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  <title>Reggie</title>
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  <lastBuildDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 22:24:26 GMT</lastBuildDate>
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    <title>Reggie</title>
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  <pubDate>Sun, 27 Sep 2009 22:24:26 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>IS MEME TIEM</title>
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  <description>Yes. It&apos;s that time again, my fluffy bunnies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. Comment to this entry saying &apos;ICONS!&apos; and I will pick 6 of your icons.&lt;br /&gt;02. Make an entry in your own journal and talk about the icons I picked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/76958686/15882978&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;&gt; It&apos;s John Motherfucking Hart, played by JAMES MOTHERFUCKING MARSTERS. How could I NOT have an icon of him? Especially one of him making a sexy faise? Torchwood ftw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/78572964/15882978&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;&gt; Well, it&apos;s Eddie Izzard, and we all love him. But the word &apos;quoi?&apos; is sort of an inside joke for me. A couple years ago, my friend and I were bored and decided to watch Harry Potter 3 dubbed in French, just for shits and giggles. At the bit when Hagrid puts Harry on Buckbeak&apos;s back, French!Harry goes &lt;i&gt;&quot;Quoi?&quot;&lt;/i&gt; in the creepiest, most feminine voice possible, then screams &apos;EHH! EHH! EHH!&quot; as Hagrid picks him up. We rewound it perhaps a dozen times, and laughed for a good five minutes straight. We might have just had too much sugar, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/78572996/15882978&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;&gt; I wanted an &apos;I approve of this post&apos; kind of icon, and I am in love with Jon Stewart. Seemed logical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/80843492/15882978&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;&gt; Because, every now and then, it&apos;s nice to remind myself that he&apos;s not my president anymore :) And the gif makes me giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/85157377/15882978&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;&gt; For the stupider posts on ONTD_P. I don&apos;t even remember what chapter the picture is from, I just liked Kagome&apos;s face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/87308416/15882978&quot; alt=&quot;&quot;&gt; This may very well be my favorite part on the pilot (except when Mal shoots Lawrence). My BFF Conor and I show Firefly to a lot of people who haven&apos;t seen it before, so I&apos;ve seen the pilot MAAAAAAAAAANY times. It&apos;s always a struggle to keep myself from smiling when Mal tells Simon that Kaylee&apos;s dead XD</description>
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  <pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 2009 06:39:26 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Writer&apos;s Block: My Dream Job</title>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/3757.html</link>
  <description>&lt;div class=&apos;appwidget appwidget-qotd&apos; id=&apos;LJWidget_28&apos;&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&apos;border: 1px solid #000; padding: 6px;&apos;&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is your dream job?  Do you think you&apos;ll ever have it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style=&apos;font-size: 0.8em;&apos;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://clk.atdmt.com/MON/go/174115913/direct/01/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Sponsored by Monster&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://view.atdmt.com/MON/view/174115913/direct/01/&quot;&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;input type=&quot;button&quot; value=&quot;Answer&quot; onclick=&quot;document.location.href=&apos;http://www.livejournal.com/update.bml?qotd=1075&apos;&quot; /&gt; &lt;a target=&quot;_blank&quot; href=&quot;http://www.livejournal.com/misc/latestqotd.bml?qid=1075&quot;&gt;View 998 Answers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://view.atdmt.com/MON/view/174115913/direct/01/&quot; border=&apos;0&apos; width=&apos;1&apos; height=&apos;1&apos; alt=&apos;&apos; /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- end .appwidget-qotd --&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That&apos;s easy-peasy. I want to be a creator. And by that, I mean create TV shows, movies, and possibly a graphic novel or a regular novel or an internet series. I would say &apos;writer&apos; or &apos;producer&apos;, but I haven&apos;t decided between them yet. I just want to see my name at the end of the credits. Created by. Almost every other dream I have for my future is based on that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prospect for fame and glory does enter into it a &lt;i&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; bit :P</description>
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  <category>writer&apos;s block</category>
  <category>monster</category>
  <category>dream job</category>
  <category>monster jobs</category>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/3411.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2009 03:55:43 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>I AM Doing Something - a lazy fst</title>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/3411.html</link>
  <description>Well, lookie here! My very first famix! Well, my very first &lt;b&gt;finished&lt;/b&gt; fanmix. I have a bunch more in the works. I meant to post this one before school started, but life happens and I&apos;m lazy and it just didn&apos;t happen. And I worked extra hard on the cover art since this is my first mix. All songs are mp3. You can download individual songs by clicking on the title. The zip with all the songs (and the cover art) is at the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name=&quot;cutid1&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://i987.photobucket.com/albums/ae356/forthelulz90/coverA.png&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://i987.photobucket.com/albums/ae356/forthelulz90/coverB.png&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?yjejxchtlyy&quot;&gt;1. Self - &quot;Stay Home&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;And it&apos;s off &apos;til the morning and back again&lt;br /&gt;Same old day, same situation&lt;br /&gt;My happiness is back as if to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna stay home today&lt;br /&gt;Don&apos;t wanna go out&lt;br /&gt;If anyone comes to play&lt;br /&gt;Gonna get thrown out&lt;br /&gt;I wanna stay home today&lt;br /&gt;Don&apos;t want no company&lt;br /&gt;No way&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, yeah&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?gwnmbhy3lz3&quot;&gt;2. NFOX - &quot;Lazy&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have a sensation where lazyness,&lt;br /&gt;Procrastination is what I do best&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ll wait and I&apos;ll sit and watch the clouds&lt;br /&gt;As they go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where has my ambition gone&lt;br /&gt;I haven&apos;t seen it for so long&lt;br /&gt;Am I a burden to someone? &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?kytnwxjljmq&quot;&gt;3. Barenaked Ladies, &quot;Pinch Me&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;It&apos;s the perfect time of day&lt;br /&gt;To throw all your cares away&lt;br /&gt;Put the sprinkler on the lawn&lt;br /&gt;And run through with my gym shorts on.&lt;br /&gt;Take a drink right from the hose&lt;br /&gt;And change into some drier clothes&lt;br /&gt;Climb the stairs up to my room&lt;br /&gt;Sleep away the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s like a dream - you try to remember but it&apos;s gone, then ya&lt;br /&gt;Try to scream but it only comes out as a yawn, when ya&lt;br /&gt;Try to see the world beyond your front door.&lt;br /&gt;Take your time the way I rhyme&apos;s gonna make you smile, when ya&lt;br /&gt;Realize that a guy my size might take a while, just to&lt;br /&gt;Try to figure out what all this is for.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?3ymamgwmz4j&quot;&gt;4. Sum 41 - &quot;Motivation&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Motivation such an aggravation,&lt;br /&gt;Accusations don&apos;t know how to take them.&lt;br /&gt;Inspiration&apos;s getting hard to fake it.&lt;br /&gt;Concentration never hard to break it.&lt;br /&gt;Situation never what you want it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing&apos;s new, everything&apos;s the same.&lt;br /&gt;It keeps on dragging me down, it&apos;s getting kind of lame.&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m falling further behind, there&apos;s nothing to explain.&lt;br /&gt;No matter what you say nothing&apos;s gonna change my mind.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?dzxlx3kiydw&quot;&gt;5. Bomb the Music Industry! - &quot;Big Plans of Sleeping In&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Every day&apos;s a hassle when you never sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;Tossing and turning and shaking uncomfortably.&lt;br /&gt;But today&apos;s the fucking weekend&lt;br /&gt;So we&apos;re sleeping until five.&lt;br /&gt;Wake up and lock the door and burn off calories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never let go when you talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;Your stories are boring, they put me to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;But that&apos;s just what I wanted&lt;br /&gt;And I swear that&apos;s what I needed,&lt;br /&gt;My busy day of sleeping in.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?zkytydmcnty&quot;&gt;6. Plain White T&apos;s - &quot;Lazy Day Afternoon&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Beautiful day outside but I don&apos;t care&lt;br /&gt;Everything I need I got right here&lt;br /&gt;Why should I go out, why should I even move&lt;br /&gt;Just another lazy day afternoon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afternoon&lt;br /&gt;When everybodys working&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;d rather be a jerk and lay around&lt;br /&gt;Afternoon&lt;br /&gt;This day is just to perfect&lt;br /&gt;Just another lazy day afternoon&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?qjyzmv0atzh&quot;&gt;7. SR-71 - &quot;Last Man on the Moon&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;I just can&apos;t seem to concentrate today&lt;br /&gt;It seems my mind is wandering away&lt;br /&gt;And all these things swimmin’ through my head&lt;br /&gt;Fade away when I go back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I close my eyes&lt;br /&gt;See how fast time flies&lt;br /&gt;&apos;Cause sunrise comes too soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I&apos;m never out of bed before noon&lt;br /&gt;And waking up too late would be too soon&lt;br /&gt;And I could never be Neil Armstrong&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;d be the last man on the moon.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?lacemttgnz2&quot;&gt;8. The Beatles - &quot;I&apos;m Only Sleeping&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Everybody seems to think I&apos;m lazy&lt;br /&gt;I don&apos;t mind, I think they&apos;re crazy&lt;br /&gt;Running everywhere at such a speed&lt;br /&gt;Till they find there&apos;s no need (there&apos;s no need)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, don&apos;t spoil my day, I&apos;m miles away&lt;br /&gt;And after all I&apos;m only sleeping&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?i4dghtw12zn&quot;&gt;9. Corinne Bailey Rae - &quot;Put Your Records On (Acoustic)&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Blue as the sky, sunburnt (sunburned) and lonely,&lt;br /&gt;Sipping tea in a bar by the roadside,&lt;br /&gt;(Just relax, just relax)&lt;br /&gt;Don&apos;t you let those other boys fool you&lt;br /&gt;Gotta love that afro hair-do&lt;br /&gt;Maybe sometimes, we feel afraid, but it&apos;s alright&lt;br /&gt;The more you stay the same, the more they seem to change&lt;br /&gt;Don&apos;t you think it&apos;s strange?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(OK, not exactly about laziness. But there is a theme about relaxing. And I just really really like this song.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?kez2mlmznkv&quot;&gt;10. Sum 41 - &quot;Heart Attack&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Remember when there was nothing else to do, but lie in bed and&lt;br /&gt;wonder how it was always up to you, and no one else and&lt;br /&gt;Early mornings, late by warnings&lt;br /&gt;what&apos;s the point of the alarm that I&apos;m ignoring?&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s even raining, I&apos;m not complaining&lt;br /&gt;but waking up is hard to do so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turn my head its back to bed with no delay&lt;br /&gt;can&apos;t be bothered by the phone ten times a day&lt;br /&gt;Why get up my morning doesn&apos;t even start till two?&lt;br /&gt;Forget reality waking up is hard to do.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?52hhd2dinqj&quot;&gt;11. Jack Johnson - &quot;Banana Pancakes&quot;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Well can&apos;t you see that it&apos;s just raining&lt;br /&gt;there ain&apos;t no need to go outside...&lt;br /&gt;But Baby, You hardly even notice&lt;br /&gt;when I try to show you&lt;br /&gt;this song is meant to keep ya&lt;br /&gt;from doing what you&apos;re supposed to&lt;br /&gt;like waking up too early&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we can sleep in&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ll make you banana pancakes&lt;br /&gt;pretend like it&apos;s the weekend now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we can pretend it all the time, yeah&lt;br /&gt;Can&apos;t you see that it&apos;s just raining&lt;br /&gt;there ain&apos;t no need to go outside&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Technically a love song, but it&apos;s a love song encouraging laziness, so it works)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.mediafire.com/?vzyemyjz2jj&quot;&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;::the zip!::&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/3102.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Sat, 22 Aug 2009 22:38:49 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>There&apos;s something to be said for suffering in silence.</title>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/3102.html</link>
  <description>&lt;blockquote&gt;(I wrote this last night. As I say below, my internet failed last night, and I couldn&apos;t post. Things have changed since my friend Lily showed up this morning, but I haven&apos;t edited this. These are my exact thoughts regarding my first day)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time, I am writing an entry from my room at CSUMB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose this is the first day of the rest of my life or something like that. I don&apos;t know. I haven&apos;t had any life-changing epitomes yet, so I&apos;m afraid this won&apos;t be a post imparting my new-found ultimate wisdom. I just wanted to catalog this day. For myself. I want to store my thoughts so that I can revisit them for the rest of my life, the way I did on my first day of sophomore year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to remember the awkward, short and reassuring phone conversation I had with Lily, the girl I met in June at orientation. We didn&apos;t talk about anything important. I called her twice, and she didn&apos;t pick up. Ten minutes later she called back, telling me she&apos;d been on the road and hadn&apos;t been able to answer. She didn&apos;t quite remember who I was (her roommate is also named Rachel). I wanted to ask if she&apos;d go to the ice cream social with me and see the showing of Star Trek afterwords, but she&apos;s not here: she&apos;s staying in a hotel tonight and checking in tomorrow. I told her I was sorry for wasting her time on a useless call, that I had nothing to say, that I was just lonely. She told me that any time I felt lonely I could call her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m going to complain about my laptop&apos;s location. There&apos;s no support for my elbows as I write, and I have to pause every few minutes to let them rest. I&apos;m moving it right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to remember how cozy my first dorm looks. The walls are plain white and boring, but I have my FMA and Watchmen posters taped up, as well as some christmas lights strung up above my bed (the scotch tape is holding so far). I have designated the top shelf of my desk as my &apos;special things&apos; shelf, and have my blue cork board and most of my stuffed animals arranged comfortably there. The bed spread is very color coordinated. I took two pictures of the room with my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should thank my mom be being so fantastically good at planning. Right now, I am snacking some frosted mini-wheats and drinking apple cider (my water heater works fine). I have almost everything I need, largely thanks to her. Only exceptions: a bathroom mat, an alarm clock, nail clippers, a swimming suit, and a cell phone charger. Not her fault at all; no one can think of everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ve decided that while having a single room is rather lonely, it&apos;s nice to be able to listen to SR-71 without my headphones (quietly, of course. It &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; 1:30 in the morning, and I don&apos;t want to be a dick).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ought to write about the unsatisfying time I had at the ice cream social tonight. I hung out with a small group I met in the ice cream line: 4 girls, 2 boys. All of them older than me, mostly seniors (one an RA for the North quad). I inserted myself in their conversation as best I could. They knew a lot of people I don&apos;t. They didn&apos;t stay for the movie. I only remember one of their names: Nicky, the RA. After they left, I attached myself to a group of kind of nerdy sophomore girls, and sat with them for the movie. We didn&apos;t talk much, and they didn&apos;t say goodbye when the movie ended. I don&apos;t expect I&apos;ll see any of them again. The ice cream was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m going to say that I feel just a tiny bit nauseous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell you how damn good the shower I just took felt. Just the right temperature. I feel fantastically clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m going to be thinking about the breakthrough I had in my story tonight. I fleshed out Arin&apos;s backstory, made it particularly tragic (note to self: his name is Anderson Sphincter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&apos;ll just quickly mention that Zachary Quinto is a fantastic Spock (and severely hawt). But, while the whole cast is awesome, I&apos;ve decided that Bones is my favorite character.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to complain about the internet connection. It&apos;s supposed to be wireless, but it keeps timing out, even though it says I&apos;m connected. I think maybe there&apos;s just too many people online now. There doesn&apos;t seem to be an ethernet plug in my room. I don&apos;t expect I&apos;ll be able to post this tonight because of connection fail. If that&apos;s how the connection in my room is always going to be like, I&apos;m going to go nuts. Gorram it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Finally, I want to call attention to the title of this entry. Please don&apos;t think me depressed or discontented in any way. It&apos;s a quote from Neil Gaiman&apos;s novel American Gods, and, in context, is rather funny. And, in my case, ironic (hey, you&apos;re reading this aren&apos;t you?).</description>
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  <category>reggie&apos;s ramblings</category>
  <category>college</category>
  <category>life</category>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2009 05:50:37 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>The Sun is Out</title>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/2862.html</link>
  <description>Another fanfic.&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this after watching Kakashi Gaiden. It was kind of a speed write/stream of conscious thing... just a little niggling idea that had to be written. Unbeta&apos;d, but I think it&apos;s pretty good. It made me sadfaise when I reread it, which is what I was going for, so... read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt; The Sun is Out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Characters:&lt;/b&gt; Kakashi, Rin, Minato, Obito (by mention)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Warnings:&lt;/b&gt; character death (obviously. it&apos;s post-gaiden) and people being sad all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word Count:&lt;/b&gt; 1423&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name=&quot;cutid1&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funeral is small. They&apos;re in the midst of a war, and there isn&apos;t a lot of time for funerals. He might not even have had one. But he was young, and a member of a prestigious clan, so he did get one. The fact that the battle that took his life was well-publicized probably didn&apos;t hurt either. When people halfway across the world hear about the Uchiha hero who sacrificed himself for his teammates, it&apos;d look bad if said hero didn&apos;t at least get a memorial service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a coffin, but of course there isn&apos;t anything in it. They left the real Obito under a pile of rocks. People put flowers on it as if they&apos;re actually showing respect to the real person. But they weren&apos;t there: they didn&apos;t see him lying under that rock, blood dribbling from his lips. They didn&apos;t hear his strangled dying words, the capsized ribs stabbing into his guts and quieting his ever-boisterous voice. Only he and Rin had to see that. Only he and Rin really understand. They can say &lt;i&gt;he was so young, what a shame&lt;/i&gt; all they want. They don&apos;t know the half of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn&apos;t cry. Rin does; quietly, holding her head up with dignity, not refusing or accepting any condolences. She just watches and absorbs, thanking the well-wishers and saying nothing to him. He doesn&apos;t blame her. If he hadn&apos;t tried to abandon her; if he&apos;d stopped being such a big-headed asshole and sucked in his pride and just &lt;i&gt;listened,&lt;/i&gt; then their teammate might still be alive. But of course there isn&apos;t any malice in the way she deals with him. None at all. Her looks are sympathetic, her touches soft. He doesn&apos;t deserve it. He doesn&apos;t talk to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sees Obito&apos;s father: a stout, proud man who&apos;s face is grave but not wet at all. He tries to shake his hand and thank him. &lt;i&gt;You did what you could. It&apos;s good to know my son&apos;s teammate was such an admirable ninja.&lt;/i&gt; Yes, he&apos;s a hero now too, isn&apos;t he? Sharingan Kakashi, son of Konoha&apos;s White Fang, so brave, so strong. He doesn&apos;t say anything to the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days pass. He hardly talks to anyone. He spends all day inside, letting people in if they come to visit, but staying so quiet and grave that they quickly leave, nonplussed, exiting his home and breathing the outside air as if ridding their noses of a bad smell. Rin comes and fixes food for him, but still he doesn&apos;t talk. She does. She fills up the heavy space with chatter that slides off him like rain on roof shingles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first night, she sleeps at his house. He doesn&apos;t go to bed until very late, 3 in the morning or so, but she waits. When he finally gets into his bed, she comes in a few minutes later. She tentatively sits on his bed and waits. When he says nothing, she lays down beside him. When he still says nothing, she cuddles up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle. She  presses her face into his neck. She weeps quietly, her whimpering breath hot against his ear. He says nothing. The next night, she doesn&apos;t stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s roughly a week after the funeral (six days; one more than a business week, one less than a full week). Someone knocks on his door. It&apos;s the first visitor in two days, and he&apos;s tired of them. He doesn&apos;t get the door. But the knocking persists. The knocker continues for almost 10 minutes,  with one minute intervals between each set of knocks. Eventually, his patience wears out and he goes to the door, preparing his best furious glare for the visitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s his sensei. As soon as the door is opened, Minato tells him to follow him. He gapes for a moment. Then he looks away. He tries to deny the man, quietly, as respectfully as he can. The Yellow Flash will have none of it. He follows him into his house, as insistent as a new puppy but with none of the cheerfulness. He holds out as long as he can, stoney-faced and silent, trying to infect the air with the impenetrable gloom of death and depression that had driven off all his other visitors. But Minato is adamant. After nearly 45 minutes of enduring his badgering, he finally consents, throwing his sensei evil glares as he is ushered out of his house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&apos;s a nice day. The sky is brilliant blue and the clouds are full and rich. It&apos;s a crayon day, the kind little kids doodle and their patents tack up on refrigerators. They walk in silence. He trudges along as far from Minato as possible, looking fixedly at the ground. People look at them as they pass, and he hears them whisper. The Yellow Flash and Sharingan Kakashi. &lt;i&gt;One of the members of their team just died, didn&apos;t he? The Uchiha?&lt;/i&gt; Tittering squirrels gossiping up above, but only when they&apos;re high enough in their trees, safe and out of reach, looking down with beady, uncomprehending eyes. Minato only offers quick greetings to a select few. He says nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They walk briskly, but it seems to him to take a very long time. Eyes pointedly downcast, he lets his mind wander, trying not to let on how much the cheerful sunlight is bothering him, trying to show that he can handle this walk, that he doesn&apos;t need to be escorted out of his own home, and just because he hasn&apos;t been out doesn&apos;t mean he isn&apos;t just fine. He supposes it&apos;s because he&apos;s looking down with his head in the clouds that he doesn&apos;t realize where they&apos;re going til they&apos;re there, and he almost walks into his sensei when he stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He takes a step back, and looks around. Standing right in front of him is the Memorial Stone. There is a bouquet of flowers already set before it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minato takes something out of the pack on his hip. He looks at them in surprise. He&apos;d given them to his sensei after their last fateful mission, and promptly forgotten about them. And he&apos;d held on to them all this time, and not told the father or the leader of the Uchiha or Rin... was he waiting for this? Waiting for him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he can recover his surprise, Minato is handing the orange goggles to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stares at them blankly. Behind his mask, his mouth is parted, and his head feels like flies are buzzing around inside, tapping against the cage of his skull. It&apos;s a long time before he shuts his mouth and swallows. Finally, he lifts his hand and takes the goggles. His hand is trembling, but he can&apos;t find it in himself to even try to make it stop. He takes a few steps forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He studies the monument for a moment. He&apos;s searching, mouth suddenly devoid of moisture. It takes him a while to find the right name (though he memorizes the location, and he&apos;ll come back so many times that the stone becomes as familiar as his own face. More so, considering the mask. He could find Obito&apos;s name in his sleep). Eventually he finds it, the fresh carving in the dark stone. Then he puts the silly orange goggles on the ground before the stone, right on top of the flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to him, Minato kneels, and puts his hands together to pray. He thinks he should do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, he cries. He falls to his knees and bawls like a baby. And it isn&apos;t like crying; it&apos;s like being slowly ripped apart at the seems, and each tremulous breath feels like the one that&apos;s going to shatter him like fragile china dropped from its shelf. He cries in a way he hasn&apos;t since his father died. Sakumo&apos;s death sucked the emotion out of him: shut him down, closed him off, no entry beyond this point. But Obito came along with his tardiness and dry eyes and combative voice and force-fed him love. And it&apos;s going down bitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it could be worse. There&apos;s the way Minato gently reaches over and rubs his back as he sobs, hand firm and comforting and warm. The sun is out, and it doesn&apos;t seem like the crayon day is mocking him anymore, because through the sheen of his tears he can see the sunlight glint off the orange goggles. He thinks yes... it could be worse. &lt;i&gt;He&lt;/i&gt; could be worse. But he&apos;s learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He&apos;s not going to be worse than trash anymore.&lt;br /&gt;</description>
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  <category>obito</category>
  <category>naruto</category>
  <category>fanfiction</category>
  <category>kakashi</category>
  <category>minato</category>
  <lj:security>public</lj:security>
  <lj:reply-count>0</lj:reply-count>
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<item>
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  <pubDate>Tue, 04 Aug 2009 08:28:59 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>The Birth of Uzumaki Naruto</title>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/2675.html</link>
  <description>This is me speculating about Naruto&apos;s birth. Beta&apos;d by the lovely :devlily-flare:. I finished this a loooooooong time ago, but I went back a very days ago and touched it up and I&apos;m pretty damn happy with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Title:&lt;/b&gt; The Birth of Uzumaki Naruto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Characters:&lt;/b&gt; Minato, Kushina, a few random doctors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Warnings:&lt;/b&gt; character death, and people being sad all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word Count:&lt;/b&gt; 2636&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Notes:&lt;/b&gt; Some &apos;splain&apos; to preface:&lt;br /&gt;I think Kushina died in childbirth, otherwise I think she&apos;d still be alive. I can&apos;t figure why she&apos;d be dead otherwise... we know that Minato&apos;s sealing jutsu kills the sealer, but how would it kill her? The other scenario I can think of is Kyuubi was sealed in Naruto when she was still pregnant with him and birthing him killed her, but I like this idea less cuz it puts too much guilt on poor Naru for her death. Or maybe she&apos;s still alive. But that&apos;d be rather dues ex machina.&lt;br /&gt;I also think Minato and Kushina&apos;s relationship had to be kept secret for some reason, or else why wouldn&apos;t Naruto know who his parents are? We know Kushina wasn&apos;t originally from Konoha... maybe some diplomatic issues?&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. Those&apos;re mah theories. Take em or leave em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name=&quot;cutid1&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;font color=&quot;#585858&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;But where are you my angel now?&lt;br /&gt;Don&apos;t you see me crying?&lt;br /&gt;And I know that you can&apos;t do it all&lt;br /&gt;But you can&apos;t say I&apos;m not trying&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sir! Hokage-sama, please! This is a restricted area!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His long, torn and battle-worn jacket fanned out like a shadow behind him as he strode pass the harried nurse, using all his will power not to break into a run. Down the hall, several white-clad medic-nins bustled in and out of the room he was headed for. The bloodcurdling screams that had initially drawn him to the ward had stopped, thank God. But he couldn’t decide if the silence was actually worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several medic-nins spotted his determined approach, and they wavered in mid-step, throwing nervous glances at each other. Confused gazes; why was the Yondaime Hokage coming here, of all places, in the midst of such a crucial battle? A plump, brunette doctor bustled toward the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Come on, move yourselves! I need that blood transfusion fast! She’s wind type, which you know is hard to find, so get yourselves moving!” her booming voice hastened the nins to their jobs, though they cast a few more sideways glances at the battle-worn man as they went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stout woman suddenly noticed him, and her face set. She knew why he’d come. As he went to enter the room, she barred his way, settling her considerable bulk solidly in the doorway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This is her room isn’t it?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stared him boldly in the eye. “Yes it is and if you’d like to see some progress, &lt;br /&gt;I’d suggest you get out of the way and let us do our jobs,” then she added a pointed, “Sir.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I need to see her.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else would have flinched at his ferocious tone. But she was a sturdy woman, one who knew her job and knew how to handle authority. She glanced into the room where a swarm of medics still bustled around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t have time to waste arguing. You’ll only get in the way.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“One more person isn’t going to make a difference in there. I &lt;i&gt;need&lt;/i&gt; to see her.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She frowned fiercely at him, “If you really care about her, you’ll get out of the way and let us do our jobs!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m not going to let her go through this alone!” his voice was feral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long, echoing &lt;i&gt;‘beeeeeeeeeep’&lt;/i&gt; escaped the room and a flurry of activity and several distressed yells followed. The head nurse looked in, alarmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hokage&apos;s face was livid with rage and terror. &lt;i&gt;“Let me the hell in!”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glowering, she looked back at her Hokage: dirty and scratched from battle; snarling and dangerous.  She looked back in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned suddenly. “Fine, sit in that chair!” she pointed hastily to a bedside chair as she rushed back to her duties, “And stay the hell out of our way!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without another word, the blond man flew to the seat beside the bedridden object of the doctor’s concern. He sat, and the fight went out of his face immediately. He hadn’t really believed it… he hadn’t really realized until now that he had been in denial. But there it was. Even though he’d been worried, he’d never &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; believed that the ever-exuberant, loud-mouth tomboy he&apos;d fallen for could be... like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least three doctors crowded around her spread legs and rotated regularly to change their bloody gloves. They were too absorbed in trying to save the woman’s life to wonder what the ragged man was doing there. Her breathing was short, harsh and almost imperceptible.  Her face was so contorted beyond her normal carefree grins that she might have been another person. Her long red hair stuck to her pale forehead in sweaty clumps and her only color came from her burning cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctors rushed in and out, the activity meaningless to the blond man who sat with his happiness dying in a hospital bed, trying to push out a child. Minutes passed that weighed like hours. He could do nothing, not even ease the knots in her forehead or wipe the sweat off her face, for his limbs were beyond his use. There was no body without the soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, from behind her blue lips, a cry started, faltered, and gained strength. The doctors’ frantic and terrified shouts almost drowned her out, but he could hear her pained cry above them all. She let out a short, staccato screech; the doctors lunged, fretted... seconds passed and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crying. The unrestrained, high wail of an infant filled the room. The redhead let out another pained shout and convulsed. Several doctors hurried off with a small, loud bundle, but more still crowded around the woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“Stop the bleeding!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “Where’s the transfusion?!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “She’s rejecting the IV!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “Stop the bleeding!!”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blond man could only stare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her head jerked suddenly in his direction; not on purpose, just a twitch. An impossibly pained and beaten expression was on her sweaty face. He could feel himself being torn to shreds every second he continued to look, but some other being possessed his hand and placed it on her cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby gave a gasp and let out a shuddering cry louder than all the medics’ voices combined. The man glanced in the direction of the noise, as if hearing it for the first time, but not really knowing what it was he heard. In that second, he felt another hand take hold of his. He whipped around, heart racing. The hand had come much faster than he could have believed possible, but its pale grip was weak, much too weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leaned forward, glancing frantically from her face to her hand to her spread legs and back to her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina? Kushina, talk to me, baby.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyelids fluttered, her face lined with terrible pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“That won’t help! It has to be from a wind-type or it’ll only make things worse...”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina…” he could only say her name, and bring his other hand to clench her shaking one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyelids cracked open. She stared dumbly into the ceiling, her eyes dull and fevered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina… please, can you hear me?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She continued to stare into nothingness. He leaned in closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Please, talk to me baby, please!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He clutched her hand as if it were his last lifeline. In some ways it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t make that face…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her eyes had not moved or focused on him, so when the words reached his ears, he thought for a second he’d imagined them. Her face wrenched up in pain, she gasped and turned her head, and her tired eyes finally roved to his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I sa... I said stop it,” her words were halted and quiet, but still hers.  An echo of her independent, boisterous swagger, “With that face... I might think... you think I’m in trouble.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a struggle apparently equal to that of scaling Everest, she smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The look he returned could not really be called a smile by any definition; it was too full of heartbreak, “Can’t be too bad, if you’re talking like that...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nope... I’ll... be up to k-ick your ass again in a f-few days.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The redhead’s eyes wandered the room, her smile not surviving the grimaces of pain as the medics worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“The chakra transfusion—”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “We can’t do it!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “Damn it, we’ll loose her if we don’t get her blood now!”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She groaned and doubled up in agony. Her lover leaned in further, squeezing her hand in comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The village...” she let the words out in a gasp, trying to breathe through the agony. ‘What’s... happening?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young Hokage faltered.  His eyes wavered.  He bit the inside of his lip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kyuubi... what’s happened... with K-Kyuubi?” she tried to look at him again, but she couldn’t get her head turned all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He finally controlled his expression, “Nothing good. It’s been breaking through all our defenses. We... can’t seem to stop it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The infant let out another earsplitting cry, but she missed it in another convulsion of pain. Tears welled in her eyes and the medics’ shouting increased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So w-we’re losing...” she panted, her hand shaking in his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a Herculean effort, she turned to look into his face, “Do you have a plan?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He couldn’t look her in the eyes. He wet his lips, but it didn’t coax the right words out. The redhead stared at him, trying to decipher his expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“We can’t find any, not anywhere.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “We can’t operate if we can’t get her blood!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “It’s a boy...”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I could seal it,” the blond Hokage finally said, still unable to meet the woman’s eyes, “I’m sure I could seal it in someone else...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman shuddered again, trying to ignore the agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Som-someone... else?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s too strong for just me. If I tried to seal it within myself, it would only kill me and break free. The seal would be much stronger if it went through me first. If I divided the Kyuubi’s power, only gave the other person half Kyuubi’s chakra...” he glanced at the young woman again, but couldn’t hold her gaze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You need a... a v-volunteer.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man hesitated, then nodded slightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A...” he swallowed, then looked into her sallow face, “A very young volunteer. A child.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The redhead frowned, and then something like comprehension dawned in her eyes. She laid back, her face torn between pain and contemplation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A child would be able to handle the changes in its chakra channels... it should be able to adapt to support the Kyuubi and... and survive...” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“H-half the Kyuubi... sealed... in you...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hesitated, and then squeezed her hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. In me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’ll kill you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hokage could only stare. She shot him a fevered, agonized glance, hoping to be proven wrong, but he could afford her no words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Minato... I... I want to see him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blond blinked, then looked pass the frantic group of medic-nins to the source of the crying, as if just realizing what the noise really was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leaned back and caught the eye of a young male medic nin in the corner, who was wrapping a small, crying bundle. The medic stared back, confused. Then he caught the quick glare of the head medic. Finally understanding the silent request, his lips parted in surprise.  His eyes bounced from the baby to his Hokage and back. Looking at the blond with surprise, uncertainty and awe, he walked unsteadily forward, holding the bundle to his chest. He handed it reverently to the blond man and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s a boy, sir.” They’d already known he would be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The young Hokage gazed at the tiny face, red from its recent birth. The infant—already named, though, he didn’t know it—wriggled in the white blanket, taking in small sucks of air and whimpering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Minato...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He glanced at the woman he loved, then leaned forward, tilting the newborn’s face toward hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through a haze of pain miles deep, she smiled. She raised a hand to the boy’s tiny face, but couldn’t make it all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’s... beautiful...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hokage’s face could only suggest a smile. His throat seemed to have closed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Naruto...” She gave up trying to reach him, and settled for her giving him her warmest smile, “Such a good name. Jiraiya... will be proud... my little Naruto.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man bit his lip, and stared again at the baby-his son.  Suddenly the woman screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“Shit! It’s not working!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “Where’s the transfusion?!”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina!” The young man again leaned over her, “Kushina, stay with me!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panting heavily, she managed to open her empty eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do... do what you have to do... Minato. Save the village.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked into his eyes, her hand jerking in what might have been a comforting squeeze. “He’ll b-be a hero.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Head Nurse had seen grown men brought to tears in her hospital before, but it was much more unsettling when it was her Hokage, the strongest ninja in her village, the unbreakable warrior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He managed to compose himself, and let no other tears fall after the first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He’ll survive the process. I swear to you. I may not, but Naruto will.  And he’ll be a hero. And you’ll be one too, the woman whose son saved the entire village.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She grunted in what might have been understanding, her face twisted.  He grabbed her hand again, clutching the boy to his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Min-nato...” she spoke through heavy panting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“It won’t stop!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    “Damn it, we’re going to loose her!”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“S-save your village...” her lidded, feverish eyes no longer saw him, and he gripped her hand harder to affirm his presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tell... Nar-uto that... I love... him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There may have been words after that, but he could not hear them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Kushina...” his eyes were beyond his control, “I love you. I love you too...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the faintest upturn of her lips, she looked at him for the last time. Then the light went out of her eyes and her hand went limp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With small curses and the continuous &lt;i&gt;beep&lt;/i&gt; of the heart monitor, the noise of the medics petered out. But the young Hokage didn’t hear them anymore. He held her hand still tighter as the heat slowly left it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“I’m calling it...”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He bowed his head, bangs effectively hiding his face, but not his heaving shoulders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;“Time of death... 10:56.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The medics could only wash their hands and try to avoid looking at their broken leader, afraid to intrude on his grief. Seconds passed. Minutes. The Head Nin simply sat in her chair across the room, rubbing her temples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside an explosion rumbled in the distance. The doctors started and looked towards the windows then back to their Hokage, unsure.  More minutes passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The battle’s still on.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Head Nin’s voice was amplified by the silence and all the doctors looked at her in surprise. Her chin rested in her folded hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There’s something she wanted you to do, isn’t there?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, the blond, battle-worn young man made no sign that he’d even heard. Then, he slowly lowered the young woman’s hand to her chest. He folded her hands together. With shaking fingers, he gently slid her lids over her glassy eyes. He brushed the hair from her face. With a last caress of her cold cheek he stood, the weight of a much older person on his shoulders as he cradled his newborn son. He passed through the room, his face red and streaked with tears, but with a look of such purpose and determination in his eyes that the medics remembered he was their leader, their Hokage, and the strongest ninja in the village. He marched through the halls of the hospital, his son in his arms, beyond the reach of the medical-nins who had yet to check the baby for disease, determine his blood type or have the father sign the birth certificate.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something the woman he’d loved had told him to do first. He had a duty to his village. And as he nestled the boy—his Naruto—close to him, the Yondaime Hokage only hoped his son would understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;font color=&quot;#585858&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Looking at you leaving, I&apos;m looking for a sign&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfRhrWhuMdE&quot;&gt;&apos;The Hill&apos;, by Marketa Irglova&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</description>
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  <category>minakushi</category>
  <category>naruto</category>
  <category>fanfiction</category>
  <category>writing</category>
  <category>kushina</category>
  <category>minato</category>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/2406.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 03 Aug 2009 01:28:36 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>I got a fever. And the only percription is more cowbell!</title>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/2406.html</link>
  <description>Best website ever, or best website EVER??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style=&quot;border-collapse:collapse;width:400px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;3&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;border:1px solid black;border-top:0;padding:2px 0 5px;text-align:center;width:350px;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.morecowbell.dj/&quot; style=&quot;color:#AE7728;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12pt;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Make your own at MoreCowbell.dj&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style=&quot;border-collapse:collapse;width:400px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;3&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;border:1px solid black;border-top:0;padding:2px 0 5px;text-align:center;width:350px;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.morecowbell.dj/&quot; style=&quot;color:#AE7728;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12pt;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Make your own at MoreCowbell.dj&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style=&quot;border-collapse:collapse;width:400px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;3&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;border:1px solid black;border-top:0;padding:2px 0 5px;text-align:center;width:350px;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.morecowbell.dj/&quot; style=&quot;color:#AE7728;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12pt;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Make your own at MoreCowbell.dj&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style=&quot;border-collapse:collapse;width:400px;&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan=&quot;3&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;border:1px solid black;border-top:0;padding:2px 0 5px;text-align:center;width:350px;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.morecowbell.dj/&quot; style=&quot;color:#AE7728;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12pt;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Make your own at MoreCowbell.dj&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;width:25px;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.morecowbell.dj/recent&quot;&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;&lt;big&gt;I did the first four&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/big&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you don&apos;t get it, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.dirtybutton.com/videos/978-i-need-more-cow-bell/&quot;&gt;inject some classic Saturday Night Live into yer brain&lt;/a&gt;</description>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 24 Jul 2009 16:15:03 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Writer&apos;s Block: Pick and Stick</title>
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  <description>&lt;div class=&apos;appwidget appwidget-qotd&apos; id=&apos;LJWidget_29&apos;&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;div style=&apos;border: 1px solid #000; padding: 6px;&apos;&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you could only eat one kind of cuisine—Mexican, Thai, French, Italian, Indian, Chinese, etc.—for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style=&apos;font-size: 0.8em;&apos;&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;input type=&quot;button&quot; value=&quot;Answer&quot; onclick=&quot;document.location.href=&apos;http://www.livejournal.com/update.bml?qotd=987&apos;&quot; /&gt; &lt;a target=&quot;_blank&quot; href=&quot;http://www.livejournal.com/misc/latestqotd.bml?qid=987&quot;&gt;View 504 Answers&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;!-- end .appwidget-qotd --&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian Italian a thousand times Italian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LASAGNA &amp;lt;3</description>
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  <category>writer&apos;s block</category>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 10 Jul 2009 02:25:37 GMT</pubDate>
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  <description>&lt;lj-embed id=&quot;2&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stop it, Eddie</description>
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  <pubDate>Sun, 29 Mar 2009 04:24:13 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://forthelulz90.livejournal.com/1039.html</link>
  <description>&lt;img style=&quot;visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMzgzMDA1NjkxODcmcHQ9MTIzODMwMDYzNzcxOCZwPTYyNTEmZD1jb2RlYm94Jmc9MSZ*PSZvPTgyN2MzMDRjYWFkZTRhYzY4OTJkMWNkYTEyYTExN2Zl.gif&quot; /&gt;                        &lt;a href=&quot;http://blingee.com/blingee/view/87150805-Fab-Ozy&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Build your own Blingee&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Fab Ozy&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;http://image.blingee.com/images16/content/output/000/000/000/531/416906149_1682518.gif&quot; title=&quot;Fab Ozy&quot; width=&quot;263&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://blingee.com&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Build your own Blingee&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot;&gt;Build your own Blingee&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; width=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMzgzNTA1MDI1NjImcHQ9MTIzODM1MDUwNTM*MyZwPTYyNTEmZD1jb2RlYm94Jmc9MSZ*PSZvPTgyN2MzMDRjYWFkZTRhYzY4OTJkMWNkYTEyYTExN2Zl.gif&quot; /&gt;                        &lt;a href=&quot;http://blingee.com/blingee/view/87202711-Better-than-Neil-&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Create cool Profile Comments&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Better than Neil?&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;http://image.blingee.com/images16/content/output/000/000/000/532/417340353_1657315.gif&quot; title=&quot;Better than Neil?&quot; width=&quot;265&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://blingee.com&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot; title=&quot;Create cool Profile Comments&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot;&gt;Create cool Profile Comments&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;                YOU KNOW U WANT IT</description>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 16:06:19 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>VACATION</title>
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  <description>as I&apos;ve &lt;strike&gt;wanked at&lt;/strike&gt; told many capslockers, I&apos;m going on vacation for the next three weeks. sooo, if yer wondering where the good old capslock Avatar went, she&apos;s still around; she just doesn&apos;t have internet access :) bye all</description>
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  <lj:mood>nerdy</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Tue, 08 Jul 2008 02:10:13 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>Intro Journal? I dunno...</title>
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  <description>Umm, hello there. I&apos;m Reggie Tuesday. Just wanted to establish myself as a new LiveJournal-er. I... don&apos;t know what I&apos;m doing yet, but after stalking comms on this site for MONTHS (I exaggerate not) I figure I might as well join and possibly post myself :) &lt;br /&gt;One can find me at the following locations:&lt;br /&gt;DA: &lt;a href=&quot;http://reggietuesday.deviantart.com/&quot;&gt;http://reggietuesday.deviantart.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LiveVideo: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.livevideo.com/potatoesarecool&quot;&gt;http://www.livevideo.com/potatoesarecool&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YouTube: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/user/geniusface&quot;&gt;http://www.youtube.com/user/geniusface&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If... if you know me from one &apos;a those, feel free to friend me... I&apos;m still a major n00b so... well, we;ll see how I do. &lt;br /&gt;PEACE. &lt;strike&gt;But... not literally...&lt;/strike&gt;</description>
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