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crackedpumpkin · 12 hours
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i just woke up from being fully knocked out for 2 hours
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crackedpumpkin · 2 days
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yall the job market is so shit rn im not even joking i desperately need work fr like why is everyone asking for 5 years experience for an entry level role oh my god
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crackedpumpkin · 2 days
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Spicy fart- pfft u got me. Spicy farts must be painful
spicy farts are painful indeed, but a necessary process in life. Gut health is important everyone, even at the expense of your own asshole
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crackedpumpkin · 4 days
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The Red String Theory (02)
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𝗕𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 - 流放 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 | 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 a/n: t.w: Mentions of sexual assault in the middle of the chapter, please do not read if you're uncomfortable with it.
Another day, another basketful of laundry to wash, hang dry, and steam to perfection. The sun is no foe to underestimate either. On some days you’re grateful, because having its strong rays dry the clothes quickly means less work in between, while other days almost give you heatstroke a couple times. 
The day after you were informed of your mother’s passing, you reported to Mei Yi, the head maid of the palace who had then proceeded to loudly identify you as the daughter of the dead dancer. It stung, of course, but you promised yourself not to cry.
But that didn’t mean it was easy to hold yourself back from launching at the grown woman for a fistfight.
She had assigned you only the hardest chores of scrubbing the floors of the Grand Ballroom, and hand washing all the Prince’s garments. You had a difficult time; your muscles constantly aching after work when you got home to Hanoh.
Hanoh was nothing short of an angel like always, constantly taking care of you and making sure you had a full meal when you got back home. She’s the only reason why you survived up till now.
Your mother wasn’t able to have a proper funeral, but Fire Lord Ozai had allowed for you to create a small shrine in your home. It didn’t mean much though. You were too poor to afford a portrait, and her body was never recovered from the palace. All he allowed to be sent back were the accessories and garments she’d worn. 
Now, her necklace dangles from your neck as you carry the basket of dried laundry back to the main steaming room, where all wrinkles would get steamed out by other maids. On the way back, a couple of them say hello, having gradually warmed up to you after witnessing you scrub the floors and accomplish all of Mei Yi’s unfair tasks without complaint.
It was worth it to see her astonished expression at the spotless floor. 
Meals had also improved, from the first one being quarter of a loaf of bread and barely any soup being carelessly thrown to you, to an actual plate of rice with vegetables and some meat on the occasional good days.
The cooks had taken pity on you, and it definitely helped that you were nothing short of scrawny after a couple weeks of pathetic meals being served. Rumours of how Fire Lord Ozai had favoured your mother circulated throughout the palace, but no one was allowed to speak of her after her death. 
“Where’re you off to again, Wildfire?” Wei Yi, one of the cooks asks as you walk past the kitchen’s open doors. She dusts off the flour on her hands from making the pile of noodles on the side of the counter, walking over with a small packet. 
“You know me, the usual laundry drill. Mei Yi decided to give me the honourable task of washing the clothes of our nation’s rising suns,” You answer sarcastically, holding up the basket of red and gold clothes to prove your point. 
She chuckles, handing you the packet in her hands. You open it and look inside, eyes wide when you see the dried deer meat she’s prepared for you. Making sure no one else saw, you stuff it in your pocket and give her a thankful nod. 
 “Go easy on my cousin this time, won’t you?” Wei Yi jokes. You shrug nonchalantly, though a smile plays on your lips. 
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Attagirl.” It was during the third week of Mei Yi’s harsh words and utterly hard to please standards that Wei Yi had taken a step forward, defending you. You’d been shocked to find out that they were distant cousins, which was why after that day the difficult tasks were reduced.
Ever since then, Wei Yi had taken care of you in small ways, and it took about a few months for you to completely open up to her. Majority of the maids still kept a wary eye on you, but the bullying had stopped after you exposed another maid for talking blatantly about the Princess. 
You then solidified your position as not one to be messed with when you managed to get the attention of Fire Lord Ozai. It was simple enough. He had power, and you needed some. All it took was framing a maid for poisoning his meal. She deserved it though, for talking about your mother the way she did.
Physical wounds may heal, but the wounds on your heart won’t.
If only your mother could see you now.
Time passes quickly, and your 13th birthday is already coming up next week. The first few birthdays without your mother were spent locked up in your room, unable to bear the thought of growing older without her. One day though, you decided to try drawing a portrait of her, and that finally got you out of the room. From then on, you’d always have a birthday cake in front of the small shrine in the living room, imagining her singing happy birthday to you.
Your chest aches at the thought of her, shoving down all emotion that starts to arise in your chest at the memory of her laugh that seems to echo in the halls of the palace. When you close your eyes, you can almost imagine her running down them with your hand in hers, introducing each and every corner when she danced for the Fire Lord on occasion.
“Delivery,” You announce, placing the basket on the table next to the door. The other girls give you a mere glance of acknowledgement, continuing to do their work. That’s fine. You’re used to it. It’s not like they’d simply warm up to you, not after what you did to some. 
You leave without so much as a glance back, heading to the lessons Ozai had commanded you to take. Maths, calligraphy, and history were the main three, while the one that took up the most time was dance. Clearly, he wanted you to follow in your mother’s footsteps considering that he’s made you perform in front of him and his ministers regularly. 
You hated the smug smile on his face every time, high on the knowledge that he could say a single word and you would end up with a fate exactly like your mother’s. Your dance teacher is different, treating you like an imbecile and working you to the bone. The first time you had a class with her, she’d forced your legs wide open and pushed your pelvis to the ground, forcefully making you do the splits.
It hurt like hell, but now you’re grateful since it occasionally comes in handy during chores. 
“Have you never been taught to be punctual?” You secretly roll your eyes at Mei Yi’s shrill voice, following her pompous figure to the dance academy located near the palace. “It’s already been 4 years, and you’re still the unruly child that showed up at the doorstep. You should be grateful to your mother I suppose, since his Majesty’s favour still continues after her death.”
You automatically tune her out as you walk, unbothered by the same speech she’s been reciting for 3 years. You wonder if she’s written it down somewhere for her children to keep saying. 
Soon, the prominent signboard of the academy comes into view, and you all but race toward it. She huffs and snaps her red parasol shut, glaring at you. “Mind your manners you urchin, or you might stain the name of the palace!”
‘Oh, a thousand apologies, I didn’t get the chance to learn about them before the Fire Lord killed my mom.’ You bite your tongue to keep the words from coming out, but she can sense your impudence coming from a mile away, so she merely huffs and turns around to leave. 
Once she’s out of your sight, you heave a sigh of relief, going through the doors. This might be hell, but being around her is pure torture. 
“You’re late.”
Never mind. Being here is infinitely worse. You wince at your instructor’s strict words, watching her approach you with a dissatisfied look. “I’m sorry, I rushed over as soon as I could, but-”
“Did I ask for excuses?”
You press your lips together, lowering your head. “No, Ms Wu.” Luckily, she walks away and you exhale shakily. You’d never get used to this. Today must be a good day though, since she didn’t continue scolding you. On some days it’d escalate to full on rants shouted at your face.
She sits on a chair in the corner, watching you with a sharp eye. “Do your drills.” 
You obey, taking the ribbon and doing a couple of stretches before beginning the routines she’d drilled into you. Your muscles are on autopilot, legs stiff and hands relaxed as you lift them up and do a spin. 
“Again.”
You begin from the start once more, trying not to let her dissatisfaction get to you. However, you don’t even get halfway through before she interrupts.
“Again.”
You try to fully focus this time, inhaling deeply to calm your raging thoughts. 
“Again.”
You’re used to this. You can take it.
“Again.”
It’s only an hour, it won’t be long.
“Again.”
In the end, it takes 64 run-throughs before Ms Wu is finally satisfied. She releases you with an icy stare and dismissive wave, letting you go back to the palace to perform yet again for Fire Lord Ozai. 
You’d gotten changed and some maids had helped with makeup and hair. Hoping that you’re not late, you race through the hallways and down to the main dining hall, where Fire Lord Ozai, his ministers, and hired musicians wait for your presence. 
“You’re late.” 
Oh no. You immediately bow your head, trying to catch your breath as you apologize to him. The sight of you grovelling at his feet for mercy is a guaranteed escape from further punishment. You confirmed this when you saw the twisted grin on his face when you peeked at him through your sleeves.
Thankfully, this time is no different. He dismisses it with a wave, though his eyes glint dangerously as his gaze settles on you. Proceeding to ignore him and everyone else like you’d done every time, you raise your hands, getting into position.
As the first note rings through the air, you dance. 
Twirls and spins are the least of your worries, all your previous anger and frustration at Mei Yi, Mrs Wu, and the group of people watching vanishes. Somewhere in the dance, your eyes close, imagining how your mother felt while doing the exact same thing.
Was she scared? Terrified? Had she always given her best regardless? Did she truly love what she did? How would she react to seeing you now? Questions are meaningless in the face of reality, but it’s little comfort to feel her presence through your fluid movements and graceful steps. Maybe she’d even be a little proud. 
Would she really?
Your eyes snap open as the song ends, rapidly trying to catch your breath once more. Your gaze automatically lands on Fire Lord Ozai, hands clasping together under your long sleeves and praying desperately that he’d be satisfied with this performance. 
His cold eyes look at you for a long while. Not even his ministers dared say anything, though they all gave you applause at the end. But their opinion didn’t matter, not when the Fire Lord enjoyed toying with your life as if it were mere string unravelled from a neat ball of yarn.
He gives a single nod, no other indicator of whether or not he’s pleased. That’s okay. It’s more than enough to know that you’re able to live for at least another two weeks. As you make your way out of the hall, you’re stopped when someone tries to call out to you. 
Your steps slow to a halt, waiting for the official to catch up. He’s decently handsome, with dimples and a strong build. He leans against the pillar next to you, taking a moment. You raise a brow, curious of his intentions. No other person would approach you besides the maids when they needed something done. 
“Can I help you?”
He stands up properly with a cocky grin. “I’m here to make you an offer.”
“An offer?”
“Yes,” He suddenly takes your hand in his, causing you to flinch when he plants a kiss atop it. “One that you will like, I’m sure. Haven’t you ever dreamed of being outside the palace walls? I can provide you with that. You see, I was captivated by your dancing ever since I first laid eyes on you. You’re stunning.”
“Oh…” You’re not entirely sure whether to feel disgusted or flattered. You’d never been complimented by anyone before, be it for dancing or anything else. What are you supposed to do? How’re you supposed to react? “Thank you…?”
“Which is why,” He suddenly pulls you close to him, your entwined hands the only thing between you two as you gasp, “You should marry me.”
It takes a moment for you to register his words. “What?” 
“Be my wife.”
He’s completely serious about this, you can tell from his gaze. But his eyes drop from yours to your neck, his other hand on your waist and slowly tracing down to your hips. “You can get everything you’d ever want,” he whispers into your ear, “Freedom, riches, power…All you have to do is marry me.”
This is wrong. Something’s wrong. This isn’t the type of marriage Hanoh would tell you about. This isn’t one of love and promises for a better life, this one is filled with leers and dark words that try to tempt you over to him.
His fingers are dangerously close to your butt. In his overconfidence, his grip has loosened. You take the chance to shove him away, using the one card you’ve kept hidden up your sleeve. 
You firebend. 
Flames devour his hand, eating away hungrily, and it only burns brighter the more hatred you allow the fire to use as its kindling. Your entire being is repulsed by the sight of him, relishing in the way he falls to the ground with a cry, cradling his burning hand.
“You’re disgusting.” You manage to say, feeling icky all over. “You just want to own me. I’m only 13, you creep! I hope you die!” You hawk a gob of saliva and spit it at him, watching it land on his cheek.  “If you ever try that again on anyone, I’ll make sure your hand isn’t the only thing gone.” You say icily, walking away before breaking into a run.
The door slams shut behind you. Making your way to the pail next to your bed, you grab the soap and washcloth, stripping down and starting to wash yourself, scrubbing away at the pale skin. The motions are repetitive, yet they’re not enough to rid the slimy feeling of that disgusting man’s touch. 
The more you scrub, the more disgust you feel. The washcloth isn’t enough. You resort to using your fingernails, letting them dig away at your skin as you scratch obsessively. Beads of blood bloom from the scratches you inflict, only stopping when the soap stings the open wounds. 
It’s only then that you bring your knees close to your chest, letting the tears fall.
— — — — — — 
“What do you mean Zuko was in an Agni Kai?”
“I’ve told you not to refer to the Prince with his actual name! You’re lucky no one else was around to hear that, or you’d be thrown in prison,” Wei Yi scolds, reaching her hand out to lightly hit the top of your head. She’s surprised when you flinch away, a reaction she’s never seen from you. You uncomfortably adjust your uniform, averting your eyes.
She retracts her hand, letting it go as she hands you yet another little treat. You don’t bother to check it before putting it in your pocket. She raises a brow, suspicious. “Did something happen?”
You pause, shoulders stiffening when you recall the events of yesterday. Shaking your head helps to shove those memories down for now, looking back at her. “...No, I’m fine. I’m just feeling a little ill.”
“I told Mei Yi not to work you to the bone,” Wei Yi sighs, leaning back as she chops up more vegetables. “There’re other maids for a reason.”
“It’s fine. But what was that you were saying about Zu- the prince, getting into an Agni Kai? I thought he’s still under training.” You ask, handing her another knife.
“I’m not sure. All I heard was that he and his father got into a dispute, and it didn’t end well for him. You and him are on good terms, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say good…” Besides Wei Yi, the next person to have shown you kindness, no matter how small, was Prince Zuko. The first time you met him was in the garden. He was staring aimlessly at the sky, oblivious to the lack of sandals on his feet. You’d rushed over and informed him that only the Crown Prince and Princess were allowed inside. 
He looked at you blankly, answering you with a simple ‘I know’. That’s when you realised whom you were talking to. You’d apologised, of course, bowing your head repeatedly and begging for your life to be spared. Instead, he gestured for you to come over and sit next to him. 
Sitting next to him was terrifying, but being away from your gruelling work made it seem like a luxury. The gentle breeze caressed your faces as he opened up about his mother, finding solace in a complete stranger. It was a moment of bonding between you both, having lost your mothers to the same person.
His duties with the crown and your desperate attempts for survival made you drift apart, childhood innocence now lost with the years that pass. In the end, you’re left with simple acknowledgements, small nods, and glances of recognition across hallways. Status halted your budding friendship, but it didn’t mean you felt nothing upon hearing the news. 
Wei Yi nudges you. “I hear the guards are changing shifts soon. Sometimes there’s a small gap in between, enough for a maid to take a drink of water to him.” She pretends to not notice you leaving, dutifully tending to her own preparations. 
His bedroom is located on the floor below his father’s, signifying his status as the Crown Prince. True to Wei Yi’s words, no guards are around when you reach, so you pull open the heavy doors with all your might and quietly enter.
The room is grand as expected, with red and gold decor all over the walls. Small dragons are etched into every corner of the room, the beautiful art on the window blinds leaving you speechless. 
“Who’s there?”
You reveal yourself, stepping past the curtains around the bed. You press your lips together to hold back the gasp when you lay your eyes on him, but the sharp inhale makes him scoff. His left eye is heavily bandaged, a faint red staining the gauze right on top. Bruises and faint burns cover his upper body, but those would heal in time. 
His eye on the other hand, you aren’t so sure. 
“It’s you.” He sounds exhausted, drained even. There’s an emptiness to his words, a hollowness in his eyes. It’s a sharp contrast to the proud ego he’s displayed walking through the palace. Whatever happened in the Agni Kai must’ve broken something inside.
“What happened to you…” Your whisper makes him grin bitterly. 
“What does a lowly maid need to know?” You flinch at his harsh words. But he softens, realising that he’s lashing out at the wrong person. “My father happened.” He admits, looking away from you. “I made a mistake.”
Whatever he’d seen back then to make him confide in you, he must’ve seen it again because he continues. “I went against him. I- I didn’t mean to insult him, but he said that I stained his honour and mine. All those years of training, of being his son and for what?” He chuckles angrily, clenched fists at his sides. 
“I got banished. Now, I’m not allowed to return until I find the Avatar and I swear,” he pauses, looking up at the ceiling. “I will find him.”
You remain silent throughout, letting him speak. You’re here to just see how he’s doing, but somehow, he’s doing so much worse than you thought. There’re no words you can offer to ease his pain, and as a maid, there’s nothing you can do to help either. You don’t have any power.
“I don’t know what you did to get on his bad side,” your eyes slowly widened at his words, “But it was bad enough for you to get banished with me.”
“Wait, I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” You chuckle nervously, eyes searching his for an answer. You find none. Getting to your feet, the only thing on your mind is fear.
Crippling, paralysing fear.
That same fear grips its dark claws into your heart, digging into it with each passing second. The guards are surprised when you push past the doors and run to the Throne Room, confusion and anxiousness slowly taking hold of your body. 
What did Zuko mean? How did you get on Ozai’s bad side? You’d done everything to keep it right, to gain some form of power to ensure your life would remain untouched. You barely reach the Throne Room before the guards pin you down onto the floor. You land with a pained cry, your hair splayed around you as hot tears form in your eyes. 
“Stop.” 
A single, commanding voice is all it takes for the guards to get off you, standing to attention as the Fire Lord himself approaches. You push yourself off the ground, but don’t dare to look up at him as you bow.
“Fire Lord Ozai, I received some very distressing news that I need to clarify with you.” 
“Speak.”
This is your chance.You find it hard to swallow, but you have to push ahead. Surely this must be a mistake. You’ve been nothing but obedient. You could’ve fought back, could’ve run away from the palace after he killed your mother. Instead you bowed your head, submitted to him to ensure your life and Hanoh’s remained untouched.
“I was informed that I am to leave with Prince Zuko to hunt for the Avatar. Surely this must be a mistake-”
“What’s wrong with my order?”
At that, you raise your head in shock, a guard moving to push it back down before Ozai stops him with a single look. “So the words are true? I am to leave with Prince Zuko?”
He frowns, regarding you with nothing more than apathy. There’s no need for words for the confirmation to ring true in the silence, your heart racing as fear finally takes hold. Sweat trickles down your neck, breathing shakily.
“Why?” You cry out as he turns to walk away and resume his duties. You inhale sharply when you spot a familiar face holding the scroll Ozai had been looking at moments earlier, recognising his leery smirk as the official who had tried to assault you only yesterday. Now, he stands tall and proud next to the Fire Lord.
“Must I explain myself to you, a maid?” Ozai’s cold words turn the atmosphere into one so thin you can barely breathe. But as soon as you see the amused glint in his eyes, you realise.
He knew. He knew about everything.
He knew, and used it as an excuse to get rid of you.
“Wai-” Your arms are grabbed by the guards once Ozai’s interest is gone, uncaring to how harshly they grab you. Your head is muddled, all thoughts crashing into each other with no sense of order. 
What had all your effort been for? What had all these years done? 
“Princess Azula!” The official calls out in greeting, the young princess entering with her entourage. 
“Father,” She greets him, spotting you in the corner. Her lips twist into a disgusted frown, “Why is she still here?” 
“She was just about to leave,” The official assures her with a smile.
“Good. Trash should be taken out anyway. I suppose it gets passed down in the family.” She snickers, sauntering over to you and taking a lock of your smooth, raven-black hair in her hands in admiration. “Pretty. But you,” a single flick of her fingers has a controlled flame dancing atop her fingertips. “Don’t deserve this.”
Before you can react, she cleanly cuts off your hair, letting it fall to only your collarbones. Discarding the cut hair carelessly to the floor, a servant rushes over with a clean cloth for her to wipe her hands with. “There,” She tosses it at you with a smile, letting it hit your cheek. “Now you look exactly like your mother did.” 
The guards begin to haul you away. You’re too stunned to react, limbs limp in their hold. Your voice is gone, all words dead in your throat. That final line had hit you where it hurt the most. “One last thing.” You don’t bother lifting your head up, all hope within you extinguished. 
“He is no longer a prince.”
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crackedpumpkin · 4 days
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The Red String Theory (01)
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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻 - 满月之夜 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁
On the night of the winter solstice, you were born.
As soon as your name left your mother’s lips, she collapsed from exhaustion. You were then wrapped in a swaddle of blankets by the kind nurse who agreed to help when your mother pounded on her door, with her water broken and tears streaming down her cheeks.
She had then gone into labour in the nurse’s house and finally gave birth to you after hours upon hours of extensive labour. You vaguely remember the full moon that night. It was luminous and cast its soft beams of moonlight down onto you from the tall windows of the nurse’s home. 
She’d taken a long time to heal, and even longer to go back to work after giving birth. If not for Hanoh, you’d both have starved to death on the streets. Sometimes though, you spotted a sad look on Hanoh’s face when she looked at your mother leaving for the palace. You never thought much of it.
Besides, why would you? As long as you have a roof over your head, food on the table, and both of them, you’re content as is.
Time passes by quickly when your days are filled with mere thoughts of when your next meal will be, along with what toy or trinket your mother would bring back from her excursions from the palace. Many mornings she’d lay down next to you on the rickety bed, and you’d both wake up around the afternoon. 
You’d been taught how to do chores since you could walk, with Hanoh instructing you on how to handle peeling potatoes with a small knife. One can only imagine your mother’s outrage when she returned to your bandaged hand full of nicks and scrapes from amateur handling of the knife. 
That day, they both got into a fight, and the sound of your crying was the only thing that stopped them. After that, they never argued in front of you again. Hushed whispers with barely concealed anger was the most of it.
You were only ten when you were brought to the palace for the first time.
Your mother calls out to you, and the very mention of your name makes you flinch. The times she used your full name were rare, and this was no exception. Usually, she’d call you BaoBao, a nickname filled with affection and love.
“Yes, mama?” Her hands brush against your ear, tying up the silky strands of hair with a simple red ribbon. She fastens the knot with a satisfied smile, placing her hand on your cheek and cradling it. 
You tilt your head, unsure of how to react. You study her face, trying to discern if you did something wrong. Her eyes are weary, you notice, with tiny wrinkles beginning to appear on the corners of her eyes. Her skin is still as dewy as ever, though hints of age and exhaustion begin to dim that glow. 
She’s never looked more beautiful.
“Listen BaoBao, we’re going to the palace now. The Lord wants to see you.” 
The mention of the Fire Lord is enough to make you stiffen, taking a step back and shaking your head unsurely. “Don’t wanna.” 
“Please, BaoBao?” You can tell that she’s a little desperate, from the way her smile becomes more forced. The feeling of desperation is unfamiliar to you, but you can tell that it’s important to your mother. 
“...Okay,” You agree, tugging on the hem of your shirt. The material is patchy in some places, a testament to the number of times that she’d sewn together and mended the tattered shirt over and over again. It’s not the prettiest shirt in your wardrobe, but it’s your favourite.
“Thank you,” She breathes a sigh of relief, her fingers gripping your forearms a little too tightly. It’s painful. You wince, but no expression of pain escapes past your lips even if it hurts. You didn’t want to make her sad. Not after the many times she’d come home with tears in her eyes, sobbing quietly in the corner of your room. 
Ever since you could remember, you grew up in the same house as the nurse who had helped your mother give birth to you. While your mother went to the palace every day, Nurse Hanoh took care of you, from feeding and changing your clothes to even reading and writing.
You never questioned why she had taken you both in so readily, and neither did your mother. Once, you had questioned if she was your grandmother, but all she did was look at you sadly in response. Mother just told you to never ask again.
The guard brings you both to the palace after she dresses you in a new shirt you’d never seen before. The golden colour reminds you of the sun, and decorative swirls around the hem are pretty enough to keep you distracted. The material is smooth, unlike the small itches you’d get from your usual clothes. 
“Now BaoBao, do you remember your manners?” Your mother asks with a shaky smile as you follow the guard to the Fire Lord. You nod enthusiastically. 
“Auntie Li said I was a good girl yesterday for helping her carry her stuff inside!”
Her shoulders relax significantly, gazing down at you warmly. “That’s my daughter.” Her smile falls when she notices where you are, her grip on your hand tightening. 
You copy her bow, keeping your gaze on the ground, looking anywhere but at the person right in front of you. “My lord.” 
The throne room is vast, his throne right at the front and centre above his subjects. His presence is overwhelming, almost frightening. The neighbourhood kids had always whispered scary tales about the Fire Lord, sometimes to the point you’d get nightmares. 
It takes everything in you to not cry. But you can’t, not now. You have to keep it together for your mother. 
“You may raise your heads.” His commanding voice rings throughout the room, demanding attention and respect. You slowly look at him, biting on your lip as you try not to cry. Your mother notices, gently pulling you closer and giving your hand a small squeeze. 
“It’s fine,” She murmurs, keeping her eyes directed at him. 
He scans you up and down, a sort of bored satisfaction in his eyes as he sighs. “Dance for me.” 
Your mother starts to move, letting go of your hand. However, a single gesture from him makes her stop, glancing from him to you. “My lord,” She begins, the shakiness of her voice betraying her, “She is only eleven. She doesn’t know-”
“Dance.” He repeats coldly, his gaze remaining solely on you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that only bad things awaited if you disobeyed. So, you clumsily copy the movements you’d seen your mother practice at home, almost falling flat on your face had she not helped to catch you.
“I apologise, my lord.”
“Perhaps she may need lessons,” He muses from his throne, before raising his hand in a dismissive wave. “You may leave.” The guards approach you, your mother flinching before she realises that they’re headed for you, not her. Regardless, she stands in front of you protectively, shielding you from them. 
“My lord, I apologise for her disrespectful behaviour. I shall bring her home to ensure her education is no longer put off.”
You didn’t understand most of the words, to be honest. All you can see from behind her flowy dress is the mild intrigue in the Fire Lord’s eyes. He looks directly at you, for the first time since coming into this room. 
Needless to say, you avert your gaze, your entire body shaking in fear that you might be separated from your family if even the slightest of mistakes is made. To your relief, the guards pause from yet another gesture from him. 
“I see. You are both dismissed.”
— — — — — — 
You were only eleven when your mother died.
It’d been a normal day like no other, with you doing the chores as usual. A couple of months had passed since the visit to the palace. Nightmares had plagued you for a week, waking up each time with a cold sweat all over. They eased off though, when your mother began bringing home more trinkets and toys for you, seemingly more lavish each time. 
She always said it was because they had given her more money in exchange for her dancing, and true to her word, Hanoh would find piles of coins beside her bedside table to buy more food and groceries. Life was good. 
That is; until the soldier showed up at your front doorstep.
“What?” You breathe out, all feeling in your legs gone as soon as he delivers the news. 
“Your mother has been executed in the name of the Fire Lord, for showing him disrespect and stealing the princess’s treasured belongings. He has, however, shown you mercy in the form of becoming a maid in the palace. You are to report to Mei Yi first thing in the morning.” The guard replies stiffly, turning around after delivering the news. 
“No…” Hanoh whispers in horror from beside you as you sink to the floor together. It’s hard to accept what you’re feeling right now, all of Hanoh's words rendered mute as silence overcomes all your other senses. The ground is all you can see - all you can even focus on, but even that’s blurry. You can sense her warm hands on your shoulders, holding you close to her, but something’s different now.
Your mother’s gone.
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crackedpumpkin · 4 days
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| The Red String Theory |
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𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
chapter 1 | chapter 2 |
Summary - 总结:
Legend has it that the gods tie an invisible red thread around the ankles or little fingers of individuals who are fated to cross paths in life. Despite obstacles and challenges, the thread remains unbroken, ensuring that the two souls eventually find each other and fulfil their destiny together.
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crackedpumpkin · 12 days
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who needs plane etiqutte when u can just pass out throughout the entire flight
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crackedpumpkin · 14 days
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Honestly, loving your infuriating melodies series so fair!💕I was wondering, do you already have the series planned out?? Or is it made up as you go?
Also wondering if you have an idea for when the next part is out 🫣, no pressure though!!
Hello love! Thank you for asking about it, i love getting asks like this hehe (info dump time)
Basically every fic series I write always has some form of outline in mind - Infuriating Melodies included. I've tried multiple tikes to plan out each fic thoroughly, but end up always veering off in another direction.
Because of this, I tend to have just a rough outline of where I want this fic to go, but it can change often depending on what I feel would add to the story and growth :)
In a nutshell, it's a mix of both! Different people have different writing styles and it's nothing bad! Whatever works for you just does, and I think that's what makes loads of fics really interesting to read^^
as for when the next part will be out, hopefully soon! im currently unemployed and applying for jobs, plus i started a little content creation thing on the side :) i write when i can, and ill do my best to write more for cole as well so that you guys can enjoy~
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crackedpumpkin · 16 days
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idk if this is a controversial opinion or not but i THOROUGHLY enjoyed the lego ninjago movie like idc if that shit isnt canon it was a roller coaster i will willingly ride.
like cmon, jackie chan as master wu? llyods daddy issues?? the fucking humour in this had me in a chokehold i need whatever the writers were on
of course i have my own gripes but as a standalone movie i think it deserves many kudos. i rewatch it every now and then for a good chuckle
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crackedpumpkin · 17 days
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Honestly weird thing😭 I found you by your miles fanfic bc omg love him and then I look to ur acc and fucking find out you made fanfics of Nishinoya(i was so inlove with him before) and fucking LEONWRDO HAMATO and i was a nerd for leo for 2019-2021 and when i was a kid too but whatever. And during those times, i could BARELY FIND ANYTHING… and then you pop up when I have my eyes set on miles.
And then like months later, I get into big hero six wnd guess what? You made fanfics of fucking Hiro Hamada. 🤷‍♀️ bro isk what this means but we’re most likely soulmates so go ahead and kiss me
LMFAOOOO ARE WE....👉🏻👈🏻SOULMATES FR???
it's insane how my interests have varied over the years but like, it's so evident I've got a type. (end me)
Fanfiction plagues me and I am happy to let it guide me to my deathbed /hj
im seriously so glad that u enjoy my fics though, you're one of the reasons why I still write till this day and have the motivation to push off my procrastination
also as requested 😘😘😘
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crackedpumpkin · 17 days
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Tbh i sometimes use ur stories for motivation to continue writing whenever I have writers block so I got to ask, how do you know what happens next?
Sometimes I let my imagination take the lead but sometimes I write a summarised plot down. But i need more advice sigh.
awwww thats so sweet of you!! im honoured that my writing is motication for you to continue, it brings me so much joy to see that what i write impacts people in some way im crying
also in terms of writers block, i suffer from it 24/7 to be honest ! but what i find that helps me a lot...
1. relaxation. stress always makes me even more unmotivated to finish, and recently ive been finding the joy in writing again, without the stress of constantly thinking of updating all my fics etc
2. always go back to the source material. whenever im stuck on a character decision or i just cant think of how to progress, i go back to the show or movie and rewatch it. it helps let the floodgates of your imagination open^^
3. i think of their dynamic a lot. for example, my character dynamics are mainly filled with banter between the two, and i think being sarcastic or finding inspiration from shows with a sinilar dynamic helps me with dialogue which in turn gives me ideas for scenarios
4. dont forget to love what you're writing^^ circling back to point 1, i constantly found myself putting off writing because i just dont feel motivated or happy to write it. its completely normal to feel this way!! to me, its just a sign that i need to relax a little more and allow the creative juices to flow.
5. find what works best for you. i tend to come ul with more fully fleshed out plot ideas when i bounce them off someone, and @theblindhag and i always end up talking about one of my fics and ideas on what to do next whenever we call. it's inevitable. the other day, we literally spent over an hour on the backstory and plot of an upcoming fic im already writing for sokka lmao
6. reacj out whenever you need help! sometimes a fresh set of eyes is what you need. perspective matters. are the nuances that you're trying to incorporate into the story evident enough? is the angst building up well? getting feedback is so important and whenever i see a comment or reblog on my fics im on cloud nine. hearing what others think about my writing brings me so much happiness
ps. please comment more on my fics u guys i need validation that im doing well and what yall wanna see :)
i hope these tips help, and feel free to drop an ask anytime ^^
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crackedpumpkin · 17 days
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hellooo! I wanted to ask if you have a day you think you’re going to post the next chapter of the rewrite of Cherry Blossoms in a different dimension. Also I didn't think it was possible but I really like the rewrite of the first chapter! Keep up the great work!
oooF cant believe some of yall still read that stuff lmao, im trying to get the next update out by this week, hopefully before i fly back to my hometown :))) how do you like it so far?? does it tingle the senses 👀 lmk i need the feedback so i can decide how to take it from there!
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crackedpumpkin · 17 days
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crackedpumpkin · 18 days
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goodnight moon goodnight windows goodnight tumblr goodnight monster under my bed i bequeth you to hell
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crackedpumpkin · 18 days
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i would trust dallas liu with my first newborn have you seen that man he would raise my child to have an incomprehensible amount of charizzma
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crackedpumpkin · 18 days
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hey guys genuine question whats a good way to reset a sleeping schedule or smth haha its definitely not 6.19am and im still awake.....
rly tho wld apprexiate any tips for getting my sleep cycle back in order 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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crackedpumpkin · 18 days
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|| ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡꜱ || 08 ||
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[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]
“No.”
Ren, the student council president looks at you with a sigh, having skimmed through the proposal you handed to him in the morning. He places it down on his desk, pinching the space between his brows and massaging it with a grimace. “I already told you that the school won’t let this run.”
Ever since Hiro had suggested the idea to you, it’d taken root in your mind, planting new ideas here and there until you made a whole proposal, PowerPoint presentation and all you’d used to persuade Leo to be on your side. Suffice it to say it worked. 
The urgent article had been published without issue, but it quickly got edited to put the school in a good light by Ren. It’d taken a little over a week to put everything together, but now you’re ready. The proposal is bulletproof. 
“But,” You raise a suggestive brow, “you and I both know that you want this to be printed.” He pauses, barely opening an eye to give you a frosty stare. You simply smile widely in return, knowing full well that regardless of how much the students and teachers like him, or how well-off he is, he doesn’t like how the school operates. 
“Look,” You sit down on the armchair reserved for special guests in the spacious lounge, glancing down at another paper with words underlined in prominent red ink. A slight squint reveals that they’re all things that can be improved on in the school, with your journalism club being given more of the school’s budget. “I don’t like whatever the school’s doing, and I sure as hell don’t know why you’re still here when your parents could’ve transferred you elsewhere,” a slight narrowing of his eyes makes you skip over that subject quickly, “but the journalism club was made to give the students a voice.”
You can sense him considering your words, so you barrel on, not intending to stop. Hiro had given you a match, and you’d be damned if it isn’t going to start a fire. “So many students agree with me about the school’s stupid measures, and they won’t even listen unless we do something about it! Are you ready to watch everyone be denied their bathroom rights? What if someone’s still pooping and the lights turn off? They’d be terrified!”
“Those are the examples you chose to go with?” He raises a brow. You wince.
“Okay, maybe not the best ones to start with. But think about it. If we publish this and make sure it gets out there, they’ll listen. They won’t have a choice, right? And I’ll be sure not to credit you in it in case it goes wrong - which it won’t,” You quickly add, watching his nose scrunch. 
He’s silent, staring down at the proposal where you’d outlined all the benefits and reasons why you should do this. You’re not sure whether to move; it feels as if though as soon as you do, he’d shoot it down faster than before. The ticking of the clock above the whiteboard is almost ominous, but the rhythmic sound clams you somewhat. You’re confident in this; confident that you’ll be able to convince him.
All you need is a moment. A moment of hesitation, a moment of recognition, a moment of acknowledgement that you have something solid. And as soon as you spot it, you lunge. 
— — — — —
You slam open the doors to the journalism clubroom with an air of victory. Leo turns around in his spinny chair at the sound, eyes wide and jaw dropped in excitement.
“You didn’t…”
“Oh yes, yes I did.” Your wide grin is starting to hurt your cheeks, but this doesn’t phase you in the slightest, marching over to him and staring him down. “I just got Ren’s stuffy butt to approve our proposal. You and I? We’re gonna head this together.”
Leo takes off his glasses, wiping them as he ponders for a moment. “Don’t you have work? Are you sure it’s a good idea to juggle everything, including school?” 
“I’ll be fine,” you wave off his concerns, sitting down in your own designated spinny chair in the mildly cramped room and turning on your computer. “First, we gotta plan this out.”
“Not now you won’t,” he snorts, getting up from his seat and walking to the door. He opens it, pausing in the doorway. “Your shift starts in thirty minutes. It takes you twenty to reach there from here.”
“Oh crap, you’re right. I’ll call Cass. Thanks!” You race out the doorway, grabbing your bag on the way. Leo shakes his head with a disapproving sigh, though a hint of an amused smile ghosts his lips. 
It does in fact take about twenty minutes to reach the Lucky Cat Cafe. Well, nineteen minutes and thirty seconds to be exact. But who’s counting? 
Apparently Hiro Hamada.
He’s already waiting for you at the counter with an apron on and a toothy smile that immediately drops when he sees you. “About time you got here,” he grumbles, passing the apron to you. “It’s been a nightmare.”
“Aw, did Cass drag the gremlin out of his cave?” You say in mock pity with pursed lips, dropping your voice to a whisper. “It’s you. You’re the gremlin I’m talking about.”
“Wow, that’s a salary deduction. Maybe twenty percent.”
You hold your hand over your heart in mock offence, having stashed your bag under the counter. “Not twenty percent!” You drop to your knees, the devastating news crushing your soul as he stares down at you with a smug smile.
The both of you hold this charade for a few more seconds before a twitch of his lips makes you both dissolve into laughter. You get back up from the floor, leaning against the counter. Luckily, there aren’t many customers around that you have to attend to. The only people are the regulars, like Miss Darcy from down the road and Tom from the bookstore. They both merely chuckle, used to this behaviour by now.
Rifling through your bag, the smile drops from your face when you realise the shirt you’d brought along to change into is suspiciously absent. Textbooks? Check. Pencil case? Check. Snacks in case you get hungry? Check. 
Everything is there but your shirt. Clearing your throat, you glance up at Hiro who’s making a drink for himself. “So…” You start, noting the stiffening of his shoulders. 
“What do you want?” He asks warily. Sometimes your requests ranged from borrowing a pen to dismantling his precious megabot. The latter was done under his strict supervision, of course. 
“I kinda, forgot to, maybe, bring my shirt…?”
He turns around with his mug in hand, scanning you up and down to figure out if you’re lying. Judging from your sheepish grin, you’re not. “Follow me.” He sighs. The both of you head to his room after placing a sign at the counter saying you’d be back in five minutes. 
Something’s different, you realise, upon entering. Hiro’s side is well-lit, having finally drawn the curtains and allowing the natural sunlight to enter and illuminate the room in a warm glow. His desk is mysteriously tidied up, all his blueprints arranged in a corner next to his notebooks. You watch him go through his drawers, taking a sip from the drink you’d bugged him to let you try until he relented.
Huh. It’s fizzy yuzu tea. You’re unsurprised by this odd combination, quickly figuring out how he managed to make it. It’s nice. Taking a few more sips, you notice the absence of his brother. He must be at SFIT again, probably working on Baymax.
“Here.” You’re interrupted from your thoughts, taking the shirt Hiro hands to you. “Bathroom’s down the hall.” You hand him back his drink which he happily takes, sipping away at the same place your lips touched. 
Oh. That’s an indirect kiss. 
You shake your head, dismissing those silly thoughts before heading to the bathroom and quickly changing into his shirt. 
Indirect kiss? So what?
His shirt is more comfortable than you thought. You recognise the logo on the front belonging to a famous YouTube channel. The shirt itself is a faded red, resting loosely on your shoulders. 
Exiting the bathroom, you fold your shirt up and tuck it securely under your arm before approaching Hiro. He tilts his head upon seeing you, nodding approvingly. “I was worried it wouldn’t fit.”
You arch a brow. “Really? It fits like a charm. It’s a little loose on the shoulders though, you pig.” The effect of your words turn out the way you intend them to, grinning widely as he scoffs. 
“Return it then.”
“Sorry, can’t hear you! Busy working!” You call out, slowly making your way down the stairs. However, a thought occurs to you and you pause, poking your head back into sight before he heads back to his room. “On a totally unrelated note, do you know where Cass is?”
“What do I get in return for being your informant?” He crosses his arms. Your shoulders slump, glaring at him.
“Very funny Hamada. Cute move. Where’s Cass?”
He only smirks in response. “Bold of you to assume I’m joking.” 
“I’ll just call her.”
“Wait!” You’re interrupted from unlocking your phone, Hiro running a hand through his hair in defeat. “She’s at the grocery store. I think she’s coming back soon.” A victorious chuckle slips from your lips, pocketing your phone. 
“Thanks Hamada, ‘preciate it.”
The shift in the cafe is as usual, though you keep an eye out for Cass. Once she returns, she invites you to dinner once more, citing a new recipe she wanted to try. You agreed eagerly, planning to ask her about your request for some adjusted shifts afterwards.
Once the cafe has been wiped down, dishes cleaned, and the ‘Open’ sign flipped to close, it’s time for dinner. You’re making your way up the stairs when you hear the door open and shut behind you, turning around to see Tadashi putting aside his umbrella and taking off his shoes. 
“Oh hey, didn’t know you were having dinner with us tonight.” He says, surprised when he sees you. He hands you another pair of house shoes that you accept graciously, slipping off your sneakers. 
“Yeah, Cass invited me again. You guys should take this out of my pay y’know.” You chuckle warmly, slowly walking up the stairs with him. He laughs along with you, but his eyes widen slightly upon noticing something. He looks at you oddly, tilting his head. 
“Is that Hiro’s shirt?” You look down at it, suddenly feeling self-conscious and tugging on the hem. 
“I forgot to bring mine, and he lent me this one.” You spot the smirk playing on Tadashi’s face, scowling as you punch his arm lightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
He rubs his arm with another chuckle, reaching the top of the stairs. “Sure, sure it doesn’t.” You spot Hiro setting the table, Cass busy stirring a pot. The younger Hamada acknowledges your presence with a nod, Tadashi checking on the chicken in the oven. 
You slide into your seat beside Hiro’s. Your seat is now a designated spot at the table, Cass claiming that you’re over for dinner often enough to have your own space. “Hey,” you greet when he sits down, handing him his fork that had somehow made its way onto your plate.
“How’s the article?” The question catches you off guard, surprised that he’d remembered even telling you about it. He spots your incredulous smile, offering a small one of his own. “I’m taking that as bad news.”
“Actually,” you begin, unable to suppress your excitement, “I got Ren to agree to the proposal and he’s gonna turn a blind eye for now. We’re gonna start by asking people to do our survey and compile the information, then get signatures for a petition! Ooo, maybe the art club might wanna do some posters or something.” In your enthusiasm, you fail to notice Cass and Tadashi exchanging looks, quietly beginning to eat while Hiro listens intently.
“That sounds good, how long do you think it’ll take before teachers shut you down?” 
Propping your elbow up, you rest your cheek on your hand with a huff. “As if. They’re too busy sucking up to the principal and Ren’s parents to even care. If not for all those donations his parents made, maybe they’d be serious about teaching us.”
“Tell me,” he points his fork at you, “have you ever considered embezzlement?”
“Aand that’s a conversation for another day.” Tadashi interrupts against his own will, reaching out and roughly messing up Hiro’s hair. The victim looks up with a scoff, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken on his plate. 
Huh. Jokingly as it was said, you’d never actually considered that before. What if…?
Nah. You shake your head, ignoring the suspicion that sneaks its way into your mind. For now, dinner is the priority. Surprisingly enough, conversations are civil and the atmosphere is light-hearted. 
“Looks like it’s your turn to do the dishes,” Hiro calls out, standing in front of the sofa and allowing himself to fall back with a loud ‘oof’. You casually kick his leg that’s dangling off the armrest, making your way to the kitchen. 
“Thanks, honey,” Cass greets warmly when you approach the basin. She closes the fridge door, a bowl of washed grapes in her hands. “I’m gonna go binge my drama now, so be careful on the way back! I’ll get Hiro to walk you home.” She narrows her eyes as soon as you part your lips to decline, her pointed look enough for you to merely nod in response.
Gotta hand it to Cass, she’s the best boss you’ve ever had. Working at the Lucky Cat cafe is the best blessing the universe has decided to give you, and there’s no way you’re ever going to let them down. Tadashi saunters over, nudging your side.
Pausing your dishwashing to briefly raise your brow, suggesting a silent ‘What’s up’ makes him smile. He nods to Hiro who’s going down the stairs. “Do me a favour and make sure he doesn’t spend too long in the garage. I know you don’t have school tomorrow, kid. Stay over if it gets too late.”
“Sure.” You shrug off the dishwashing duties to Tadashi, following Hiro out the door and into the garage. It’s still as tech-chic as ever, the stunning glow of the vending machine they have overshadowing all the other cool gadgets. 
“I can’t believe you still have to pay for your snacks.” You muse, your sudden presence startling Hiro. he flinches at the sound of your voice, his hand gripping his chest with wide eyes. 
“You have got to stop doing that.” He sits down, turns on the lights above his desk and begins to solder wires. You pull up another spinny chair and roll over to him, peering over his shoulder with intrigue. 
“What’s that?”
Apparently, he quickly forgets people are around because he flinches once more. “Seriously?” He calms down quickly and sets down his soldering gun, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Get a bell.”
“So spill,” you ignore his disbelieving splutter, prodding at the headband on his desk. “What’s this all about then?”
He sighs, perhaps sensing that you’re not going to leave anytime soon. “It’s the headband you suggested last time. It controls the microbots, but currently…” He lifts the headband and plops it onto his head. You watch it light up, turning your head when you hear something crawling toward you. 
A river of microbots is slowly but surely approaching. You prop your feet up on the chair seat, sitting cross-legged in fascination as Hiro focuses. Once they reach both of you, they move into a large pile before promptly collapsing in on itself and scattering all over the floor. 
“That’s all I got so far.” You look back to see the headband back on the desk, Hiro hunching over and resuming his soldering. “But it won’t take long for me to figure it out. I’m probably like, halfway done?”
You don’t reply. He doesn’t notice your silence, but it feels as if you’re already drowning. You drop your gaze to the floor, eyes fixed on a small stain that’s been there since the first time he’d introduced you to his workspace. 
Moments like these suck. As much as he forgets that you’re there sometimes, you always forget that he’s a child prodigy — someone so smart, so capable of doing anything that you often wonder why he’s still here. Still in San Fransokyo, going to bot fights and working at this cafe.
And then there’s you. A scrappy teenager who’s still in a school that probably has corrupted teachers. A random spokesperson in the journalism club, just someone who started writing as an escape mechanism and ended up liking it so much she wanted to be a journalist. 
You’re nobody compared to him. 
Hiro must’ve sensed something off. You’re snapped back into reality when he coughs awkwardly, having swivelled around in his seat and is now looking at you with a hint of concern in his eyes. 
Realising you’d been staring blankly at the floor for probably a while now, you force a smile back onto your face. “Is there, like, a spider on my face? Or are you just mesmerised by my charm?” 
The concern in his eyes is instantly replaced by disgust, reaching out a hand to shove you away. A genuine giggle from you does make him crack a smile though. “There’s a spider on your face.” 
“Don’t even joke about that.” You punch his arm lightly, feeling at ease from his reaction. “Hey,” you tap his shoulder, noticing a date on his calendar that’s circled in red. “You didn’t tell me Tadashi’s birthday is next week.”
“You never asked.”
“Very funny, Hamada,” you reply grouchily, straightening up in your seat. “Have you gotten his birthday gift yet?”
“I’ll get him the same thing: a massage coupon and a coupon of servitude.” He shrugs, having gotten used to your habit of fiddling with the contraptions on his desk when you’re thinking. You roll a screw between your fingers, shooting him a sceptical glance. “Hey, he loves it!” He states defensively.
“I haven’t gotten him anything,” you grumble, setting down the screw and taking a random wire he hands you. “Wait, are you free this weekend?”
“I think so- wait, why are you asking?” He looks down at you with a raised brow, already suspicious. You scoff, crossing your arms and discarding the wire back onto his table which he nonchalantly sweeps into the small trash bin right next to you.
You cross your hands, before remembering that you’re about to ask him a favour. “Could you come with me to the mall so I can buy a present for Tadashi?”
��He’ll love anything you get him.” Hiro leans back in his seat, stating an obvious fact. You roll your eyes. 
“I know that, genius. That’s why I wanna get him an actual good gift. God knows he hasn’t had one from you in years.” The offended look on his face makes your eyes widen, clearing your throat. “I mean, not that massage coupons and servitude aren’t good gifts, but I was thinking of something else. Besides, he kinda…saved my life. I would’ve been homeless without his offer. I owe him.” Your voice goes a little quieter, almost as if admitting to yourself that truly, you wouldn’t be here without his help.
“Fine,” You look up to see Hiro place his soldering gun down and turn to face you properly. “I’ll go with you this weekend if,” He holds up his phone, the screen filled with a picture of a new movie that’s just come out. “We watch Iron Man.”
“Looks like you got yourself a deal.”
— — — — —
@urfavarab @dee-zbignuts @frogindisguise @mangodamochiii @stars4won @whoisgami @nayleannn @millerworld @bodieohbo @1intrusivethoughts1 @randobeetlehouse @riritvt @louvredea
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