Nov 27, 2022
I just want a cute bf who loves to smoke and take me on ramen dates 💜🍜😍
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I just want a cute bf who loves to smoke and take me on ramen dates 💜🍜😍
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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An Even More Future Excerpt From How I Met Your Other Mother
From “The Wonderful World of Fanfiction” where people really really want to see what happens with an older Hari and Shisui. Because that’s a thing.
There were a few solid, undeniable, truths in Shisui’s life. Well, that was perhaps untrue, there were certainly more than a few. His world, in many ways, had always seemed too rigid and unforgiving since the very beginning. The clan and the village pulling him in opposite directions, neither caring that one day they’d tear him in half.
Those truths, the clan before the village, the village before the clan, were ones that Shisui had had to learn to skillfully navigate so that he was not too far to one side and not too far to the other. Whether he was successful in this was hard to say, there were still grumblings within the clan, but Shisui was not their pawn and unlike Uchiha Obito had not been excommunicated either.
No, he’d managed to land somewhere in the middle, a friend of Itachi who himself would one day be clan head, and with a world of expectations on his shoulders.
Still, better to be balancing on the edge of a knife than to land on one side or the other. Or, rather, on Obito’s side because if push came to shove… Shisui would never say it, or at least, not until he had no other choice, but if push came to shove he would choose the village.
He just hoped that push never came to shove.
However, while these thoughts were never far from his mind they weren’t exactly what he’d been thinking about right at this moment. There were some other… slightly less integral truths that Shisui couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deny. One was that the yondaime hokage, Namikaze Minato, was goddamn terrifying and in many ways Shisui’s idol. The other was that if there were a pair more terrifying than him, it was his wives, Uzumaki Kushina and particularly Eru Lee. The third was that the yondaime was known for being… almost overprotective of his now sixteen-year-old oldest daughter Namikaze Hari. The fourth, and perhaps the worst, was that Namikaze Hari was very pretty.
Granted, this last one he hadn’t noticed for years. Mostly because she’d always been Sasuke’s little girlfriend and then suddenly she was Sasuke’s older girlfriend and then she wasn’t Sasuke’s girlfriend at all. He’d always liked her, thought her dry wit, intelligence, lack of Sasuke-worship, and ability to beat Sasuke into the ground was good for the brat. Then she’d become Sasuke and Namikaze Naruto’s genin teammate with Obito for a sensei and that’d all been good too, he’d watched the chunin exams and been genuinely impressed by her and the team’s performance and that had been about it.
About it until one day he’d looked up and realized that she’d clearly gone through puberty, was almost as tall as Shisui was, and suddenly had become very interesting even to shinobi a few years older to her.
Shisui, unfortunately, being among their number.
The unfortunate part being that while Hari seemed more or less indifferent to this new state of affairs, her terrifying father was not, and if Shisui didn’t want to deal with the yondaime at his passive aggressive finest then he should be anywhere other than where he was sitting right now.
Here, of course, being local ramen stand Ichiraku’s with Namikaze Hari.
He looked over at her, and she was dutifully focused on her book, almost obsessively so as if to avoid glancing at him, and aside from noting the strange turquoise color of her eyes he noted again that even though she was older now she was still young. Probably too young for him, if he really didn’t want to be toeing the line he’d have the decency to wait two more years at least.
Except they weren’t even doing anything, he thought to himself, sure they were eating together but they could be eating as friends, had eaten together as friends the week before (except no, that had pretty much been a date too) and as it was until Shisui worked up the nerve to actually do or say anything they might as well just be friends.
“So…”
Her head whipped up, eyes blinking, wide and blue with a hint of green that left him just slightly dazed, “Yes?”
“Nice weather we’re having,” Shisui finished rather lamely.
She paused, then smiled equally awkwardly back at him, but he still loved the sight of it, “It is, isn’t it?”
The awkward, stifling, silence returned between them and Shisui could see Ichiraku himself shaking his head at the pair of them out of the corner of his eye, as if to say, “Oh, these stupid kids and their stupid awkward dates.”
“How’s Itachi?” she asked, which was a terrible question and they both knew it, her mother kept in close contact with all of her students, both Obito and Itachi, so Hari no doubt knew very well how Itachi was doing.
“Good, he’s doing well,” Shisui said, which was about all one could ever say for Itachi, with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Good,” Hari said with a nod, “Sasuke’s still trying to catch up.”
That was the understatement of the century, in Shisui’s humble opinion Uncle Fugaku had done Saskue no favors in pitting him against his older brother. Where Sasuke had once been an adorable boy he’d turned into a scowling adolescent and then a brooding and scowling young man with a goal that very well could be impossible for him to meet.
Shisui would wish him the best of luck but he sincerely doubted that it would ever happen, and besides, he had to take Itachi’s side on this sort of thing.
He glanced at her again, taking in her usual practical civilian wear that edged on something more tactical. She was a lot like her father in that respect, in many respects, he could see her mother in her from time to time, in her biting sense of humor and her lack of patience, but it was the yondaime hokage that Shisui always thought Namikaze Hari most resembled.
And he decided if he was going to hell he might as well do it in style, “Say, Hari, what do you say you and I go to a real restaurant tonight?”
And while Namikaze Naruto would no doubt have been offended over the idea of ramen not being real food, Namikaze Hari just smiled and then grinned, as she realized precisely what Shisui was getting at. And if she could smile at him like that, it couldn’t be such a bad thing, could it?
Flashback to that time Miraya and Elaine met up for lunch at Ippudo and showed up wearing effectively the same thing. Relentlessly plaid.
Ramen Dates Part 3
“Choi Young Do. Who allowed you to place me as ‘YDLover’ on your phone?”
“Do I need permission to do anything with my own phone?”
“You do if it makes others question the sanity of the person involved!”
“We can just say you’re crazy about me.” His smile was perpetually lined with a tease.
Eun Sang scowled at him. She had passed behind the couch on her way across the room and noticed him editing his contact list.
"Ramen Dates" Part 2
“Wow, look at you.”
Eun sang set down her spoon and washed down her dinner with a swig of water. “What are you looking at?” The bite went out of her voice as she sat back, allowing a semi food coma to blanket her.
Young Do sat across from her in that prim manner of his, as though admiring a morning dawn, chin resting on palm. “You sure eat well.”
She gave a soft “hmph,” at whatever implication he was making. “Of course I have to eat well. I need to refuel since my mom didn’t let me have anything good to eat while I was sick.”
“What are you talking about? I made you such good porridge that time.”
Porridge could get boring after a while, even the ones made by the infamous Choi Young Do.
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"Ramen Dates" Part 1
Part 1
Eun Sang almost surrendered herself to believing her fever had caught up with her. Yet, she was cognizant enough to understand that the scene playing out in front of her was not a mirage, not a figment of her imagination.
“Mother, is this too big? Should I make them smaller?”
Choi Young Do was in her home, consulting with her mother on how to dice carrots. Choi Young Do was in her kitchen, wearing a yellow apron, and carefully working a knife through vegetables.
Young Do glanced over at her, caught her watching him. She looked away, pretended to massage her temple. She grimaced, not needing to see him to know he was smirking right now.