cup

This year in South Africa relatively few countries have utilized extremely youthful players. Out of 736 entertainers there are just 7 players beneath age 20, which implies short of what one percent. In this way it unquestionably can't be known as the young soccer world cup.

The African countries are typically exceptionally enthusiastic about bringing their young players along. They probably won't have a notable youth soccer title like it may occur in some European nations, yet customarily they have taken an interest with them.

Anyway this time Ivory Coast didn't have one player underneath his 20s. The Super Eagles of Nigeria remembered just a single player for his adolescents, the Monaco midfielder Haruna Lukman thus did Ghana.

Switzerland had Xherdan Shaqiri a multi year old, who isn't playing in the adolescent soccer competition any longer, as he played very well with FC Basel this season. Denmark had the most youthful player by and large, Christian Eriksen, who is going to turn 19 just next February and was brought up in a few youth soccer groups until he wound up at Ajax.

For the festival of youth soccer there is the Hyundai Best Youth Player Award, which is given to the youthful soccer player with the most effect in this 2010 World Cup. Criteria, for example, extraordinary abilities, energetic and reviving playing style, innovativeness and motivation, strategic development and productivity, fan acknowledgment because of engaging exhibitions, good examples for youthful players and inspirational mentality reasonable play are considered when choosing the player.

On Saturday 26th with the beginning of the new stage after the primers there were six up-and-comer players for the "fifa" youth soccer grant, Ki Sung-Yueng from South Korea, Nicolas Lodeiro from Uruguay, Jonathan Mensah, Samuel Inkoom and Andre Ayew from Ghana and Jozy Altidore from USA acting in various matches. The players of Uruguay and Ghana will have more possibilities as their groups are still in the World Cup.

Who knows whether the mentors carry on similarly when training youth soccer players? All the time they are increasingly intuitive and might not generally pursue the exhortation of the more established colleagues in their group, nor the one of the mentor. For instance a case, that was a major hubbub in Italy before the world cup, was the situation of Mario Ballotelli, playing for Inter Milan, who was not brought despite the fact that an exceptionally gifted player, on account of his absence of order. He unquestionably would not have won the Youth Soccer World Cup Award!

Contact Us:

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[smokebreakblog]

4/20 in Nashville...

Maaaaaaan, that was the dopest show I’ve had in my shitty lil career. One that was filled with Love, herb, alcohol, friends, vibes and ENERGY. The coolest aspect had to be getting to share a road trip with my Little sister (by a year). Getting to see her experience life outside of the village I’m from was dope enough for me...so if you want to read some deets, let me hear you say....JK, I ain't THAT corny...lets get it..

intro to it all, took shots of tequila with my cousins the night before...Not a good idea when you have to deal with Enterprise in the AM needing way more forms of ID and shit,,,that I don't have..caused us to get on the road wayyyy later than expected...which in then turned into Blind ass Christian, Driving in a four lane highway...With a downpour of rain...and a sister in the passenger seat thinking my vision is better than it is...but nonetheless we made it to Madison TN..Where we got to link up with some of the funkiest motherfuckers I've come to know. The Weird sisters..Sir Izaac (the guy shredding in all the videos I have, also my guest DJ).

We were met with a basement full of people putting in work on these big ass ring girl style cards for their set..in font of what had to be about 8 old style TVs, hooked up to a VHS player..which was playing the 98 olympics...We got stoned, we geeked out over a throwback eat N Park videos...and I ordered my fat ass some food, which resulted me putting IZ on to Lemon Pepper flavored wings..I know right? how doesn't he already know about that sacred flavor?? I”m just glad I was there for his first time...Pause..

Now Play..

fast forward to 4/20 and My soundcheck is at 4p....show doesn't even start till 9p..and bruv/Bruvette..when I tell you that I was so excited to have an hour to myself for the set, ya’ll need to believe me..because I’m used to shows where soundcheck is literally like 30 mins before the doors open...or in some cases while the people are coming in (Fuck me right??) anyways...the coolest shit happens...so at this venue, there's mad floors, different rooms..so like...upstairs there was like a wedding reception or some shit...nonetheless they were getting on with their event during my soundcheck one of the guest comes in...at the time I thought he was like security for some shit,...but no...he was a guest. so I start flexing and shit..rapping all crazy being all extra..feeling my shit..so like I open my eyes and look over and there’s like 4 of em...just chillin mouth open all sick..

“How it sound?” I asked

“Really fucking good bro”- in my best white dude voice. 

after soundcheck we still had like 4  hours to kill...so instead of napping like I planned on...My sister wanted to go do some shit..So we walk down the road to this little jazz joint and come across a man playing the bass and crooning so smooth...Name was Shawn Munday. I kept it V PA and ordered myself a Yueng..and vibed the fuck out...

I wish we had more shit like that back home...

ANYWAYS...

doors open and the people start coming in...I remember looking at Izaac and asking 

“yo how many people you think will be here??”

“Oh we’ll at least bring in 100.” he said casually..

I’m embarrassed to say I don't see many crowds like that...But thanks to The Weird sisters and The morning After Crew..I got a taste of big crowd energy...and yo I have to say..It felt natural as a Mf yo..It made me want to shed my existence as a little store manager trying to make it to Full Nomad until I get mine..The crowd listened to every word..I know this because f the many people I ran into trying to get a drink after my set reciting lines that they heard for the first time during a set that day...on 4/20 at that...and again..Im not talking my shi or flexing...I’m still high off the vibes..

SIDENOTE...You can watch the Live feed On my IGTV ----> [here]<-----

After the Weird Sisters and The Morning After Crew threw down and put the crowd into even more of a fit..I ran up to announce the after party one last time...we took pictures with people in the crowd, closed our tabs and packed up..I didn't drive btw...of course not I wanted to drink...so we run into this Lyft driver who was at the show,...who happened to be off duty...who happened to be going to the after party...so call me crazy, but I took that ride..Me, my sister and this dope ass dude who I will not name..but he did pass me a packed cone and showed love about the set. We get back to an after party that was actually pretty lit. handles of liquor, bong packs, doobs...L’s...Etc..we rode the waves into the wee hours of the night...and so this doesn't turn into a ramble...Im going to list a few things here that I feel people should Abide by..

Don't be the dick at a party that imposes on somebodys joint...You really bout to come through and like not even ask just look at me like yo let me hit that..My nigga I don't even know your name...Were you even at the show?? FOH

and that’s it...I was gonna smack that MF...but whatever, good vibes..not my crib..keep it moving..

In the end, my sister DID get to go kick it around nashville the next day..ate, laughed..made memories I don't need to share with ya’ll and I’m just happy I can do that with the music I make..That’s dope af to me..ont he last morning my sister and I packed a couple bowls...rolled a few for the road..wrote a goodbye note to the sleeping musical geniuses and hit the road..there is so much that I left out but that’s for us..go experience your own shit..It’s fun.

since we  made it back...I’ve been having a terrible itch to quit my job and just attack this shit..but i need to calm my shti down real quick,...

Or do I?...

Until Next time...

P.L.G 

Dowatchulike 

-MULU

Now I leave you with this Gem...

Miss ya’ll.

[kyogos]

Football asks! All the even numbers? ❤️❤️❤️❤️ (Sorry if its a lot :c)

AHHH I LOVE YOU 💕💕💕

2. What team do you hate the most?

Many. Barça, L’pool, City, Chelsea, Spurs, Rangers, the list is endless. But Mainly the first 3 + Rangers

4. Which league is your favourite?

Got to be the Premier League. It’s the league I watch most and know the best. I’m more likely to watch a random EPL match than I am any other league

6. What’s your NT? Is that also your favourite NT?

I’m England ‘till I die 🦁🦁🦁

8. Who’s your favourite European player?

Current? Iker Casillas

All time? Becks or Gary Neville

10. Who’s your favourite Asian player?

Current? Sung-yueng Ki

All time? Ji-sung Park

12. What team did you support growing up? Do you still support them?

I grew up loving Man United, Celtic, and Real Madrid, and I still adore them now (I only love the best 🙊)

14. Favourite Bundesliga club?

I can honestly only name you one (1) German club and that’s Bayern Munich

16. Favourite Ligue 1 club?

Again, I know nothing, but maybe Monaco purely for Cesc?

18. Favourite club outside the Big 5 Leagues?

CELTIC 🍀💪🏻 (Also Porto, I love those funky lads)

(Scottish Premiership and Primeira Liga)

20. Favourite defender?

God, I love defenders so much

Current? Dani Carvajal (And Sergio, even if he doesn’t defend much 😂)

All time? Gary Neville and Rio Ferdinand

22. Favourite attacker?

Ooo, okay, difficult one

Current? Gareth Bale, Harry Kane and Leo Messi (I can’t and won’t choose)

All time? Ole Gunnar Solskjaer

24. Which big tournament is your favourite? (WC, CL, Euros etc)

Definitely the World Cup and Euros, I love international football so much

26. Which stadium is your favourite?

The Theatre of Dreams; Old Trafford

28. Who’s the most famous player you’ve seen live?

Can you believe I’ve never seen any professional match in the flesh? I met Troy Deeney tho 🤷🏻‍♂️

30. How many football shirts do you own?

None that fit me! I think I may still have my Celtic kit from when I was a kid, but I haven’t bought any shirts in recent years. I should, but that’s a lot of money…

32. Who’s the best player in the world?

Current? David de Gea (I will fight on this) also Leo Messi. I truly think Leo is the undisputed goat at this point

(I was gonna do all time, but I’m not sure if I rank anyone above them)

34. FIFA/Football Manager?

Neither? PES? idk???

36. Who was your first favourite player?

The longer I think about this, I’m convinced it must be Becks, because I think Michael Owen would have still been at Liverpool when I was ¾ years old (and I was never going to pick a Liverpool player). But it’s definitely either Becks or Mickey

38. Why/how did you start liking football?

Played it, watched it, loved it as a kid. There’s no definitive moment where I remember watching it for the first time, it’s just always been a constant in the same way F1 has been. Football was a rite of passage growing up in England. Scraped knees from playgrounds, grass stains from fields, it was my childhood. I played with the lads, I played tournaments, I watched it, I lived it. It’s just….always been there, you know?

40. Put together your dream XI.

Okay I already done this one, but I could honestly do it again bc I just love and admire that many players 🙊😂

[driftwork]

minus [-]2 an act of euthanasia

She looked at the sheet of information, Toshiro Yeung, just him? Just him. There isn't very much information.  She smiles at them. Be good, she says, she standing up, puts the gun under her coat.

It was the last week of Toshiro Yeung's life.  He was a contract negotiator lost in the shims of the criminal machine he worked for and supported. On this early Monday morning, perhaps it was 7AM  he was followed down the street by a woman dressed in casual office clothing. In other words she is invisible to the world. From his earliest childhood the days of his weeks were distinguished  by the various destinations and the mixture of Japanese and European mythological names,  the variations, the differences highlighted the greyness of the repetitive weeks that he had lived for the past decades.  Even his marriage and the birth of the child had failed to introduce colour into his repetitive weeks. Here though its Monday and he is travelling across the city to the hospital where the tests he will never see the results of will take place, they will show he has early onset viral Alzheimers. He will die on Friday morning on the way to the hospital to be told about his terminal disease.  Perhaps for you, like him, each day is a different colour - Monday being grey sand and dust, Tuesday's a sandy brick dust colour, Wednesday a depressing deep blue, Thursday a mindless green-grey and so on.  These daily colours are shades of grey for Toshiro Yueng, the differences are scarcely noticeable during the days, from the lightening early morning, brilliant midday, fading into the evening shade and the neon lit evening. Though before this last week Toshiro Yeung would have said that the days sometimes swapped places, for example black Friday might swap places with silver-grey Sunday. Toshiro Yeung was in  short a grey based existentialist. Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday could switch places according to the demands of his working time, his family were nothing according to this weekly regime. Even on the last ever Sunday he had worked in the silver light  according to the demands of his employers.  Sunday like Saturday were merely days for additional exploitation according to his employers. None of this matters for the approaching week will be defined by the Friday, a real Friday defined and described by the woman who is following 10 metres behind him in the tunnel, into the Metro carriage, leaning against the handrail. She looks, watches and sees nobody who wants to protect this man, this husband and parent.  Toshiro Yeung's last week of life begins with her watching him enter the neurological department,  the MRI hums, the images are recorded, blood-tests are taken. We will check the cultures and brief you on Friday morning... She listens by the door. A  bleak Monday she thinks. His office is on Heidelberg, he enters carrying coffee from the chain.  She takes notes. Surfs the net to find information. The nature of Monday is identified as she follows him onto the rooftop of the building where the salaried workers smoke and admire their terrifying bosses. On Tuesday she follows him to the office again, the differences only revealed by the bag he collects. He attends a meeting in the late afternoon is in a safe house in Shinguko, she watches the guards accompanying the attendees. One of them probably.  On the deep blue Wednesday, whilst the child is at the school she follows his wife who goes to the cinema, then she  thinks of the three or four things she could know about her, as his wife  goes to the temprun house to earn money for services.  Cinemas and restaurants may be quiet but bodies are never quiet,  this woman,  who is dressed in casual office clothing, thinks of Toshiro Yeung's wife as a few hours pass. She leaves her at the temprun house and goes back to his office to follow him home on the Wednesday evening. On the grey-green Thursday the weather begins to change and he stays in the office all day apart from taking lunch at the plastic curry bar. She watched him, invisible from the corner.  In the early evening the contract negotiator collects a carpet bag full of money and takes it home. Is that why? The woman thinks as she sits in her car reading the death sentence on Toshiro Yeung again.  In the morning, at 6AM she returns, dressed in black jeans, killing boots, teeshirt, kelver lined black jacket, a black hat, glasses.  He leaves the house nervous because of his appointment at the hospital, where he would be told he has a degenerative brain disease, Alzheimers they would say for. He is carrying the carpet bag.   The early morning of this last morning of Toshiro Yeung's like seems normal to him,  perhaps it could have fallen after he told his wife that he was dying,  tears streaming onto her body,  after he told her how unfair it all was. His wife will receive a pension, become a salary woman,  her work at the temprun house will end.  It's a soft drizzly day as he walks down the steps to the train, standing in his usual place.  He thinks of not going to the hospital.  She steps behind him, hooks her fingers round the handle of the carpet bag and nudges him in front of the express train.  As he falls he turns and sees the face of his killer, nestling at the end of his life. In the late afternoon the woman takes the carpet bag to her money launderer.  Not sure if its clean she says,  it might be, treat it as if it isn't...  She nods to the guards and vanishes into the city. 

A few days later, after attending some lectures on the Imaginary Institutions of Society she goes to the office,  they ask her about the money, the bag.  I left his bag on the platform, you didn't ask me to collect it for you. The woman who had asked for him to be killed thought about protesting but remembered the  death of Toshiro Yeung and said nothing. I’m a very dangerous way to commit euthanasia. She said to the woman, you should open a hospice for people like him and you, after all they might send me..

[devil666lovesblog]

This girl I call her ZC or the Slutty Chan

This girl I call her ZC or the Slutty Chan. One usually maintains an innocent girl theory which girls are passively waiting for their bf to explore them sexually, to deflower them and show them the way into the heaven of pleasure via their tight and wet tunnel(s); this girl defies my expectation and completely destroys the innocent girl in my mind. Previously, I start dating in my F.6/7 but I never had sex with those gf, I just presume that the sexual desire existed only in male; or male are usually the one with the strongest sexual desire, and every man has a 'responsibility' to introduce to their gf/SP the wonderful world of human sexuality and limitless pleasure from the coupling of human bodies. 

I met her after my failed relationship with another girl Yeung the web celebrity. I was really depressed and thinking of suicide a lot; but I remain active in the social activist/Pro-Democratic movement circle in HongKong. That is how I met ZC because she claims to be a secretary of the 2000 generation of a Pro-Dem organization. I tell her all about this 'ex-gf' and how sorry I fail(and how I masturbate every night over the fantasy of her being raped and fully sexually tortured/exploited), she has been supportive of my 'ongoing love affair' with Yeung. Then one night she had a dream of her wandering into the apartment I live in with a lot of details only I could know. I realize maybe I am in love with her, or at least she could satisfy my really strong sexual desire for Yueng. I never tried this type of girl before there I began to be suggestive of a relationship between me and her, and highly critical of her bf when they both use the same FB account. I am not certain that if it is jealous on her part or something else then suddenly out of the blue she calls me and asks if I could help her with her Math. homework, she claims to be really poor with Mathematics(which in reality it is quite the opposite). She has to get it done by the end of summer holiday but tonight she has to go for a party. So I go to a (really cold) public library in HongKong to do her homework. I am not that dumb with girls so I ask her when I do that what would she do for me in return? She is silent for a moment then I suggest one night of sexual intercourse with all cum inside her womb would be suffice. She immediately agreed to do so. My guess at that time is she want to test me to see if I have strong sex desire for her, then try to testdrive my capabilities to make her cum. She probably has much more experience in this area so I don't need really about anything except to train up my body for whole night of exciting sex as an affair behind her bf and her parents.

I thought this is her scheme to screw me since there really is no way for me to get the homework to her without seeing her face in face, and she probably expecting me to 'blackmail her' for sex. Now there is the element for urgency, and element for trade(exchanging terms), and element for complete female submission with hidden play of shame and pleasure(since she and I had implicit agreement to keep the affair private---thereby we could have more sex if we like the experience). But we really haven't see each other before. I have been working for Yeung so long that I don't mind to start a relationship with sex, as all previous endeavor failed. Who can resist the temptation of a young girl initializing a sexual encounter with a man twenty years older than her age? 

Mathematics is my favorite subject so I finish her homework at the speed of lightning. One appreciates the amazing power of the human brain when something acts as a pretext for sexual intercourse. Of course, I keep this secret from my parents and my family members since the hypocritical Chinese who presume they are the moral and most civilized ethic group in the world would never open to discuss sex in the family. They just assume you will know how to do it when the time comes.

I quickly finished her homework and printed it in the same library on the same day, I attached one photo of those homework to her in an email. Then she SMS me and arranges the 'transaction'. It does turn out that her family restriction on her is tighter than her pussy(and her throat), i.e. She really want me to break her out via sex. Have sex with me and be my sex slave temporarily is really her way to rebel against her family. She thinks as a young Secondary school student she is entitled to have her sexual freedom, she is from a prestigious school thereby she wants a fully grown man to insult her thereby submitting her sexually in and outside the bed. But again those topics are out of discussion at any level at her home, any mention of that would make her parents kick her out of the apartment. The whole theory is: Wait until you are in the University then you will have your freedom(since parents can't do anything about their sexual adventures there.) She is adding the element of hide-and-seek to increase her sexual pleasure. Who doesn't like to steal a young girl from her imperialistic parents and liberal her with hundreds of billions of your sperm? 

I just realize that male and females are inborn with capabilities of speedily negotiation with terms on sexual intercourse. And the result of our 'negotiation' is simple: SHE IS IN NO POSITION to negotiation, either she does as I wish and keeps my dick happy all alone; or she is left to her own device. I do believe that she never had a man like me before and she is really curious to try out what may happen between me and her. Probably she imagine a half-bald guy is someone who have extremely strong sex desire, that is the type who would not wither after 1 hour or two when she haven't had enough orgasms. We have arranged in the afternoon between the class she would need to get back home for something she forget to bring to the afternoon class; then 'accidentally' she would bump it to me and I will go to where she live and fuck her in the bed. But what we have is less than an hour, thereby I ask her to prepare herself before that by masturbating in the school toilet. Anyhow, I want she to be ready for penetration and cumming all inside her womb; and I also tell her that if she is not convenient that day I would use her other holes. I would need her to make me cum at least three times, then later find a night to be my sex slave in a love motel which I would fuck till she drop, and when she drop die and I will fuck her back to life. Her womb and vagina would encounter their maximum utilization throughout eight to ten hours. 

So I go there by MTR as planned, get out there and wait in front of the entrance of where she lives; I waited for 5 minutes now she is there. I take her hand to enter the door and I start touching her 'accidentally' when taking the elevator. There are two elevators to take and each has its own risks. One long elevator with stairs that is seen by anyone behind us, I don't want to make headlines in the newspaper next day so I am also very cautious in caressing her ass in and out of her dress. There was not much of a breast to play with: She is size A cup thereby there is no option of titty fuck. The fun part is she can't reject any of my 'harassment' but neither could she afford to give it to her desire (and give me a blow job publicly). It is what all the sexology type M girl love the most, being exploited by man who is unable to resist and finally give it to the temptation and let the 'sex predator' have their way with her body. Fuck and cum inside, zip their pants and go with no thought of taking any responsibility.

In another elevator I stay behind her with my hands touching from her toe to the cunt outside her underwear, I even put my hands to grasp her boobs from side and across her back to test out the firmness of her breasts. It really is my first time to do such indecent things in the public, and lucky we don't attract too many eyes. At the first elevator I discover that she is already very excited with her heart pumping faster and her face turns red like she is a natural slut, I really don't need much skill. I guess it is that 'intercourse' started before we even got there, it is the sum total of what I behave on the web, and she stereotypes me as an brave and courageous activist who defies the authorities and fights oligarchy in the front line. It is indeed my words are very sharp and unforgiving as compared to other teenagers who knew only to eat/drink/play online games/hook up with girls; as every time the HKSAR government responds to a crisis I slap right into their face and embarrass them. Those are really what excite her and make her see me as a hero, and all females love to copulate with hero(became a heroine); or those who want to copulate find a way to see her sex object as very desirable. And right before she arrives at the floor where she lives I push one floor below then drag her out, that is to humiliate her as now I am her master. I keep moving my hand in and out of her school uniform; I am not fetish and I don't plan on that. It just so happens she has to wear a school uniform since she is going to school, and she has no time to change her clothes during lunch. That would also draw too much attention that may create trouble after this sexual encounter. A large part of the pleasure is coming from evading other's attention while implying that we are going to copulate quasi-publicly.

You can't imagine how fast she 'walked' when she dragged out of the elevator, and at one point I thought it may be beyond her limit of tolerance of embarrassment. If she misjudges my intention is just to hurt her psychological but not giving her my sperm inside her womb then she may just decide to run away now. From that I see how fit we are sexually, we don't misjudge each other's intention, at the deepest recess of her mind she knew I am playing sexual game; while she consciously pretend she is a good girl under the threat of an uncle, she have no recourse but to comply with me for my evil intention. However, as her master I don't run with her, I command her to stay where I can touch her body otherwise I want her to blowjob me in the corridor then fuck her in the stairs. I won't give her homework until she satisfies me in the exact fashion I liked. I act like a wove that had my hands occasionally went under her underwear then touched her breasts inside her bra. Unbeknownst to her is that my dick already hardened and ready to impregnate her. She are wary that I may find her breasts size is smaller than other mature girls I had sex with. Females of humans may be the most competitive to their own species for every second, so it is imperative that I do not compare her breast or any part of her body to anyone else to keep her in the mood. I also took a few photos of her back, underwear, her foot...etc when I was on her back. It must have felt like a few months when she finally arrived at the door of her apartment. I see from her eye her burning desire to be punished right at the stairs, and she is already itchy on her cunt. I just happen to pull down her underwear and exploring her ass fully, letting anyone walk across to see this slut is savoring every moment that I am fooling with her. Now she walks slowly to her apartment with her underwear hanging below. As she opens the door I also use my key to put inside her asshole and turn, then finger her in the hole where she is not normally associated with sexual pleasure; her face turns pale and purple red as if I am going to assfuck her right there. I understand that she is so overwhelmed by her desire to suck the sperms out of dick and get my dick thrusting against her cervical that she would literally do anything for me. After she open the door I then pull up her underwear then put my key in her mouth, I ask her to clean it up with her tongue then put it in her cunt and ask her to keep the keys there. Her underwear already became transparent due to her lovely juicy. 

Inside the apartment, when the doors are half closed I unknot her uniform then push her head down to suck my dick. I said this is the time your sex slave to serve me as master by tasting my dick. I command her to crawl with four legs down then I step on both of her hands, she then uses her face to message the dickhead then the whole dick then starts sucking it. She is talented in dick sucking since I never feel her tooth, so I lay back a little and pull my dick out; I said now I want to 'brush your tooth with my dick' she obediently moved her jaw around to let my dick feel her tooth. She already cleaned up her whole mouth and tooth just for me to cum inside her mouth. Occasionally I ask her to stop then thrust my dick right into her throat while my hand is squeezing her breasts. When I am about to get off I slow down then free her hand to do a full handjob and blowjob. I can see her displeasure when the foreplay is taking too long, I guess when she masturbates she probably reaches climax in less than 10 minutes but now it is over 15 minutes of blowjob. Soon enough I am playing with her ears and thrusting into her throat once again when she is commanded to masturbate in front of me, which is never requested by her other bf for they don't know she is M type girl which enjoys being sexually exploited. At most they only dare to fuck her mouth and go down on her cunt. This time without warning I shoot cum right into her mouth w. Without telling her what to do she savored all my cum and looked like I just raped her throat. Now she earned the right to be fucked in the cunt then receive my sperms in her womb.

She is a clean person and very much concern about how she look despite having sex with me. So she goes to the bathroom to clean up her face. But she doesn't shut the bathroom door and presume I want to watch her naked body inside. Though she is not completely naked with her school uniform hanging there along with her dress. So when she is cleaning up her face I go there fingering her cunt and her bean, while another hand is busy thrusting back in her other hole with her dress on. I notice that it has been thoroughly cleaned to give her master the best impression, then next time she stands a higher chance to be thoroughly spermed by me(given so many sluts out there compared with little daring souls like me in Hong Kong). She has a look that asks me if I want her in the other hole, I return with a look that if she needs that hole to be imploded with the master's stick she will have to beg. I denied her request for me to take her annally for the first time. I then use the dirty hand to play with her breasts, her hair and touching her face then her eye, eventually putting the finger to her mouth to suck clean. She thought at most I was already over when I spilled the seed in her mouth(that is what she learned from experience.) What she doesn't expect is that I pull down her dress and put my penis right inside her wet cunt, bypassing the usual kissing and foreplay. After all I am her master, I do as I please then start fucking her in front of mirror, I grasp her hair and alternating between making her hair wet with the running water and watching her slutty face during the intercourse. 

Then I ask her to see on the toilet seat while I am thrusting into her vagina in a position I can see the hole which she urinates to make more ashamed of herself. Now both of her exits are fully molested by an uncle. I almost get off at the moment due to the pleasant feeling that her vagina gave me. Thereby I change her posture to play doggie with her and ask her to move out slowly to her bedroom. In this way I am fucking her like a dog, and at the moment she is merely a female dog hunger for the dog penis until she is pregnant with my sperms. Of course I have to shout loudly calling her a 'Dog Girl' to make her even more excited, I admit that is a little bit too much. Sexual intercourse in another sense is also a drama played by actor and actress which both stimulate each other to take the right role at the right moment. I fuck furiously when her breasts is ripping against her bed with her nipples hardened while spreading her legs touching the floor to V shape of greatest angle possible, I then I hit the jackpot when her body is Extremely flexible and I can move her much like a doll to how test different angles of her legs and arms affect her sexual arousal. As every man knew, that a female felt much more pleasure in her vagina than a man felt in his dickhead. A larger part of man's pleasure is derived from manipulating a female's genital and see her immediate reactions and feelings so one don't just put fingers in there but play with it inside, and even the most sadistic of the male exploiting the female genital from the inside her body would only interpret as pleasure. I am punishing this slut by pushing my penis deep within the slut's womb while imaging a sick guy may try her slutty hero with a long stick with an uneven surface, and this slut would not never forget the pleasure my penis gave her.

Soon I am getting tired with the non-standard missionary position sex. I want her to experience my penis in a more direct way by helping her to sit on top of me, while I alternate with both hands to squeeze and expand her breasts she is busy moving up and down to stimulate her G-spot. This gives me a full view of the slut's not very mature body along with her school uniform hanging in her body. I admit that the presence of a prestigious school's uniform gave me the incentive to further tarnish her school by filling this slut's womb/vagina with sperms, or to spill some in her school dress. Teenager's body give a man completely different feeling when compared to fucking a mature woman, she is still exploring and learning from her sexual experience and willing try anything new. This posture gives me some time to recover, I am way past what she expected of me: She thinks I could only last for 5 minutes and at most 20 minutes.

Once I recover my energy from my back, I turn/throw her to the side of the bed near the wall then attack her from the sideway with one of her legs touching her shoulder. This posture is easier for me to rotate my penis to stimulate all degrees of her intersection behind the womb and the vagina. My dickhead can actually tell from different sensations that her vagina lining and her womb-neck. It is of different texture. Somehow I just knew that is a young and still developing womb although I never had sex with a mature woman at that time, and I believe it need more of my sperms for healthy development and her vagina need more exercise like this.

To be fair I attack her from both left and right, rotate her left and right; and discover there is not much of a difference between her legs. Both of her legs are equally flexible and could twist to touch her shoulder, her stomach, her breast or even her jaw. One posture I particularly enjoy penetrating her is when she holds two of her legs with fingers crossed like a fetus, which I can rock her back and fro in almost semi-circular fashion. With her head facing the pillow, or her right ear touching the left edge of her bed just a few inch before falling to the ground, I am fucking her in 3D and letting my dick to stimulate her vagina in a manner that none of her bf/SP ever even imagined, this is the real Maths lesson for her via her vagina. It is a philosophical moment for me when I am in the process of giving life to her womb in a posture like she was in the womb until I felt the tidal waves of lining of her vagina hum with the movement of my penis. That wave became stronger and stronger with her face frozen with pale red, so I increase the frequency of my penis thrusting into her womb, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three then I slow down just to frustrate her: She is my tool for pleasure but not the opposite; I repeat the circle three or four times until which I use 100% of all my physical energy on my penis. Hitting her womb-neck harder and harder, faster and faster until when my penis is furthest in her womb then it explodes with all the sperms shooting in her womb through the ceravic. Now she is the happiest moment of her life when her vagina is helping my penis pumping sperms in her scared organ of pleasure, I take time to 'torture' her pair of small breasts then kissing her in her ears.

That is heavy duty even for me so I sit for a while, it has already passed the time for her to get back to school via taxis. In my original plan, I think I could have molested her more on the way back to the school after she blew me off three to four times after she ate all my cum then I gave her the homework. I don't mind paying for the taxi since she is already giving me a service incomparable by any prostitute. It is not like those who just want to get you off ASAP then the next customer, she is truly enjoying what we did.

For a moment I do worry that her parents and her teachers may find out what we did. However, while my dick is still inside her body she came back to senses after a few minutes then said: Honey, don't worry about time. I already call in sick that the menstruation in my period almost made me faint, I can hand it the homework tomorrow. You can still play with my body until my parents arrived home at 5. I gladly comply with her request then fuck her four more times all cum inside her womb, I leave her place at four to give her some time to clean up her bedroom and herself. I don't ask if it is her safe period nor remind her to take a birth control pill in the next morning. She already has her bf to cover that, those guys would think all it takes is just one shot in the womb to make their gf pregnant. They never knew I have spend four fucking hours with her.

Originally I think she would be loyal to me, or loyal to my dick. But soon I found out that despite all my effort to physically pleasure her and caring for her heart, she still cheated on me by sleeping with somebody else. It is not exactly cheating since we are never formally lover, but I thought we had a implicit agreement to just fuck each other but no one else. Her excuse is during her safe period she experience usually strong sex desire that drive her fucking the nearest male object with a penis(or masturbate with whatever long object available), thereby calling me on the phone and waiting for me to arrive within an hour is already too long. It is already enough time to have three orgasms with one guy. But she will nevertheless have sex with me, eat my cum and let me cum into her womb pretending she has not been satisfied by any male before. Just after I decided to leave her for good (which my parents don't accept her as my gf since she smoke occasionally), and the last two days after her birthday I fuck all her holes and all cum inside in the apartment her parent own in an outlying land in HongKong. There is no foreplay, at the beginning and she thought I was trying to pleasing; but at last sex she realize there is something wrong when I thrust with all my might to her butthole. She asks if I really want to hurt me, or if she has wronged me in any way? I said I enjoy all the sex with her, she is excellent girlfriend in this aspect; but this relationship can go no longer until she could resist the urge to have sex with someone else. She said she is born like that and for every time she cheat I can torture her cruelly and thoroughly, she don't even mind for me and my friend to gangbang her. I see it clearly that she is only in the relationship with me for sexual pleasure. Thereby after that night I ceased to contact her by all means. 

After her I realize all females are cheaters and none of them will be absolutely loyal to their lover when they are sexually aroused; it is all in their genes. All they ever need is time, place and excuse to have sex with someone gave them orgasm. If one can always get woman sexually aroused regardless of who they are, why go through all the trouble to get a girlfriend instead of fucking somebody else's gr and wife?

[queenmagnusao3]

All In a Day’s Work - Chapter 1

AO3 Link - Lin Beifong is the worst patient

I like to beat up my favorite characters so this fic has been creating so I can get it out of my system. Once I finish this part I want to write a companion piece with a separate oneshot for each one of these situations and Lin got herself into them

Healer Sora Yueng had seen a lot in her many years as a healer for Republic City’s largest and busiest hospital. She had trained under arguably the greatest healer in the world and now was a well-respected mentor herself. Tonight was pretty average, not too busy nor quiet. Another new intern had started training under her and they spent the better part of the last hour removing small shards of glass from a poor woman who had fallen through a glass door.

Now, the healer was taking a break while she had the intern manning the new intake desk. Sora downed the rest of her tea, overhearing a conversation her intern was having with a new patient. She instantly recognized the voice and cursed the spirits for not giving her just one nice, calm and normal evening.

“I’m fine. It’s just my arm.”

The voice hitched as it sucked in a breath of obvious pain. Sora rolled her eyes as she started making her way to the front desk.

“Maybe a cracked rib.”

“Don’t forget whiplash.”

The new voice was also familiar to the healer but she was surprised. It had been quite some time since she had heard the two together.

“Shut it, Tenzin. Why are you even still here? Just  get a healer over here and then I can leave.”

There’s her cue. Sora plastered a falsely sweet smile on her face as she rounded the corner to see one of her favorite patients; Republic City Police Chief Lin Beifong. The woman’s face contorted as she groaned.

“Of course you’re working tonight. I’m fine.”

I’m fine was the usual story and often meant that she was anything but. Sora couldn’t help a small chuckle as she saw Master Tenzin subtlety shaking his head at her over the Chief’s shoulder.

“On the off chance that you’re not completely fine why don’t you come on back and I’ll check you over?”

Lin grumbled something and Sora just smiled to herself. Getting Lin Beifong to submit to any kind of medical attention was a fine art and she was satisfied that she hadn’t lost her touch in said art.

“You can go home if you want, Master Tenzin. I assure you she’s in good hands.”

A look flashed across the airbender’s face.

“Or… you can wait down the hall unt-“

“Go home, airhead. I’ll be fine. And I’m sure your wife is worried about you.”

The healer couldn’t help but notice that the earthbender was making great efforts to avoid making eye contact with him. Apparently they’re relationship was still complicated after all these years. He really should be at home with his family. She had witnessed enough of the pair’s lives to feel a bit protective of Lin. Especially with that look he was giving her.

“Chief, the usual room is open if you want to head in.”

Without a word she turned and walked around the corner. Tenzin watched her as she left and Sora stepped directly into his line of vision.

“You should probably leave now, Master Tenzin.”

He looked at her and blinked rapidly as if coming out of a daze. He looked down, his cheeks reddening. He mumbled some sort of departing well wish before quickly making his retreat. Sora let out a sigh as she turned to her intern.

“I’ve got to take care of this one alone, hold down the fort while I’m in there.”

He nodded to her. There was a look of curiosity in his eyes that made her sigh again as she walked away. It was the look they always had when the Police Chief ended up there. She’d deal with his inevitable questions later.

Yosuke had been training under Master Healer Sora for about 3 weeks and tonight was easily the most exciting night so far. Seeing the son of the former Avatar and the Chief of Police was like seeing a couple of real life celebrities. He was immensely disappointed when his mentor had told he would be sitting out on the healing session with the Chief.

It was about an hour before he caught up with his teacher again. It was the middle of the night now and she looked exhausted. He was pretty tired himself but his excitement and curiosity about their current patient was enough to keep him wide awake.

“How is Chief Beifong? Was she hurt too badly?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, sitting down in a chair. After a moment she opened her eyes again and handed him a file.

“She’s lucky her broken ribs didn’t puncture a lung. Again.”

Her tone was exasperated but his eyes widened. A punctured lung was a very serious injury and the Chief of Police had survived one in the past. She obviously picked up on his expression and shook her head, waving a hand.

“Just go put this file away. And then I think we both need to get some sleep.”

He didn’t need telling twice, practically running down the hall to the room where they kept patient records. The records room wasn’t exactly organized. In fact, it had taken him several days to get used to the filing system. Some healers filed patients by just their first name since that was the only name many of their patients had. Others filed by last name first, when a last name was available. It wasn’t uniform and it took him a long time to figure out that he needed to stop trying to make sense of it and just check both places in the alphabet.

He quickly went to where the “B”s were stored and was excited when he quickly found the name Beifong. “Beifong, Lin” was first and his eyes widened again at how big the file was. He also caught a glimpse of an even larger file directly after, labeled “Beifong, Toph”. He felt goosebumps prickle his skin. He sometimes forgot that the legendary benders he heard about growing up were actual, real life people.

He pulled the current Chief Beifong’s folder out and opened it to put the newest file in it. He knew he shouldn’t but curiosity finally got the best of him and Yosuke flipped through some of the older files. He only picked up quick words and notes scribbled in the familiar handwriting of Sora.

 Mild concussion… fractured ribs… broken ribs… significant and inevitable scarring… rare form of poison…

The poison one immediately piqued his interest and he pulled the file to read more.

 “Chief Beifong was brought in, unconscious, by Master Tenzin with textbook symptoms of poison from-“

His reading was cut off by someone clearing their throat loudly. Yosuke turned around quickly to see Sora standing in the doorway with a knowing and somewhat amused look on her face. His face reddened as he closed the file and put it back in the folder. He quietly put it back in place and closed the drawer.

“Sorry, Sifu. I was just cur-“

“-ious. Yes. I gathered as much. Learn anything interesting?”

“That I do not want to get on Chief Beifong’s bad side.”

Sora laughed at that.

“You’ve got no idea, kid.”

She started to say something else but they were interrupted by another healer running up to her, out of breath.

“Sorry to interrupt, Master Sora. But Chief Beifong isn’t in her room.”

Yosuke looked away, trying to hide a smile as his mentor cursed loudly. She let out a frustrated groan before walking quickly back towards the patient rooms. He quickly followed after catching bits of the healer’s grumbling.

“That stubborn idiot!”

They came to an abrupt halt outside her office door. She walked in and around her desk, sitting down and pulling out a piece of paper. She furiously scribbled a note before opening a drawer. She took out a prepared small package and tucked the note inside the edge of the wrapping before holding it out for him to take.

“Would you please send this to this address? And be discreet about it.”

He took the package and waited as she wrote down an address on another piece of paper. He took it from her and she leaned back in her chair, hands clasped and resting on the top of her head. He immediately turned to leave but stopped abruptly as she called out.

“And Yosuke! I mean it about being discreet. I’ve spent many years earning Lin Beifong’s trust. And make sure the note doesn’t fall out!”

He started to move again but had to stop as the note in question slipped from the package. He quickly picked it up and couldn’t help but take a peak before shoving it back inside.

 Lin,

 Don’t move your arm too much and try to lay down so the ribs heal properly this time. You know where I am.

 -Sora