#it's ostriches all the way down

[lhazaar]

[cis person voice] well dan savage said—

[faeriekit]

So, in the spirit of causing problems on purpose, I wanted to share a new idea with you that I just had:

Young/“warm” ghosts have very large cores. As they get more settled into their Obsession, their core condenses. The smaller the core, the older the ghost, etc.

One day, Danny gets really hurt, and he runs off to heal. Pick your favorite headache victim to find him, and boom! Suddenly they have a goddamn ostrich egg to watch over!

Got that? Great!

Now imagine all of Danny’s frenemies turning the world upside down, trying to find a fucking marble.

This reminds me of the flour bag episode ouhdsfohsdoih poor Valerie 😂

Just—

Sam and Tuck find the baby sling they used for their flour bag assignment and reluctantly put themselves on BabyWatch, babysitting a giant pearlescent-blue glass blob of a bestie, who weighs a ton when he's asleep by the way. They look absolutely bizarre doing it ("Hasn't that assignment been over? ...Since, like, Freshman year?") but they're reallyreallyreally hoping no one's paying too much attention at, uh, how cold the room gets, his weird spherical shape, the emf readings from the classroom ghost sensors...

Meanwhile. Val, who poofed him, is losing her shit. Where the fuck is he?!?!! Research says he should be like the size of her thumbnail but he can't be that small that she can't find him?? Hello?? Did she— Did she lose him in the grass??? Cut to a montage of Red Huntress furiously tidying up the grassy knoll she had just been fighting Phantom in because he has to be somewhere!! Right?!

Meanwhile:

Vlad hears that Valerie has his little Badger poofed, and is old enough to have no idea how large a warm newdead ghost would be— Wait, he should be able to find the boy first and keep him captive! Obviously now is the time to get a jump on the boy— Why can't he find Phantom, this shouldn't be so hard—

And the vultures hear it from Vlad, and hey! If they find that little marble, free lunch! Now all they have to do is find the thing...why can't they find the little sucker...

And Skulker hears it from the vultures. It would be so easy to skin the half-ghost. As soon as he finds it.

...Where is it.

Skulker leaks the news to Ember who gossips with Kitty who reports to Johnny, and suddenly there's a hunt for a baby-blue glass bead both in the Infinite Realms and in the human world (because not everyone got all of the memo, exactly.) And someone should have found it by now. Someone ought to have found Phantom by now.

Is he...is he actually gone?

Meanwhile, Sam and Tucker are incorporating the equivalent of Danny's comatose body into their art project so that they can have him on them at all times at school without anyone thinking of it. Or. Well. Have anyone thinking too much of it. He makes a very pretty centerpiece. They might even get a B on it! High five!

👻*time skip* 👻

Danny wakes up two weeks later dazed, confused, nauseous, and covered in hot glue and craft stickers.

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 2

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Credit to yrsonpurpose for the GIF

"Ghost, Radio Check Please" you engineer says as you pull from the pits.

You hadn't got a win yet, of course you'd had many podiums. Some even last year when you were with Alpine, more this year with Red Bull.

You wanted the win, even though it meant showing who you were and that came with a price, you felt ready. You just needed a reason to come forward with it.

However, even with Oscar's assuring words earlier in the day your P15 start because of the way qually went for you didn't feel like a win was applicable.

"Check" you say before driving out of the pits and into P15 behind Sargent and in front of Tsunoda. You really though that today might be the day and it would have been iconic it being your home Grand Prix and all. But it just didn't look possible when you weren't even in the middle sector of the grid.

You released a big breath as the red lights went out, you dived forward taking over Sargent gaining one place. Esteban who was ahead of him, seeing your Red Bull immediately forgot about Stroll ahead of him and starting defending against you.

For the first 14 laps, in your sector there weren't many changes in positions. Up ahead you had no idea what the grid looked like. But nothing much had changed behind you.

It wasn't until you could feel your tires both getting warn out and starting to struggle with the typical UK drizzle that was upon the race.

"Need to pit soon, cars getting harder to manage with the rain" you admit, knowing that the pit crew already probably have the intermediate tires ready for you.

"Pit on the next lap. Max will pit after you" he advises. However as your coming into the pits, you can see that Vertsappens Red Bull is currently there having its tires changed.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask pulling up behind Max just as he leaves making you pull forward.

"Copy" is all you get and you let out a frustrated sound that was between a yell and a grunt.

Red Bull made up for it with an exceptionally quick stop for you and you got out on the track again. Luckily, others had pitted as well due to the weather conditions, so you came back out in P15.

"Look, I'm sorry about the incident Christian and the strategists are looking into it but there something I got to ask you, because clearly these methods are no longer working!" you hear you engineer say, you ignore him for a split second taking the corner before you throw back your moody reply.

"What?"

"Who runs the world?" he asks and a smirks comes onto your face. Lewis may have hammer time, but boy oh boy...

"Girls, John, Girls run this mother fucker" you shout into the radio before breaking late and overtaking Lance who was the unfortunate soul currently trying to defend from your driving.

You gain further up, Ocon ahead of you.

"Gap to Ocon?" you ask.

"0.3" you hear, you drive up so your behind him, you swerve the tiniest bit right, he does the same making for a accelerated swerve from you to the left and a clean move up to P12. And just like that you started combing through the grid, Hulkenberg, Gasly, Alonso, Albon, Russell, Sainz and Leclerc all got combed through until you were sitting sweetly in P5, Max, Lando, Lewis and Piastri just ahead.

"Lewis and Piastri are ahead. Fighting for P3, if you catch them both by surprise thats a podium. Gap is 1.2 seconds. Increase on Sector 2"

"Copy that" you say, both the McLaren and Mercedes drivers once you get closer to them are dancing around each other slipping in and out of P3.

"Like two ostriches doing a tango up ahead John" you laugh into the radio.

Just as you manage to overtake the two distracted drivers down the small straight John comes back onto the radio.

"Max has damage to his car. He had to come pit and he's currently P9. You can win this, go prove Beyonce right" he says, this was all you needed. You were currently P2, Lando the only driver ahead of you and thanks to the straight a significant gap had been created between you and Lewis and Oscar.

"Distance to Lando"

"2.4 seconds, speed up that Sector 3 now and you've got him. He's on the newer tires but you can get him. Bring it home" he tells you and you go very serious. No thoughts just the track, you catch up to Lando within a lap, fighting with him for P1.

"Max has climbed back, he's P5 and Oscars trying to defend" you engineer says, you didn't currently care about how close Max was to you, just getting that stream on Lando that would get you the overtake.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- Can i just say Martin todays race has been one of the best of the season, for some reason we haven't been allowed to aire the radio between Ghost and his engineer but whatever was said... he's had an amazing drive today, going from P15 all the way to P2 and potentially P1 depending how Norris actually ends up defending against him. Its just been tremendous Martin Bundle- Yes its been amazing from Ghost's comeback to, Lewis a 7 time world champ struggling to overtake and defend the current rookie on the grid, to Max Verstappen reporting car issues, to the lack of DNF's we've had here today at Silverstone David Coft- Oh my lord whats this? He's going for the overtake

Lando goes too wide, his wheel clipping against the track edging making you be able to accelerate past as he struggles to re-gain control.

You manage to get a good gap ahead around corners that prove difficult for the McLaren now behind you.

"One lap Ghost, hold" John advizes and you keep driving, the last lap feeling like a cool down, the sweat drenching all around you due to the panic and sheer oomph of the driving conducted today.

SKYSPORTS LIVE: David Croft- AND WITH THAT FOLKS, WE HAVE THE FIRST WIN FROM GHOST WINNER OF THE SILVERSTONE 2023 GRAND PRIX, LANDO NORRIS BEHIND HIM AND OH MY GOSH A LAST MINUTE OVERTAKE FROM HAMILTON MEANING A TRIPLE PODIUM HERE FOR BRITAIN! Martin Bundle- What a day here at Silverstone, and now three brits are on the podium at their home race

You took yourself out the car, handing the wheel to a Red Bull member before pulling yourself with the halo to stand on the front of the car. John and a few other members pull you down to celebrate with them, before you are ushered off to be weighed.

The cool down room was awkward as you could never speak to the people in there, so you would shake hands before excusing yourself. You took the balaclava off, before tucking your hair in and placing your helmet back over your head.

Now it was time for the podium! Your first winning trophy and you couldn't be more excited, nothing could bring down you mood!

Or so you thought.

You went onto the stage, knowing this was the reveal. You and Christian had spoken about it, knowing your first win was inevitable.

"Today has been a historic day at Silverstone. Not only do we have three Brits standing proud on their home podium, we've had one of the biggest comeback of the year today, despite the mistimed pitstops and the weather, he has pulled his first win out of the bag!" an announcer says coming onto the stage.

"Before we go any further Christian Horner would like to say a few words" an announcer admits, Lewis and Lando turn to you excited to finally see the person behind the helmet. Lando had this running joke that you must be obscenely ugly which is why the helmet is kept on because 'Ghost' is intimidated by him and all the other attractive faces present on the grid.

"Hello everyone. Today doesn't just mark historic reasons for the ones just said. Ghost joined us at the end of the 2022 season when we brought them out of their 2 year contract with Alpine, there was ability and promise there that the team didn't want to both miss out on or go to an enemy team and become a menace on the grid. However, Alpine let a few of us at Red Bull in on Ghost's little secret and to say we were excited was an understatement. This year they have proved their worth and i cant wait for their future at Red Bull. That being said, i think its about time i introduce you to Ghost" he says gesturing towards you.

"This is Y/N Y/L/N" he shouts as you take of the helmet displaying your face to the world. Not only could gasps be heard from the drivers right next to you but from the whole crowd not expecting this outcome.

Lando was in a state of shock, he didn't know what would unveil from that helmet but Oscars longtime crush Y/N Y/L/N the sweet Social Media Manager for Ghost was not one of them.

He was confused at how she had managed to pull of this double life, but ultimately was so happy. This was an important day for her, being the first female to ever win a F1 race.

His eyes flicked down to Oscar in the McLaren section as he'd promised to come watch his best friends win, even if he wasn't up there with him. Lando's gaze met his and there were too many emotions upon the usually chill and placid male that he couldn't dechiper what he was feeling.

There was anger, sadness, frustration, betrayal. And he could have sworn, there were a couple of tears brimming the edges. Lewis had you pulled into a hug right now, congratulating you for everything you've achieved up until now, as all of your achievements were bigger and meant more.

As you went to turn to Lando to pull him into a hug, seeing as you guys were friends as yourself, but seeing his gaze fixed on Oscar a feeling of hurt formed in your chest. His gaze locked onto you and the force of his anger and betrayal could have knocked you back.

He ran off into the crowd back towards the paddock, you wanted to go follow but Lando shook his head. As much as this had hurt Oscar, you deserved to enjoy this moment.

But knowing you'd hurt Oscar, you didn't enjoy a single moment.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover

[missmaniac25]

Ateez Scenarios - Realising you're in love with your best friend

OK these are super short but I just... yeah anyways! Each member's piece is between 300 and 400 words (basically just drabbles)

The tl:dr: (they make more sense in context) Hongjoong: hearing your favourite song Seonghwa: laughing so hard it hurts Yunho: having his missing hoodie Yeosang: he remembers things about you San: makes you a personal gift Mingi: driving home late at night Wooyoung: you associate him with an adrenaline rush Jongho: sleeping in for 5 more minutes

~

Hongjoong:

Late night snack runs were your favourite menial thing to do with Hongjoong. It was partly the fact that you both could be extremely chaotic the longer you were without sleep but it was also one of the few times when it was just the two of you.

You ducked behind the chips just as Hongjoong’s head popped up on the other side of the aisle. You stifled your giggles behind your hand before sneaking down the row, making your way around to him.

“Yah!” He yelled when you appeared next to him, his hands raised like he was ready to fight. “Where did you even come from!?”

“I’m everywhere… like a ghost.”

The pair of you break out into giggles before moving on to find more food. While on your trek, something catches your attention: a song has started to crackle through the speaker of the shop. The second you know what song it is, your gaze shoots to Hongjoong, only to find him already looking at you with a wide grin on his face.

“This is our song,” he happily tells you.

“Hell yeah it is!”

The song that made you two become friends. The song that you both know all the words too. The song that every time you hear it, you think of him.

The next three minutes are spent taking turns singing as wildly and as purposefully over the top as you can, while the poor cashier looks on in dismay. It doesn’t matter if anyone else sees – life is too short to worry about it anyways.

As the song ends and you catch breath, you look to your friend again.

If every night could be like this, seeing the sparkle in his eye from happiness, you’d sell everything you have to make it so. These nights, nights with Hongjoong, were the moments you lived for.

~

Seonghwa:

“I can’t breathe!”

Who even knows what you were laughing at in the first place. It doesn’t matter; the more Seonghwa laughs, the further into hysterics you fall.

The other patrons of the restaurant are eyeing the pair of you as you continue to cause a ruckus.

Seonghwa has his head on his arms, lying on the table, looking somewhat like an ostrich with its head in the sand. That realisation causes you to laugh more. And as you laugh, you see Seonghwa’s shoulder shake; he’s trying so hard to contain himself and failing so spectacularly.

Finally, he looks up at you, tears in his eyes but a smile on his face.

“You’re impossible,” he manages to say in between catching his breath.

It takes a few more minutes before you’ve calmed down enough to resume a normal conversation.

“Ow,” you sigh. “My abs hurt.”

“Do you even have abs?” Seonghwa wipes his cheeks dry one last time.

“Rude much. I might have abs. After that I probably do.”

Your best friend smiles at you – he’s so pretty, always has been. Even his laughter is pretty, and even though you’ve heard it for the past five minutes, you’d do anything to hear it again. It’s like a song you’d have on repeat for the rest of your life if you could.

“You alright?” Seonghwa asks.

“Yeah.” You shuffle a little in your seat. “Just… thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

“Oh.” His cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your words. “Thank you.”

His eyes are wide but full of affection for you. They almost shine.

“You aren’t going to say it back?” you joke, making him groan. “I pour my heart out to you and you can’t even return the favour!”

The smile returns to Seonghwa’s face and you feel the laughter bubbling inside of you again. Try as you might to hold it in, a giggle escapes you.

It doesn’t take long for you both to end up back the way you started – who even cares why you started laughing in the first place?

~

Yunho:

“You really have too many clothes.”

A soft ‘oof’ is heard as you throw another jersey at Yunho, more specifically his face.

“That’s why I’m trying to get rid of some of them, you nugget!”

Yunho just smiles as he sits on your bed, the lighthouse in the sea of garments that surround him.

“You didn’t have to come over today,” you chastise him. “But you chose to.”

He just laughs as more items are thrown his way.

Your cupboard is eventually empty and the sorting process can finally begin. It’s a relatively painless ordeal, tossing what you don’t want on the floor and what you do want back at your best friend, who gives his two cents when you aren’t sure if something is worth holding onto anymore or not.

“I don’t even remember buying this.” You hold up an extremely oversized hoodie. “Weird but I’m still keeping it.”

As it lands in Yunho’s lap, he’s quick to pick it up and give it a once over.

“This is mine!” He says, drawing your attention to him. “Why do you have it?”

“It’s yours?” The confusion is clear in your voice.

“Yes! Did you steal this?” Yunho laughs. “I thought I’d lost it ages ago.”

There’s a pause as you stare at each other, neither having the answer.

‘Well, if you really want it back, you can take it.” You shrug.

Yunho fiddles with the hoodie, feeling the material under his fingers before he shakes his head.

“You can keep it.”

It starts a back and forth of ‘are you sure’, ‘yes I’m sure’, ‘are you super sure?’ until your best friend can’t take it anymore, getting up and pulling the hoodie over your head.

You stand, looking at each other. Yunho smiles triumphantly and for some reason you feel butterflies in your stomach.

‘That’s never happened before,’ you muse to yourself.

“Will you just take the damned hoodie?” It’s less of a question from Yunho and more of a command.

With a sigh of defeat, you put it on properly and get back to organising while Yunho finds his place on your bed again.

“Besides, it looks cute on you.” He says nonchalant and your stomach feels weird again.

‘Oh no, I’m falling for my best friend.’

~

Yeosang:

“Do we have to do this every time?”

“Yes, now hurry up!”

Somewhat reluctantly, Yeosang lets you take his hand and pull him through the shop until you reach your goal.

The shelves of scented candles call to you and you happily oblige, picking up the first one in front of you and giving it a sniff.

“Hmmm,” you hum in happiness, putting it back and picking up the next one.

Yeosang can only stand and watch in amusement. Every time the two of you go out, you end up here, and because he’s such a good friend, Yeosang will let you smell the all the candles to your hearts content, even though he no interest in it whatsoever.

“This one is so nice!” you hold it out to him.

He doesn’t sniff it but his eyes scan the label in record speed.

“Well, vanilla is one of your favourites and that one has vanilla in it.”

You turn the candle around only to see that he’s correct. But there’s something else you want to find out.

“You know my favourite scents?” you query, still cradling the item in your hands.

“At least when it comes to scented candles, yeah,” Yeosang says. “I do pay attention to you, you know, even when you’re rambling about… I don’t know, what smells nice and what doesn’t.”

Theres a second where your brain short-circuits: that’s so kind that he remembers the little things about you.

But then you remember that that’s his job as your best friend. Right?

“Well, now I feel bad cause I don’t know what you like!”

Yeosang just shrugs and starts telling you that it’s not important but stops as he finds a candle thrust under his nose.

The follow fifteen minutes are spent figuring out Yeosang’s preferences. And you’re making damned sure you remember them because that’s what best friends do.

Right?

~

San:

San proudly places the shoe box on your kitchen counter. He’s tried to make it look pretty by sticking picture of the two of you to the outside, along with random cut-outs of pictures from a magazine.

“Happy birthday!” He sing-songs, a smile taking over his whole face.

“A box?” You tease. “San, you shouldn’t have.”

His expression immediately changes to one of annoyance.

“I’ll take your present back if you’re going to be mean about it,” he says, reaching for it.

You manage to react faster and grab it closer to you.

“Nah uh!” You give San a pointed look. “My birthday present. Mine!”

You don’t miss how he smirks before settling on the barstool next to you. You also don’t miss how his demeanour shifts when you open the box. He seems nervous all of a sudden, wringing his hands as he leans forward.

With the shoebox now open, you find a plethora of white envelopes. Pulling the top one out, you see the outside has a nearly written ‘1’ on it.

“Um, let me explain it,” San buts in, opting to look at the box rather than you. “So, there’s fifty-two letters. One for every week of the year. Cause we don’t always get to see each other I thought it would be nice to still be with you somehow.”

The piles of envelopes start to look blurry as your eyes get teary. It must’ve taken a lot of effort. So much time spent on you.

“I know it’s not very grand or anything,” San tries to justify, still wringing his hands.

“It’s perfect,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “Thank you.”

You fling your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He wastes no time hugging you back, his relief felt in his hold on you.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” you mumble into his shoulder.

San takes a deep breath.

“For you, I’d do so much more.”

His words bury themselves deep in your heart and you know they’ll stay there forever.

~

Mingi:

It’s an unofficial rule that the passenger side of Mingi’s car is reserved for you. Even tonight, when he offered to drop some of the others off before taking you home, the three other boys all squished into the backseat, leaving you to be comfortable up front.

The car pulls out of the last driveway and the journey to your home begins. Mingi passes you his phone and without even telling you, you open the music app and turn the volume down slightly.

“What you in the mood for?”

Mingi shrugs, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe something soft.”

You quickly find a playlist you like and let the music play.

There's nothing the two of you need to say. You could, and have, spoken nonsense for hours on end but tonight, you know it’s not the time.

Instead, you turn your head to look at your best friend, the lights outside cast shadows over his face, shifting as you pass under each street light. It draws your attention to his nose, then his hair, his cheeks, his chin, his eyes, his lips…

‘Has Mingi always been this attractive?’

It’s a random thought but one that doesn’t go away easily.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Mingi softly laughs when he catches your staring. “This feels kind of like an interrogation.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you Mingi.” You don’t take your eyes off of him. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

The atmosphere in the car feels thick enough to cut with a knife. Pulling up to a red light, Mingi turns to look at you.

“I’m not perfect,” he says, and before you can argue he speaks again. “But you are.”

An eternity passes before the light changes to green and he’s forced to look away.

There's too much weight in his words for you to process right now. You just hope you can keep your sanity until Mingi gets you home.

~

Wooyoung:

Two taps. Two quick taps on your leg to let you know what’s about to happen. You hold on a little tighter to Wooyoung’s torso as he hits the gas and pulls off, speeding down the empty road.

Its not often that you ride with Wooyoung on his bike. He nags and nags for weeks on end until you relent and let him take you for a joyride. Its not that you don’t enjoy it – if anything you enjoy it a little too much. The adrenaline is addicting and experiencing it with your best friend… well, maybe the adrenaline also makes those lines a bit blurred.

Wooyoung steers his bike into a mostly car-less parking lot and switches off the engine before helping you climb down.

“That was a fun stretch.” Wooyoung pulls his helmet off and shakes his head, trying to make his hair look good again.

“At least we weren’t pulled over this time,” you tease after following his lead, tucking your helmet under your arm.

“That was once!” Wooyoung is fast to defend himself. “And it wasn’t cause I was speeding!”

You give him your best ‘if you say so’ face before dodging as he tries to playfully hit you on the arm.

“I won’t take you out riding anymore.”

It’s an empty threat – both of you know it – but for some reason the idea of Wooyoung doing that makes you feel hurt.

You shift a little bit on your feet and look away but Wooyoung notices the change immediately.

“Hey,” he calls as he gently taps your legs to get your attention.

Your heart thumps in your chest, the rush of emotion coming back to you.

“I’ll never leave you behind, ok?”

He smiles and blood rushes to your head.

“Ok.” You smile back and it eases Wooyoung’s worry.

He pushes his hair back before putting his helmet on; you do the same.

Two quick taps is all it takes to get your heart pumping, even when Wooyoung doesn’t take you out on the bike. Even when it’s just him.

~

Jongho:

The wind howled outside of the window, causing you to shudder where you lay. Despite being buried under about a hundred blankets, just the sound of the wind made you feel cold. Winter mornings were not fun.

There was a shuffling in the bed next to you as your best friend rolled over as he slept. Jongho could sleep through just about anything. He’d once slumbered through a raging thunder storm, only waking up because you’d essentially screamed in his ear when the power had suddenly gone off.

The room was still dark as you reached for your phone, the light from the screen momentarily blinding you.

08:34

With a hum you decide it’s better to get up and get the day going than to rot in bed. Slowly, you sit up straight, regretting it instantly as the cold air surrounds you.

“Where are you going?”

The sleepy voice causes you to jump in your own skin.

“Go back to dreamland,” you tell Jongho, bracing yourself to finally get out from under the covers.

You nearly succeed but a heavy arm drops over your legs and you quickly find yourself being pulled back into the warmth of the bed. It’s not worth fighting; Jongho has always been stronger than you.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles, settling down once again, you now firmly in his grasp.

The heat from his body warms you up much faster than you thought it would. It could also be because you realise that despite sharing a bed with Jongho on many an occasion, you’ve ever been this close before.

The longer you lie with him, the calmer your heart becomes.

Five minutes turns into ten. Ten into twenty.

You don’t know how long you stay there, wrapped up in Jongho’s arms. But what you do know is that if given the choice, you’d stay there forever.

~

@eazycel dearest, here you go 😘

[notjuststardust]

"I love you more than meat!" Luffyxreader

You get ghosted and in a chaotic turn of events end up hanging out at the carnival with Luffy for the day! This was meant to be a short drabble about carousels that shamelessly turned into this. Mutual pining and fluff with a touch of angst!

TW: Mentions of abandonment issues.

This morning had been the start of a good day or what was supposed to be a great day. Instead, it had given birth to a spectacle of chaos, leaving you alone to wander what was thought to be a joyous event with nothing but a shackle of despair to partner. Settling in a quaint corner of the festivities, you seated at a bench, observing the sparkle of infinite auburn redden the iridescent leaves of Firesky island as festival goers came and went. You were looking for 2 faces. You just wanted to see 2 familiar faces yet from the crowd came only strangers, faces smeared in cotton candy, grins infinite on their faces from Firesky’s island's yearly sunsets festival. 

 It wasn’t until the entrance was completely devoid of life that you’d realized what exactly had happened.

 You had been ghosted.

 It had been obvious since the moment you’d docked but you were no pessimist. After all, your crew had gone out of their way to be sneaky about your arrival (much to your rubber captains dismay), heck, Sanji had even cooked you a small tray of treats for your friends but now the tray was empty and so was the fair's entrance. A sour taste ran through your gut. Maybe they had written that they couldn’t attend and you just hadn’t gotten it yet.

 That’s when you heard the screaming.

 It was a familiar ululation yet with the fog of your distress it took more than just a moment to pinpoint that the squawking wasn’t from some buzzard in the trees. Your head snaps in the direction of a food stand down the way, locking in on the unmistakable yellow straw of your captains hat. His presence pulls a smile. Then a frown. What if he asked about your friends? Or the absence thereof?

 “Please! I swear ‘ll pay ya’! I just need t’ run back to my ship real quick-“ Luffy’s plea earns a snort from you. This wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten his wallet and from the swell of noise from the shopkeeper you could tell your captain was being threatened with a sentence of work to pay off his debt of funnel cake, again.

 Before Luffy says another word you pull a 20 from your pocket and etch the most charismatic grin you can muster. Though Luffy thinks it’s an expression that could make Princes bow the knee the shopkeeper isn’t impressed, muttering a quiet, “Women these days and their choice of men,” before you drag the rubber man along with you into the mess of people. You turn to give the man a scolding but before you can muster a word Luffy pulls you into a bone crushing embrace, nuzzling his face freckled in powdered sugar to your own as he shouts a thousand thanks to you.

 “Thanks’a bunch! You totally saved me back there-“ you pull back, shaking your face in an attempt to discard of the powder but Luffy just cackles, licking his pointer and smudging a smiley face bolden your cheek. “Come on’, a smile suits’ ya’.” He chimes before he sees the unmistakable glitch of anger in your brow, smoke nearly blowing from your nostrils as you step out of his embrace.

 “You were supposed to give me an hour.” However much to your denial it had been an hour an hour ago and now your body was clinging to something to be angry at. You sigh, remembering yourself, and of course, Luffy doesn’t understand. He just cocks his head. 

 “Yeah, but I couldn’t wait that long, I was hungry!” He protests, crossing his arms with an annoyed pout. “S’ not my fault you haven’t told your friends about me.” He looks around, your step faltering a beat. A pit grows in his stomach. Paying no mind to the other bystanders Luffy ostriches his neck over the crowd, peering into the souls of passerby in search of your companions only to boomerang his head back into place and find you several paces ahead, tears threatening to ruin the small touch of makeup Nami had prettied you up with. Luffy’s flip flops smack behind until they’re as loud as thunderclaps, his grip lacing you in place as he turns you to look at him.

 “Luffy what-“

 “Where are they?” His throat tightens. Had his lack of self control really scared them off? Was Nami right when she told him that his presence would ruin your long awaited special day? You never once asked for anything on the crew. Your only request since joining had been to go to this festival and see your friends so of course Luffy granted that but had he unknowingly damned his promise? His eyes were taut with worry, a frown verging his face.

 Your brain stutters at his seriousness.

 Gosh, he was going to be utterly wrathful if you admit the truth. You take a big breath and it’s obvious Luffy is braced for impact, the news that he was the reason your silly smile was absent from your face but that’s not at all what leaves your mouth.

 “… I think they forgot.” You settle for, not ready nor wanting to admit the entirety of the situation. Your captain blinks once. Then twice. Then you shrug it off and that’s what makes his heart ache and his fists clench.

 “Who could ever forget about you?” His words are pure confusion. He sees your throat bob and your chest heave. Dark brows furrowed, it clicks into place.

 They hadn’t forgotten.

 “Too bad.” He doesn’t let you ruminate, interlocking his fingers with yours and tugging you along in tow. You consider protesting but Luffy has easied into a content skip, settling right back into his cheer. He leads you further and further into the festival until buzzers and the grind of roller coasters bleeds your ears near deaf.

 “Luffy, I want to go back to the ship.” You murmur, plea almost imperceptible underneath the whistles and hollers of the festivities. He doesn’t even nod, just pulling you glued to his side with a huge grin plastered on his face. 

 “Nah, yer stayin’!” He snickers at how your eyes nearly buzz out of your head.

 “Why do I have to be stuck with you?” You blatant, no hint of joking in your voice. Manifesting the soul of a distressed goat he bleeds with offense, rearing his head back and huffing and puffing about how no one ever wants to spend time with him. You were about to go on about how his boredom was just too expensive to satiate until the mere thought frees the very solution previously missing buckling into your nose from the confines of his hat.

 You clap a hand over your nose. Luffy stares as his leather projectile plops to the floor. His wallet.

 “Hey! Found my wallet!” The joy of his found firstfruits wipes the debate straight from the straw-hat’s psyche. You snort, a smile cracking at your lips. 

 “For once.” You retort and he sticks his nose up, a knowing laugh blurting out. 

 “K, fine. Tabs on me!” He declares, raising the leather satchel in perceived triumph. Little did you know there was only a mere 50 dollar bill in its confines.

Luffy tells himself not to worry about it and starts leading you along again, stare moving back and fourth along all the options of fun as you merely shrug at the mention of them. There had to be something that would cheer you up and he’d use the rest of the money on that if it levied the weight off of your shoulders. 

 That’s when he sees it. 

 Pixies of awe resuscitate hope in your eyes, an almost childlike wonder spinning his head to see exactly what you’d had your eyes on. Was it the goldfish game you’d carried on about to Nami as he sat on the head of the Sunny or was it a super tall rollercoaster? He’s thrilled by even the thread of possibility, locking eyes with-

 A carousel. 

 You don’t even have to ask before Luffy is sprinting at the contraption, busting past 2 groups of little kids racing to the ride. He secures a spot for you at the head, waving like a loon, uncaring as he shouts for you to run for it. 

 “Luffy, they’re kids. We should let them go ahead.” You tell him as you apologetically budge past the littles to union with Luffy again.

 “Mm’ nah. Finders keepers!” Oh, right. Luffy was a 21 year old man child himself. The gates veer open and Luffy hurries to the opposite side of the contraption, pointing at a well kept black stallion gild in a bridle of gold. You whisper to him as you catch up, stretching a rubber arm to carry you to his side. “That kids’ got h’s eyes on my hors’..” he says directly into your ear, before he mounts his extravagant steed, pointing to the partner equine beside. You gawk.

 “Hey, thats a kids pony!” Your squeals only send Luffy into a rapture of cackles, machine groaning into motion.You lurch for the safety, seating yourself in the rusted saddle of an ancient pony, tutued in moth eaten pink. You snort, side eyeing your captain whom observes you with not an ounce of pity even when you look up to him utterly rejected. Instead he seems almost delighted to see you throned atop something so… weird.

 “You’re so short.” He eggs on with a little giggle, slapping his thigh as if he is the grandest comedian to grace the grand line until your eyes stop sparkling. Your cheeks are hot with shame and a sadness that rivals your earlier depression comes to light.

 “No, I look stupid.” You counter no remainders of your earlier enthrallment, glowering around as the carousel muses out some outdated song of melancholic violin as if to challenge your earlier miseries.

 “C’mere,” Luffy tuts, refusing you the luxury of choice to pick the latter. His arms take a knowing gander, rubber limbs scooping you from the seat of your malformed ballerina horse to plop you down cozy at the pommel of his own steed. “S’ we look stupid together.” He chimes much too comfortably into the shell of your ear, stomach pressed flat against your back as he flashes you a winning grin. You’d could have called it romantic if his next words didn’t blast your eardrums from the inside out. “Cheese!” You bark out a laugh as he throws up a peace sign to some photographer in the crowd, uncaring that you both are probably violating a million safety rules during your artificial gallop.

 After the ride is over you both get a proper scolding from the staff. “You put everyone in that ride in danger!” You almost retort that the ride itself was a threat to any semblance of society due to the obvious repairs it needed until you notice the silence. You’d thought Luffy would have said that for you but instead hes mumbling out some half baked apology, eyes grazing over the heads of the crowd for target. He’s looking for someone and he’s not going to find them standing here.

 “Sorry, wont happen again sir!” You apologize profusely, whipping your head in the direction that Luffy had disappeared into to find him honed in on something in the distance. “Luffy-” You call, sprinting in the direction of a meat stand you assumed him to be running at but he darts past it without a second thought. Before you can register what exactly is happening Luffy has his arms around a screaming and squirming civilian. “Luffy, what the heck did he do?” But Luffy’s too far away and too focused to hear a word, clueless as to why his target is begging for his life.

 “Why’re ya cryin’? I’m just tryn’a get one of those pictures you’ve got of us s’ all.” Luffy’s words are casual, unbothered and certainly not angry like you and the photographer had assumed. The photographer gawks at the realization and relief returns the color to his cheeks, looking to you of all people to clarify that your friend was indeed not a threat. You nod but a laugh bubbles over and its not because its funny. 

  “Oh, right. Yeah.. I can do that.” As the photographer prints the photo from his camera Luffy pops a look in your direction with a soft ‘hmm?’. You don’t dare tell him that you too had thought Luffy was about to jump the poor guy. The camera juts out a Polaroid and Luffy rips it from the mouth, primal joy blown celestial in the soft crinkle of his nose. He smacks the image around until he can view his bounty. Satisfied, Luffy starts to trod off with a jovial ‘thanks’ forgetting to pay the guy for the trouble.

 That he does as soon you give him a reminding shout. 5 dollars for the photo and another 10 for the emotional distress he’d caused. A steal in Luffy’s opinion as he secures his trophy in the ribbon of his hat, trodding on his merry way as if nothing at all had just happened.

 You snort and fall in step with one another, continuing your venture this time unncaring of exactly what activities commence for now your excitement is a charge, not a distraction and Luffy thanks whatever being knits the universe together for it. Luffy’s mood only halo’s along with yours. His untired chaos is a convincing beam persuading the tear stains to weigh a little lighter and the games you had earlier complained as being rigged to become challenges instead of inconveniences. Now you won’t stop playing any of them until you’ve beaten more than Luffy.

 Thats until amidst your smack talk he realizes that his wallet is empty.

 “10 to 10,” You grumble. “You have advantages anyway because of your haki, i’m sure one more and I’ll whoop your butt.” You nearly plonk over as you sway with newfound tiredness, stride a zig zag that your captain follows subconsciously until you release a gargantuan yawn right into his face. He snickers.

 “M’ out v’ money, sorry.” He relents, observing you for any sign of disappointment but you just hum and straighten up to look his way. He nearly flatlines.

 “My bad, speaking of which, we should get some food in you,” the words are muffled by the bronzing of your irises. They’ve adopted ethereal flame crowning him king in the reflection of your pupils. “Luffy?” You chime as his heart leaps into his throat.

 He could just hear Zoro calling him an oblivious idiot and for once he wouldn’t argue. Couldn’t argue because the sunset had practically just claimed you his queen.

  “Hmm?” He tries to casual before his stomach roars shamelessly. “Oops.” He scratches the back of his neck, cheeks pelting pink when your expression sours with guilt.

 “No problem.” You burrow a hand into your dress and out comes a granola bar. He gawks, heart thundering as you remind him of why he started to like you in the first place: you always had food. “My bad.” You ruffle his hair as he vacuums down nearly both the wrapper and snack as one, making way the opposite of him. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. I’ll grab you a burger.” You mutter, leaving Luffy to processing as you do some of your own by the burger stand.

 There’s a feeling that verges guilt ebbing below the layers of festival dress you adorn, doubling your spending to appease the reminder soiling that turbulent peace that you had abandoned to feed. Luffy didn’t need to spend the day with you. He wasn’t supposed to anyway. You start to question his resolve, mulling over the details to count how many fake smiles he had shot your way.

 The number comes to none as you pay and retrieve 2 meat lovers burgers from the attendant and make your way back to where your captain waits. 

 Where he was supposed to be waiting if he hadn’t decided that being somewhere else was more fun. You nearly drop his food. Nostalgic panic storming the calvary of flesh beneath. 

 Of course he’d left. 

 Tears threaten the floodgates before a boasting shout masters the nausea. You freeze and without a single ounce of warning you’re airborne with a rubber arm blown taut around your waist. Then you’re nose to nose with the missing moron.

 You bark out a sound between a laugh and a sob.

 “You could have told me you were going somewhere else!” Your hands reach to wipe a tear, intercepted by a telling grip.

 “Who made ya cry?” You silence at his intense stare, biting your tongue as to keep your tongue from confessing. His grip loosens and trails to pull your forehead to his. “S’rry. I should h’ve told you.” He mutters, stupid from the lack of forethought about your earlier ghosting. You shove the burger to his mouth. Taking that as a sign of forgiveness, Luffy takes a chomp, hand cupping your cheeks to crank your neck to show you why he’d done it. His munching is drowned out by an amber cast reaching from the horizon to lap up the navy of the coming evening. The pelt of stars was in rival with the fire of the horizon, the island's name ringing blatant for all to see. 

 “Oh my gosh,” now tears threaten for a different reason and its certainly not because you’re upset. “How does it do that?!” You look to Luffy and he grins.

 “Dunno, but its cool, right?” You nod, eyes catching the eternal autumn of this islands maples refracting crystalline against the aurora. You babble on about something to do with cone receptors and rods while Luffy nods in support of your hypothesis until the ferris wheel whines with movement. You lurch for your captain for some illusion of safety. He howls out a laugh and merely grins at your terror. “Are all of the rides on the verge of death here?” You complain as Luffy swallows the remains of his food, scooting you closer to him.

 “S’ okay! I can protect you. Just hold onto me, k?” He snickers, quieting when you give him a soft glare.

  “Why are you making that face?” Your snort does nothing to bay the laughter whispering in your gut as he tries to screw his face back to any ounce of normalcy. 

 “V’ got a surprise for you in a minute. Just you wait-” he hums with a too proud grin as you pale past death.

 “I knew it! You better not toss me out of the ride or do anything crazy or I’ll kill you-” He revels with jest, slapping his knee that only sends the ferris wheel car swinging like a pendulum.. “Luffy-!” Your scolding does nothing to deter his delight, peaking as you hold onto him for dear life. He hums and cocks his head at your undoubtedly nervous giggles.

 Did you seriously think he would do that with precious cargo on board?

 “Oh come on, m’ not that crazy! I’m just gonna confess to you at the top is all!” He soothes, smoothing out a stray hair on your head to calm you but he's only sent you down a pit of overthought scenarios. He however, is innocent as ever, a pillar of calm despite the ebbing worm of anxiety inching your tummy. You’re quiet now but theres this weird look on your face like he’s just told you something he shouldn’t have. “You’re blushing.” Luffy points to your nose pelting red.

 “No friggin duh Luffy!” You face palm and chortle, brain scrambled by his deafness to his own volume. “You just told me that you’re gonna confess. You know that, right?” You inquire and Luffy blinks.

 “Okay?” His lips scrunch up into a pout, rehearsing a well practiced grumble. “I could just confess that Sanji whispered the fridge code out during the night and that's why we keep running low on meat-”

 “Monkey D Luffy!” He explodes with laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth with a wicked mischief brewing behind his eyes.

“You can’t go tellin’ on me or its not’a secret anymore, k?” He leans a breaths length away, eyes lasering into yours. You nod in hesitant agreeance as the machine slows toward the top. His tongue ties itself into knots when you reach your destination. He removes his hand, remembering his purpose when your small port on sunset chugs past the peak, his mouth left open in pure shock. “Hey!” Luffy nearly throws himself out of the cart to search for the attendant below. “Stop the ride! You promised!” The skeleton of the ferris wheel trembles with his uproar, a tirade of desperate demands slipping past his lips as the romantic view slips away.

 “Hey, look at me Luff-” He gives you a look that could kill.

 “No, s’ not fine. He promised t’a wait.” The statement hits you like a projectile brick.

 “You planned this?” Your brows hike, cocking your head. He doesn’t answer

 “Kinda, like 4 minutes’ ago. Thought you’d like it’.”

 “I would but it's not a big deal.” Your assurance does nothing to quell his unspent wrath.

 “Yes it is! I need to tell you!” His certainty is inerrant, voice carrying no compromise as others rise up in protest. Of course he started a rebellion ‘for love’ on the ferris wheel.

 “Do you not believe in love? Let the poor guy tell her how he feels!”  You bite back a laugh as the man below shouts. “Take them to the top so they can kiss!” A group of little girls shriek from the cart above and Luffy joins their hollers. The phrase ‘for love’ trumpets throughout the surrounding area until peer pressure proves effective.

 Finally.

 Cheers surmount the wheel and Luffy tosses a look over his shoulder, gifting you a thumbs up. 

  “See? V’ got it all under control.” He plops backward beside you with a content hum. You sit in stiff stillness while Luffy lounges without a worry. He eyes you over and softly chuckles, poking your thigh. “Ya nervous?” He wagers, scooting a bit closer to you. Your mouth guppies, cheeks alight as you peek at the honeying horizon near blazon with the peak nearing once again. 

  “I don’t know. Isn’t this even a little bit nerve wracking for you?” You honest and Luffy considers the hypothesis.

 “Nah.” he scratches the back of his neck with an easy shrug as if he didn’t just nearly ascend with the mere thought of this not going to plan.

 “What do you mean ‘nah’?” You nearly laugh as his eyebrows swivel and he stares.

 “Whats embarrassing about loving you?” You blank at his words. The ferris wheel eases at its noon and your heart flutters. You tried to think of an answer but the ones that came were less than satisfactory. 

 “I guess you’re.. Right.” You slowly admit, gracing him a teeny smile that makes him suck in his breath. Oh gosh. He fumbles for the proper words, his heart beating like its going to rip out of his chest. “It’s just you.” You murmur to yourself and the reminder is one that permissions him to take the leap.

 It was just you. How embarrassing could it be?

 “I love you more than meat!” His words blurt out like clumsy toddlers off a playground. He’s sweating buckets, bottom lip sucked dry between his teeth yet there is not an ounce of shame on his face. Even if it did pull groans from every bystander it was true and from the heart, undoubtedly Luffy. 

 The man is just about convinced that you brought him up here just to reject him when you break into an unrestrained cackle. 

 “I love you more!” The breath knocks out of him. A startled laugh ripping through the tension in his gut. He pulls you into a bone rearranging hug, burying his nose into the alcove of your neck to breathe in your scent.   

  Then he stops breathing and pulls back. 

 “Liar!” He bawks, pulling back to look at you like you’ve grown two heads. “I love you way way more!” He argues tone sober with conviction. You blink and a cheeky grin cements across your features.

 You still had one order of unfinished business with him.

 “Not enough to kiss me first-” Your mouth doesn’t give him time to even breathe a syllable. You crash into him in a passionate kiss. It's a clumsy dance of inexperience and it doesn’t help that Luffy is laughing in the middle of it but it's sweet and it's yours. You pull back and give him a sly grin. “10 to 10.” He processes a beat before betrayal marrs his features.

 “No fair! A kiss isn’t a carnival game!” Though he bleets with annoyance he's quick to keep you glued to his side, head nosed up onto your shoulder even as he pouts. “You only kissed me for competition…” he whines as you get off the ride.

 “That's not true-” You stop dead at the sound of a low whistle.

 Zoro, smug as a cat thats knocked over a glass of water stands beside the rest of the other strawhats.

 “About time.” Sanji says after a drag from his cigarette.

 “I can’t believe it took all day, Luffy… she was probably so bummed.” Nami complains, referring to you as she shakes her head and motions to two of your own familiar faces. “If Luffy hasn’t told you already, your friends are coming to spend the night.” You turn to Luffy whose brows pop.

 “Luffy,” You say so slowly as his cheeks flush with remembrance.

 “Oh, ya. Forgot t’ tell ya y’r friends came by the ship to surprise you-” a vein pops in your forehead. “S’rry, kind f’ forgot havin’ ya all to myself.” He mumbles with his best innocent look. You gentle just a bit.

 “I forgive you.” Thats a quiet 'shi shi shi' whisps his lips.

 “Good, 11 to 10 then!” 

“Monkey D Luffy!”

[mangekyuou]

★ the new intern portgas d. ace, my beloved.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. afab!reader. ace is from the south idk. takes place in the states for some reason again idk. i was just writing lmaoo. reader wears a skirt. not proofread. hear me out. MINORS DNI.

── intern!ace who has recently started his internship at your company you have only been at for almost a year. mentoring him is somehow pushed onto you despite any of your colleagues being here longer than you and having much more experience in mentoring. you’ve never done this before. you try your absolute damnedest to get out of it but no one seems interested in relieving you of the responsibility. so best of luck to you

── intern!ace who is unlike anything you’ve seen before. why would a rowdy man start an internship at an office where he’d just be behind his desk or in meetings all day?

── intern!ace who never went anywhere without that distractingly bright orange hat.

── intern!ace who has a southern drawl about him, you aren’t surprised to learn he comes from somewhere down south. he has a special way of speaking that you, born and raised up north, struggled with understanding his creative idioms.

── intern!ace who you could always hear before you could see whether it was his loud mouth or the loud clicking of those ostrich skin square toe boots he was so proud of covered by his long trousers. they were louder than your heels.

── intern!ace who has a load of questions and is at your office door every five minutes. you’ve even started to recognize him by his knock. he always greeted you with a wooden toothpick between his plump lips.

── intern!ace who is a very respectful man who cares a lot about honorifics. that’s how he was raised. you are his mentor, his senior. he can’t just call you by your name. what kind of man would he be? you have become, miss.

── intern!ace who is very friendly, very touchy, but sweet as candy. you chalked it up to southern hospitality that you have yet to experience. when you’re explaining something, he stands extra close, he’s almost touching you. when you’re coming in, he jogs in front of you to hold open the door. when you fix the problem he has, he compliments you. he always looks so amazed when in just a few clicks everything is fixed. you’re like his superhero.

── intern!ace who has made it a habit to eat with you. or wait to take his lunch until you’re done. you’re like his only friend in the office and he likes eating with you.

── intern!ace who gets onto you about forgetting your lunch and eating fast food all the time. a woman like you deserves a homecooked meal he’s made it a habit to bring you an extra lunch. he does it so much, he’s even got you your own lunchbox that’s your favorite color.

── intern!ace who doesn’t leave the office until you leave. he could be done for hours but he still wants to walk you to your car to make sure you get there safely. plus what if you get lonely being the only one in the office?

── intern!ace who worries that you overwork yourself only to never be recognized. he’s only been here a month and a half and he’s already noticed it. he is always ready to remind you that you’re too good for this job and that they don’t deserve you or your time.

── intern!ace who looks a little different. dressed in a tight white button-down that looked like he was going to pop out of any second. were his arms always that big? was his chest always that broad? what did he look like without the shirt on? was he hiding more freckles under there?

── intern!ace who isn’t a fool. he may have been born at night but it damn sure wasn’t last night. he sees how you’re eyeballing him, undressing him with your eyes. he’s flattered. he’s always thought you were a beauty too, pretty as a peach, hotter than a fire in july.

── intern!ace who once again doesn’t leave with everyone else, he stays to keep you company. though this time he is bold enough to stay with you in your office until you’re ready to go. he’s distracting you with his presence alone. how are you supposed to finish when he’s sitting there with the top buttons of his shirt undone because it’s a little warm in here? he sprawled out on the chair, his legs open and his hat resting over his face because he wanted to 'rest his eyes'. you never noticed how built he was…how nice and lonely his lap looked. maybe it was kinda warm in here.

── intern!ace who hears you shuffle in your seat and hears you call out to him. he sits back up, taking his hat off of your face. you ask for his help, something you’ve never done before. he’s honored. he steps behind your desk to see the problem, to see exactly what you’re stuck on. it’s something simple, something you’ve helped him with before. why were you struggling now? maybe you wanted to test his knowledge, maybe you wanted to have him closer.

── intern!ace who stands behind your chair, reaching over the side of you to grab the mouse while his other strong hand rests on the back of your chair. you take on his warm, heavenly scent. it was intoxicating, you could hardly focus, and you hadn't heard a word he uttered.

── intern!ace who must come even closer, to actually finish your report so he can use the keyboard. he is particularly towering over you as he types so slowly. the tension in the room was so high. you cross your legs making your skirt ride up your thighs a little. with your eyes stuck on your monitor, you fail to watch him bite down on his lip.

── intern!ace who steps back to let you send your report to the boss before spinning your chair around to face him. there is one more work-related question he needs to ask you before you go home for the night.

── intern!ace who is a liar. it’s not work-related at all. he just wanted to be dramatic.

── “can i kiss you? i’ve been wanting to for a while now. it’s been killing me not to”

── intern!ace who barely lets the word yes fade into the air before he’s captured your lips on his in a passionate kiss. he kissed you like a desperate man, like a man who has waited god knows how long.

── intern!ace whose hands fiddle with your top, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal your bra and remove the tie you wore to work today.

── “i love me a businesswoman in a tie. you’re the boss here tonight, miss”

── intern!ace who wants you to take the reins, to take charge, to take what you want from him tonight. anything you wanted you could have.

── intern!ace who followed your every command with “yes ma’am” that sent shivers down your spine.

── intern!ace who finds his face place to be is in between your legs, with your tie tied tightly around his wrists behind his back. your fingers locked into his hair as you pushed him as far as he could go into your sopping wet cunt that has already drenched the lower half of his face.

── “like this, miss?”

── intern!ace with a praise kink. he loves hearing you tell him how good he’s treating you. looking up at you through hooded eyes as he waits for your praise. it sends chills down his spine and makes his cock twitch and leak in his pants.

── intern!ace who doesn’t know how you got even hotter with his hat on top of your head, your face contorted in pleasure, your shirt unbuttoned and your little skirt pulled up to your waist. it was a picture that was never going to leave his mind. from now on, you had to wear his hat more often.

── intern!ace who has an oral fixation. he’s attached his plump lips to your throbbing bundle of nerves yet again like a starved man with his eyes closed in delight. he moaned and hummed against you. he loved how your body trembled underneath his tongue as you came for him yet again. he lapped up all of your juices without fail like you were his favorite meal.

── intern!ace who whines when you pull him off your cunt.

── intern!ace who loves it when you take ownership over him. he’s your intern. he's your boy. he’s your baby, only yours and he’ll do whatever it takes to please you. he wants to hear you say it. he needs to hear you say it when he’s got you over your desk, balls deep into your pussy, fucking you like he’s in heat as you hold onto your tie that’s wrapped around his neck. say he’s your baby when he’s fucking this rough, this deep. say you own all of him, as his balls slap against your tight, creamy cunt.

── intern!ace who only cums after you because your pleasure is first. he only cums when you tell him to. he needs to kiss you when he does, emptying his load deep into your pussy, something he wasn’t supposed to do. he lets you pull on the tie one more time for good measure since he couldn’t behave.

── intern!ace whose oral fixation comes back to bite you in the ass when he’s already back on his knees to lap up all of his cum out of your sensitive cunt.

MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

⚙️ Steddie Big Bang 2024: Project Reveal ⚙️

I am stoked to reveal my project for the @steddiebang2024 - an action-filled, steampunk-inspired Steddie adventure. I'll be collaborating with the amazingly talented @cuips-not-cute on this one, and I can't wait to see what they'll create! 😍✨️

Summary and snippet under the cut

⚙️ Excerpt

“Look,” he finally says. “We've been over this. The doctors said it's perfectly normal. ‘s called phantom limb or whatever the fuck. Can take years to go away, sometimes never does. It's fine.”

Gareth shuffles unhappily. “Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” Eddie insists. “I appreciate your concern, Gare, I really do. But to be perfectly honest with you, I’d rather hack off another limb than go anywhere near those shallow, sanctimonious, rich assholes ever again, so they can take that money and shove it right up their-”

“Eddie, shut up, for fuck’s sake!”

Gareth's voice cracks around the last syllable and Eddie trails off with an irritated groan.

“What? Why?”

“Just-” Now that he thinks about it, Gareth is sounding weirdly nervous. Eddie frowns at the wrench in his hand. “There’s, um …”

“No, by all means,” says a new voice. “Let him continue. He hasn’t said exactly where to shove that money yet.”

Eddie shoots out from under the transporter and nearly crashes into a pair of legs.

“What the fuck?” he blurts, slamming his feet down in a desperate attempt to brake. His right leg creaks and the metal foot scrapes over the floor with a harsh, grating sound. Eddie thinks he sees sparks, briefly. “Hey, look where you’re-”

There’s a guy staring down at him. A guy in an embroidered waistcoat with tails so long they nearly brush the shafts of his shiny leather boots. He's leaning on a carved walking stick, raising an elegant eyebrow from under a swoop of shiny, chestnut hair. Eddie decides then and there that he hates that douchebag.

“Where I’m going?” Douchebag finishes his sentence. “I was just standing here. Maybe you should-”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie sneers, finally remembering to sit up and push his goggles back. The movement leaves a black smudge of oil on his forehead, wet and sticky. “It’s still my damn shop, good sir, so excuse the fuck outta me if I don’t go out of my way to kiss your-”

“You’re Edward Munson then?” another voice pipes in. “Of Munson’s Machinery? You own this place?”

Eddie blinks. A girl is peering over Douchebag’s shoulder. She reminds him a bit of one of those tall monster birds with the long necks he saw at the zoo once - all gangly limbs and jerky movements and nervous eyes. Ostriches? Yeah, he thinks that's what they're called.

“Eddie is fine,” he says automatically, then remembers he's still mad at the both of them. “I mean … what's it to you?”

Douchebag huffs a sound that might pass as a laugh, if only his face matched the noise.

“Nevermind,” he murmurs and turns to go, making to put his preposterous top hat back on. “This was a stupid idea anyhow.”

“Steve?” The girl latches on to his arm and yanks him back. Douchebag makes an annoyed, whiny sound and Eddie can feel his own mouth twitching into a grin. “Be nice?”

While Douchebag pouts and grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, she turns to Eddie with a strained smile.

“Sorry about him,” she says, fingers awkwardly tugging on the dispensers of her billowy pants. “We talked about this before coming here, or at least I thought we did, only right now I'm honestly wondering if we had the same discussion, because you're sort of our last chance, so it would really befit us to treat you with some basic-”

“For fuck’s sake, Robin,” Douchebag blurts. His hand flies up like he’s trying to scrub it down his face, or pinch his nose maybe - one of those theatrical, overdone gestures of long-suffering exasperation - just that he’s still holding the stupid hat and almost whacks himself in the forehead with it. “Just go ahead and tell him everything, why don't you? That'll do wonders for our negotiation position, I'm sure.”

“Excuse me, what position?” asks the girl. She throws up her hands, so suddenly that her dispensers twang with it, and Douchebag flinches. Eddie’s starting to like her more and more. “And I'm asking that in all honesty, dingus. This place is the only option we have left. Our position isn't just shitty, it's literally non-existent. There is no position, Steve. So you can either try again and behave like a decent human being or we can just go home and forget about the whole-”

“Ugh, alright,” Douchebag snaps. “I'll do it, I'll do it.”

He shoves himself past the girl and her shit-eating grin so that he can glare down his nose at Eddie. Eddie, who is still crouched on the ground, glares right back, head tipped into his neck.

“I, um-” mutters Gareth, shuffling off the workbench and gathering his half-finished breakfast. “I'll just … I’ll come back later, I guess. See ya, Eddie.”

Eddie makes a vague sound of acknowledgement as he bustles out, but doesn’t bother breaking his staring contest.

“So, Mr. Munson,” Douchebag drawls after a second or two. “Would you be interested in a job offer? I heard you’re one of the best mechanics on this side of town.”

[atiny-for-life]

Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - BONUS

Masterlist

WORK

Based on the GOLDEN HOUR Intro which was released prior to the first teasers and is all about Atiny and Ateez's journey thus far, plus the lack of storyline queues in the music video itself, I believe this is one of those instances where the MV simply falls outside the storyline, much like Turbulence and The Real

I believe this time, it's because they were invited to Coachella and simply didn't have as much time to prepare for the album and get access to the sets they'd need to tell the story visually the way they wanted to which is something I talked about more here

However, let's still dive in and dig up some easter eggs and other fun little moments strewn throughout the video so we can appreciate it better!

Kicking things off is "maknae on top" Jongho buried in the dirt, playing the flute (which sounds like a clarinet) while the others stand around him, four out of seven holding spades and shovels

And it's not just that they felt justified in burying him with extra holes for his hands so he could play the flute, they also felt the need to do it right outside a motel in the middle of the desert

Giving the meaning of this album, this starting from a dirt-hole in the dessert setting could be a reference to Pirate King and Treasure which were both shot in the dessert way back when

If that's the case, it'd also make the red car more meaningful since Yunho also had one during Wave

From here, we move on to a roadside diner/shack situation where our boys are working the counter, preparing counterfeit money burgers

Inside, we can see a bunch of Ateez's awards (bragging rights), including a MAMA award, the Billboard #1 plaque and more, with TYUdeongi and Mito (the two little plushs) front and center

Next up, we've got Seonghwa rolling into town on an ostrich, carrying the flags of some of the countries they visited during last year's world tour while Yunho, San, and Yeosang are counting their money and drinking around a table outside the motel

The next clips show us Yunho reading a burning newspaper with the headline proclaiming something along the lines of "Anonymous Philanthropists Change [...]", likely referencing all the money they've been handing out at their diner

The scene is accompanied by the lyrics "Breaking News popping up no matter where I go" which is very reminiscent of 'Matz'

Wooyoung's vibing outside with a Mariachi band and Flamenco dancers (don't ask me why... I guess they're having a Latin American phase right now - let's see if they end up fluent in Spanish or Portuguese some time soon)

Up in the mountains, we've got them mining for gold far away from any visible mining shafts, and singing about geese laying golden eggs in Spanish (giving Aesop's Fable), followed by a line about building towers 24/7 in Korean (giving Billionaires' Row in Manhattan) before San eats the gold nugget he'd been holding (the effects of eating gold are not well studied, please do not attempt at home)

Next, we've got Yeosang cutting out counterfeit money with a large pair of scissors (we're already struggling with inflation, put those scissors down) while singing about being an introvert

He's in the same office Yunho was in earlier when he was reading the burning newspaper (I'm glad the place didn't burn down)

Moving on, we've got Mingi in the parking lot dressed very Willy Wonka-esque (Gene Wilder version)

He's sporting two pins on his coat - one which looks like a painter's palette and the other looking like a cross, somewhat reminiscent of the Maltese Cross (shoutout to Malta, I feel like no one ever talks about you) or the Iron Cross (popular in early 20th century Prussia)

Everyone's partying, it's raining counterfeit money, we've got car hydraulics in the back (it's been 70 years, I didn't think these were still popular) and our Flamenco dancers are back before we cut to Jongho in his hole, and back to Seonghwa on his ostrich which is now joined by some very talented, head bobbing, CGI chickens

Moving on, we find Hongjoong dancing in another parking lot, surrounded by his members and some strangers on golden bikes, all wearing sunglasses

In the lyrics, he's referencing The Real which strongly matches the vibe they're going for in this sequence, both in terms of costumes and with the general setting

Within the same rap verse, we also see Hongjoong in first parking lot where Wonka-Mingi was kicking off the party earlier

Here, he's dancing with two kids in costume (a chicken and a wrestler), while looking super delighted, just all around happy to be here, much like the guy on the bike we can see in the back (it's very wholesome)

We briefly cut away to a shot of a lone massive golden egg stranded on a deserted hill surrounded by some dry shrubs. Keep it in mind. We'll come back to it later.

Back in the office, Yeosang's happy with his robot chicken (Brian) which seems to be capable of laying golden eggs, going by the tall stack of them presented on his desk

While Yeosang's hogging the office, Yunho's off in some basement, taking the term "money laundering" far too literally as he pulls a stack of bills from a washing machine

Seonghwa, once again on his ostrich, now enters a gas station where Wooyoung fills up the bird by inputting a fuel pump in its side. We can now definitively confirm that this alternate universe is weird as hell.

Moving on to a miniature city, we've got our two main rappers attacking a money-monster with some ray guns ( because, on this ship, we're anti-capitalism)

They're wearing fur coats to match the lyrics, which may also be a throwback to Say My Name

Returning to the diner, we've got Jongho building a money burger abomination with some added CDs because, clearly, that's his favorite breakfast

And over in the kitchen, we've got head chef Hongjoong cooking up some hellfire concoction which is literally on fire but he doesn't care - he's still just making a noot-noot face and giving us a straightforward reference to Bouncy by cutting in some more green chili peppers

Honorable mention to Mingi's GTA reference

From there, we get some shots of Ateez gathered around the camera (Don't Stop End Credits style), a short scene of Seonghwa in the hydraulic car, many people's favorite clip of half-topless San twisting a valve or something near some desert oil rigs, and more, before we finally move on to Jongho in front of a food truck

The truck seems to go hand-in-hand with Ateez's roadside dinner since it also offers their famed money burgers

Next, we've got Yunho and Yeosang carefully watching an extra large golden egg in their office

After a few more super quick scenes flash by, it begins to crack before we return to the lone massive golden egg in the desert we saw earlier which now busts open and out pops Seonghwa

There are some Korean folktales about men being born from eggs, all of them rulers which were used to keep the myth alive that kings were picked by a higher power, not born the conventional way - I assume that's what's being referenced here

[bellaofthevalley]

Pomefiore: Family Ties

i love my delusions lmao ne ways this is also another cutesy platonic one ig? def not yan or romantic but for content warnings: abandonment, surgery but it's not detailed at all dw and that's about it me thinks. reader is described using she/her. truthfully speaking this was written for a friend but for them we just usually use Darling instead of y/n, but i changed it to [name] here lol. ne ways ENJOY

Eric Schoenheit is merely walking back home from work when his life is forever changed.

During his whole life, Eric has been many things; a son, a friend, a student, a graduate and then the owner of his own successful business. But if he was asked him which title is he the proudest of, he'd pause for a few seconds, and then smile fondly. 

Eric Schoenheit’s proudest title is that he is a father. 

And being a father, one that dearly loves his son, Vil, is the very reason he pauses his steps halfway home. It's late at night, heavy snow blanketing the empty streets as everyone remains in the warmth of their home to prepare for their winter breaks, and that's when he hears the cries. 

Heartbreaking, weak, childish cries and sobs echo through the street, coming from between two abandoned buildings. He shouldn't check, he should simply inform the police… 

But he is a father now, and those sobs strike a chord deep within him. 

Many years later, he'll still pat himself on the back for going into that alleyway. 

Because if he had not gone inside, how else would he have found his second child, his sweet daughter, his dear [Name]? 

+++

What Eric finds first, is an egg. 

The egg is bigger than an ostrich egg, and it's also in shades of what could have once been pink and white, but now it was too dirty for him to be fully sure of its colour. The egg was also cracked- 

And there was a baby held within the broken shells, the one causing the cries. Eric’s eyes had widened upon seeing her, quickly kneeling down with his hands hovering over the egg. “Oh- oh dear-” he mumbles in frantic worry, unsure what he should do. This was a fae child, but… 

No chance for him to overthink it, because the baby heard him and was now reaching her skinny, emaciated little hands up towards him, her cries desperate and weak. 

Eric did not stop to think, to look closer to see if she was injured or- or if he could try to see what type of fae she at least might be. All his mind could focus on was her cries, and that she was alone and too thin, far too thin and light and he needs to get her to a hospital- 

She was gnawing on his clothes. Desperately, hungrily, gnawing on his clothes and sputtering on her cries as she realizes that there's no food. Two, strange… things keep poking Eric’s chin, but he doesn't give them much thought for now because he's too busy wrapping the little baby within his coat, shushing her softly. 

“We'll go to a hospital now, sweetie,” he mumbles to her, beginning to walk much, much faster after ensuring she's covered. She's back to gnawing on his clothes despite knowing it's not food, and his heart aches for her. “And you'll feel much better. I promise.” 

+++ 

Eric truly feels as if his life has been upturned in the last few days. 

The little baby- the little girl he had found is apparently a dragon fae, and that, by itself, was already a big shock. And then he is told, while watching her be hooked to several machines with nurses attempting to calm her because he wasn't allowed to be in the room at that moment, that she isn't a baby- an infant. She's barely a toddler, almost the same age as his own son who is being watched by his trusted nanny. 

From what Eric had understood, she had severe growth issues. Dragon eggs only hatch from the love and care of their parents, but she was all alone for at least long enough that her body forced her to grow- and grow twisted horns in a desperate, last attempt to break out of the egg and call out for anyone to help her. The same twisted horns that they'll have to do reconstruction surgery on to avoid any problems in the future for her. 

It was too soon for him to consider it, but… Eric thought that Vil perhaps would not mind a sibling, a little sister. But he wouldn't rush; if Vil really, truly didn't want to, Eric would simply ensure child protection services and the hospital would take good care of the little girl. 

In a few days, if no one comes forward about her, he'll bring Vil to meet her. He hopes it'll go well, but for now… 

“You may enter now, Mr. Schoenheit.” the nurse tells him, and he is quick to step inside, immediately coming close to the little girl.

She looks even smaller now; most of her body has been wrapped in a warm blanket, and the rest was only bare for the many needles and IVs hooked onto her. But she was also asleep, her fingers twitching slightly when Eric held her tiny little hand. 

“Tell me everything.” he demands, voice quiet as to not disturb the little girl’s rest. Even if she may not join their little family… he'll take care of her for now. 

+++

“No, no!” little Vil pouts, shaking his head and a little furrow to his brows. “Not like this!” 

Eric watches the scene with a small, amused smile, not saying anything yet. 

His sweet daughter, [Name], also pouts. “But how?” she whines, stomping her foot. He's glad to see her slowly return to her liveliness; her horn reconstruction surgery had not been easy, and he knows she'd been stressing about how they'll look once they can take the bandages off, whether they'll match her tail or not. 

The doctors had told him dragons were naturally on the prouder and vain side. This also applied to his daughter, even if she may not ever reach a particularly imposing height for dragons. 

Regardless, Eric loves her all the same. Not once during these years has he regretted adopting her, and he knows Vil absolutely adores her and loves having a sister he can play and act with- even if she doesn't want to be famous like he does. 

“Here, hold this.” Vil says, pushing her favourite plushie into her arms so she can hold it. She's immediately smiling, her milky white tail and pink spikes at the end of her tail swishing behind her, and hugs her plushie warmly. Vil also beams, proud of himself. “Perfect! Papa, take our picture now!” 

Eric chuckles, bending down and holding the camera at the right angle. “As you wish…. And there you go.” 

Quickly, both Darling and Vil rush towards him to look at the pictures. [Name] makes an ooh’ing sound, while Vil only smiles. 

“Can we hang this one in my room, please papa?” she asks sweetly, not letting her plushie go. But her other hand is intertwined with Vil’s, always finding comfort in her brother. “I like it.” 

“Do you, now?” he chuckles, gently cupping her cheek rather than patting her head like he would've usually done. “We'll pick a frame and then we'll print the pictures out, alright?” 

“I want this printed, too!” Vil decides, smiling at the forehead kiss he gets. “I'll… add it to my albums, though. I don't want to hang it.” 

“That's alright.” Eric nods his head, and then reaches to pick both of them into his arms. It makes them squeal and laugh, and gets a chuckle out of him as well. “How about we get some ice cream before Vil's audition?” And before Vil can lecture him on the over consumption of sweets with [Name] backing her brother up despite her own love for the treat, Eric clarifies more. “The healthy kind of ice cream we have, not the ones in the shops.”

And just like that, both of his children are eagerly nodding their heads. 

“I'll hold it for you!” [Name] promises Vil when they're at the audition hall. His hands are clammy, despite him constantly wiping them with clean tissues offered by his father. That's why she is offering to hold his ice cream cup for him, her plushie forgotten in the face of helping her brother. She'd even forgone her shyness in crowds and isn't hiding behind Vil or Eric like she'd usually do. 

He's done many auditions before, but this one… this one is the most important for him. He's happy his sister and father are with him, for this moment. 

Eric bends down, gently squeezing Vil’s shoulders. “Breathe with me, champ. You got this, alright? [Name] and I will be here for you regardless of what happens, I promise.” 

“Y- yeah!” [Name] can't help but stutter, her tail curling around herself because some of the staff were looking at them. But she has to do this, for her brother Vil. She reaches her hands out for him, squeezing him in a hug. “We'll always be here for you, brother.” 

And Vil… Vil does not hesitate a single second before he is hugging her back, soothed so much. Their father's arms wrap around them both, pulling them into his embrace. “...Love you, sister.” 

He does not think it, but a part of him knows that this moment will remain in his memory forever. 

+++

“You look pretty.” Vil reassures his sister, gently tugging on the hood of her custom ceremonial robes. He can sense her nervousness simply by seeing that she's hidden her tail and her nails are tapping her own stomach. “You'll be fine, sister. I'm right here with you. We're both going to get sorted together. ” 

His sister nods, aiming to give him a confident smile. He isn't lying; she truly looks pretty, her makeup simple but enhancing her, and her beloved horns gleaming. They were also milky white, with a pink gradient at the tip that paled as it came down to the base. What was special about them were the golden-filled lines from the surgery, gleaming prettily and a source of pride for her. 

She’d pulled herself free from her egg, and her horns were proof of that. 

Her face falls as more people slowly enter the hall, preparing for the sorting ceremony. Her hands quickly latch onto his sleeves, eyes nervously shifting. “Vil…” 

His face softens, and he pulls her into a hug, her face buried in his chest. Though he does shoot a glare at some of the freshmen that stare a little too long. “Deep breaths, [Name]. Don't stress, your big brother is here.”

She nods her head shakily, shudders going through her. There are too many scents, too much talking and murmuring, but Vil's embrace muffles it all. She feels so wholly protected, one of her favourite feelings in the whole world. 

“Always?” she asks, just to be sure. Her voice wavers, and her eyes are pleading. 

Vil smiles, and kisses her forehead. “Always.”

Masterpost

[multi-level-shipper]

This shit was a fucking acid trip, like most of the game.

Anyway, something that poked my brain was the Infirmary. For all this game's insanity, there were actually some decent roots planted for worldbuilding/ character development.

It seems like the reason the cast ended up in Queen Bouncelia's domain is because they're treating the player as if they have 6 stars in GTA. Seline is no exception to this rule, and that seems to be her motivation for coming down to the lower floor, as she watched us leave in Chapter 3.

Toadster noted in his "Archives" that she was already hiding when brought in, and crying in her shell. She may have been antagonized by a bigger enemy- likely Kittysaurus or Tama/Chamataki (turtle chameleon thing), and she may have gone past the kingdom's walls for sanctuary. (That's just a loose theory, though.)

In any case, at some point she was frightened enough to shut down completely.

This could be some kind of anxiety attack, though there's no way to "diagnose" Seline at this point. Also interesting that Seline felt too afraid to even continue moving around on the lower floors. I think this is meant to speak to just how dangerous the lower floors are- if the giant ass snail is afraid, you should be, too.

Next, Jumbo Josh. Toadster categorizes him as a "Green Gorilla", which in hindsight, weirdly makes a lot of sense.

Firstly, an adult silverback gorilla can bench up to 4,000 lbs (or at least, that's what google told me.) Not that we needed an explanation of why he was able to throw Stinger Flynn, but I can only assume that if we adjusted that number for his size...it probably checks out.

Second, the fact that he walks like a chiropractor's worst nightmare. It took me a second, but I FINALLY realized that his posture is meant to IMITATE A GORILLA. Like, look at this:

DEFINITELY EXPLAINS WHY HE WALKS LIKE A HORSE IN GARRY'S MOD.

And thirdly, Josh's love for vegetables is also a gorilla trait. 85% of a gorilla's diet is leafy greens, with the remaining percentage basically amounting to termites and larvae.

Not too much to say about the Fucked Up Birds, but still! Nice to see them finally displaying a flamingo behavior (AKA their sleeping posture) because they seemed to lean more heavily on ostrich behaviors in previous chapters.

Toadster mentions in his archive for "The Teacher" that she keeps repeating the phrase "I can't be late" over and over to herself after being subdued.

He also notes that the bowling pins "calmed her down," which may not entirely be the case. In Chapter 3, in Banbaleena's "Classroom", each object had an assigned role like Cool Kid and Popular Kid. The bowling pins were meant to be the Bullies.

So Banbaleena is likely stuck in a prison of her own self-doubts right about now, which is doubly sad when considering her insistence in Chapter 3 that she was actually trying to be a good teacher. Either someone placed this idea in her head that she needs to strictly adhere to all these rules, or it's a stress she placed upon herself trying to fulfill her identity as a teacher.

Stinger Flynn gets better as the story progresses. He seems to have an ego to the point where he sees himself as a savior that can't see the faults in his own plans. His initial "safest procedures" plan seemed so obvious to him, but it seems as if he measures success by efficiency rather than the cost of human lives. While he's smart, he's not immune to being wrong, though he has yet to learn this.

He also seems to suffer from some form of depression, or at least intense sadness, and we see this as he talks to Banban in the latest hallucination sequence. Makes sense- his intelligence would make him much more privy to all the horrible things happening around him. It seems as if his high intelligence comes at a high price.

Last note- This might just be a case of recycling animations/rigs, but I think it's cute that Banban shares nearly the same emo pose as Banbaleena.

[hiroshiii13]

A Little Sweetness

"Ow!" Shang Qinghua was having the worst day. His tooth ached and a dentist appointment confirmed that he had to get a dental filling for a tooth. 

Besides the heartache he felt after paying an exorbitant fee, he felt a dull ache from all the scraping he had to endure at the dentist's. Qinghua shuddered as he remembered the ordeal. 

Mobei pushed his cheeks together, the warm palms squeezing the plush flesh. “Are you still eating too much sweets?”

“No I’m not!!” QH protested as much as he could— which isn’t much, as MBJ continued to squeeze his cheeks like his personal stress ball. 

Squish

Squish

“Okay, okay, if QH says so, but maybe I should still see for myself.” MBJ looked at him teasingly, with a mischievous look in his eye,

“just to be sure.”

—

Mbj began his earnest pursuit. Kissing at his jaw, down to his chin, slowly making his way towards his lips and closed the distance between them.

Qinghua covered his lips with his hands, his face starting to have a tinge of pink, seemingly baked by the warmth of the sun.

“Will Qinghua let me in hmm?” MBJ smiled, coaxing the hand that blocked his lips with kisses, wearing down his defenses with all that urging.

But QH was sensitive!! Not even in a sexy-breed-me way but in a-my-teeth-still-hurt-from-being-scraped-and-filled-in kind of way. 😩 

“No!” QH pouted, a blush steadily climbing up his skin which only made MBJ want to tease him even more. So childish yet lovable all the same, he thought. 

Mobei Jun took that opportunity to trap Qinghua's arms, as he kissed more fervently. A hunger building up from the pit of his stomach as he slowly left gentle bites; a pleading in the guise of tugging on QH’s lips. 

“Are you sure?” MBJ smiled knowingly. 

Qinghua's eyes darted down, he couldn't look at Mobei jun or his resolve would crumble down.

And crumble down, it did.

It didn’t take long until MBJ was sucking on his tongue while rubbing his hands across QH’s lower back.

Qinghua could feel himself stir, it didn't help that Mobei Jun's hands already knew which buttons of his to press. He was already feeling lightheaded when MBJ felt his way towards his inner thigh. He was at his limit!! He gasped for much needed air, breaking the kiss, much to both of their disappointment.

"I thought you’ve been cutting back on sugar, so why do you taste so sweet?" MBJ whispered in his ear.

Qinghua groaned and forcefully put his head on MBJ’s shoulder. He wanted to bang his head on the wall. THAT WAS TOO CORNY!!!

He should’ve cringed but for some reason it went straight to his heart instead. He's so frustrating! He squeezed MBJ into a tight hug and bit his shoulder to vent.

"N-no, that should be wrong. I told you I was cutting back. Why would I need sweets, when I have you?" FUCK. FUCK. HE WAS WORSE FOR PLAYING INTO IT.

He wanted to stay on the crook of MBJ's neck like an ostrich hiding but MBJ’s shoulders started to shake from holding back a laugh. QH was about to get defensively angry, but was suddenly stopped with a light kiss on his forehead. 

"What do you want to eat? I’ll make you what you want."

Ah, forget it. He loved this man too much to care anymore.

[END]

Everyone else trying to ignore them at the dentist’s: 🧍🧍🧍

I’m kidding, they're at home, I just wanted them to be so in love its insufferable. 

[fizzingwizard]

Why I like Cats (the musical) 2024 version

Cats the Musical's smash success in the 80s stunned everyone, including those who made it. But despite the critics claiming it's baffling and has no plot, it was popular anyway. And remained popular. For years.

"But why?" shriek the naysayers even now, decades later, in broad daylight, because they've never met a real Cats fan, and frankly don't believe they exist, and the massive audiences of yore which attended the shows in London, New York, Tokyo etc were paid actors contributing to the farce that is Cats the Musical. Or maybe they assume every furry dutifully attends every performance of Cats as some kind of furry confirmation ritual.

Now that we've seen the Hooperian nightmare that is Cats 2019, internationally recognized as a pre-pandemic harbinger of doom and torment, making fun of Cats is more fun than ever.

But no pedantic Youtube critic will ever pry Cats (THE MUSICAL) out of my fierce, feline clutches! No! I won't let you! Not even you, Tom Hooper! You don't need opposable thumbs to be irrationally devoted to old-ass musicals from the 80s!

Anyway here's why I like Cats (the musical)!

Wicked whimsical fun times!!

Cats is the fun uncle at the family New Year's party. He's young, he's confusingly hot-yet-not, he gets around, he always smells faintly of weed. He's down for anything and somehow gives off chill vibes while also exuding the barely restrained energy of an ostrich mating dance. He doesn't have a job. No one knows what he does on a regular, non-party day. Maybe he just... ceases to exist. You like him, without knowing or caring whether there's anything about him to like.

A celebration of dance!!

Tap, jazz modern ballet, gymnastics! There's even a trapeze! Cats has it all... as long as it was popular among white audiences in the 80s, anyway. Attempts to diversify have been hit and miss. But since many of the dance styles have fallen out of popularity, it's refreshing, in a way, to go to a Cats show and see a guy in an orange unitard tap dancing passionately. Like teleporting into a bygone age of the catpeople. Heck, even in the clusterfuck that was the 2019 movie, Skimbleshanks stole the show.

Jokes aside, the loose story structure isn't just because no one on staff knew how to plot anything, it highlights the performances themselves: dance and music are central to Cats, which is part of why making a film version is so damn hard. You can't just say no thanks to the choreography or interrupt the songs for dumb bratty quips (Hooper!!). That's what this musical is.

Yes, they are cats, and it's cool, not freaky. (But also freaky)

The costumes and makeup are for a stage show. They're overdone on purpose to have an impact from far away. It's due to that distance that the actors can seem pleasantly cat-like without appearing like they're doing this under hypnosis. That's another reason why translating Cats to a live action movie is kinda doomed to fail. With movies you're too up close. Welcome to the Uncanny Valley, hope you survive your stay!

The costumes are also very 80s. They have changed... but not all that much. If you know glam metal and punk rock then you probably cotton on to the references and why a lot of the old pictures look like a hair band's photo shoots. Young fans may not be aware of those roots and just accept the wigs and the color schemes and the setting as a whim. But the truth is undeniable. The 80s live on!

Much of the dance is choreographed to reflect feline, seemless movement. The actors spend their down time on stage mimicking relaxed cat behaviors, including the cute and clumsy ones that made Youtube rich. But they don't forget that they are actually humans any more than the audience does, or that getting too into it would be pretty weird. How well it works for you probably has a lot to do with whether or not you like Cats the musical. It's not supposed to be realistic or freaky. Just evocative and atmospheric.

Except the orgy. That simply Is. Sex through ballet. In unitards.

The stage!

The stage is a huge draw for seeing Cats live. There's so much detail and fun things to spot. It's a junkyard! Cats pop out of the strangest places! Honestly it's so impressive that it makes the way Old Deut magically reappears under a blanket rather more noticeably lackluster... (I did really enjoy the way the Broadway revival revamped that bit with the dark and the hand-held light dance)

You've seen it once, you've seen it twice, you still haven't seen it

The legend of Cats is that no two performances are the same. You can go to the same theater with the same cast night after night and spot subtle changes. Because the characters aren't that important overall, there aren't real relationships to interrupt by letting someone be friends with someone else in one show, and ignore each other in another. The most fun comes with watching the actors not currently center stage, who can do whatever they want. They're always moving, darting here and there, interacting with each other in an unobstrusive way. It's like a treasure hunt to work out whch cats are friends, which are rivals, who has a crush on who, heck, who's a grown cat and who's still a kitten, depending on the performance. I love this pliable approach, it gives the play a sense of living and changing.

Electric guitar!!!

Like, it's par for the course these days. Nothing unusual. Even so, I always lose my shit at that electric guitar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There IS a story!! There is!!

It's just not the most important part. Or even the second most important. Possibly not even the third most... yeah.

One thing worth noting is that the vibe of the musical has changed a lot of over the years. Most versions in the US and UK still retain some of the original grungy, gritty, patchwork aesthetic. A lot of it has been cleaned up and polished. The Japanese version (the only non-English version I've seen live) is almost like a Disney story imo. But thanks to the costumes, characters, and stage setting, it feels less like the 80s have gone than the 80s have been reinterpreted into modern preferences. I really enjoyed the 2016 Broadway revival for example, although I know some fans didn't.

All that to say the story which we fans have more or less pieced together ourselves has evolved over the years, and isn't super official. But it is regular. Hooper's movie doesn't get credit for giving Cats a plot, it already had one, just told in a not especially coherent way. That incoherence, despite being panned by everyone and especially their dog, I think is one of the best parts of Cats. You get to leave the show feeling like you missed nothing, then see it again and notice something new, and then leave feeling like you missed nothing. Rinse and repeat. The perfect show =)

Now about that plot.

The Jellicle Cats assemble once a year to have an orgy a ball. They're so happy to see each other and they just have so much to catch up, plus the kittens only opened their eyes like last week so they need a whole run-down of who all these older guys are. We meet the maternal cat, the storyteller cat, the railway cat, the twin thief cats, the excitable cat, the magical cat, the Jagger cat. They're all kind of sort of in competition to win a new life (cats have nine you know) by being chosen to go to the Heavyside Layer. Not that they compete - they all just want, vaguely, with a sort of existential soul-deep yearning for something too ineffable to define. This contrast of the transient with the permanent, the fleeting with the eternal, is introduced early in the show, when the cats tell us they have two names: a name they're called by on a daily basis, and a secret name that is wholly and uniquely their own. These themes continue throughout scenes of the actors grooming each other's fur and panting in bisexual lust due to sexy Tugger's sexy hip thrusts. It's deep bro. Gets me right here, bro.

Meanwhile there's an outcast called Macavity who is Bad, but most of the sightings of him are false alarms. He doesn't show up properly till near the end of the second act and there's a whole cat fight, it's awesome, I love picking out which cats stay to fight and which run away. He abducts Old Deut, the patriarch, and the only chance the cats have to get him back is Mister Mistoffelees, who depending on the performance is kind of clumsy and insecure, or really effing amazeballs at magic. I prefer the first because it makes more sense why Rum Tum Tugger sings his song for him (old versions have Mister Mistoffelees singing at least part of his song). Then Old Deut's back and now it's time for the Heavyside Layer!

Meanwhile meanwhile, there's Grizabella, who is haunting the Jellicle Ball with much more tangible yearning. She's washed up, a has-been. She can't dance anymore. No one trusts her. Why? Idk, people are just like that. The other cats fear Macavity, who represents destruction and chaos, but they look down on Grizabella, who is failure and regret and mortality. For whom all the broken dreams could be forgotten if she could join just one more dance. Defeating Macavity isn't the Jellicles ultimate test - accepting Grizabella is.

ETA: I feel like I didn't quite get across why this is so important. The show spends so much time building up our dread of Macavity, but sightings of Grizabella leave us feeling wrong-footed and uncomfortable. And the reason is: Macavity is destruction, but Grizabella is destroyed. A grizzled beauty - someone with no more life left in them. She's a vision of a grim future which the Jellicles want to reject. She's been made small and weak and pathetic. So they blame her for her situation, because then they can go on with their ball without all that discomfort. And they don't just decide to redeem her in the end - first, Grizabella has to sing "Memory." Grizabella needs to tell the Jellicles "There was a time before I experienced destruction too, when I didn't know how happy I was." The only thing which keeps that spark in her alive is the memory of it, and it's that which makes her the chosen candidate to go the Heavyside Layer. A threat like Macavity, while very scary, is mortal and temporary. But Grizabella's ability to look back on her life and find the happiness in it, and reach out to the others while on death's door, despite the risk of harsh rejection, speaks to something eternal. And the Jellicles have a choice whether they will show acceptance for that full course of life.

Then up she goes via the Stairway to Heaven and who knows what happens to her after that. Idgaf really, ask the Everlasting Cat. And then we sing a song about how great cats are because it's true. I mean come on. Shakespeare would write this.

Um wait up... plot holes???

Wait - why did Macavity kidnap Old Deut in the first place though? This is pretty unexplored backstory. Generally fans assume Macavity torments the Jellicles on the regular, and that he did something to Demeter in the past, which is why she's often depicted as the most skittish when he's mentioned. He's a bad egg - his song details enough - and also he's got his paws in the community, thanks to Griddlebone and Mungojerrie.

OK, so not knowing what his motivation is, as well as not knowing why Mungojerrie, who is fairly lovable despite being a thief, is involved with him, is kind of a big plot hole. It'd be nice to know that right? It'd be nice to know what happened to Grizabella - did she leave the Jellicles by choice, did she shun and reject them before she went off on her own? What did these characters do leading up to the events of the show?

This is what defines the True Cats Fan. The True Cats Fan not only doesn't know the official answers to these questions (there aren't any, shut up Hooper), but PREFERS them that way. Number one, it turns the show into a single evening suspended in time. We are voyeurs - guests come to witness the holy day of the catpeople. We are foreigners. We don't understand everything we see because we are not one of them. "What's a Jellicle Cat?" The cats are stunned that we don't know, but can't explain it to us in full either. A Jellicle Cat doesn't need it explain. They always know. So the story is what it is, you know what you know, and what you don't, well, it's not inconsequential, but it is for tomorrow. And tomorrow isn't today, that's the thing.

Number two is that the True Cats Fan doesn't want these questions answered because... we'd rather answer them ourselves!

LAST. The fan lore rocks!

Cats is just so much fun to fan girl in. Because the canon is so whatever, we can come up with our own ideas about backstory and relationships, and when we go to the next show, it's gleeful fun to see what elements of pure director's whim support our fan theories. If you're not interested in headcanons or fan theories you can leave now, here's your certificate, now you know what Cats fans love about the musical Cats. If you're a true freak, read on!

A lot of these are influenced by the 1998 DVD because that was the most accessible way to watch Cats (the musical). But the best ones have roots in any show canon, or extrapolate from like, a single lyric. Making sense of the nonsense without committing to getting rid of the nonsense, because we love nonsense. Also these DON'T all go together, they are independent headcanons, otherwise some of them would be really Not Good hahaha.

OK, so Old Deut is everyone'd dad. BUT, he's particularly dad of Munkustrap, Macavity, and Rum Tum Tugger. Sometimes in that order, sometimes not. This is hilarious to me. I love the idea that Munk and Tugger are brothers and that's why they drive each other batty. And who doesn't love a secret third brother who is als evil, or prodigal son who kidnaps his own father?

Demeter was Macavity's girlfriend before he got kicked out, or sometimes she went with him and came back once she realized he lost his marbles. She's been traumatized by him and that trauma is even choreographed or her. There's behind the scenes video, I think it's from the 1998 DVD, where they explain that, so it's rather more than a theory. She often has a role in the fight scene - an actual fighting role, rather than a cowering one. Now Demeter is Munkustrap's mate, which, if you accept the "Munkustrap/Tugger/Macavity are brothers" theory, makes for all kinds of juicy drama.

Victoria is Plato's girlfriend. Victoria is Mistoffelees's sister. Victoria is Mistoffelees's girlfriend. Victoria is Munkustrap's girlfriend??? Take your pick lol.

Victoria can't speak and/or is deaf and that's why she communicates through dancing.

Demeter and Bombalurina are sisters

Sillabub/Jemima is Munkustrap's daughter (ok...).

Munkustrap is the Jellicle leader of sorts. Old Deut is the real leader, but he's old y'know. And Munkustrap is kinda sorta his son. But Munk doesn't do a lot of leaderly things. He disciplines sometimes and controls the kittens, and he fights in the battle scene. But mostly he sings songs and tells stories. So there's a headcanon that Munk has reservations about being Old Deut's successor and wishes he could just tell stories all the time. So wholesome...

Rum Tum Tugger is a bi disaster and Mister Mistoffelees is his twink boyfriend. Gay cats, they're gay, it's theater, it's a show about cats with a cat orgy, did you really expect different? Now although I make fun I am into it. Tugger, brash and vain yet insecure, and Mistoffelees, insecure with inner pride. In some shows older cats like Skimbleshanks and Gus will be shown trying to lead Mistoffelees away from Rum Tum Tugger during his song, as if concerned by their promising, talented young friend's interest in the local Bad Boy. Mistoffelees's real talent humbles Tugger, and Tugger's audaciousness enables Mistoffelees to take risks. Thus the day is saved! Tugger and Mistoffelees weren't always a set on stage - it could be Mistoffelees and Munkustrap as the two leads, or why Tugger sings Mistoffelees's song would just go without explanation. But these days it's a popular enough duo that it's become fairly regular. And the 2016 actors put Tugger/Misto fan art on the wall in their dressing room therefore it is Canon.

Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots are a couple, inspired by the way he teases her during the Gumbie Cat song

Skimbleshanks is a DILF

Grizabella was Old Deut's girlfriend x'D or is Macavity's mother or something. Personally I don't need this theory lol we've already got enough overlapping relationships to write twelve soap operas so.

Cats with collars are house cats, cats without are strays. Not super reliable but fun to think about.

Some cats aren't named, or have different names depending on the country or decade. These cats can have some really, really dedicated fans whose personal headcanons about these completely undeveloped characters are ironclad.

Asparagus and Gus are father and son. This is to explain why the actor who plays Asparagus is always around, and called Gus/Asparagus, and then for Theater Cat and Growltiger he seems much older but is still called Gus. It's the same actor in slightly different costumes but fans just pretend there's two characters to explain it.

Same thing with Admetus/Plato, who doubles as Macavity in the 1998 DVD, and in many stage performances as well. Macavity is Plato's evil alter ego, but he's in love with Victoria so he doesn't want anyone to know. Or he's not even aware that he is Macavity. A Jekyll and Hyde sort of deal.

Mistoffelees is Macavity's son and that's why he can do magic. (Ergo why Macavity can make Old Deut disappear and Mistoffelees can make him reappear).

Alonzo was Munkustrap's gay fling in college so to speak. Or Alonzo is Munkustrap's half-brother

Coricopat and Tantomile are psychic twins (almost canon) and coach Sillabub/Jemima because she sings really pretty when she's in a trance and seems to Know Ineffable Stuff. In fanfics they're often depicted as not liking Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, which is kinda funny because I guess I would have thought twins on twins would have been The Thing, lol.

Griddlebone was Gus's wife and sometimes Jellylorum's mom. She's evil, independently of Macavity, but also in cahoots with him because song lyrics. ETA: Also that she's Grizabella when she was young!

There's a cat just called George who everyone loves. He's an ensemble cat with no particulars. Love George. Worship George.

Look there's like ninety seven thousand characters in Cats (the Musical) and three times as many headcanons. I'm leaving a lot out but I can't remember any more right now and I gotta go make dinner.

[latibvles]

[patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds

For Willie and Brady please.

take a walk. | willie & brady

my dear anon I think you and the other willie/Brady truthers (myself included) got more than we asked for but boy was it fun to write. here's willie & Brady in the moments after touching down in Africa

—

Willie’s ears are still ringing the moment she hits the ground. She thinks she hears Carrie retching, throwing up the remains of their last supper, and the air around them is stifling and suffocatingly hot.

She still isn’t quite breathing right and her ears are ringing, but they’re alive — bleeding a bit, battered and bruised, but alive.

Beside her, Viv is counting crews in a barely perceptible mumble, like she’s perched on the watch tower and didn’t just fly them to Africa. Willie screws her eyes shut, clings to the sound of Viv’s counting and tries not to hone in on Carrie’s shaky breathing or the clamor of crews trying to get their bearings. Try as she might to just breathe, to slow her heartbeat into something that doesn’t hurt as much, she comes up empty and shallow.

A hand splays out against the center of her spine and she nearly jumps at the contact, eyes snapping open and head whipping up from her crouched position almost violently. Viv gives her an apologetic smile, Jo Alden next to her, big gray eyes making no effort to hide their worry as she holds out her canteen and Willie takes it, scrutinizing it for a moment.

“Carrie’s got her own, if that’s what you’re worried about Lieutenant,” Jo offers. Willie lets out a small sigh and a nod, taking a sip from it and looks at Viv once more. Her brows are furrowed, looking all over her face and following the slope of her shoulders. Assessing her, in that way she does everyone in their group. Willie doesn’t even try to mask her tension.

“Why don’t you swing by the 418th? Veal asked me to go find Kidd but I want to make sure Carrie doesn’t hack up anything vital over there.” Take a minute, Willie, is what she actually means, take a walk. And if Willie didn’t know herself and know that she kind of needed it, then she’d fight her more on it.

But right now she’s kind of grateful for Viv’s uncanny ability to lie on the spot. She tries to hand Jo back the canteen, but she waves her hand with another smile of hers and a ‘keep it’ that Willie isn’t going to argue against, so she does — then heads off in the general direction Viv gestured to. All the while, the planes on the runway are kicking up dust and the clamoring here is somehow synonymous with the kind they’d hear in England. There’re a couple claps on the back, a couple shouts of her name. She counts the forts that she knows under her breath and gives nods of acknowledgement to those she spots, but little else.

It’s not England — but somehow her feet just know where to go and how to find him. Well, maybe not him, but she finds Hoerr, and Hambone, and the rest of his crew as they’re walking away from their fort. Hoerr nods at her in acknowledgement, lets the others keep walking as he slows to talk to her.

“Looking for Brady?” Straight to the point, Willie tries not to bristle at the fact that she’s apparently become transparent by now — at least by Hoerr’s standard.

“Kidd, actually.”

“Mm, well… Johnny’s taking a minute in there, should be out by the time you find him. Welcome to Africa by the way.” He gestures to their fort and he gives her a smile after that. Willie mutters out her thanks as he passes her. Part of her just wants to bury her head in the sand like an ostrich, but instead she stares up at Paddlefoot’s Proxy like a kid waiting for Santa to drop down the chimney. Her chest isn’t hurting anymore, not like before, but she’s still restless. The exhaustion of having flown hasn’t hit her quite yet and maybe that’s just another side effect of being in Africa.

If Willie thinks on it long enough, she can pretend she’s back at Thorpe Abbotts and John’s just led his fort away from occupied France, getting a taste of flak before anyone else did. But he was fine that day, in one whole piece, and that’d been enough for her back then.

But she counts the seconds until the counting drives her half-mad. Maybe she was more patient before she actually started getting shot at. Willie figures she’s got two options, really. She can either be the idiot waiting by a fort that isn’t hers while everyone else is still in motion, or she can be the idiot climbing into a fort that isn’t hers because she’s growing impatient and antsy with every second spent waiting for him to drop down so she can see John Brady’s face and know, definitively, that he is okay.

Adrenaline and impulsivity win out. She’s hauling herself into the fort before she can second-guess it.

Willie doesn’t really know what she was expecting, entirely. She’d never been in his fort but they all tended to look the same upon the first glance. It’s full of holes casting their kaleidoscope of golden light onto the narrow walkway. Her eyes trace them like it’s a game of connect-the-dots, walking up and until they land on a bouncing knee, and hunched shoulders, and a rosary grasped tightly in two hands.

John’s hair is all strewn about, lip between his teeth — he doesn’t notice her until she clears her throat and when he does, there’s a soft form of surprise on his face that doesn’t meld with this battered fort and the blood on his temples.

“No rush, they haven’t brought out the beer yet,” Willie offers, “Could keep an eye out for you though.”

John lets out one of those breathy, half-hearted laughs of his and moves down on the narrow bench to make room, as if there were some invisible entity that he didn’t want to sandwich her against. Willie takes a couple steps and sits beside him. Their knees knock and his gaze is still fixed on the flak holes across from him. They’re silent for a couple moments — she focuses on his slow steady breathing and tries to mimic it.

“You see Biddick yet?” he asks after a moment. His voice is a little hoarse. Willie shakes her head.

“Saw Benny though.” It’s the most optimistic she’ll allow herself to be — if Benny made it then surely Curt did too. Made it somewhere, in any case. Tentatively, she reaches up to touch the scratches on his face, angry, red, and bleeding; they curve in the same shape of their helmets, and Willie’s pretty sure she’s already got a couple scars from the helmet and the mask, but she asks anyway: “How’d you get this?”

He turns his head fully to look at her, and Willie thinks her heart might start pounding again.

“Helmet too tight and bad turbulence,” she rolls her eyes at his quick remark.

“Do you have rags?” His brows furrow.

“By the radio, I think, why?” Impulsively, Willie drags her thumb across his cheekbone before she rises to her feet and crosses by him. She pokes her head into the radioroom, sure enough finding a couple rags jammed between the radio and the curve of the wall. She looks back at John, who’s still giving her a weird look, then reaches for the canteen she’d slung over her side and shakes it.

“For the scratches.” He shakes his head a little bit as she makes her way back to him.

“You don’t have to do that.” Willie shrugs.

“I want to. Do… you not want me to?” His eyes widen a little bit and he shakes his head a bit.

“That’s not what I meant I just… didn’t want to give you the hassle.” Willie unscrews the cap and wets the rag, squeezing it and then looking up at him as the excess water runs beneath her sleeve. The air in here’s hot already, so she doesn’t mind it.

“You’re not a hassle,” Willie puts it plainly, sliding forward a bit more. John leans towards her, and the gesture alone has her taking her lip between her teeth, praying her free hand doesn’t tremble as she tilts his chin to get a better look. There’s a selfish part of her that wants to take her time with this, drinking in the sight of his eyes and parted lips. The next words are tumbling from her mouth before she can stop them. “I like doing things for you.”

His lips curl into a smile, and she’s pretty sure there’s a flush creeping up her neck.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?” She fixes him with a narrow-eyed look, but he’s just looking at her with that familiar myrth that knocks the wind out of her when she’s more grounded. She couldn’t deny that part anymore even if she never knew how to handle the way he looks at her, what she was supposed to do with that. Willie rolls her eyes and shakes her head, goes to wipe the dried blood from the side of his face and he hardly even flinches — he just lets out a soft exhale of a laugh. They’re quiet for a few moments before he simply fills it with a “Me too,” that has Willie pausing in her movements, before continuing.

She isn’t quite sure if it’s hot in here from her own flush, the heat festering within the walls, or because of whatever charged air there is between them. Probably a culmination of all three, which has her huffing under her breath in mild frustration, and John gives her a raised brow.

“No one told me it was hot in Africa,” Willie laments sarcastically.

“It’s no Pennsylvania,” he offers. She can’t help her smile as she looks at him again.

“Or New York.” He’s smiling too — and Willie wonders if they’ve maybe gone a little insane to be smiling at all right now. But she’ll stop questioning it, taking it in greedily like she does every feeling he elicits from her. “Bad snow?”

“The worst. We’d shovel for hours.”

“You could have the whole family out there and you wouldn’t make a dent.” Talking about home doesn’t hurt with John. A lot of the guys really started avoiding that topic more often — it’s hard to talk about it without thinking of all the people who won’t get to go home after all this. It lingers in the back of her mind like a shadow in her periphery, but he has a way of chasing the ghosts out for a little while. She doesn’t think of that; she thinks of her mother demanding to meet the “musician” and Willie having to reiterate that it’s not like that.

With her hand on his face like this, up close like this, she wonders if she might’ve been lying about that part in her letters. She tilts his head to the other side to get the other set of scratches — the sun leaking through the flak holes lights up his eyes in a way that makes it impossible not to stare.

“I had a weird thought, when we were up there,” John admits, and it’s her turn to raise a brow. “Think it was… after the first round of fighters,” he looks at her pointedly now, in that way that makes her feel like he’s seeing through her and reading her like an open book. “I realized that you never told me what Willie’s short for. Couldn’t even make my best guess. It bothered me for a solid five minutes.”

There’s something about that statement that makes her swallow hard. The unspoken things behind it — we were in the air, and I was thinking of you. We’d just been hit with flak and fighters and I wanted to know your name. We could’ve gone down, and my thoughts would’ve been about you, and what I still don’t know about you. Now she knows it with certainty: the air is electric with the weight of his admittance and her heart is certainly pounding once more, but for a better reason.

“Wilhelmina,” She says.

“Wilhelmina?” He parrots.

“Yeah. Mouthful, isn’t it?” Willie gives John a lopsided smile, eyes flitting to the blood she’d wiped from the side of his face, pink scrapes against flushed skin. Better now. But his jaw clenches and she hasn’t moved out of his space quite yet.

“I like it,” John counters in a way that’s defensive, like he’s gotta defend the sound of her own name from herself. I could’ve died wondering what that was, so don’t tell me it’s a mouthful. To his credit: he’d said her name so curiously, like it was some type of wonder to behold. Still, Willie’s brows furrow, and he doubles down. “I like Wilhelmina.”

He is stubborn, and adamant, and frank about it. Like it’s all so simple and not something to argue against, because he won’t be changing his mind on this. He likes Wilhelmina, and that’s the end of that.

And Willie is tilting his head again to look at her, and kissing him with just as much certainty.

His lips are chapped and his whole body is shuddering in her hands before his own find her hips and pull her closer to him. His lips are warm, his hair weaves easily between her fingers. Their noses are bumping clumsily but she can’t find it in herself to care for those few moments where it’s just John’s lips seeking out hers, and John’s hands squeezing at her hips to the point where she makes a pleased noise, reflexively, against his mouth.

By the time they part, she’s breathless, chest heaving against his.

John’s staring at her, lips parted, face lit up by the setting sun forcing its way through flak holes and Willie can’t help but find him beautiful like this — face speckled in golden dots, boyish expression all riddled with disbelief. Her heart is pounding in her ears. John Brady don’t you get it? I’ve wanted to do that since Sioux City.

“When we get back to England,” his lips are brushing against hers salaciously on every word, his fingers digging into her hips like she’ll be swept away by desert wind. “I’m using my pass, and we’re going on three whole dates. Real ones.” 

“Three whole ones? Not a half of one?” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners and Willie can’t help it: she’s smiling too.

“Three whole ones, Wilhelmina.” He insists, and before she can give him a witty reply, he’s leaning forward to crush her in another decisive, needy kiss.

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Eight

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. A little fighting but nothing too detailed.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

A/N: We’re on our way to Ba Sing Se! And if its not too much trouble could you guys just leave your thoughts and tell me what you thought of this chapter and the story overall please? I would really appreciate it.

To say things were awkward between her and Zuko would be an understatement.

Where there had been some form of civility between the both of them, despite their constant bickering, now it was............silence. Sure there were a few words exchanged, but they were short and curt, and neither of them would look at the other when they spoke.

It was beginning to get on Iroh’s nerves. He would take their constant bickering any day over whatever this was. Once more he wandered what had happened when Orora had gone after his nephew. Zuko had returned first, dripping wet and without the ostrich horse or Orora. Iroh didn’t have time to worry long. She soon returned as well, perfectly dry and with a protective covering over both her and Chairo to keep from getting wet. She had simply offered Iroh a small shake of her head at his offer of a hot meal, pulled out her sleeping bag, and disappeared under her blanket. 

It had been a few days since that day, and his injuries were on the mend. They were healing remarkably fast. All thanks to Orora and her healing abilities. She would have two healing sessions with him everyday. One in the morning and another one at night. After a few days she allowed him to start practicing a few firebending stances to help his muscles heal properly. But she was always ready in case he pulled a muscle or something of the sort.

During their stay in the rundown hut, Orora had taken to practicing her waterbending stances. She would go through them over and over, until every step was seamless like water running over a rock, and every movement of her arm was as fluid as the water she bended. Given that she needed to practice near water, and Iroh wasn’t about to let her out of his sight for fear of Azula returning, all three of them would go down to the nearby river. And while Iroh would dip his feet in the cool water and Zuko would sulk nearby, Orora would step into the water and practice.

Of course before stepping into the water she had to shed the baggy brown pants and tunic she had worn since the day she had begun her journey disguised as a boy.

Which left her in her underclothes, which consisted of a light blue bandeau wrapped around her chest, leaving her shoulders and stomach completely bare. Around her hips was a sarong type skirt under which she had a pair of, what looked to be, short pants that ended mid-thigh.

Since the time she had chopped off her hair, the strands now just touched her cheeks. Where her pale blue eyes had been the most prominent feature against her tanned skin, now white portion at the front of her hair was what stood out more. The months of traveling had led her to loose whatever baby fat had been left, and while she still thought of herself as unshapely, anyone could see that she was filling out quite well when it came to the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts. Not to mention the constant walking and waterbending practice she did helped kept her in shape. And though she was eating significantly less then she normally did, she didn’t have a starved look about her face.

All in all, she looked rather healthy considering the circumstances.

After a few moments of contemplation where she stared at her reflection in the clear water, Orora inhaled softly before assuming her first stance and starting her practice.

Completely unaware of a pair of golden eyes taking in her every movement  sitting on the river bank almost entranced. 

Iroh had seen his nephew looking, and a smile pulled at his lips at the expression on the young Prince’s face. “What has you so deep in thought Prince Zuko?” He asked, though there was a certain teasing tone in his words, there was also curiosity and sincerity. That words acted as a reminder that he was staring and he quickly looked away, his cheeks a little red at having been caught staring.

Silence followed his words as Iroh chuckled and returned to watching his student execute a particularly difficult waterbending move to perfection. “Bravo Orora! You are doing very well.” Orora pushed her wet hair back from her forehead to give the older man a grin before returning to her practice. Zuko had caught the move out of the corner of his eyes, and though he would never voice it, he knew that under his Uncle’s guidance, despite their different elements, Orora would become a skilled bender.

“Tell me Prince Zuko, now that you have found your soulmate, is there anything you intend to do something about it?” So perhaps he was being a little nosy, but Iroh was hoping that Orora would be the person to bring a little light, laughter and perhaps love into his nephew’s life. He had been so starved of all three since his mother’s disappearance, and though Iroh tried his best to fill that void, perhaps having another person would help steer Zuko down the right path.

Zuko had visibly stiffened at the question, stubbornly refusing to meet his Uncle’s inquiring gaze. Once more he didn’t reply, though his mind wandered back to the night of the storm. When they had both finally acknowledged what they had been trying to fight since the day they met.

“There is nothing to do about anything, Uncle.” He stated in a flat tone. “Nothing will ever become of it. Our destines will never allow it.” How could anything happen? She was of the Water Tribe and he was from the Fire Nation. If he was ever to have any chance of going back home, he would never be able to take her with him. A prince of the Fire Nation with a water bending soulmate?

Even if the Fire Sages let it slip, his father would never allow it to happen.

Iroh’s expression grew a little grave at what his nephew was implying. “As I have often told you Prince Zuko, destiny works in mysterious ways, but it never throws a problem at a person that they cannot figure out.” He reached out to gently place a hand on his shoulder.

“You will find the answer to this my boy. And sometimes the answer is standing right in front of you.” As he spoke, Iroh’s gaze moved to Orora who was still practicing. Unconsciously Zuko followed his gaze.

And continued to look at her until she was finished with her training and approached the shore. Zuko stood abruptly to his feet as she did, turning his back to her. “I hope you’re feeling up for some traveling Uncle, we will be leaving in the morning.”

Orora frowned, opening her mouth to protest but a silent look from her Master had her sighing. “Well I suppose I should start packing up.” She spoke softly as she quickly dried herself off using waterbending and donning her clothes. Zuko didn’t hear her response, having already started down the path back towards their temporary abode.

                                          ————————–

“He shouldn’t be traveling this soon.”

Zuko glanced up from where he had been saddling Chairo. Orora had just exited the small hut from where he could already hear the sounds of his Uncle snoring away. He had probably just finished a healing session with him.

“I know, but if we stay here, my sister might find us again.” He didn’t miss the look of surprise she gave him at his calm response. It was a first for him, to respond normally to anything she said. But he was just tired, and didn’t feel it in him to argue with her. “True.” 

If he could be civil, she could be civil.

“I guess we just have to be careful with him.” Zuko gave a small smile as he shook his head. “He may not look it, but he’s tough. He can handle it.” His tone was as reassuring as it could get, and it did ease Orora’s worry a little. A particularly loud snore echoed in the night prompting Orora to smile and for Zuko to let out a small groan of embarrassment.

“Especially after he’s had a good night sleep. Which we should be getting as well.” With one final tug to make sure everything was well and truly packed, Zuko picked up his sleeping mat and moved to walk past Orora and towards the hut.

“Hey Zuko?” The sound of her calling out his name made him pause. He had stopped barely a foot away from her, so the placement allowed them to stand face to face. Just as they had done a few nights ago on the mountain.

There was a certain nervousness about her, but the question that had been gnawing away inside her was what finally compelled her to speak her mind. “Is it because I’m from the water tribe that’s........stopping you?”

He stared at her, the surprise at her question evident in his expression given his parted lips and the how his eyes had widened. Her heart beating almost unbearably fast in her chest, Orora continued. “Because your being from the Fire Nation, not to mention being the Prince is whats stopping me from...........” Her voice trailed off, but her eyes dropped to the finger where the thread was tied.

Pale blue met bright gold, and their gazes held. They held for a long time.

Long enough for Orora to memorize they very shape of his scar, something that she had never really allowed herself to observe before. She also noticed some other things. Like how, for example, how nervous yet soft he looked in that moment. And how when he wasn’t frowning he was actually rather handsome. She was aware how some people would find the scar off-putting, but she didn’t. Scars were a part of life. And while most people hid them, Zuko didn’t have that choice. Still, she did feel herself begin to blush under his intense gaze, but she didn’t let herself look away.

Probably because she wanted to memorize the exact color of his eyes.

Maybe?

Zuko had spent the entire day observing Orora, and even in the past, when he had allowed himself to do so, somehow, she managed to reveal something new and intriguing about herself to him. At the moment he was wandering if the white patch in her hair was just as soft to touch as it was to look at. And then there were her eyes. It was utterly ridiculous how those eyes had the power to invoke feelings within him. Feelings he had made sure lay dormant lest they find the strength to grow stronger. At the moment, he was beginning to feel a little nervous as he struggled to find the words to answer her question.

“Its....not the only thing stopping me.” He responded truthfully, finally diverting his eyes to instead look at the ground between them. Normally he would have brushed her off, but something in her eyes had compelled him to answer.

“I suppose other then being a prince and a firebender, another thing stopping you is my scar. And if you heard how I got it, it would only add to the list of whats stopping you.” What better way to bring himself down even more then to speak of the ugly truth that was in front of her. That she probably looked at everyday. He really should win a prize when it came self-deprecation.

A small sound from Orora made him look back up. And watch in surprise as she stepped forward, her hand raised to gently place her fingers against the scarred skin of his face. The sleeping mat he had been holding fell to the ground as his eyes clashed against the blue of her own. The slight difference in their heights had him tilting his head forward a little.

His mind flashed back to their second meeting, when she had removed the blue spirit mask and seen his face for the first time. She had done the same back then. Did that mean she didn’t find his scar repulsive?

Orora was glad for what she did. For the way she had reached out and touched him. And though he had been surprised at first, she made a promise to never point out to him how she had felt his head lean slightly into her touch. Her thumb brushed against the scar, and all Zuko wanted to do was close his eyes and savor in her touch.

But he didn’t.

He couldn’t.

“It has never stopped me Zuko. And I doubt the story of how you got it would either.” Her voice was soft, so soft that if he hadn’t been standing so close, he would never have heard her properly. As was the norm an argument to negate her words rose in his mind, but another sweep of her thumb had the words fading from his mind. And this time he did allow his eyes to close.

If only to savor in her gentle touch for a few moments.

To allow him this little moment of selfishness.

“Maybe one day, you can tell me. When you’re ready.”

With one final gentle stroke of her thumb and fingers, she pulled back. Zuko didn’t open his eyes, as the younger waterbender began to walk back to the rundown hut. And as she settled into her bedding, she couldn’t help but feel that she had somehow helped put Zuko’s mind and heart at ease with her words.

The thought made her smile. She was still smiling as she slowly fell asleep, thinking of the Fire Nation Prince.

Now all they had to do was work past the fact that he was a prince of the fire nation and she was a waterbender. And though such a feat would take some time, for the first time since he had been made aware of Orora, Zuko allowed himself to feel a little hope.

                                          ————————–

“Orora! Watch out!”

The warning came just as the stray flaming arrow flew straight towards her exposed arm. Given her sharp reflexes, the waterbender was quickly able to throw up an ice shield and watch it shatter. As the new threat, who Iroh had introduced as the The Rough Rhinos outnumbered them, the best tactic would be to retreat. Which was exactly what Iroh was thinking as he rode past her with his arm stretched out to help her get on Chairo. She was quick to grasp the back of Iroh’s robe to steady herself before throwing her own arm out to help Zuko jump behind her. The momentum of his jump very nearly threw him off the other side, but Orora managed to grip his arm and wrap it around her waist to keep him from slipping any further.

“It's nice to see old friends.” Iroh said, laughter evident in his tone as they made their escape. Behind her, Orora could hear Zuko scoff as he growled. “Too bad you don't have any old friends that don't want to attack you.” His tone was spiteful and normally Orora would have told him off for speaking like that but he had a point. And it seemed Iroh seemed to be thinking along the same lines as well. 

“Hmmm...old friends that don't want to attack me.”

She leaned forward to glance at him from the side. “Do you have anyone in mind who could help us Master?” She asked to which Iroh gave a nod. “I do. And we are by luck heading in the right direction.” So saying he spurred the ostrich-horse to go faster.

The sudden change in pace caused Orora to fall backwards and into Zuko’s chest.

“Watch it!” He still had an arm around her waist to keep himself steady, and perhaps it was the close proximity that made Orora fell just a little nervous about the situation. “You watch it. You nearly fell to the other side when you jumped.” She glanced over her shoulder so she could look at him while they argued.

Zuko glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “Next time we’re attacked by one of Uncle’s old friends maybe you shouldn’t rush into things before assessing the entire situation!” He threw back, to which Orora rolled her eyes.

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we had the time to asses the threat before attacking. They sure seemed in a hurry to attack us didn’t they?! Or have you forgotten the giant fireball they threw at you?”

Iroh barely suppressed a laugh as he listened to the two teenagers argue. It was nice to hear them speaking properly once more.

“Something amusing, Master?” She may be his student, but Orora had an uncanny ability to make him think before speaking lest he make the young girl angry.

“Not at all. You two carry on with your conversation.”

Though neither teenager felt like doing so. Not when they both realized just how close they were to one another. With Zuko’s arm around Orora’s waist, and back resting against his chest as she leaned against him. They couldn’t even pull away for fear of falling off. With obvious blushes on both their cheeks, they prayed for the journey to soon be over.

For this had to be the most awkward yet pleasant thing that had occurred to the both of them in such a spontaneous manner.

                                          ————————–

Luckily Iroh’s friends, whoever they were, were not so far. They entered what had once been a lovely oasis, at least according to the inscription Orora had read at the gate, but now it was all rundown and filled with some of the most unsavory people she had ever seen.

While Zuko and Iroh did not seem bothered with the way they were looking at them, Orora felt shivers go up her spine with the way some of the people looked at her. 

At first she tried to glare back. 

Tried to make them stand down. 

But that only made the looks persistent. An uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach. And though she knew she could take them out if she wanted to she had to keep her head down for Iroh and Zuko’s sake. 

Beside there were so many of them. It was enough leering that it made her loose a little confidence in herself as she directed her gaze towards the ground, hoping to avoid any more unwanted eye contact.

Unconsciously she had stepped a little closer to Zuko, her arm brushing against his as they walked. He had glanced at her, about to tell her to step away a little but he stopped when he caught sight of the slightly fearful expression she wore. He frowned, his eyes instantly assessing their surroundings in case she had seen someone threatening. What he did manage to see were several male onlookers nearly ogling Orora.

White hot anger flashed within him, and his hands clenched as he shot a deadly glare at each and every person who dared look at her that way. One of them seemed to not take the warning look from Zuko, prompting him to nearly take a step in his direction just to throw a punch at him.

However, a hand timidly grasping his stopped him. He did not need to look down to see who it was, but he did begin to walk in front of Orora, almost as if he were shielding her with his body. Orora felt herself starting to relax. If any of these people tried anything she had both Zuko and Iroh to help her.

She wasn’t alone.

Given that their gazes were trained straight ahead, neither of them noticed when the thread between them suddenly glimmered with color before disappearing.

                                          ————————–

They had entered the rundown shop where apparently they served the best mango drinks. Sipping on her drink, Orora concentrated on the taste as Iroh looked around in search of his friend. “Are you sure they will be here Master. This place doesn’t rally boast......good company does it?” She was referring to the several mercenaries around. They looked like how mercenary would at least.  

Zuko grumbled in agreement. “No one here is going to help us. These people just look like filthy wanderers.”

“So do we.” His Uncle replied with a grin before pointing at something behind Zuko. “Ah, this is interesting. I think I found our friend”

The two teenagers quickly followed Iroh as he led them to a table where an old man sat as if he were waiting for someone. Orora recognized the table and frowned slightly. Zuko seemed to realize what was going on as well. "You brought us here to gamble on Pai Sho?” He said, sounding just as irritated as he looked. Orora rolled her eyes at him, getting a little tired of his rudeness. Sure his presence helped her feel a little safe, but that didn’t stop her from being annoyed by him.

Iroh shook his head. “I don't think this is a gamble.” So saying he led the way towards the table with Zuko and Orora following after him. “May I have this game?” Iroh asked in an almost serene voice. The other man gestured for Iroh to sit down. “The guest has the first move.” He said. Iroh gave a small nod before turning to look at Orora. “My dear, if you would please allow me to borrow a certain tile from you?”

Zuko looked between the Master and Student in confusion. Orora for her part gave a small nod before slowly retrieving the white lotus tile Master Pakku had given her all those months ago and handing it over to Iroh, who placed it in the center of the board.

“I see you favor the white lotus gambit.” The other man said. “Not many still cling to the ancient ways.” Iroh gave a small nod of agreement. “Those who do can always find a friend”

Seemingly satisfied with what Iroh had said, the old man nodded. “Then let us play.”

Orora watched, almost mesmerized as Iroh and the other man placed tile after tile on the board. Never once were they out of sync, neither did they speak a word while they did. Zuko was watching just as intently as she was, though he did sit down while she kept standing.

Finally they each placed the final tile and revealed the pattern they had created.

A lotus flower.

"Welcome, brother.” The old man greeted by opening his arms wide. “The White Lotus opens wide to those who know her secrets.” Never before had Orora felt both curious and perplexed simultaneously. Zuko was helpful enough to voice what they were both feeling in that moment. 

“What are you old gasbags talking about?” Instinctively her hand darted out to slap his arm for being so rude. Knowing what the slap was for, Zuko simply threw her a brief glare before turning his attention back to his Uncle who was smiling widely.

“I always tried to tell you that Pai Sho is more than just a game.” He said as he rolled Orora’s tile over his knuckles and clutched it.

A sudden commotion caused all of them to look up to see a man approach their table. “It's over! You two fugitives are coming with me!” Instantly Orora was on the defensive. She uncorked the water bag at her side, twin ice daggers forming in her hand as she took up a defensive position in front of Zuko and Iroh. Iroh’s friend quickly placed himself before Iroh and Zuko, preventing the man from reaching them.

"I knew it! You two are wanted criminals with a giant bounty on your heads!!” He exclaimed, pointing at the two firebenders. Zuko growled. “I thought you said he would help!” He had reached out to grasp Orora’s elbow to prevent her from attacking anyone who would throw back a bigger punch.

Iroh simply placed a hand on Zuko's shoulder to reassure him, still smiling. “He is. Just watch.” Orora allowed her stance to soften, but only slightly.

“You think you're going to capture them and collect all that gold!?”

"Gold?”

That seemed to do the trick. Suddenly the entire establishment was looking at them. Some of the patrons even stood up, pulling out their weapons, ready to attack. Within moments, it was chaos. Through it all, the trio managed to escape with the old man leading the way. And though it wasn’t necessary, Zuko kept a firm grip on Orora’s hand as they ran.

And despite her always thinking she didn’t need help, Orora allowed herself to be helped in that moment.

It felt nice to have someone worry about her safety for once.

                                          ————————–

They didn’t have to run very long. Soon they reached a small village at the very edge of the desert, and were all ushered inside a little flower shop.

The man, who had introduced himself as Fung, bowed to Iroh. “It is an honor to welcome such a high-ranking member of the Order of the White Lotus. Being a Grand Master, you must know so many secrets.” Zuko, who was getting a little annoyed with the lack of answers snapped. “Now that you played Pai Sho, are you going to do some flower arranging, or is someone in this club going to offer some real help‌.”

This time Orora punched him in the shoulder. “Why do you have to be so rude Zuko?” She admonished him. His only response was to glare at her, which she returned with just as much heat as it was given. While the two teens bickered, Iroh had moved towards the door at the end of the shop and was already going through it. Both Zuko and Orora made to enter but the door was slammed shut in their faces. Iroh opened the small window to smile at the both of them. “I'm afraid it's members only. Wait out here.” With that the window closed and Iroh disappeared.

“Are you pouting Zuko?” Orora asked in a teasing tone. The young Prince gave a response in the negative in an almost annoyed manner. The girl laughed softly to herself before moving off to wander around the flower shop. A still annoyed Zuko frowned and crossed his arms before he moved to lean against a nearby table.

Discretely he shifted his head slightly to sniff at the flower next to him before pulling back.

The atmosphere in the shop was rather relaxed now that they knew someone was willing to help them. Not to mention the little.....talk they had a few nights ago had helped clear the air a little. Neither of them spoke, too tired to actually say anything from the constant running and traveling they had done throughout the day.

Once she was done exploring, Orora came to sit down where Zuko was standing. It didn’t take long for Zuko to finally get tired of standing and lower himself down to the ground beside her. They didn’t have their bed rolls, so it seemed sleeping while sitting up was the best option.

Orora was the first one to fall asleep. Her eyes had been drooping for nearly ten minutes before they finally closed completely and she drifted off to dreamland. Of course, not before her head fell to the side, landing on Zuko’s shoulder where it stayed for the rest of the night.

For his part, Zuko only blushed at the close proximity. It didn’t bother him though. He was beginning to find a lot of things concerning Orora that didn’t bother him. As he felt his own eyes growing heavy with sleep, he let his head rest against the leg of the table behind him.

Of course during the night, his head slowly slipped down to come to rest on top of Orora’s. But neither of them stirred an inch that night. Unconsciously drawing comfort from the others presence.

And during the night the thread between them continued to flicker with color.

                                            ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1

[givemea-dam-break]

heart's fury - prologue

book one: hope "prologue"

in which a story begins.

pairing: zuko x (fem) reader

a/n: hey guys! first part of my big zuko x reader, which was originally post on ao3 here! this is a brain baby created by my return to the atla fandom (first time properly being in the fandom since i first watched this as a child rip) and a need to write something for it which woooo! big moment since i had been in the biggest writing slump i've ever had before i wrote this. i hope you all enjoy the first part, and the following chapters, because i have so enjoyed writing this and continue to enjoy it! love u all <3

warnings: none

words: 838 heart's fury masterlist

There was something so idyllic about the southern seas in the early morning. The way the sun’s fiery light reflected atop the soft blue waves; the smell of salt and cold air mixing together; the distinctly freezing southern air that, somehow, could not permeate (y/n)’s thick jacket. She felt strangely warm standing at the bow of the ship, staring at the towering icebergs that the ship easily slipped between. She wondered how anything could become so large, so imposing, but she supposed it was part of the southern charm. The last she had heard, the Southern Water Tribe had dwindled in numbers. Fire Nation soldiers imprisoned their waterbenders decades ago and, though they were accustomed to the cold, not every child could survive in such extreme conditions. No outsiders, including the Fire Nation, had set foot in Southern Water Tribe territory in years. (y/n) could only imagine how sparse their population was. But they were persistent, these Southerners, like the icebergs. They had not let the Fire Nation get the best of them. 

“What are you doing out at this time?” a voice asked from behind. “It is far too cold and early.”

“Catching some peace,” she said simply. “My gut is telling me that today is going to be different.”

A hand came to rest on the railing beside her, old and weathered and gentle, but still admirably strong. Connected to the hand was, well, perhaps the only Fire Nation nobility she had been able to tolerate in years. 

General Iroh, now retired, had a kind face and a soft smile that she was sure would alone keep her warm if she had not been wearing her jacket. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, the wrinkles in his forehead, and the deepness of his smile lines did not age him but, rather, did the opposite. He reminded her of a mischievous - yet remarkably wise - child; one that could not be trusted alone with a basket of sweet treats. He shivered in his red robes, but he kept a firm grip on the icy metal railing.

“And why do you say that?”

(y/n) turned her gaze back on the icy path ahead of them. She had always trusted her intuition, knowing that it was a better weapon than her knives or even her bending, but she often couldn’t explain the reasons why she felt things. Maybe it stemmed from her childhood, some sixth sense she had developed by guessing what her mother would make for breakfast or which way her father would take her on his ostrich-horse to get to the Royal Palace in the mornings. Perhaps it was some semblance of a spiritual connection - one of Iroh’s stories that had taken root and given her a strong mind.

She wasn’t sure what her answer to his question should be.

“Just a feeling,” she said. She always said.

It seemed to be enough to appease Iroh. “We are nearing the south pole. I fear that my nephew will be let down once more.”

It was a justified concern. The reason they both stood on this ship, thousands of miles away from home, was a fruitless hunt, bred from punishment, shame, and a terrible lust for honour and, ever a self-centred royal, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation was determined to get what he wanted.

The Avatar.

Two and a half years the three, and a handful of Fire Nation soldiers, had been hunting the living legend down. It was a futile search - Fire Lord Ozai was aware of this when he had banished his son - but Prince Zuko was adamant. He had ordered them around the world in search of a man who had not been seen in a hundred years, and thrown a princely fit every time they did not find him. 

Iroh was right to worry. Prince Zuko’s sole ambition was to find the Avatar and restore his honour, taking back his rightful place as heir to the title of Fire Lord, but it made one wonder what would happen if he were to accept that the Avatar was unreachable.

Not that he would ever accept it.

“This isn’t the right path for him,” Iroh murmured. Despite there being nobody else on deck, he kept his voice low, leaning closer. “Capturing the Avatar is not the correct decision.”

He cast her a meaningful look, something in the wise, dark eyes sparkling as he turned and walked away, likely to make himself a cup of tea.

(y/n) breathed a sigh, watching the misty breath hover in front of her before dissipating. This was not the first time Iroh had hinted at the secret she kept close to her chest, clutched in iron fingers. If anyone else were to know, she would likely be dead by now. But Iroh shared her cause.

If they ever found the Avatar, wherever they were, she would fight tooth and nail to ensure Prince Zuko could never take them back to the Fire Nation.

<-masterlist chapter one ->

[almightyhamslice]

I also redesigned Opila Bird! I wouldn't call her "safe" but I would say she is one of the most functional mascots? In the sense that she views every living thing smaller than her as a child (or chick perhaps) to be nurtured and protected, and views every living thing larger than her as a threat to be attacked and neutralized. So, generally, it is safe for her to be around kids and small animals, but she will forcefully attack and attempt to kill most adults she encounters. She's kind of like a mother bear, I suppose?

She is flightless, but her bones are hollow compared to the other mascots so she is able to lift herself easily; she is a great climber. She is actually pretty good at helping stranded kids get down from playground equipment and high places, but she's also known to break holes in walls with her beak if there's no way for her to climb up naturally. Double edged sword, really.

She was probably meant to guard a daycare facility in the resort, though she'd have to be supervised all the time to prevent attacks. She is an animal (half Ostrich half Flamingo) but she understands the concept of deception and is capable of tricking adult humans into a false sense of security before attacking.

I imagine she was originally meant to be a standalone character but Tarta was introduced to her in an attempt to get her to be peaceful with entities larger than her. That sort of worked, she never attacked Tarta, but it didn't stop her from attacking humans (and it didn't stop Tarta from attacking smaller creatures initially, indicating that he would likely harm human children if in the same room as them).