#the tangerine one was inspired by that one part of the book

[tangybug]

bullet train characters + text posts (1/?)

[heartsforseo]

Strawhats with an author member

Summary: You're an author (you go by anon), and one day you ate a devil fruit. Now you can trap people inside your novels. (I think you BSD fans know where I'm going...) The straw hats found you and decided to invite you. (You said yes...cuz that's literally what this story is abt and cuz u were bored).

You live on a small island somewhere in the new world. You work as an author who goes by the pen name "S".

Usually, pirates would come to your island twice a month. The townsfolk were very friendly and you sometimes stepped in when pirates crossed over the line.

One day, you and your friend were hanging out in a small secluded alleyway. Your back was against the only entrance and you were facing your friend who was already opening the mystery novel.

"Good luck," you had said.

Your friend only nodded. Bright yellow light surrounded the both of you. When the light finally disappeared, your friend was gone, and the closed book fell to the ground. You picked it up and turned around, ready to leave the alleyway.

Your eyes locked in with a black one. A 5'11 man with a straw hat was staring right at you with mouth agape from amazement.

Your eyes widened, and you were about to open the book facing his way. But his arm suddenly stretched and took your book before you could open it.

"COOL!!! How did you do that?!" The guy wearing the straw hat asked.

"Shh, don't be too loud or the others will catch us," you walked towards the man, "they don't know about my ability. And I would like to keep it that way."

You took the book from the stranger's hand and walked away. The rubber man beside you said, "That's an awesome ability. How about you join my crew?"

You stop walking and look right into his eyes. "Crew? I don't know anything about you and would like to keep it that way."

The man only smiled back and responded, "Is information all you want? Well then, I'm Monkey D. Luffy, and I will be the king of the Pirates!" He raised both of his hands and made a fist. All this while smiling.

"King of the pirates? Don't make me laugh. Plus, I decided to live here for all my life."

"Really?? But don't you want to go on an adventure? I and my crew always go on fun adventures. You will never be bored!"

Before I could say anything back, a woman with long orange hair came up to me and Luffy.

"There you are! We're gonna leave in 2 days. Next time don't dash away and wait for us, Luffy!" The tangerine girl said.

The girl who was scolding Luffy finally noticed me and apologized. She then introduced herself and dragged Luffy by the ear. I watched the scene until they vanished into the crowd and walked off. I hope that my friend is almost done with the book.

I went to different places for inspiration. Being a mystery writer was no easy task. Especially if you only have a limited view. The sun was almost setting, and my friend was still stuck. My new story really did a poll on them.

I walked into Naty's bar and ordered a drink. Luffy's sentence rang into my head. An adventure? I wonder what it'll be like...My books had always sailed the sea, but shouldn't the author, too? No. Being a pirate is dangerous. My view may be limited, but my mind is not.

As long as I have a paper and pen, I can do anything...is what I would like to say. I took a few berries, placed them on the counter, and left the bar. Today took a sour turn.

A/n: This was supposed to be a head cannon but I accidentally made it as a story...so uh... ALSO PLEASE REQUEST IM BORED AF :((( part 2 getting posted...tomorrow? BTW WHAT SHOULD BE THE DEVIL FRUIT NAME BE???

[augustghosts]

Stake Out

Tangerine x fem!reader

This is just… this is just filth!!! I came up with this while i was sitting alone in my car eating mcdonalds lmao, i’m not sure what that says about me. Idk if this is even what Tangerine’s “job” entails but uh, inside my brain it apparently does. This is short but i’m already working on some more tangerine stuff, what can i say? he’s inspired me <3

also i didn’t proofread this soooo lmk if you spot any mistakes <3 hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: It’s a blowjob in a car, what can i say?. (so minors walk back out that door pls). Dirty talk and Tangerine being cocky blah blah Established relationship. Smoking. Swearing, of course.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Tangerine sighs beside her, adjusting his position in his seat. She tries her best not to stare at his thighs as his ringed hand settles on one of them. They’ve been sitting in this vehicle for the better part of 5 hours now, they’ve done longer jobs before, but never one as boring as this.

“You’re the one that signed us up for this.” She grumbles back at him. She’d been in a mood all day, but with good reason. At this point she wasn’t sure whether he was talking about not being able to take any more of the job or of her. He decides not to reply, he doesn’t want to argue with her in this small car and risk compromising their job. For the temper Tangerine had, he was mighty good at holding himself back when it came to her. And Lemon. He hopes that they consider themselves lucky.

He looks at her when he hears her rummaging around in her bag. She pulls out his pack of cigarettes, pulls one out of the pack and sets the pack down on her lap. She begins rooting through the glove compartment for a lighter.

“Give us one.” Tangerine holds out his hand.

“Fuck off.” She mumbles, she’s getting angrier as she fails to find the lighter. He isn’t even offended, in fact- he smirks as he watches her. She was so much like him, and he fucking loved it. He would never say that to her though, he doesn’t want to risk getting slapped. He digs into his own pocket feeling the lighter immediately.

“Looking for this?”

He snaps his palm shut when she reaches for it. He can’t help but think about how attractive she looks with the unlit cigarette hanging between her lips. Her eyebrows furrowed, the pissed off look in her eyes - one he was very familiar with. God, he wishes they were watching someone from a hotel room with a bed. Or a couch. Then he could have her right now.

He tuts, clicking his tongue and grasping the box out of her lap. He makes sure to brush the inside of her thigh with his fingertips as he does. He feels the muscle there tense. He takes a cigarette for himself and lights it before offering it to her. She goes to take it from his hand but he moves it out the way. She rolls her eyes and leans forward, letting him light it for her. He watches the way she inhales, her eyes closing.

“Asshole.” She mumbles as she exhales. Her eyes catch the way his hand that’s holding his own cigarette is hanging out the window. Why is that attractive?

“Technically, this is a company car.” His voice snaps her out of it. “We shouldn’t even be smoking in here.”

“As if you give a shit.” She says, “Besides, we have the windows open.”

“Lemon should have taken this job.” She continues. “He would have loved sitting here, he would have brought a book or something.”

“Probably,” He agrees. “But, I would much rather be sitting here with you.”

He finally decides that he’s bored enough to initiate something, his hand lands on her knee as he speaks. His signature smirk gracing his face when she turns to him.

“I’m not getting naked in this car.” She says sternly. His fingers caress her knee and begin to move upwards. Caressing the soft skin there as well - lightly. The contrast of warm skin and metal from his rings made her shiver. His other hand, still holding his cigarette between said ringed fingers, is hanging out the window.

“Did I say that?” He asks, his hand that was on her knee takes hers into it and guides her palm to his crotch. He knows it’s kind of selfish, but he also knows her too well. He knows she’s being serious in saying she will not take any clothing off inside this car where someone could see. She thinks for a moment, glancing over to the house they were supposed to be watching - it remains dark and still. She looks down at her hand resting on his clothed cock, and she looks back up at his gorgeous face.

Fuck it.

She stubs out her own cigarette on the dash - she’ll clean it later, and she cups his jaw instead. Prompting him to lean towards her and join their lips. She has to twist slightly in her seat, it's an awkward position considering her right hand was still pressing on his dick. She removes her hand and stops his protest by pushing her tongue into his mouth. She turns completely in her seat and goes back to work. His hand travels to her hair and slightly tugs. Her insides tingles as his fingers touch her scalp, it took almost nothing for him to get a reaction from her. The soft moan she lets out and the smirk upon his lips as they pull away tells her that he knows that.

“Hurry up then.” She whispers breathlessly against his mouth, gesturing to his belt. He takes the hint and hurrys to undo his trousers with a smile on his face. Bastard. The clinking of the metal almost makes her more impatient, his attractive hands pulling his even more attractive and semi hard cock out of its confines makes her mouth water.

“Hurry up then.” He jokes, mimicking her statement from before and guestring downwards.

“Watch it.” She mumbles, leaning over to kiss him again and wrap her fingers around his length. It’s her turn to smirk against his mouth as he takes in a sharp breath.

She moves to kiss his jaw as her hand works him. They’re lucky that this job required them to be in a pretty secluded area, she thinks - as she suddenly remembers that they are literally parked up on the side of the street right now. She takes one more look around, all clear, before whispering in his ear: “What do you want? You want my mouth?”

“Fuck.” He drags the word out. “Please.”

“I like hearing you say please.” She smiles, pressing one last kiss to his jaw before lowering her head.

“Fuck off.” He whispers, his hand coming up to rest on the back of her head as she takes him into her mouth. Her warm tongue teases his head and his hand tightens in her hair. “You look fuckin’ beautiful like this. Shit, look at you.” His voice is deeper now, spurring her on.

He lifted his hips slightly off the leather seat, holding back from thrusting into her mouth. His lips parting, his eyes closing as she started to properly take him inside of her mouth. She moaned around him, relishing in the rare sight of him practically trembling above her. She broke away for a second to take a breath, flattening out her tongue to brush his sensitive head on the way up. He jolted as she did so, cursing again. His hand on the back of her neck unconsciously pushed her back down when she took him back in again.

“Jesus, baby.” Tangerine practically squeaks, his voice tense. She loves being able to see him like this. So different to his usual demeanor - so beautiful.

“Do that again.” He pleads. She pulls back off of him and lazily twists her hand around his shaft. She leans up to press a messy kiss to his lips before sticking out her tongue and making her way back down. Tangerine watches her closely, panting and groaning beautifully above her.

“Are you gonna come for me?” She pulls away once more before going back to caressing him with her wet mouth.

“Fuck yes.” He groans, pushing her head down more forcefully this time. She lets him, loving the feel of his hand tugging at her hair. “Just like that, sweetheart.” He moans as he bucks his hips, the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat and the moan he lets out when she gags around him is downright sinful.

“Gonna make me cum baby. Let me see em’.” She knows exactly what he means. She pulls away for a second and begins to undo the first few buttons of her blouse, just enough for him to have a fantastic view of her chest when she bends down. And a fantastic view it is, the sight of her tits and the feel of her warm mouth around him sets him off. She moans around him when she feels ropes of his cum trickle down her throat. He flinches as she does - his cock sensitive, it makes him buck his hips and pull her off of him using the grip he still had on her hair.

“Oh my god.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair. She sits back up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and fixing her hair and shirt. He smiles wide as he watches her.

“You’re fuckin’ filthy.” He laughs as he begins to sort himself out and redo his belt.

“Me?” She reiterates, “It was your fucking idea! You’re lucky we didn’t ruin the job.”

“Well,” He glances over to the house they were supposed to be watching. “We might have because… his car is gone.”

Her head whips around so fast he swears it almost came off.

“Oh fuck! You fucking-“ Whatever name she was about to call him will have to wait till later, she’s interrupted when Tangerine’s phone stars ringing furiously. It makes both of them jump, they both stare at it. Knowing what was coming. Tangerine takes a deep breath before picking up the device and putting it to his ear - she watches as he doesn’t even get to say hello before he’s holding the phone away from his ear and cringing as the loud voice on the other side begins to yell. Shit, they were in big trouble. Worth it? Absolutely.

[haveatthee83]

The Princess and her Fool (Buggy D. Clown/Reader) 3/4

Inspo: TIMEZONE-MÅNESKIN

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: ~9.7k

Warnings/Notes: Cursing, canon typical violence (very minor), angst(?), flashbacks.

A/N: MÅNESKIN is Buggy coded, no I won't elaborate, all chapters are inspired by different MÅNESKIN songs. Hope you like this one! Thank you all for all the love on my fics! It's been literally amazing! I am like constantly checking my activity tab to see all the little likes, comments, and reblogs. I can't stop like squealing in excitement every time one of y'all interacts. It's literally one of the biggest highlights of my day. Thanks so much for reading!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You weren’t ready. Your mood dropped instantly as you saw the island on the horizon through your spyglass. Arlong Park. It was mere minutes away, really. Less than an hour. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you handed your spyglass over to Zoro next to you.

“Almost there.” You whispered, leaning against the railing of the ship.

“When are you going to tell him?” Zoro muttered, scanning the area with your tool. You quirked an eyebrow, “You gotta tell Luffy you’re leaving.” He mumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat, “Oh-oh…I’m not leaving.” You started, playing with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are.” Zoro scoffed, “You’re all goo goo eyed over that fuckin clown. You’re worse than the cook.” He jeered, nudging your shoulder.

You shook your head, heat rising to your cheeks, “I’m not going with him. I have stuff I need to do first.” You explained. “I’m here through Loguetown.”

Zoro nodded, handing your back your spyglass, “After that?”

“I’m going off with Buggy.” You admitted. “I told Luffy from the start that I wasn’t gonna stay with him permanently.” You mumbled with a sorrowful look in your eye.

Zoro sighed, rolling his neck, “You gonna be happy with him?” he asked, turning his head to look at you fully, “Cause if you’ll be happy, Luffy will be happy.”

You nodded softly, “He makes me a happier person.” You said, “I think I really love him.” You said it so softly that Zoro could have thought it was his imagination, but he knew better.

“Just…talk to Luffy soon. Don’t put it off or I’ll tell him.” Zoro said finitely, walking away from you, toward where Usopp and Buggy were arguing on how to best maneuver getting to the island.

“I will.” You promise to the wind.

Getting onto the island was easier than you all had thought, using Buggy as a guide through the thicket toward the park.

You and Buggy sat outside Nojiko’s small home in Coco Village, you were leant up against a tangerine tree and holding Buggy over your stomach, stroking his hair and quietly reading through the last chapter of your book, “-as the princess stood tall for her final stand, hand in hand with her beloved knight, she couldn’t help but smile wide, whispering to her beloved at her side, ‘I love you more than this world will allow, my dear. I cannot wait to hold you and love you without bound in the next.’.”

Buggy sank himself deeper into your hold, melting under your gentle ministrations. “You should braid my hair again, eh pretty girl?” he muttered as you finished the last chapter, the bittersweet ending a satisfying conclusion, but a heavy reminder of your circumstances.

You hummed with a small smile and set the book down on the ground beside you, “Okay, but I want to keep playing with your hair. Can I just do one little one?” you asked, raising Buggy’s head up to your face and planting a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.

Buggy scrunched up his face and wiggled it a bit, “I don’t mind, but damn, Doll. We’ve talked about the nose!”

You rolled your eyes and planted another kiss to his brow, “I remember talking about how much I love your nose, eh pretty boy?” you teased, running your hand through his soft blue hair. “So just let me love on you while I can.” You chastised, bringing him in for a longer, deep kiss on the lips, your thumb stroking his cheekbone right under his eye, his lashes brushing against the very tip of your finger.

Buggy nipped at your bottom lip as you pulled him back, making you huff out a low laugh as you settled him back in your lap, already separating a small section of hair from right behind his left ear to braid.

“I’m gonna miss you, Starshine.” He mumbled, relaxing into your touch.

You smiled sadly, pinching the braid in one hand and using the other to stroke the side of his face soothingly, “I’ll miss you too, Bugs.”

That night, you and Buggy slept under the stars, cuddled up close, his head resting comfortably under your chin.

When you and the other Straw-hats properly invaded the park, you and Buggy could feel the deep pull of anxiety as you both separated to find the rest of him.

After darting around a bit, you crested a hill and then he saw it. His body. It was strung up alongside some prizes in a game booth. You skidded to a stop, scanning the area to make sure it was clear, all the while, hugging Buggy’s head to your middle.

When you deemed it safe enough, you rushed over to the counter, letting Buggy float out of your grip as you got close enough. His head reattached to his neck and with glee he detached his hands and feet just long enough to free himself from his bindings, landing hard on the ground.

Buggy smiled wide, hopping over the counter and scooping you into his arms, spinning you for a moment. When he laid your feet back on the ground, you beamed, grabbing his face and drawing him into a deep kiss, his hands traveling over as much of your body as they could.

“Oi! Clown!” You and Buggy drew away from each other. It was Zoro. He was looking for Buggy somewhere nearby.

Buggy rolled his eyes but turned to you, “You sure you can’t come with me, Doll Face?”

Your heart dropped to your feet as you shook your head, “I can’t, Buggy. I…If I go with you now, I’d never forgive myself. I made a promise.” You said resolutely, “I’ll see you soon.” You whispered, nudging him to go.

Buggy nodded, “See ya, Sweet Cheeks.” He muttered quickly, pecking your cheek before bolting.

Zoro came around the corner, rushing to your side, “Where did that fucker go?”

You smiled and shrugged, “He had to go.” You said, boldly wearing his red kiss mark on your face, wiping at your stained lips.

The fight with Arlong and his fishmen had been difficult, not to mention those damned Marines, but you found the hardest part to be seeing poor Nami’s suffering. You wanted to find it in you to hate the younger woman for betraying you all, but you couldn’t. You understood duty and desperation, more than most.

So, there you all sat on the Going Merry, a fragile air of comradery on the deck. Your next stop was Loguetown. You looked out over the calm waves, glistening under the setting sun, and you couldn’t stop the little melancholy smile from spreading along your lips.

            Buggy missed you. He constantly found himself turning to the side to tell you some joke or snide comment only to be met with Cabaji’s face, not yours.

Buggy saw you everywhere. He found a stone on one of the islands he’d stopped on. It wasn’t anything super special, but it just happened to be a perfect color match for your eyes. Buggy had scowled at the stone, almost wishing he could explode it with his mind before chucking it back down at his feet into the incoming waves and stormed off. Only to immediately turn around, cursing the sky and sea and go to find it again. He had to make multiple attempts to grab it because the waves kept getting a bit too close or too high for Buggy’s comfort. It took him a half an hour to grab the stone again, but he did.

Cabaji had seen his captain’s antics from the ship but didn’t say anything. He did, however, note that he’d often see his captain with his right hand in his pocket, clearly holding onto something. Sometimes when Cabaji would come into Buggy’s room to communicate goings-ons of the ship, he’d walk in on Buggy tossing the stone in his hand, over and over. Sometimes he’d simply be holding it, staring at it, stroking its smooth surface with his ungloved thumb. Cabaji didn’t understand why he held on so tightly to the little rock. It would have made a good skipping stone, sure, but other than that, it was…just a rock. But nonetheless, his captain kept it with him. Cabaji often found himself breaking Buggy out of little bouts of daydreams, bringing the clown back to earth during meetings and rehearsals. Cabaji was concerned. What had happened while Buggy was with those Straw-Hats? Why was he so…different?

There was a crewmate on the ship that had the same hair color as you, and Buggy’d find himself whipping around on a dime, thinking he’d seen you, just trying to lay eyes on you, but of course, you weren’t there. You were at least three time zones away, sailing with those Straw-Hats. Buggy would scowl at the thought, crewmates flinching away from him. Buggy was one more sleepless night, missing the sound of your humming and feeling your fingers in his hair, from snapping and demanding his crew hunt the Straw-Hats down. All so he could finally have you to himself. The only reason he held himself back anymore was the conversation you’d had right before he’d had to run away.

“I can’t, Buggy. I…If I go with you now, I’d never forgive myself. I made a promise.”

Buggy’s jaw set at the memory, his thumb running over the stone in his hand, the candle next to him licking over his fingers and its dull scent wafting over him. He wasn’t mad at you per say. More so mad at the situation. He wanted you right there with him, lying next to him when he wakes up in the morning, cheering him on during rehearsals and shows, he wanted to teach you a few circus tricks. You seemed to already be good at knife throwing, just like him. Buggy often felt his chest swell with pride at the fact that you remembered how to do that, he had taught you after all.

Buggy kept having to remind himself that you didn’t abandon him, the opposite in fact. You wanted him, you wanted to be around him. You just had something to do first. Buggy could wait. Absolutely. He…could wait. Maybe.

Buggy frowned as he walked his way through the main town center. He had his eye out for one thing and one thing only, the bounty board. ‘God where is it?!’ his gaze roved over the square, finally landing on the patchwork bulletin board. Buggy shoved his way through the crowd, making a beeline toward it, only stepping on a few people’s toes. When he made it up to the board, his eyes darted over the board faster than he thought possible, finally landing on what he was looking for. You had a poster. You had a bounty of 8,000,000 out for you, alive. Buggy studied your face, looking for an inkling of a grin, but he found no such thing, only finding a look of disgust aimed at the camera, a snarl curling your face, your arm pulled back to lay a punch onto whatever unfortunate Marine had tried to get your picture. You hadn’t found it yet.

“Son of a bitch!” Buggy exclaimed, ripping your poster down and stomping back toward the docks, heading back to the Big Top. “Can’t catch a break, dammit.” Buggy mumbled and grumbled as he made his way through the crowded streets, shoulder clocking someone, “Watch where you’re going.” He hissed.

“Rude, Captain.” It was Cabaji. He held Buggy’s eye with a disappointed glower, “Permission to speak freely?”

Buggy was taken aback, “Uh, sure I guess.”

Cabaji nodded, gesturing for Buggy to follow him into a quiet alley nearby. When they were far enough away from the crowds to not have to call over the noise, Cabaji settled, leaning against the damp stone wall and frowned. Buggy stood across from him, hands in his pockets, one running a thumb over the rock. Cabaji noted this with a furrowed brow, “Captain,” he started with a sigh, “You’ve been…weird lately.”

Buggy recoiled, face scrunching in annoyance, “Fuck you mean?”

Cabaji rolled his eyes, pointing at Buggy’s hand, still in his pocket, “You’re holding onto a rock. Not gold, not a gem, some normal ass rock,” he stated, “You’re more snippy than usual, which is saying something, and you just don’t seem very…present.” Cabaji finished, fingers beginning to fiddle with the ends of his hair.

Buggy’s jaw clenched, but after a moment, he sighed, slumping his shoulders before slowly dragging his back down the wall, sitting on the cobbled ground. “I know.”

Cabaji’s eyes widened, “See! Even that’s weird!” he insisted, gesturing wildly, “You would usually throw a damned knife at me for saying any of this! What’s wrong?” He asked, crouching down to level with his captain. “What happened while you were with those Straw-Hats?”

Buggy scowled, ripping his ungloved hand out of his pocket, the stone in the center of his grip, and studied it as he spoke, “It’s not like they tortured me or something.” He started, causing Cabaji’s confusion to visibly grow, “I mean they weren’t nice obviously, but…” Buggy hesitated, finding his words. “One of them was.” He finally said, meeting Cabaji’s eye.

Cabaji blinked a few times, trying to process what that could mean, “How does that-“

Buggy cut him off, “It was Gale.” He spat, cradling the stone more. Cabaji’s mouth dropped open a bit and he sat down fully then, cocking his head to think. “She didn’t even know it was me, but she was…great!” Buggy continued, “She fed me, read to me, let me sleep in her bed, hell she washed my damned hair!” he exclaimed, squeezing the stone tightly. “And she likes me.” He mumbled, pushing his knees up to his chest. “She really actually likes me.”

Cabaji took a moment, unsure how to proceed, “Well, do you like her?” he asked awkwardly, fiddling with his hair again.

Buggy rolled his eyes with a huff, “The fuck do you think?” he snapped, holding up the stone where Cabaji could see, “I carry around this stupid rock because it’s the same color of her eyes, I have her bounty poster,” he continued, ripping the paper out of his pocket, shoving it into Cabaji’s lap, “And I still have this braid in my hair because she did it.” Buggy finished, tugging the small braid out of his bandana. “I’m fucking whipped!”

Cabaji couldn’t help but smirk a bit, “Sounds like it.” He chuckled, “Did you close the deal?”

Buggy felt heat rise to his face, eyes suddenly focused on the stone again, “I was just a head, so…kinda.” He coughed out.

Cabaji threw his head back in a cackle at that, “Holy shit, Captain!” he chided, smacking Buggy’s leg, “Still got it, huh?”

“Never really had it.” Buggy mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Cabaji grinned and unfolded the bounty poster in his lap and his brows shot up, “You bagged her?” he asked incredulously, “She’s fuckin gorgeous!”

“Hey! That’s my girl you’re talkin’ about!” Buggy hissed, snatching the poster. “But…yes. I don’t know how I did it.” He chuckled, looking at your snarled face in your picture.

“Where is she?” Cabaji asked, “She still with the Straw-Hats?”

Buggy frowned, “Yeah.”

“Let’s go get her.” Cabaji stated simply, “I mean if she likes you, I don’t think she’d mind.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“I have to wait.” Buggy explained. He saw Cabaji’s mouth open to ask why, but he cut him off, “She’s looking for something, Straw-Hat’s helping her. When she finds it, I can find her. We made a deal.”

Cabaji frowned, “Shitty deal.”

Buggy shrugged, “I’m not gonna stop her from doing what she has to do, I just…” he sighed, “I miss her, I guess. I want her here now, but I know I’m gonna have to wait.”

Cabaji nodded, mulling it over in his head before standing, extending a hand to his captain, “Let’s go. I’ll help with preparations for her arrival and ask some contacts to keep tabs on her, make sure she’s safe.” Buggy smiled softly, clapping his hand into Cabaji’s who hoisted him up, “Know where about she is?”

“Loguetown.” Buggy replied, walking stride for stride with the unicyclist, “That’s where her…thing is.” He explained.

Cabaji wanted to know what this ‘thing’ was but didn’t want to pry so he just nodded and kept walking. “So…” he asked, sunlight flowing over them as they emerged from the alley. Cabaji smirked a bit, “How’s she feel about the uh-“ he stopped himself, gesturing to Buggy’s face, especially the ‘center’ if you will.

Buggy’s eyes narrowed, “Shut the fuck up about my nose.” He growled, punching Cabaji in the arm.

Cabaji laughed, rubbing the sting out of the area, “Sorry, Boss. Curiosity killed the cat, you know?” Buggy rolled his eyes and kept walking. They remained in relative silence for the rest of the trek to the ship.

When they reached the ship, Buggy turned to head up to his captain’s quarters but hesitated, turning briefly to Cabaji, “She likes it.” He called, turning on his heel and getting back to work, all to the tune of Cabaji’s barked laughter.

Your eyes roamed over the expanses of Loguetown, clocking Marine after Marine through your spyglass. “This’ll be a close one,” you muttered to Luffy, “Crawling with Marines.”

“We’ll be fine.” Your captain said, waving you off, “We’ll get you your-“ Luffy cut himself off, sweeping the area, seeing you were both alone in the crow’s nest. “-fruit.” He whispered, “And then we’re off to the Grand Line! Easy peasy!” Luffy exclaimed, patting your shoulder.

You smiled at the boy, “We need a plan, Luffy.” You reasoned, resuming your sweep of the island from afar.

“Nami’s coming up with something, don’t worry about it!” he exclaimed, taking your spyglass out of your hands. Luffy’s smile shrank a bit as he closed it, “Zoro told me I need to talk to you.” He muttered lowly.

You pursed your lips, sighing deeply before guiding Luffy to sit with you, “Luffy. Do you remember our deal?” you asked, holding his hand.

“Which one?” he chuckled, “We have two.”

You huffed out a laugh, “Both, I guess.”

“Yeah.” He assured, squeezing your hand. “I remember.”

“I’m ready.” You explained, “I’m ready to go off and do my own thing, live my own life. I want to try and pursue my dreams now, all thanks to you.” You nudged his shoulder with yours before wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Luffy smiled wider, “You’re gonna go perform?” he asked, eyes sparkling. “Where?”

You bit your lips together before speaking, “You remember Buggy?” Luffy nodded, “Well…I love him.” You confessed, waiting for Luffy’s reaction before you continued.

Realization dawned on Luffy’s face, “Oh! That’s what that was!” he exclaimed, “I was wondering why you looked at him like that.”

You felt heat rise to your face at that, “Yeah,” you took a deep breath, “I want to go with him, and I told him I would after I found my…thing.” You explained.

Luffy nodded, taking this all in, “You want to join his crew.” He reasoned, wobbling his head side to side, “Okay.”

Your eyes shot wide, “Okay? Okay what?”

Luffy shrugged, smiling all the wider, “Okay, you can go. I won’t make you stay.” He explained, “Just don’t forget about us. Maybe visit every once in a while.”

You beamed at the boy, wrapping him up in a tight hug, “God, you’re such a good kid. You’re gonna be an amazing King.” The hug lasted for a good while, neither wanting to let go.

Luffy pulled back from the hug to look at you, “You said you knew Gol D. Roger?” he asked.

You nodded, “Yeah! Not for very long.” You said, “Remember how I was telling you about Cardinal and Peacock?”

“Yeah, Shanks!”

“They were still sailing with Roger when I knew them. It was a few months before they disbanded.” You elaborated, “So they brought me to meet Roger. I got to listen to his stories over dinner, and he let me onto the ship anytime I pleased while they stayed on my island. He even tried to get me to join them after he saw how well me, and the boys got along.”

“Wait.” Luffy said, cogs turning hard in his head, “If Cardinal was Shanks…the clown said something about sailing with Shanks when they were young.” He said, watching as your eyes widened in realization, “Would that make Binky Peacock?” he asked, beaming up at you.

You visibly flinched back at the thought, “Oh my God.” You whispered, “Buggy’s Peacock.” You shot up to your feet as you said that, beginning to pace as you spoke. “It’s been so long I couldn’t remember their faces, I only remembered Buggy’s eyes! Oh my god, it’s him!” you exclaimed. “Luffy!”

Said boy shot up with you, waving his arms around, wildly, “He’s your friend!”

“Oh, you beautiful, brilliant boy!” you squealed, picking him up and spinning him in an embrace, “We have to get that fruit now!” you exclaimed, setting him down. “Cause I gotta see Buggy!”

Luffy nodded with you, ready to climb down and tell the other Straw-Hats to hurry up the plans when he stopped, handing you back your spyglass, only a tiny grin pulling at his lips now, “I’m gonna miss you Clown Lady.”

You melted a bit, reaching out to hold the young boy’s face for a moment, “I’ll miss you too.” You said, a mischievous grin spreading over your face, “Call me when you’re king if you ever need a jester.” You chided, pulling him into a final hug, handing him something before descending to the deck below.

“So, I have Marine uniforms for everyone,” Nami stated, everyone surrounding her as she pointed to different points on the map of Loguetown and their Marine base. “We’ll sneak in here,” she said, pointing to a back way vent system, “And they’ll be keeping things like treasure and such here,” she said, pointing to a treasury room of sorts, eyes on you. “You’ll go there, Usopp made you a few bombs to blow open the vault door, okay?” you nodded, “As for the rest of you, we need to stock up, so I’m assigning you to-“ she trailed off in your mind as you stared at the map, trying to memorize it as thoroughly as you could.

“Then who’s with Clown Lady?” Luffy asked, pointing at you, “She doesn’t have a partner.”

“Yes she does,” Nami chuckled, “Me!” she exclaimed, “I’m gonna steal a bunch of their Berry for us, and see what else they’ve got.”

You locked eyes with her for a moment, nodding, “Okay, if you’re going with me, I’m gonna need to talk to you after this meeting, okay? Gonna explain what I’m looking for.” You said, her cocking a brow, intrigued.

The meeting wrapped up shortly after, everyone grabbing a Marine uniform and heading to other parts of the ship, only you and Nami remaining. You turned to the young woman and sighed, “Can I trust you?” you asked tentatively, Nami’s face scrunched in offense, going to retort, but you held your hands up and continued, “This is very important to me, and I need reassurance that you really are on my side here. I need to know you won’t try to take it.”

Nami set her jaw, still clearly a bit peeved, “I won’t take it.” She said, raising a hand to clear her hair out of her face, “I promise.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath, “It’s a Devil Fruit.” You explained, Nami’s eyes shot open, “It’s been in my family for as long as there’s been Devil Fruit. The Marines stole it during my father’s funeral, and I want it back.”

Nami nodded slowly, “Okay, but why?” she asked, “Like you don’t seem the type to want powers or something.”

You sighed, leaning against the table that still housed the maps you had been using, “It’s my duty. I have to eat it.” You explained.

Nami shrugged, “What happens if you…don’t?”

You blinked a few times, trying to process things, “I can’t let the Marines have it. It’s too powerful.” You reasoned. “It would only make their corruption worse. Nami, it’s called the Kaku Kaku no Mi, the Paint Paint Fruit. It can make soulless versions of living things, you just have to paint it. They could paint an army.” You explained.

Nami sighed, “Why does it have to be you? Why can’t you just, I don’t know, throw it in the ocean? Or keep it with us and we’ll put it on the top of some mountain, or we could find someone better to eat it.” She suggested, a soft look of concern on her pretty face, “You shouldn’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

“There’s too much risk in that, I mean, what if someone finds it in the ocean, or it washes up somewhere? If you guys keep it, what if you get raided, or worse targeted for having it.”

“Have you tried destroying it?” Nami asked, “We could burn it.”

You thought for a moment, “Would it come back if you burned it?”

Nami shrugged, “I’ve heard of it working but I’ve never seen it. If we do it on the ship, worst comes to worst, it’ll be on my tangerine tree, and you can eat it then. Just…wait?” she suggested.

Your mouth went dry, but you nodded, “I can wait.”

Getting inside of the base went much easier than you expected, you and Nami sneaking around effortlessly, you subtly laying a trail of ‘breadcrumbs’ in case you needed to find your way out that’s less dramatic than a window. The vault is on the third floor, after all.

When you reached the treasury room, you saw a large vault door, guarded by two young Marines, ‘Really? They put fresh meat on the vault?’ you thought to yourself as you and Nami walked up to them.

“Shift’s over boys,” you barked, hoping your age and tone of authority make them listen, “I don’t know what you did, but you pissed off Smoker big time. He wants you in his office, immediately.” The two young Marines straightened up in fear, eyes wide as they stammered, saluting you quickly before rushing down the hallway, away from you two.

Nami grinned, “You gotta teach me how to do that,”

“I’m just a very persuasive person.” You shrugged, digging in your pockets to find the low-level explosives Usopp made you, placing them along the corners of the door. When they were in position, you stepped back, arm out to make Nami move with you, other hand occupied by a dead man switch, your thumb indenting from the pressure of you holding it. “Cover your ears.” You said with a smile, letting go of the button.

BOOM, CLANG.

The door now laid flat at your feet, and you and Nami hurried in, Nami immediately shoving Berry and gems and gold into a bag she had brought, while your eyes scanned the room, landing on the large, colorful fruit, “There you are, you bastard.” You hissed, grabbing the thing and shoving it into your own bag.

“Hey! Freeze!” bellowed an older Marine from the other end of the long hallway, already calling on backup.

You grinned and stepped out of the vault, Nami right behind you, “Window?” you asked her, nodding to the large pane of glass next to you.

“Window.” She nodded, both of you stepping back before launching at the pane of glass, shoulder first, it shattered around you, both of you freefalling for a moment.

When you landed, Nami was a bit more graceful than you, rolling onto her back. You however hit the ground with a heavy ‘oof’, but popped up quickly, breaking into a dead sprint with your crewmate toward the docks. After a moment, you pulled something out of your pocket, a little cackle leaving your throat. Nami looked over at you and saw a remote in your hand, looking back when you pressed it, skidding to a stop.

BOOM

The marine base lit up in a chain reaction of explosions, ending right where you two had jumped out of the window, a rise of massive, orange flames.

“Usopp’s not the only one who’s been busy making stuff.” You exclaimed, grabbing Nami’s arm and resuming your mad dash to the dock.

“What if you hurt the others?!” Nami yelled, running right next to you, “That was stupid!” You shook your head, “You sent them to wings that wouldn’t have been hurt by the bombs, and they’re already out!” You called over the wind of your momentum, “Luffy gave me a signal!” you said, gesturing to a small transponder snail connected to your ear. “He’ll pick us up at the dock!”

Nami was befuddled, bewildered, amazed, “You really are meant to be with Buggy!” she yelled, a laugh breaking through.

Your cackle rose through the air as you spotted the dock, a certain rubber captain waving you over, ready to launch you all onto the ship. “There he is!” you yelled, pointing to the boy. “LUFFY!” you yelled, waving your arms to tell him to get ready. He grinned wide, readying his stance.

Just when you and Nami were stepping onto the dock, you saw something, a gleam out of the corner of your eye. It was a camera. You smiled wide as you ever had and saluted at the lens.

‘I’m coming, Buggy.’ You thought, heart fluttering.

“Okay, everybody!” Came the booming voice of your captain, Luffy gathering all of your attention under the night sky, “I have an announcement!”

You all gathered around him, chatter dying down.

Luffy smiled, “Today, we helped our dear Clown Lady achieve one of her goals.” He began, gesturing to you. A chorus of little whoops and whistles resounded with raised liquor bottles and smiles, “Now, I have to let her achieve one of her dreams.” Causing a few confused glances around the group. You smiled at your captain, your hands wrapped around the bag that sat in your lap, “Very very soon, our Clown Lady will be leaving us.” Luffy explained.

A look of understanding overcame your crewmates’ faces, “She will be joining another crew, following her heart like I tell all of you to do.” He said, his smile never wavering. “She will be missed, but I don’t want to mope with the time we have left. Let’s celebrate, give her a sendoff she’ll never forget!” He exclaimed to cheers, motioning to Nami, who popped up and quickly retrieved something, a metal barrel with branches and dry grass inside.

“Can I have a light, Sanji?” Nami asked.

The blond cook nodded, “Of course,” he said, taking his lighter out of his pocket, “Anything for my girls.” He said, lighting the flame and lowering it down to the dry kindling, watching it take immediately.

The fire took quickly, a bright orange tower of flames licking into the inky sky above.

Luffy called your name, gesturing for you to “take the stage”. You chuckled and rose, taking your captain’s position, him stealing your seat.

“I bet you guys have been wondering what I went to all of this trouble to find.” You began, nervously fiddling with the seam of the burlap bag you still had hung over your shoulder. “Well, here it is,” you said, scooping the large fruit out and holding it up for them all to see. A few shocked gasps resounded from Usopp and Sanji, Zoro only quirking a brow. “This was my father’s Devil Fruit, and his father’s, and his father’s and so on and so forth as long as Devil Fruit have been around.” You explained, looking at the colorful skin of this thing that has caused you so much strife. “I am meant to be the next in line to eat it, to keep it out of the government’s hands. But…” you trailed off, meeting Nami’s eyes, “I don’t think I want to.” You finally said. “I never wanted powers or anything like that. I just want to be…normal. Well, as normal as you can be when you’re a pirate.” You joked, a few snickers around the circle. “Nami suggested we try to burn it. See if that destroys it once and for all.”

Zoro frowned, “What if it doesn’t?”

“Then my one of my tangerines will become the fruit and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Nami explained, urging you to go ahead.

You took a deep breath, the sweet scent of the fire offering you a bit of comfort as you held your hands out, hands shaking as the fruit hovered above the fire. “I’ll see you in hell, you dumbass fruit.” You said, dropping it into the flames, cheers of your crew mates resounding through the air. The flames ate at the fruit greedily, charring the outside and peeling its skin. The flames kicked up and grew as if you had poured gasoline onto it. As the fire bit into the flesh of the fruit, the flames curled and writhed, heating up even more. The fire burned hotter and faster, consuming the fruit until nothing was left, not even ash.

All was quiet other than the fire as you all eyed the tangerine trees, silently praying that they would stay tangerines. After a solid five minutes, nothing happened and your eyes welled with tears, “I think…I think it worked.” You whispered, smiles growing all around the crew.

Luffy got up to his feet, bounding up to you, taking you into a swinging hug, “You’re free, Clown Lady!” he exclaimed as you sobbed into his shoulder, arms wrapped around him tightly.

You sniffled as he settled down, “I’m free, Luffy.” You whispered.

“Let’s party!” Luffy yelled, pulling back from you. “We got a lot to celebrate!”

Buggy had just docked at a new island, on track for the Grand Line, and frankly on track for Loguetown. He had practically leaped off of the ship when they managed to anchor, running to the town square as quickly as he could.

“Sir.” Cabaji said, pushing open the door to Buggy’s captain’s quarters, a grin he was trying to suppress on his face, “There’s been an explosion at Loguetown’s Marine base.”

Buggy went rigid, head snapping up to look at the unicyclist. “What?”

“I think she found it.” Cabaji said, “I’ve redirected us to the closest port so you can check.” He explained, letting the smile spread onto his face.

“Where is it, where is it?” Buggy mumbled, searching over the area to find the bounty board. “There!” he exclaimed, rushing to it. “Croc, me, Rubber boy, Sword fucker, the cook…” Buggy trailed off as his eyes landed on yours. Your poster. It was a new one, freshly printed. Your bounty had been raised to a clean 20,000,000. But what made him pause was your picture. You were in a Marine uniform, looking right at the camera, a bag strapped over your shoulder, something large and round inside. You were smiling with a little two fingered salute. A big beaming smile. You found it. You blew up a Marine base, and you found it. He’s in love.

Buggy smiled wide, snatching your poster off of the board, running straight back to the docks, “CABAJI! WE’RE GOING BACK OUT! SHE GOT IT!”

Buggy couldn’t drop his smile as he sat on the clown figurehead at the front of the Big Top. His freaks were perturbed, and kept checking on him, making sure he was okay, bringing him food. Buggy hadn’t sat up there in years, getting too afraid of falling off, but not now. Now he was sitting on the clown’s head, beaming.

Buggy laid back, arms behind his head and looked up at the stars, wondering if you were looking up at them too. He was having his crew sail through the night, impatient and ready to have you in his arms again. Hell, he didn’t even want to sleep. He wasn’t going to, but Cabaji practically dragged the clown into his captain’s quarters, violently tucking him in. Buggy thought he wouldn’t be able to doze off, but after a while longer of daydreaming about you, he slipped into actual dreams. Dreams of holding you and of quiet nights with you braiding his hair.

When he woke up, he immediately scrambled back onto the figurehead, using binoculars to try and spot the Straw-Hat’s ship. He had slept in, kind of by force, Cabaji not allowing anyone near the captain’s quarters or any loud noises all throughout the ship, all in hopes of forcing Buggy to sleep through the trip to where Cabaji’s contact said the Straw-Hats were anchored, presumably waiting for them.

So there Buggy sat, practically vibrating in excitement, eyes on the horizon. “You really are whipped,” came a voice from behind him, Cabaji coming up to sit beside Buggy.

Buggy scowled, “I’ll push you off.”

Cabaji barked out a laugh, “I bet you would!” Buggy rolled his eyes, “So, I thought I’d help you kill some time.” The unicyclist said, clapping his captain on the back, “Tell me something about your little Nightingale.”

Buggy huffed out a laugh, “What do you wanna know?”

Cabaji shrugged, “You take her on a date yet?”

Buggy shook his head, “Kinda did when I was fifteen, but I don’t know if it counts.” He chuckled.

“Whatcha mean?”

“Well,” Buggy began, setting his binoculars in his lap, “First off, we weren’t dating. Second, we didn’t kiss, and third,” Buggy lost the end of his sentence to a laugh for a moment, “we ended it by running for our lives.” He said, taking off his signature gloves, shoving them in his pocket.

Cabaji smirked, “Best dates do.” He said, nudging Buggy’s shoulder, “What happened?”

“Do-do you want to go see a play with me?” Buggy asked, wringing his hands in front of him, afraid to meet your eye.

You grinned and nodded, “Of course!” you exclaimed, “Is Cardinal coming or is it just us?”

Buggy slumped forward a bit, his whole face feeling like it was on fire, “I-I was hoping it’d be just you and me, Nightingale.” He stuttered out, “But-but I can ask if he wants to come if you want me to!” Buggy added on quickly, waving his hands in front of him, worried he’d made you uncomfortable.

You giggled, grabbing Buggy’s waving hands, “I’d like that, Peacock. Just you and me.” You said, giving his hands a quick squeeze.

‘SHE’S HOLDING MY HANDS!’ Buggy thought with a start.

Buggy melted a bit, knees a little unstable, loving your laugh and smile, “Go-good!” he exclaimed, “It’s a new play at the theater in the square, it’s called ‘The Princess and the Fool’.” He continued, still having trouble meeting your eye, “It’s apparently really good, I’ve heard tons of people talking about it in the markets today.”

“That sounds great! How much are tickets?” you asked, beginning to walk toward the center of town, still holding one of Buggy’s hands. Buggy’s heart skipped a beat, but he recovered quicker this time.

Buggy snickered, “You think we’re paying? You’re with a real-life pirate!” he exclaimed, jamming a thumb in his chest, “We’ll sneak in! Get into the best seats in the house!”

You laughed, “And where would that be?”

“The balcony, duh. I’m gonna get us into the rich people seats!”

“Oooh,” Cabaji hummed, “I see why you had to run.”

Buggy shook his head with a mischievous smirk, “Just you wait.”

When the two of you reached the heart of the island, you stopped, turning to Buggy, “Do you want to get some dinner first? Or do we have time?” you asked, scanning the area for food stands.

Buggy nodded, “If we get something fast, we can eat it during the show.” Buggy looked around before an idea dawned on him, “You-you can pick what we get!” he insisted.

You thought for a moment, still scanning the area, “How about some arepas from over there and some fries from that one,” you suggested pointing to the different stands, “and we can get some sodas from him!”

 Buggy nodded, already walking you two towards the arepa stand. “Sounds good to me!” he chirped, “You know these stands better than I do!”

You laughed loudly as Buggy practically dragged you toward the savory smelling stand. You waved at the happy, portly man who owned and ran it, “Hello Mr. Ricardo!” you chimed.

Mr. Ricardo smiled wide, “Hello, chicken girl!” he chortled, “The usual?”

Buggy turned to you briefly, “Chicken girl?”

You smiled and waved him off, “Two of em.” You said, “Make sure it’s all of the good stuff, my friend here hasn’t been here before.”

“Yes ma’am!” he jokingly saluted you, turning to grab a few of his arepas, placing them in wax paper and folding them in a way that made it easy to hold, handing them to you with a grin, “Here you go!” you took the food and said your thanks, reaching into your pocket for your stash of Berry, but Buggy beat you to it, slapping a few notes onto the wooden counter before dragging you to the next stand, you protesting the whole way, “See you later, chicken girl!”

“You didn’t have to pay for me!” you exclaimed, kicking Buggy in the knee.

Buggy’s hands went to cradle it, hopping on his good foot, “Let me be nice, woman!” he chuckled, “I wanna treat you tonight!”

You pouted a bit, “I feel bad though, you don’t have to waste your money on me.” You whined, kicking at some dust on the ground.

Buggy’s smile softened a bit, “It’s never a waste if it’s for you, Gale.” He said, taking one of the sets of arepas from you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off, “Now, I have two questions, one, what’s an arepa, and two, chicken girl?”

You sighed, walking with Buggy toward the stand you wanted the fries from, “Well, arepas are basically fillings like cheeses and meats inside of some special kind of flatbread.”  You explained, ripping off a piece of the shell of one of your arepas, holding it up for Buggy to try, “Here. Try some!”

Buggy felt his ears burn, but he relented, taking the piece you offered into his mouth, careful not to touch your fingers. Buggy liked it, the taste was basic but warming and almost buttery, Buggy hummed in approval, “That’s good.” He said.

You smiled, putting your hand at your side, “It’s even better with all of the fillings and stuff.” You explained. “And he calls me chicken girl because he never remembers my name, and one time I was helping another stall nearby and one of their chickens got out, so I had to chase it! It took all afternoon! I swear that thing was smarter than me!” you both laughed at the silly tale, coming up on the stand you were looking for, “Of course he remembers that and not my name.”

You waved at the new stand owner, holding up two fingers with a smile. She nodded and got to grabbing two paper cones, filling them with the crispy fries. You took them from her with a smile, and she motioned something with her hands. Buggy tried to give her a few notes of Berry, but she waved him off, giving him a wink. Buggy blinked for a moment, putting the money back in his pocket. You frowned and motioned with your hands, communicating something with displeasure. The stall owner simply stuck out her tongue, turning away with a smile.

You sighed and started your way toward the next stand, “She said she gave us fresh ones,” you explained, handing Buggy a cone. “She never lets me pay even though I try, says she owes me.”

“What for?” he asked.

“I babysit her younger sister all the time,” you explained, “she has trouble finding help.”

“Why didn’t she talk?”

“She’s deaf. Her whole family is.” Buggy hummed in understanding, grabbing one of his fries out of his cone with his teeth, hissing at the hot potato, “I go over to their house for dinner sometimes. They love me.” You chuckled, “They think it’s really cool I learned sign language so I could talk to them.”

“Is that what that was?” Buggy asked. You nodded, “You should teach me some.”

You grinned at the boy, “I’ll teach you a couple after the play.” Buggy agreed eagerly as you got to the last stall. It was actually a cart run by a young boy with one front tooth and a Marine’s cap with the ‘Marine’ crossed out.

“Brat.” You acknowledged the boy with a curt nod,

“Witch.” He nodded back, “Whatcha need?” Buggy looked between the two of you, bewildered.

“Two Tony’s please.” You said simply.

‘Brat’ nodded and dug two bottles of orange liquid out of some ice, setting them onto the counter, “Hundred Berry.” He said, a nod of finality.

You scowled, “I’ll knock out your other tooth, you little shit.”

The boy blanched, “Two berry.” He amended, rubbing the nape of his neck. “God you’re damned scary.”

You narrowed your eyes at the boy, “I’ll tell your mother you’re hiking prices and cursing.” You hissed, lowering your head to his level, “I know it’s only one Berry for two you ass.”

Buggy looked at you in shock, taking in your threatening aura with awe. He couldn’t help but think you’d make a damned good pirate.

You ripped a single berry out of your pocket, slapping it onto the cart and grabbing both bottles by the neck, “I’ll see you tomorrow, you little conman.” You said, knocking the boy’s hat off of his head. You hooked your arm through Buggy’s and started walking, “Come on, let’s go get our seats.” You insisted.

Buggy laughed loudly, “You gotta tell me the story there.”

You rolled your eyes with a frown, “He’s my neighbor. I have to watch him all the time for his mom when she goes out to fish, and he’s such a thorn in my side.” You explained, guiding Buggy to the theatre.

“Sounds like it.” He chuckled.

You motioned in front of you with your head, “We going in the front or the back?” you asked.

“What do you think?”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you sighed, walking the two of you around to the back end of the large building. Back there you found two windows and an employee’s only entrance. “Door or window?”

“I’ll try the door first,” Buggy said, pushing at the painted wood with no success. “Window it is.” He said, backing up to get a better look. “I think I can reach-“ “It’s a pull door, Peacock.” You chided, holding open the door.

Buggy blushed, “I knew that.”

As you made your way through the back halls of the theatre, you avoided workers effortlessly, often having to grab Buggy by the hand or the collar and drag him behind corners or next to a crate of some kind. At one point, you found a stray top hat, and put it onto Buggy’s head with a giggle. You quietly made your way up a set of stairs, finding a door that led to a low lit, patterned carpet hallway, “Must be the right way,” you whispered, “It’s looking fancy already.” You both snickered to each other for a moment before quickly making your way down the hall, finding a small set of crushed velvet curtains.

“After you, m’lady.” Buggy said dramatically, giving you a bow, top hat in hand and holding open the curtain for you.

You gave a deep, dramatic curtsy, “Thank you, m’lord.” You tried to hold in your smile, but you couldn’t, a grin splitting your face as you went into the little booth, grabbing Buggy’s hand on the way, causing him to drop the hat.

There was no one else in this particular booth, leaving the two of you alone, only two seats in the little closed off area. You both sat down quickly, settling in and situating your meals between you.

“Oh, here.” You whispered, grabbing one of the bottles of soda, “Lemme open it.” You quickly put the lip of the bottle cap on the balcony railing and slammed your free hand down onto it, the lid popping off and clattering to the ground. You held the bottle out for Buggy who took it eagerly. You grabbed your own bottle and opened it in the same way. Once it was opened, you leaned back in your plush seat and turned to Buggy, facing him fully, “This is my favorite drink. It’s only on our island, it’s a peach and mango soda one of our people came up with!” you explained, holding up your bottle. Buggy did the same, going to clink it against yours, but you wrapped your arm around his, “Bottoms up, Peacock.” You said cheekily, taking a sip.

 Buggy swallowed dryly before trying a drink of his own, enjoying the sweet flavor and the bite of the bubbles. “That’s good shit.” He muttered as you untangled your arm from his.

You nodded, pointing to the food he had in his lap, “Eat up! While it’s still hot.” You said, grabbing one of your arepas and taking a bite.

Buggy grabbed one of his own and took a bite, ‘Damn. All the food is so good here.’ He thought to himself.

“You know,” you said through a bite of your food, “I’m glad it’s just you and me tonight.” Buggy almost choked on his food, having to take a double take, “I mean, I think I’m gonna miss you the most, Peacock.” You muttered, taking another bite. Buggy swears up and down his heart stopped for a moment when you said that. He tried to say something, but you continued, “I think you’re really cool, and I hope I’ll get to see you again after you leave.”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Buggy couldn’t say what he wanted to, your attention stolen by the man on stage, announcing the start of the play. The lights went down quickly all around the crowd, a spotlight on the announcer, “Welcome!-“ Buggy tuned out the man’s spiel, eyes focused on you. Your eyes were wide with wonder as you watched the stage, completely enamored by the theatrics.

Throughout the first act, Buggy found himself looking at you for every reaction, every minute emotion on your face as you watched. You two saw the princess sworn off to a duke of a far-off land to stop a war, as a result she fell into deep sorrow. Her father, the king, saw this and sent his court jester to amuse her, make her laugh, but try as he might, she just can’t seem to even smile. Day after day the jester tried, and day after day the princess’s sorrow grew. Finally, she had enough, the wedding was days away and she couldn’t take it. She held a dagger over her heart, ready to take her life when the jester appeared. He stopped her and took away the knife, soothing her as she cried. As the act drew to a close, the jester gave a soliloquy about how he was falling in love with the beautiful princess, but he couldn’t hope to marry her for fear of execution, speaking as he wrote his thoughts into his journal alongside waxing poetics and jokes to try out, determined to make her laugh. The last scene of the act was of the king’s advisor finding the journal and opening it, when he did, you gasped and took Buggy’s hand in shock, giving Buggy a heart attack.

“Oh my god, Peacock!” you gushed as intermission began, “This is amazing!”

Buggy smiled, “Glad I got you to come.”

You still held onto Buggy’s hand, leaning closer to him, “I really hope they get to run away together.”

Buggy stiffened slightly, a lump forming in his throat “Do you think she’d go with him if he asked?” he said tentatively.

“Of course!” you insisted, “She’s clearly already falling in love with him, and she hates all her responsibilities in her home.” You scoffed, “Sounds like a dream come true to me.” You mumbled, resting your head on Buggy’s shoulder.

Buggy stared at you for a moment, hesitant, “Would you…would you want to go with me?” he whispered, his grip on your hand tightening a bit.

You went rigid briefly, “What are you asking, Peacock?”

Buggy swallowed his nerves, “Would you like to go away with me, sail with Gol D. Roger?”

You lifted your head, reaching your free hand out to cradle Buggy’s face, sorrow in your eyes, “I can’t.” you whispered, moving your hand to the back of Buggy’s head, threading your fingers in his hair. “I want to more than you’ll ever know, but…I have to stay here.” You said, bringing Buggy’s head close, resting your forehead against his.

“Why?” Buggy whined, watching as you winced slightly, closing your eyes.

“I’m my parents’ only child, and they’re getting old. If I leave, no one will be there to take care of them.” You reasoned, opening your eyes to stare into his, “If I could, I would sail across the horizon with you tonight.”

Cabaji scowled, “Sounds like she has a lot of shit with her parents and responsibility.” He said.

Buggy nodded, forlorn, “She’s loyal to a fault. Always has been.”

You and Buggy were interrupted by muffled voices in the hall behind you, making you pull away to listen to the intrusion, “What’s this hat doing here?” came a gruff voice. You and Buggy paled, eyes wide. “Check through those curtains,” another voice suggested.

The curtains pulled back, showing you a trio of uniformed Marines, “Fuckin asshats.” You mumbled, you two putting your feet on the ground slowly, readying to run.

“What are you little shits doing in here?” asked the tallest of the trio. The three immediately blocked off the whole exit, shoulder to shoulder. “C’mere.” The tall one commanded, waving you both over.

You and Buggy shared a look, but walked behind your seats, facing the men head on. “What do you want?” you spat, crossing your arms.

One of the Marines with glasses cackled at your abrasive attitude, “Feisty one, heh?”

The last of the three, a man with a patchy beard looked you up and down, a smirk on his face, “Pretty lil thing, aren’t cha.”

You snarled, about to speak when Buggy beat you to it, “Shut the fuck up, you nasty perv.” He hissed, stepping in front of you, moving you behind him.

Beardie scowled, “The fuck you call me?” he growled, grabbing Buggy by his collar, “Cause I know some freak with a fuckin pomegranate for a nose ain’t talking shit to me.” Buggy glared, grappling at the hand holding his shirt.

“Put him the fuck down!” You yelled, throwing a right hook against the Marine’s jaw without question, knocking him back. You grabbed Buggy’s hand and kicked beardie in the crotch, dodging away from the other two Marines, and sprinting into the hallway, back out the way you came in, dodging actors and technicians alike, practically dragging him through the theatre.

“GRAB THOSE FUCKERS!”

You two burst out of the building, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light change, but you plowed onwards, dragging Buggy toward the center of town again, weaving through the stalls. “MARINES!” You yelled out, “MARINES CHASING US!” Now, your island was no normal island. Your island actively chased out or maimed Marines who do anything other than be peaceful and buy shit. So much so, that the second you announced their presence, half the square pulled out a weapon of some kind, going after the trio that tailed you.

You slowed as you approached the fountain in the middle of the square, sitting on its rim, heaving for breath, “Damn, Peacock.” You coughed out, “You know how to show a girl a good time!” Buggy gave a sarcastic chuckle, sitting next to you, slumping into your side.

“I did have fun though.” You said through your heavy breathing. “We should hang out one on one more before you leave.” You laughed.

Buggy nodded with a laugh that turned into a coughing fit, “Don’t die!” you teased, patting him on the back.

Buggy flipped you the bird as he caught his breath, “Fuck you, Gale.”

You smiled and bit your lips, thinking. After a moment you nodded to yourself and leaned into Buggy, laying a peck on his cheek. Buggy’s face lit up beet red, sputtering, trying to find the right words to say.

You just laughed, laying your head back on Buggy’s shoulder, “Thank you, Peacock.”

Buggy sighed, fiddling with the binoculars in his lap, “I had to leave only a few days later. When I left, me, her, and Shanks all promised to see each other again, but we never were able to. Not until she helped that Rubber Fucker steal the map.”

Cabaji nodded, a genuine smile on his face, “She sounds like a good catch, Cap.”

“She is.” Buggy sighed, bringing his binoculars back up to his eyes, scanning to the left. “How much farther?” Cabaji laughed, and nudged Buggy’s gaze forwards, to the right. “Holy shit!” Buggy exclaimed, popping up to stand on the clown head, Cabaji following shortly, “THERE IT IS! SHE’S RIGHT THERE!”

“Let’s get your girl, Captain.” Cabaji said, clapping Buggy on the back before turning back and guiding the man onto the main deck again.

Shortly after, the ships pulled up next to each other and the Big Top laid anchor, Buggy’s crew slamming down a large plank to connect the ships, a chorus of curious murmurs echoing through the quiet space. Afterall, their captain had said nothing of a raid, and he wasn’t even wearing his hat and coat.

“After you, Captain.” Cabaji said lowly, gesturing for him to walk ahead. “Go get her.”

[babygirltangerine]

i often think about how the environment plays such a big role in the storytelling of the bullet train movie while also shaping the story itself, and all of the characters have such a unique way of interacting with their surroundings, with their belongings, and with objects in general. i'm also interested in the meanings they ascribe to these objects, so of course i have to make a post about it.

for the wolf, objects remind him of where he's been, what he's been through and what he's accomplished: we see his identity tied to the wolf pendant he'd been given as a boy, and he takes clothing articles from the people he kills (like the sunglasses, shoes, and hat) as he rises through the ranks of el saguaro's organization. it's also very meaningful that he wears his wedding suit to the train (and part of that is a belt that says mexico on it).

objects for tangerine signify who he wants to be - a lot of his identity management is wrapped up in portraying himself as polished, as wealthy, and as in control, and again, clothing and jewelry is a big part of this. also important to mention is his kleptomania and his compulsive need to accumulate as much as possible (which i interpret as a symptom of his growing up in poverty) and this is just one way the story clarifies that his image is an expression of desire and a crafted self rather than an authentic one. tangerine is constantly grappling for control and objects play a large part in establishing this theme, but objects are mostly in control of him, not the other way around.

objects for ladybug are tied to survival, not only for himself but for those around him. they're distractions and decoys, they buy time and disarm his opponents in intentionally non-lethal ways. he doesn't like guns. he doesn't like to kill, and he is incredibly resourceful in his pursuit of nonviolence. ladybug is in a constant state of damage control and the objects he chooses to discard or keep in his possession give him some sense of control over his bad luck.

objects for lemon provide a means of communication and a lens for understanding the world and the people around him. the sticker book objectifies the role thomas the tank engine plays in his life, and acts not only a reference for him to categorize personalities but also as a way to express his beliefs to those around him. percy sticker, diesel sticker, thomas sticker. i also like that objects for lemon tend to have protective qualities - the bulletproof vest saved him from the gunshots and tangerine's medallion saved him from drowning. when i rewatch the movie, i appreciate how this makes me feel like he's never in any real danger despite the massive target on his back as a black man ("i don't bleed").

objects for prince provide a way to get what she wants. she uses weapons - taser, rigged gun, explosives in the briefcase - and disguises to achieve her goals. she uses objects to manipulate people and paint a picture of herself as innocent and harmless. at the same time objects reveal her true nature, such as the shibumi novel she reads and the dangerous scissors-inspired hair clip. the hornet uses objects similarly. for her it's also all about stealth and weapons and disguises.

objects for shigeru relate to his past, the knowledge he's gained from it, his goals and his beliefs. thinking of the cane with the sword inside, how he fights with both, and the flowers - how he went into hiding and became a florist. we see him with flowers at various stages in his goal to get revenge on the white death (in the hospital room with wataru, as he boards the train, and when the white death has finally been defeated). when i think of shigeru and flowers, i also think of his trust in fate, the natural world and the forces of the universe.

for the white death, objects signify beginnings and endings. i associate the white death with his mask (again, identity management, the mask signals the birth of a new criminal empire and the emergence of its new leader) as well as the car he was meant to be in, and his robe and slippers. the beginning of his reign and the end of it, how objects symbolize his rise to power and the consequences he's now facing.

the importance of objects in the story can also be seen through the prominence of the briefcase, the water bottle, the rigged gun, the wolf's knife, and the tangerine and lemon truck, all of which serve a narrative purpose and have a presence in the story from the beginning to the end.

[mariacallous]

I’ve been thinking about a famously orange-skinned former presenter of trashy TV programmes, who lives on a luxurious coastal estate. He has a history of racist and Islamophobic remarks, of blaming asylum seekers for bringing disease into the country and ranting about the “supercilious metropolitan elite”. He swept into a rightwing political party and refashioned it in his image, presenting himself as the antidote to politics-as-usual, whipping up culture wars and using the platform to boost his planet-sized ego.

I am, of course, describing the British former politician Robert Kilroy-Silk.

After he was sacked from his presenting job by the BBC for a crudely racist rant in the Sunday Express in 2004, he joined Ukip (the forerunner of Nigel Farage’s Reform UK), energising it and captivating the media with his culture war polemics against the EU, immigrants and “the political establishment”. His unnatural hue inspired the viral video Mr Tangerine Man. But when Ukip could no longer contain his ego, he broke away and started his own political party in 2005, Veritas (widely dubbed Vanitas), which quickly crashed and burned. Thank goodness there are no such characters on the world stage today!

I could just as well have been thinking of Silvio Berlusconi, the satsuma-tinged TV presenter and culture warrior, who, like a certain other politician, went to extreme lengths to hide his baldness. He became the demagogic, rightwing Italian prime minister, seeking (successfully) to return to power after being ejected from office, despite a long series of sexual and financial scandals and criminal charges. Like Donald Trump’s, his loyal supporters somehow managed to overlook his moral repulsiveness, childish attention-seeking and love-in with Vladimir Putin, and saw him as the saviour who would make Italy great again.

Of course, there are differences between these people, but every time one of these characters emerges, we are nonplussed by them. We react as if we’re dealing with something new, and appear to have little idea how to respond. But there are patterns to the emergence of extreme-right demagogues: patterns that repeat themselves with remarkable fidelity. By learning and understanding them, we can better defend ourselves.

I’ve spent part of my summer reading Arno Mayer, the great historian who died in 2023. His book Dynamics of Counterrevolution in Europe, 1870-1956, published in 1971, could have been written about any of the rightwing populists we face today: Trump, Farage, Viktor Orbán, Benjamin Netanyahu, Narendra Modi, the leaders of Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) in Germany, the National Rally in France, the Brothers of Italy and – lately – Jair Bolsonaro and Boris Johnson.

Mayer’s descriptions of the demagogues of his period are uncannily familiar. These leaders created the impression “that they seek fundamental changes in government, society, and community”. But in reality, because they relied on the patronage of “incumbent elites” to gain power (think, today, of media moguls like Rupert Murdoch, Elon Musk and Paul Marshall, and various billionaire funders), they sought no major changes “in class structure and property relations”. In fact, they ensured these were shored up. “They need to revile incumbent elites and institutions without foreclosing cooperation with them.” So their project “is far more militant in rhetoric, style and conduct than in political, social and economic substance”.

For this reason, Mayer explains how rightwing populists expose and overstate the cracks in a crisis-torn society, but fail to “account for them in any coherent and systematic way”. They direct popular anger away from genuine elites and towards fictional conspiracies and minorities. They variously blame these minorities (whether it be Jews, Muslims, asylum seekers, immigrants, Black and Brown people) for the sense of inadequacy and powerlessness felt by their supporters; helping “humiliated individuals to salvage their self-esteem by attributing their predicament to a plot” and giving them immediate targets on which to vent their frustrations and hatreds.

The fake firebrands often, Mayer remarks,also issued “rampant broadsides against science” (think of the climate science denial to which almost all today’s rightwing demagogues subscribe), and against innovation, modernism and cosmopolitanism. They combined “the glorification of traditional attitudes and behaviour patterns with the charge that these are being corrupted, subverted, and defiled by conspiratorial agents and influences”. Hello JD Vance and Ron DeSantis.

The demagogues of Mayer’s period adopted a purposely “ambiguous position”, when people who might have been inspired by their claims committed acts of violence – both inflaming the attacks and distancing themselves from them. This might trigger memories of Donald Trump during the January 6 assault on the Capitol, Modi during anti-Muslim pogroms and the video Farage made after the Southport murders, which is seen by many people as bearing some responsibility for last month’s racist riots.

But there is one major difference. In Mayer’s era, the development of what he called “crisis strata” of disillusioned, angry men to whom the demagogues appealed was a result of devastating war or state collapse.The rabble-rousers were able to appeal both to angry working-class men and to anxious elites by invoking the spectre of leftwing revolution. None of these conditions pertain today in countries like our own. So how does the current batch of populists succeed? I think they are responding to a crisis caused by a different force: 45 years of neoliberalism.

Neoliberalism simultaneously promises the world and snatches it away. It tells us that if you work hard enough, you too can be an alpha. But it also creates the conditions which ensure that, no matter how hard you work, you are likely to remain subordinate and exploited. It has enabled the formation of a new rentier class, that owns the essential assets and ruthlessly exploits younger and poorer people. Young men step into a world of promises – to find all the golden doors are locked, and someone else has the key.

It is in the vast gap between the promises of neoliberalism and their fulfilment that frustration, humiliation and a desire for vengeance grow: the same emotions that followed military defeat or state collapse in Mayer’s time. These impulses are then exploited by conflict entrepreneurs. Today, some of these entrepreneurs stand for office; others, using opportunities that weren’t available in previous eras, monetise the anger, making a fortune through their social media outlets.

Understanding the tradition these demagogues follow, which long predates the rise of fascism in the 20th century, should help us to develop a more effective response to them. We begin to see this in Kamala Harris’s intelligent campaign, which, in contrast to Joe Biden’s, is starting to land heavy blows on Trump and Vance,drawing attention to their creepy intrusions on people’s private lives and their attacks on fundamental freedoms. If we want to anticipate and stop rightwing authoritarian rule, we should seek to comprehend its eerie consistencies.

[actualtays]

Her Odyssey: Character Creation

Welcome to Actual Tays, the blog where I (@taylorannnx) play solo games and write them down like I'm back in my teen days writing fanfiction. (Please note, none of this content is sponsored, I just miss writing fanfiction but also TTRPGs are my life now.)

Today we are starting Her Odyssey by S. Kaiya J, which is a solo journaling RPG powered by Caltrop Core (created by @titanomachyrpg).

Her Odyssey is a solo journaling RPG about a wanderer trying to return home - or find a new home. Built on Caltrop Core, this game allows you to build a rich world, create a character backstory, explore an ongoing adventure, or all three at once - with nothing more than a deck of standard playing cards and a handful of d4s.

As inspiration beyond the loose parameters of the game, I'm going to be using the Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks to help me with worldbuilding and inspiration for story elements. Will this game be cliché heavy? Probably, but you've been warned.

You can vote on which game variation I play with over on Twitter.

In Part 0 of this game, I will be creating my character by assigning stat points and answering the awesome "Who Is Your Wanderer?" prompt questions.

The Character: The Stats

In this game, you have 11 points to assign across three statistics: Vitality, Quickness, and Fortitude.

Vitality (fire; bodily strength and force of presence): 2

Quickness (air; cunning wit and dexterous body): 4

Fortitude (earth; steadfastness and self-belief): 5

The Character: Introduction

"My name is Alba Clarke, I use she/her pronouns, and I am looking for my husband, Peter Clarke. He is an officer in the tenth battalion of the fifty-first regiment. Have you seen him? I'm his next of kin and no one will tell me where he is."

The guard, in their dust-smeared tangerine uniform, pushed air disdainfully out from their nose but otherwise ignored the short woman standing in the ruined street before them.

"Please," Alba continued, clutching the grimy knit shawl around her shoulders as a gritty breeze began to pick up. "I've been walking for days. I left behind anyone who survived to find him. I need your help."

The guard shifted and raised a weathered hand to lift their neckerchief over their mouth. Their eyes seemed unfocused, resting on a disintegrating flyer clinging desperately to a downed telephone pole across the street.

Alba grumbled and kicked the deflated tire of a rusting green car as she turned away. The impact sent a shock up her leg, and she winced twice: once from the pain, and again from the embarrassment of the high-pitched squeak that surely did not escape the guards notice. Clutching the strap of the worryingly light satchel around her shoulder, Alba stalked off down the cracked pavements, careful not to trip on the weeds bursting up from the ground.

She thought of her husband, and of their home, a place of love and safety, now lost to intentional destruction and endless waves of the undead. The wooden stairs that had been lined with their wedding photos and post-it note reminders. The glass was all smashed now, scattered like caltrops on top of splintered steps that prevented anyone from reaching the top floor. The notes reduced to ash in an attempt to start a fire. She remembered the bedroom, bright and open with cream walls and large windows to curl up reading books. Now they were blackened with mould, and the windows had been taped up with cardboard, then taped up again to stop anything from seeing movement from within.

As the whistling of the wind swelled into a roar, the bang of a bin tumbling over startled Alba out of her thoughts for long enough to notice a shadow looming from behind her in the afternoon sun. She turned, and saw a familiar shambling shape turn into the road. Her chest tightened and her knees quaked as she heard the guard shout something into a walkie-talkie before retreating rapidly down an alley. Quickly averting her eyes, Alba quickened her pace away from the animated remains of her mother and on towards the next orange speck in the distance who might hopefully be a little kinder.

Reminder: You can vote on which game variation I play with over on Twitter.

[projectionproj]

'I need to make things. The physical interaction with the medium has a curative effect. I need the physical acting out. I need to have these objects exist in relation to my body.' Louise Bourgeois (quoted in Kellein 2006, p.16.)

Research Study the artist's life and style for inspiration.

Louise Bourgeois: The Spider the Mistress and the Tangerine (full film available on youtube)

Louise Bourgeois – Art to Read Series (book link – I had bought this one at Mass MoCA a while back)

Articles:

A Dangerous Method – Artforum

Spiraling into Louise Bourgeois's Inner Realm - Galerie

Texts - Louise Bourgeois: the return of the repressed - Exhibiciones | Fundación PROA

Louise Bourgeois, recognizing the self the artist's way, with Jason Smith | Art World Women

Bio from Tate

Louise Joséphine Bourgeois (1911 – 2010) was a French-American artist. Although she is best known for her large-scale sculpture and installation art, Bourgeois was also a prolific painter and printmaker. She explored a variety of themes over the course of her long career including domesticity and the family, sexuality and the body, as well as death and the unconscious. These themes connect to events from her childhood which she considered to be a therapeutic process. Although Bourgeois exhibited with the Abstract Expressionists and her work has much in common with Surrealism and Feminist art, she was not formally affiliated with a particular artistic movement.

Concept & Mood Board Create a simple concept for your installation & make a mood board for visual inspiration

Concept Ideas:

Project different Louise Bourgeois works on to a miniature scene set up on the desk in my small home office/studio space, using found objects from the space, and referencing some of the architectures of Bourgeois’ works and the aesthetic of her home/studio space

Emerging perhaps in part from my background in social work and past job providing counseling to young children living with parental illness, I want to work to understand and explore Bourgeois’ reflection of trauma and repressed childhood memories in her work

Group series of works thematically and juxtapose different forms

Mood Board Pinterest Including LB Visual references: Link

Mapping & Content: Choose 2D or 3D mapping and create content related to your choice.

2D mapping, with some additional exploration of using the projector as a light source to illuminate existing objects/structures

Content: paintings/drawings/sculptures from Louise Bourgeois’ body of work, as well as small sculptural elements that reference her work (wire recreation of her Maman spider sculpture, placement of clay carving tools to cast shadow mimicking Personages sculpture, books stacked to recall  Memling Dawn, small stone fire pit hanging wire to create space for projection of suspended sculptures, small toy chairs from my own childhood lit red to recall her work with C-project / Cells / Red Room, small stone fire pit to represent Nature Study – Velvet Eyes)

Equipment List and briefly explain the equipment you'll use, including your projector choice.

Vamvo 12400 (far from the most high quality projector, but this is the one I have at home at the moment)

Step ladder for stabilizing projector

Macbook Pro with MadMapper

Desktop surface in my home office/studio to setup scene

Found materials from home office/studio to create scene:

Newspaper collage box

Glass-domed display case

Spider bent out of black wire

Mini dollhouse chairs

Stone mini firepit

Mini canvas

Antique wooden box sewing set

Black hanging wire

Red/gold encyclopedia stack

Tools for clay sculpting and wooden sculptural toy base

Paper bag

Sunset lamp for underdesk illumination

Reflection

Representing the work of an artist like Louise Bourgeois, even in such a small way, is a massive task, given the extent of her body of work and the longevity of her artistic life. I think any number of pieces that I settled on, even if I had been able to project 100 works, would have felt minuscule and never close to fully representative of all that Bourgeois created. Between watching the documentary, The Spider the Mistress and the Tangerine and collecting and projecting imagery, I do feel like I've spent more time with her work and have more context for the pieces of hers I've seen in person at Mass MoCA, Storm King, and Dia Beacon over the years.

Practically/technically, I had some challenges with the fragility of the environment once the projector was set up, having to reset or adjust masks if objects shifted, etc. That made tinkering with the setup on the desk feel hard, and I found myself stuck at one point, not thrilled with the initial balance but not wanting to move things around and re-mask. I eventually did make changes to the physical environment, and am glad I did - even having to go through and re-arrange elements in MadMapper. There was a lot of testing, doing and undoing, to understand what kind of surfaces do and do not work well for representing images/light.

Representing or curating another artist's work in a way where they cannot consent and be involved in the process, especially with an artist who was often so protective of where and how her work was shown, certainly impacted the choices I made creatively, wanting to be sensitive to the original work and its varied contexts. Having watched the documentary mentioned above relatively recently, I found myself recalling Bourgeois' voice throughout the process.

Documenting projection work is also tricky, but it was nice to have the piece up for a while at home so that I could try different angles and lighting situations, etc. Projector quality is also something I'm thinking more about now, potentially wanting to invest in a higher quality projector for use in contexts like this and beyond.

Working through this project, I started to feel my own aesthetics emerging in projection, and in crafting balance in a scene, editing what to include and what not to include when there is so much to reference and still being able to get a sense of the thematics of a work.

Lastly, completing this project while having COVID was certainly its own challenge, given my fluctuating energy levels and body/brain temperatures, but it was a good exercise in breaking creative work down into discrete tasks and production planning.

[star-shooters]

Gold Gemitaurus: Backstory and Sketches

Gold has numerous brothers, a handful of sisters, and a few siblings. Yet, she was always around Saffron Gemitaurus, a brother who shared a love for a book series Star Shooting Cowboys. Though having two different shades of gold, the two were inseparable and shared the same pure iron dust within their cores. The two managed to continue being close even with Saffron's duties in the army.

During a mission, Gold loses Saffron to a Darkening, a shapeless being that preys on Stellars and Stars. She is traumatized by Saffron's gruesome death and her first Darkening killing. It took some time for her to accept that Saffron wouldn't return, even with the shattered remains of his core in her possession.

Decades after Saffron's death, Gold joins the military to fight off the Star's enemy, the shapeshifting and conniving Darkening, in honor of her brother. Gold holds on to Saffron's remains in a bag, keeping the bag onto her armored uniform as a reminder of her late brother's existence. Despite having numerous siblings, Saffron was the only one that Gold was closest to and shared similar hobbies.

Only being the age of 23.5 centuries old - 2350 years - a young adult to her species, Gold hasn't reached her full potential as her powers and abilities continue to grow each decade. Many believe that she is the creation of Stellars Tangerine Gemini and Dandelion Centaurus, but her lineage is anything but normal. Gold has an unnaturally strong core, which many suitors sought after, and severely high levels of iron dust within her circular center.

Below are some of Gold's abilities:

Photokinesis - A common power for the inhabitants of Stellaron. Without a vessel, the body, a hard-light body is created but leaves the celestial being vulnerable to outside forces. Depending on their natural strength, the uses of this power may be limited. However, for Gold, her photokinesis is stronger than average but has yet to utilize them without a vessel.

Pyrokenesis - A natural ability in the inhabitants of Stellaron and its use frequency depends on their secondary dominant power. It also depends on the flammability and volatility of the dust within their cores. Gold has yet to tap into her full potential. So far, she could start fires and expel bursts of flames to deter enemies.

Magnetism - A common power for ferromagnetic inhabitants of Stellaron and its strength depends on the amount of material held in their core. Gold has an unnaturally strong magnetism that pairs well with her metal manipulation abilities. When bored, Gold will hang off of ferromagnetic cliffs or dangerous edges that scare others. So long as she has enough energy, Gold could magnetize to anything for however long, until her energy levels deplete.

Metal Manipulation - An uncommon power for ferromagnetic inhabitants of Stellaron where its strength depends on the being's magnetism ability. Gold utilizes this power to fix her spotty armor, certain parts of her apartment, or during battle. Depending on how energized she is, will depend on her ability's strength. So far, Gold rarely uses this ability compared to her other powers, she believes that manipulating metal can only go so far when she hasn't mastered it yet.

Detachment - A power that is formed with corrupt coding of the absent coder, Capri Corvusopeia, in hopes of forcing Gold to join an army of others like her. Thus far, Gold was not given the full code, having been saved by her oldest brother Bone Gemitaurus, who she was inspired to get the coding in the first place. Unlike other coding, Emotional Suppression, Detachment is the absence of all emotions and in its place is pure logic and focus disregarding any and all consequences. Her lack of normally green hair is due to the Detachment coding replacing that specific branch; meaning that to remove the coding would affect her physical form.

Self-Destruction - A natural ability in the inhabitants of Stellaron. For Stars, this ability is utilized voluntarily, drains enormous amounts of energy to detonate, and results in death. For Stellars, this ability is only used when they wish to create more Stellars, Astrals, and results in, not only death, but immense destruction. But for Gold, this is her trump card ability when all else fails. She has yet to find a need to use this ability, only reserving it for a last ditch effort to save others by sacrificing herself.

They are the powers Gold uses when she's not holding herself back. Not all of her powers are listed, Gold is still growing stronger and has yet to reach maturity. This slow maturity causes her Stellars, Dandelion Centaurus and Tangerine Geminorum to be very protective of her, trying to keep in contact as often as possible while maintaining their shared domain.

Gold finds her Stellars overbearing and escapes their attention when she formed Star Shooters. As a result, Gold doesn't have a good relationship with her Stellars. That is not to say that Tangerine and Dandelion hate her. Instead, they worry about the truth of her identity coming to light and the outcome when reality hits, which may come sooner rather than later.

For the time being, Gold is oblivious to her true nature and identity. She has much to learn and grow to be able to be as strong as Saffron.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is a breath of fresh air and bam loves you.

> fluff / wc: 3.2k

> warnings: jungkook gets his knees scraped and bruised T_T

note: hello :] these are actual events from my dream two nights ago (for the most part) so here you go 😭 feedback is always appreciated ^_^

—

they used to constantly ask you this question in every class: what is your biggest dream or desire in life?

and you still recall many of the answers you’ve heard: to travel the world. to see the northern lights. to climb mount everest. to own a mansion. to build the biggest mall in the country. to build a big happy family. to become an engineer. to become famous. to meet [insert a role model slash life-long inspiration]. to make my family proud. to invent the most accessible flying car the human population has been expecting since the ‘90’s. to marry my soulmate. to discover new species of animals so my name could be in the educational books forever.

everybody in the room has been planning their future around their ultimate dreams. everybody in the room knows what they want and what they must do to achieve them. they are following a process. ticking off the boxes on their list. tracing the footsteps on the map they designed.

everybody.

what is your biggest dream?

to breathe. it sounds tragically ridiculous to think about, much more to say out loud. why would you dream about something so . . . bare minimum? but swear to god, it’s the only thought that forms in your brain when the question is asked. to breathe.

your entire life, you’ve been holding your breath. the black smoke blowing on your face during the morning commute. at school where you’re surrounded by the most lively and lifeless people you’ve ever met. it’s draining and suffocating.

at work. your manager yelling right on your face. you hold your breath in and squeeze your eyes shut. the ride back home. the same black smoke. the fear and exhaustion radiating from the person next to you. a text from an unknown number reflected on their phone screen. pay your debts or i will expose you on social media and file a case.

they sniffle. and you hold in your breath. it’s none of your business. you shouldn’t care. you have your own problems to deal with. you hold in your breath to numb it all down.

“my sweet baby, you work so hard.” jungkook says to you lovingly, tightly embracing you close to his body. he gently rocks you back and forth, soothing the wooziness clouding your head.

with your face nuzzling against his chest, you breathe him in. the fresh smell of laundry. light and floral. it reminds you of youth. ah, and the natural scent of jungkook. milk. honey. faint tangerine from his afternoon snack. your home.

your paradise is jungkook’s embrace. in your head, there are no walls boxing you in. in your head, there is only a field of flowers that has no end in sight. the grass tickles you as the wind softly sweeps over the earth. as if it blows for the sole purpose of caressing your cheeks because the sensation lingers. but you want more. and so you let it carry you off the ground and you walk on the air, skipping through transparent stepping stones.

his lips ghost over your forehead, uttering the words you never thought you needed to hear. “do you want to get away for a little while? with me?”

you pop one eye open, and then the other. bam makes an entrance to the living room, holding a toy between his teeth. being tall enough to do so, he drops the blue dumbbell rubber toy (jungkook obviously chose the design, thought it’d be funny. became bam’s favorite overtime) on your lap. you blink at him, and he blinks back, smiling at you with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

you look up at your boyfriend with sparkling, pleading eyes.

“and bam? please?”

—

and that’s how you ended up here, five days later. laying on the couch watching sugar rush on netflix. it’s currently 3pm and you finished your first meal of the day not even an hour ago. which is understandable, given that you fell asleep at five in the morning. just like yesterday. and the day before that. you’ve established a new routine since you arrived in the rest house with jungkook and bam three days ago.

wait, house? more like mansion. with a swimming pool. and a basketball slash volleyball court. oh, and how can you forget the gym a few feet away from the kitchen when your boyfriend has been spending a lot of his time in there?

when jungkook said i know a place, you imagined a small cabin. or a resort by the beach. not a beautiful mansion in the middle of nowhere.

not that you’re complaining, though. you’ve been having the time of your life doing absolutely nothing productive.

it was only yesterday afternoon when . . .

jungkook gasped as soon as he entered the house.

“hi.”

“i thought you passed out!”

you turned to your side. with hooded eyes, you looked at him standing infront the glass doors. “i love it here. the floor feels so comfortable.” a sigh of pure delight escaped you. the first one in months. “it’s cold. and clean. and cold.”

his eyes darted to the air conditioner directly blowing on the spot of the floor you’re currently laying on. he approached you with a brief shake of his head, chuckling lightheartedly. “baby, come here. get up. you’ll get sick.”

“that’s just a myth- noooo-” you whined when your body got lifted off the floor, engulfed by the body warmth of your boyfriend who immediately picked you up instead of persuading you further.

“there’s a perfectly comfortable living room, baby. you can lay here, too.” he carefully laid you down the couch, your head perfectly placed over the soft square pillow. your hair formed a halo over your head, and the sight made his heart swell in his chest. he bent down to pull you in for a sweet kiss.

“i was perfectly happy being a starfish instead of a couch potato, you know?” you muttered against his lips.

he bumped his nose against yours with a smile playing on his lips. “how about being a starfish in the pool instead of the floor?”

you pushed his chest lightly with a scoff. “you know i can’t swim.”

“love, it’s only five feet deep.” he laughed, already picking you up to carry you in his arms again.

you grunted, evidently displeased. you were actually getting comfortable on the expensive couch. “are you really just going to keep carrying me to wherever you want to go?”

“ey, come on. bam is waiting for us outside.” upon the mention of his name, you tried to look for him through the big windows as jungkook walked. your eyes caught him laying by the big umbrella beside the pool.

and that’s where bam is again today. except instead of laying down, he’s zooming around the pool and the front yard chasing your boyfriend who made it his daily mission to burn calories while making his beloved dog happy at the same time.

you love playing with bam, too. you’re the lazy parent, though. you sit on the grass and throw a toy as far away as you can, and you wait for him to give it back to you. you make him guess which hand is hiding his special little treat, the left or the right one. on the days when you have more time to spare, you play hide and seek. uh yes, you’re the one hiding.

to be fair, you still exert some energy. as a matter of fact, you also find tug-of-war pretty fun. however, as he’s growing older, you’re scared that you won’t be able to stand a chance against him anymore.

you take a glance at jungkook and bam through the windows every now and then, especially when you hear laughter or barking. you start wondering if this is what peace truly means. usually, when something good happens, you get so overwhelmed with emotions. your heart aches and doubles, triples in weight until you feel it in your stomach. you confuse happiness and sadness, until it strings along guilt because for the love of god, why can’t you just take the fucking win?

but today, your heart feels light as a feather, your body light as air. this is exactly what you needed - to disconnect from reality. to spend special time with your favorite person. and favorite dog. to hear the chirping of the birds and the rustling of the leaves. to inhale fresh oxygen from the trees instead of black smoke from vehicles. to feel that you belong someplace in nature’s design.

but most importantly, to clear your head from the anxieties brought about being a member of the society. at this moment, the only floating thought in your brain is: how the fuck did they do that? referring to the fashion-inspired cakes made by the contestants in the baking show called sugar rush. the first cake shown is a detailed couture dress with intricate beading and carved patterns. on the other side of the kitchen is a gown with beautiful floral designs and bright pastel colors for the marbling of the fondant.

look, you were getting bored of crime documentaries yesterday. you clicked on sugar rush for shit and giggles because of the stark contrast of brutal murder cases with colorful desserts. but you’ve become far too fascinated with the art and science of baking to not finish all four seasons, including the separate christmas edition one.

“LOOOOVE!” jungkook’s whiny voice echoes through the house as soon as he arrives in the living room, bam following him idly with his tail wagging.

“whaaat?” you mimic his tone, eyes still focused on the television.

adamant on getting your attention, he rolls up his pajamas up to his thighs to block your vision with his knees. “i tripped by the pool. i’m bruised and bleeding.” his lips form a pout even while talking, eyebrows furrowed due to annoyance. hurting himself wasn’t exactly in the agenda today.

you immediately sit up on the couch and pause the show, and he waddles closer so you can inspect his injuries. his right knee is bleeding, and a big bruise is forming just a few inches below it. you’d say his left knee is fine, except it looks like the bruise will be worse than the one on the right.

given that your boyfriend is a dancer, seeing his knees with bruises isn’t new. but these bruises didn’t exactly come from dancing, did they?

“baby, wash it with mild soap under running water first while i get the first aid kit.” you tap his hip affectionately, urging him to hurry to avoid infection. his doe eyes watches every movement of your lips before he nods his head obediently.

he leaves for the bathroom while you head to your shared bedroom. bam becomes torn about who to tag along with, but eventually, he catches up to you.

he purposely brushes his fur against your legs to ask for attention. “hi, bamie. did you have fun today?” you scratch his head while your other hand is busy rummaging through your duffel bag.

he leans into your touch, moving closer to rest his cheek on your thigh. “did you get scared when daddy tripped? it must’ve scared you.”

he tilts his head, as if he’s trying his best to understand your words so he can formulate a response. “the both of you, i don’t think you understand your strength. you still lay on our lap like when you were a little baby but you’re almost as tall as me now. ah, and if i try to carry you, i’ll break my spine. i miss carrying you.”

he licks your thigh happily, his own little way of showing affection. for some reason, he really enjoys it when you talk to him.

“thank fuck.” you mutter under your breath when you finally fish out the first aid kit from the depths of your bag.

you continue talking as you and bam walk back to the living room. “and your dad . . . he got scared of himself yesterday when he jumped so hard on the trampoline he almost got thrown out. hah, i know you saw that too.”

you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your laughter when he barks as a reply. bam is always on your side.

however, your laughter transitions into a betrayed gasp. “how can you watch my show without me?!”

“oops.” jungkook smiles playfully, comfortably laying on the space you previously occupied. and watching the show you were previously watching.

when did it move on to episode 8 if you weren’t even done with episode 7 yet?

“move.” you mumble, lightly bumping your knees against his calves. he folds his legs to allow you some room to sit, then he extends them again over your lap.

“blaque and patty’s dress cake won in the last ep.” he puts you up to speed as compensation. “the first round just started. they need to make coffee flavored cupcakes. i think.”

you hoist his knees closer to your face. “coffee? i don’t really like that flavor.”

upon seeing what you are meant to tend to, you swiftly grab a gauze pad from the small box. with a sigh, you press it firmly on his right knee in an effort to stop the bleeding. “baby, you really scraped it. it won’t stop bleeding.”

he winces, sucking air in between teeth. “fuck, it stings. i haven’t scraped myself in years.”

you frown, not used to seeing him like this. the mere sight of him experiencing minor inconveniences affects you as well most of the time, which is funny because you know every human experiences them. ah, you know it all too well. but it simply feels unjust when it comes to your lover.

you lean down to lightly kiss jungkook on top of the fresh bruises forming on his skin. “i love you. just watch the show.”

your affectionate gesture tug at his heartstrings. if this was an anime, he would have pink fluttering hearts for irises.

he reaches out to tuck the hair covering your face behind your ear. “i love you. i promise i’ll be more careful tomorrow so you won’t have to clean more wounds.”

you roll your eyes, setting aside the used gauze pad on the table. of course he’s still going to run around for the rest of the week. you silently pray that he forgets about the volleyball game you promised him yesterday.

bam perks up from his spot on the floor when he senses your movement, and he jumps on the opportunity (literally) to squeeze himself on the couch. he ends up resting his head on jungkook’s shin as he attentively watches you use a second gauze pad to stop the bleeding.

“atleast only play on the grass so it’s a soft landing.”

your advice makes him laugh out loud. “okay. only on the grass from now on. i’ll be good.”

minutes later, your boyfriend has already invested himself in the silly little baking show you discovered yesterday. he’s most probably making mental notes as he watches the professional bakers work in the kitchen. he does search for recipes in the internet when he cooks, but he mostly just wings the measurements and experiments with adding more spices or ingredients.

“ah, measurements are really important in baking. so many things can go wrong if you don’t follow them.” he says his thoughts out loud, mouth slightly agape in realization.

“i learned that yesterday too.” you giggle. you remove the gauze pad to check if his knee is still bleeding, and you sigh in relief when you see that it has finally stopped.

you and bam make eye contact as you take out the antibiotic ointment from the box. you give him a half smile, and he wags his tail enthusiastically in response.

you carefully spread the ointment on jungkook’s wounded knee using two fingers, briefly looking at his face incase you’re hurting him.

yeah, no. his mind has flown very far away from his hurt knees. he’s far too mesmerized by the magic of the cake land right now.

there’s that spaced out look on his face again. so adorable that you feel so endeared and you want to pinch his cheeks. look, you know he’s almost six feet and super strong. but he has the perfect combination of sharp and soft facial features that just throws you off. there’s his defined jawline contrasted by the supple skin of his rosy cheeks; his perfect eyebrows contrasted by his sparkling bambi eyes. he is so pretty and flawless in your point of view. so much so, there are days you think he can never do anything wrong and then there’s also the days you find him intimidating.

on this day, however, as you tape a gauze pad over his scraped knee, there is only the devotion you have for no other soul in the world but his.

“all done. i’ll just change the gauze again later before we sleep.”

he observes the neatly done treatment of his wound, tilting his head. “hmm, thanks, baby.” he hums appreciatively. “it feels a lot better now.”

“be more careful next time, okay?” you glare at his black slides on the floor. “and stop running wearing those!”

“okay, okay. i promise. when did i ever not listen to you?” he grins, very much used to your ardent scolding. he sits up to gently pull your face close, planting a wet kiss on your lips.

his grin remains when he breaks away, his eyes falling to bam who is quietly giving the both of you a tranquil gaze.

“bam, good boy.” jungkook strokes the dog’s head tenderly, which makes his eyes close in satisfaction.

“you know, bam looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. he loves you.”

bam has occupied a special place in your heart since day one, and you can’t imagine a home without him in it anymore. god, you never knew how much you needed to hear those words until today. you feel the warmth of joy spread to your lips and even to your fingertips.

the next words to escape from jungkook’s lips come to steal the breath from your lungs.

“let’s get married someday.”

he looks down and plays with your fingers, pulling himself together after blurting out the thought that’s been spiraling in his head for months.

“me, and you, and bam. we’re a family now, right?” he gains the courage to meet your eyes, a hopeful look painted on his face.

you nod your head in agreement, swallowing thickly to prevent yourself from bursting into ugly tears.

your voice comes out soft and quiet. “yes, we are. so let’s get married someday.”

he bites his lower lip to contain his happy smile, spitting out another idea he’s been dying to ask you. “so do you think it’s a good idea to add a cat to the family?”

you both look at the big dog comfortably curled up against the corner of the couch, fast asleep after spending most of the day outdoors. “bam is nice, but i also think he is capable of either accidentally laying on the cat or purposely pushing it off the couch.”

his smile drops, replaced by a big pout. “so is that a no?”

you look at him blankly. “yeah, no.”

“huh? yes or no?”

—

taglist! @lolalee24 @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @i9hyuck @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @yoonqki @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @youreyestells-winter

[cutest-bunny-writings]

Could you write bts reaction to seeing you in lingerie please ?

Bunny.exe has stopped working.

Rebooting...

Retrieving files...

Opening files...

I'M EXCITED!🤩

Enjoy!🥰

Notes: When Namjoon uses the word "bae" he is actually calling the reader the Korean word for "pear."

I apologize that some of them are super short.🙏

Warning: slight NSFW

💟

---

Kim Namjoon:

(Book Store AU)

"Joonie?" You poked your head out of the bathroom to see your nerdy boyfriend immersed in his book.

"Hm?" He didn't even look up from the book. Must be at a good part then.

"Does this look good on me?" You stepped out of the bathroom in a juniper lace bodysuit, matching silk ribbons tied on your thighs and neck.

Namjoon was not expecting that when he looked up. You looked mouth-watering. "Bae, you look so beautiful. Can I?"

You knew he was referencing being allowed to get a close look at the bodysuit and most likely squeezes your thighs. "Go ahead." You walked over to stand beside the bed as Namjoon kicked his legs over the side.

"Hm." He hummed in consideration, spinning you around slowly and feeling your body.

You felt Namjoon's hand gently massage your thigh, pulling you to straddle his lap.

"So pretty." Namjoon kissed the side of your neck and you let out a tiny moan.

Kim Seokjin:

(Chef AU)

This was absolute torture for Jin.

You had decided to come out to the kitchen and eat dinner in your new lingerie. This combined Seokjin's favorite things into one.

He was feeding you, watching you eat, and you were wearing lingerie while at it.

The lingerie in question was a pretty pale yellow you had picked out earlier today, a satin two-piece.

"Hm, Biscuit, you're such a tease. Want some rice?" Seokjin held a pair of chopsticks up to your lips.

You accepted slowly and gently, looking at Jin with half-lidded, heavy eyes. "Thank you, Jinnie." You lightly moaned.

You watched Seokjin's pupils dialate dramatically as he watched you eat.

"You look so beautiful." He slid his hand along your thigh slowly. "But you have some rice on your lip."

You knew that was a lie but accepted the kiss and giggled into it.

Kim Taehyung:

(Flower Shop AU)

"Hold still, Princess." Taehyung adjust the flower stems in your hair.

You did as told and patiently waited for Taehyung to finish what he was doing, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

An outsider would think that this was a promotional campaign for Taehyung's flower shop. Wrong. This particular photoshoot was just because your Tae-Tae was feeling a bit lustful and inspired which doesn't happen that often.

You were laying on top of the bed, a small flower grid hidden underneath your hair with the flowers going through your hair. You had on a silk tangerine slip, the thigh slits going just passed your hip bones, marigolds scattered throughout your hair and secured to the grid.

Taehyung left a trail of kisses in his wake. Your temple, your cheek, your neck, your chest, the final one planted on the inside of your thigh with a light bite.

Taehyung stood up and positioned his camera, "look at me, Princess," he called with a voice thick with lust.

You looked up at him with only your eyes, head still tilted to the side, cheeks tinted slightly from Taehyung's antics to make you photo ready.

Jung Hoseok:

(Clothing Designer AU)

"Let's go with this ribbon for your waist." Hoseok was picking out materials for your new lingerie and nightgowns.

"Hobi, what color is it?" You asked looking in the mirror as he approached.

"Only the best artic blue available." He looped it around your waist, tying it into a simple but pretty bow that rested on your stomach.

Hoseok leaned down and kissed your ear. "My little duck, you're so cute." He ran his hands up and down your sides slowly.

"Hobi, these are expensive materials." You leaned back into his wandering hands, letting them feel you through the thin silk.

"Only the best for my favorite girl." You felt him leaving a hickey on your shoulder.

Min Yoongi:

(Caf�� AU)

"Calm down, you animal." You lightly smacked Yoongi's chest.

You had been checking yourself out in the full-length mirror in the bedroom when Yoongi walked in.

Currently, your boyfriend was leaving marks all over your body and chanting "mine" like it was a mantra preserving his life.

Punch pink two-piece lingerie making you look slightly dishevelled but you don't mind.

"You look so beautiful like this. Even have this pretty lace on your neck." He hooked his fingers under the lace and pulled you up gently to bring your lips together.

Jeon Jungkook:

(Tattoo Artist AU)

"Aw, Marshmellow, you're so cute even when you're trying to be sexy. Don't get me wrong, I still think your sexy but good God you look so cute and I want to corrupt you." Jungkook sat in the chair in the living room, leaning back with his hands over his head, looking almost too comfortable.

You were wearing a white low-cut slip that was decorated with pearls.

You slid onto Jungkook's lap and he immediately started running his hands over you.

His hand came up to back of your neck, the other going to knead at your hips. "You'd look so pretty with some ink and piercings." He whispered just beneath your ear, kissing softly.

"I like my temporary tattoos and maybe some piercings later." You crooned at Jungkook's roaming touch.

"My little marshmellow likes keeping her options open I see." He lavished your neck in soft, open-mouthed kisses while you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the line of separation between the undercut and the rest.

Park Jimin:

(Celestial Beings AU)

"Dove, I think Aphrodite would be very jealous if she saw you like this right now." Jimin sat on the end of the bed, bare chested.

You sat between Jimin's legs, face pressed against one of his knees, gazing up at him lovingly, your's and Jimin's wings enveloping you both.

You had a kind of bad day so you put on your favorite lingerie before complaining to Jimin about it.

He pet your head gently. "I'm sorry you had a bad day, Dove. How can I make it better?"

You turned your head into his hand, watching him lean down to kiss you, then being hoisted up by your waist to sit on his lap.

The satin boysenberry slip riding up your thighs and slightly exposing your butt, to Jimin's delight.

"Pretty doves shouldn't be subjected to such awful manners." Jimin leaned to lay backwards on the bed, spreading out his wings in the process and fluffing his feathers.

His hands came around to hold your butt in his hands, gently kneading the skin. He liked watching how your feathers puffed out and turned so fluffy when he did it.

You leaned down to him. "Well you do have the entire next mortal century to treat me like the queen of your Olympus." You ran your fingers through his feathers, making him shiver a little in delight.

-------------------------------------------------------

My asks and submissions are always open!

I love you, my fluffies!🥰

[sashi-ya]

{+18} – Cherry Blossom & Tangerines – Trafalgar Law x Y/n – Part 2

Modern AU. Living in Seoul, Sk. Trip to Jeju Do (Island). Everybody is alive. No spoilers. Female reader. No physical descriptions. Everybody is +18, canon ages. Chopper is human.

Tw: anxiety, fear of flying. No further tw warnings. Mostly SFW. Nami x Vivi & and some ZoSan.

A/N: The AU is inspired on Jeju Island, SK. I've made some research on cute places from there, such as touristic attractions and coffee shops. Even though, it may not be 100% accurate, so keep in mind is mostly inspired♥

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31059467

Word Count: 4K

» List of parts: {P1} {P2} {P3} {P4} {P5} {P6}«

Chapter 2. “Law?!...” I said surprised. “Y/n-ya?...” he asked, also surprised, but before I could say anything else, Luffy came running through the aisle and hugged Law, and I came to the conclusion that he was, indeed, Zoro and Luffy’s friend.

I moved my stuff out of the way, and after he got rid of Luffy, Law helped me to put my backpack on the overhead locker and then sat next to me.

I remained silent for a little bit, waiting perhaps for him to talk, but he didn’t. The flight attendant announced the takeoff was about to happen, so we fasten our seatbelts as the plane started moving. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and I could see how he seemed a little bit nervous. I thought it was my imagination, but when the plane gathered a little more speed through the runway, he began to breathe faster.

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut and I had to ask, “Law, are you ok? Are you feeling bad?”. He directed his gaze at me with blushing cheeks, and after a few seconds, he said “Y-Yes. I just tend to get a little nervous during the take off, but I’m… ok”. Poor thing, he was trying to cover his heavy breathing… “Don’t worry, it's completely normal, would you like me to hold your hand? You can squeeze it as much as you can”, I said kindly, keeping my cool just for him to see how it wasn’t a big deal, and nothing to get embarrassed of. I placed my hand, palm up, over the armrest that separated our seats and waited for him to hold it. He doubted a little bit, but he finally did it, first softly, still ashamed, but then firmly. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon, try to focus on your breathing”, I guided him, with a calm speech, and looking directly into his deep grey eyes, smiling kindly. He slowly calmed his respiratory frequency, and a few minutes after the plane was already flying at cruise level, he sweetly let go of my hand. Our palms were a little sweaty, but I couldn’t care less.

“T-Th- Thanks…” He said, looking at the floor. “Don’t worry, you saved me three times the other day, now I owe you only two” I said, winking an eye at him. Law smiled a little, but kept looking at the floor. I was about to point out the fact that he was Zoro’s friend when Nami peaked through our seat backs saying “Oi Torao, you finally decided to come with us!! You normally don’t go anywhere, I’m glad you separated from your books for good!... Oh, and you two must know each other, right Y/n?” she said pointing at us, “Both of you study at the same U and are becoming doctors soon”. Vivi who was next to Nami began to giggle covering his mouth. Suddenly I realized that both of my friends already knew who Law was, and began to suspect that for some reason they wanted to perhaps pair us up.

“I know him from other circumstances”, I said smirking at them, but with an underhand expression of “I’m gonna kill both of you for not telling me”. Law smiled at them, but didn’t say much, and the girls returned to their seats.

“So, your surname must be Trafalgar, right? I thought you were a Donquixote…”, I asked him. “Yeah, is a long story…”, he said with no emotion at all, and I realized it wasn’t a good topic, so I changed the curse of the conversation. “Oh, you were the one who was complemented by Dr. Marco? You are amazing, doc!”.

“Uhum, but I’m not that good. Dr. Phoenix is just an amazing teacher”, he replied. “Indeed, he is”, I said. The small talk came to an end when the flight attendant offered us something to drink. I opted for a glass of plain water, and so did Law. He then grabbed a manga from his little bag, and began to read. “Maybe he doesn’t wanna talk to me…” I thought, put my air pods on and turned on the music. Some minutes after I regretted not having any sleep last night, as my eyes were trying to close...

The voice of the captain announced over the speakers that we will be arriving on Jeju Island in a few minutes. I was being lazy to open my eyes, as I felt extremely comfy sleeping in that position… until I realized I had my head - and almost the right side of my body - over Law’s shoulder. “Oh my… I’m sorry!” I said gaining composure and sitting properly on my spot. Law gave me a smile with kind eyes, and said “Don’t worry, I was asleep too, I used your head as a pillow, I didn’t want to wake you up, though”. Behind us a few laughs from the girls were heard, and I asked, confused, “You… what?. But the landing was already happening and the cabin crew asked us to prepare, so I decided to shut my mouth. I gazed at Law to see if he needed any help with the landing, but he didn’t seem as scared as he was with the taking off.

We all descended the plane, waited for our luggage and headed to the car rental picking point. I’ve booked three cars, so we distributed perfectly on each one. Franky picked the blue Hyundai Venue. Usopp, Chopper and Brook went with him. Law chose a yellow Hyundai Sonata, of course he would, he looks so cool… Zoro, Sanji, and of course Luffy followed him. I chose the white Tucson, for me and the girls.

We left the airport and drove through the streets of Jeju, admiring the beauty of the cherry blossom trees and the yellow flowers on the side of the road. Law’s car was behind us, and sometimes I spied through the rear mirror, just to see his face fully concentrated on the road.

I asked Nami to put the GPS for me, because our Airbnb was a little bit remote from the center and I was afraid of getting lost. The girls and I sang the whole drive to the songs the radio was playing.

We finally reached the house. It was just as the photos, a white two-story house, big enough for all of us. The beach was next to our patio, the typical style of grey rocks of Jeju Do garnished the entrance and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore with a few seagulls squawking made the whole atmosphere unique.

I gave the entrance code to Robin and she opened the door. Luffy entered first running excited and went directly to the garden to see the beach. We followed him, pretty excited too. Inside, the house had a minimalistic style, everything was white and the floor and furniture was made of light wood.

There were four rooms, so the guys distributed in two of them, Robin and I went to another and we let Nami and Vivi have a room for them. We took turns to use the shower and got ready to explore the island right away.

Sanji suggested that we should go first to Dongmun traditional market to buy fresh ingredients for him to cook for us. He became a professional chef a few years ago and works with his father Zeff, on his well-known restaurant, “The Baratie”. His cooking skills are heavenly, and he loves to cook for us, so we agreed immediately.

We arrived after a 10 minute drive, the market was extremely busy, the food stalls offered a variety of typical korean dishes, kimbap, tteokbokki, tteokgalbi and fresh and canned ingredients, such as typical fishes from the island and the famous kimchi.

Luffy, as always, drove by the smell of the delicious food, ran desperately inside and tasted every single sample the sellers offered to him. Nami, Vivi and I, decided to try the famed tangerines of the island. Nami, who is an expert on tangerines, would give us the final verdict on if they are good as people say. The juicy mandarin slices we tried were exquisite, the sweetness mixed with a little bit of tartness made us want to buy bags of them.

I saw Law approaching us, he had separated from Zoro’s group who were trying the variety of Sojus. I called him with a big smile and some tangerine slices on my hands, “Law!! Come here, you should try this!”. He came closer also with a little grin. I stood on tiptoes and said, “Open your mouth!” and without any shame I offered him a big juicy slice of mandarin. He opened his mouth surprised, but accepted the fruit and while taking it, his lips softly touched the point of my fingers. It felt almost as if he was kissing them, or for a moment I wished it was the case… A little drop of juice ran from his mouth through the commissure of his lips, so I immediately rubbed my thumb over it to clean it. He fixed his eyes on mine, and for a few seconds it seemed as if the rest of the world stopped existing around us. He swallowed up the fruit and thanked me still without taking his gaze off me. The moment broke when the old lady at the tangerine selling stall asked us if we wanted a box or a bag for the fruits. I turned to her, and saw Nami and Vivi looking at the lady wanting her to shut her mouth. My cheeks thanked the interruption, though, because they couldn’t get any more flushed.

“A box would be great, thanks!” I told the seller. Law carried the box himself, and we reunited with the rest of the group.

Sanji had already gathered everything he needed, Zoro had bought his alcohol provision for the next few days, Luffy had his face completely stuffed with some meat, Franky had a cola on his hands, Brook a milkshake, Robin a bag of tangerine tea, Chopper of course some candy cotton on both of his hands and Usopp was eating some type of ramyon. We left the market and headed to our temporary house to leave the provisions and decide the plans for the afternoon and night.

“I want to go to Bomnal Cafe, I heard they serve delicious pastries! Can we go there?” suggested Chopper. “We can go there for the afternoon, and then have a picnic with a bonfire at the beach for the night. What do you think, guys?”, I proposed. “BONFIRE! BONFIRE! Sanji, you could also make some barbecue!!” screamed Luffy, excited, and everyone agreed that it would be a great idea.

Some of us headed to the coffee shop, while Sanji, Zoro, Law, Usopp and Franky stayed at home to prepare everything for the night.

The little coffee shop had a minimalistic, all white and grey, and maybe a little vintage atmosphere. We ordered a few pastries, puddings and lattes that tasted exquisite. We sat by a big window that let us admire the beauty of a little garden with cherry trees and a little pond with some fishies swimming peacefully. We were making stories for Instagram, taking photos, having fun. “Oi, Y/n, pose for me!” said Nami and took a photo of me with her iPhone. I didn’t have time to pose properly, so it was a pretty casual photo of me drinking a matcha latte. Brook insisted on me posting it, because he said it was cute. Chopper and the girls agreed with him, so I uploaded it to my Instagram.

Suddenly, a new notification popped up on my screen, “@DrHeartSteeler liked and commented on your photo”. “Hey guys, do you know who is @DrHeart…” I was asking them while opening the notification and realized it was no other than Law. “@DrHeartSteeler > Beautiful… place. Can you bring me one of those when you come back home?”. I hadn’t had the chance to say anything else when my friends began to make a fuss about the comment. “WHEN YOU COME BACK HOME?, Torao what the fuck?” said Nami laughing out loud. Chopper who was a little innocent, started asking why everyone was laughing, and it only fanned up the flames that were blushing my cheeks. “Yohoho… I guess you have to bring him “home” a matcha latte, Y/n, he probably misses you already…” mocked me Brook. Robin, who is the most mature of all of us, simply laughed and looked at me with kind eyes.

“Stop it guys, he is just asking for a latte…” I said, fanning my face with my hand. “Oh, yes, of course. He wasn’t even following your account. Before we left home, he asked Vivi for your user, right babe?…” said Nami and Vivi nodded with her mouth full of chocolate cake. I didn’t want to show the excitement I was feeling on my insides, so I simply replied that he probably wanted to follow me because he was already following everybody in the group. We decided to come back before the sun set, so we could see it on the beach and after buying Law his tea, and some pastries for the guys we left the pretty tea room and drove home.

“Guys, we are home! we brought you some pastries!!” I said, while carrying the papers bags, and Law’s latte on the other hand. Everyone came running to me and grabbed the bags, while Law, who was sitting on the couch reading, looked at me above his manga, as if he was waiting for me to say something. I tried to act cool, so I said “And oh, uhm, Law your matcha Latte. I hope it’s the right size for you”. He smiled at me, left the book on the armchair and stood up. He walked towards me slowly, I didn’t know if he was trying to be sexy or it was just how he was… Because he certainly was, only using black with yellow spots, swim shorts and a yellow open shirt, that let me admire his tattooed chest and abs.

“Thanks, Y/n-ya. When I saw your picture, I craved for…” he made a little pause, and continued while grabbing the plastic cup, “some matcha latte”. Well, now I crave... you… I thought. I gave him a look from head to toe, and said smirking “It’s nothing, now I only owe you only one favor, so, you tell me if you need something more”. “Mh... I’ll keep it in mind”, he said with his low sexy voice and a little side smirk. I smiled at him and went upstairs.

I threw myself on the bed and sighed loudly. My heart was racing, my lower parts were feeling funny and the sexual tension I’ve just experienced was too much to handle for me. “How hot he is, damn it”, I expressed out loud covering my eyes. “Who is hot, Y/n?” asked Zoro, who apparently was entering my bedroom to ask me something. I almost had a heart attack, but calmed myself down and asked him what he needed. He told me that we were getting ready to go to the beach to prepare the picnic and watch the sunset and if I could bring some blankets. I told him ok and he left my room laughing.

“I came here to rest, and I’m getting more stressed than during finals”, I thought, annoyed, while gathering for a few blankets and pillows to bring to the beach. I headed downstairs. Everybody has already left the house and I could see them walking towards the beach from our patio. I was about to leave and closed the door trying not to throw the blankets I had in my hand, when someone scared the hell out of me. “Oi, you almost let me locked in..., let me help you with that”, said Law who was still inside. “God… Law, you scared me… what are you doing? I thought I was alone…”. “Sanji forgot the salt shaker, I returned to bring it to him”, he calmly answered. “Oh, I see… Well let’s go” I said, still breathing fast from getting scared, and handed him a few blankets to help me carry them.

The chilly sea breeze kissed our cheeks, and the sound of the beach began to fill my ears. I was wearing a long silky dress that danced with the wind, as well as my hair. The sun was going down, everything was golden. Oranges, violets, reds, were the colours that tinted the clouds above the sea. Law was walking right by my side, and both were admiring the beauty of the evening lights that bathed the cliffs. I decided to stop, and take a picture with my analog camera, and as I did, Law kept walking a few steps more until he realized I had stopped. He turned around and looked at me, just when I pressed the shutter. “I’m sorry, I… didn’t know…” Law excused himself for appearing in the photo, but I wasn’t mad at all. I gave him a smile and told him, “It’s ok, you are part of the trip, I’ll give you a copy when I develop the film if you want”. “Thanks…”, he said, and we kept on walking admiring the beauty of the sun setting.

We finally arrived at where everybody else was. Law gave the salt to Sanji and helped him with the barbecue. I started to set up the blankets with the girls and told Brook to play some music with his guitar. The boys had already put up the bonfire and some torchlights that lit up our night.

The night was lovely, it was a little cold, but a few beers after I was dancing with the girls barefoot on the sand to “A lovely night” from the movie Lalaland. Suddenly, Robin said to me “Hey, Y/n… it seems that Torao-kun can’t take his eyes off from you tonight”. “Huh?” I told Robin, confused. She pointed to where the boys were cooking and I turned my face to them. Law was indeed looking at me, with a beer in his hand. I smiled gazing at him over my shoulder, and he did too. I turned back at the girls and kept on dancing covering my mouth, giggling a little. Vivi, Nami and Robin also giggled and gave me a complicit smile.

“Dinner is ready, everybody! “announced Sanji and we gathered all around the grill to receive the plates that surprisingly Zoro helped Sanji to serve. I guess alcohol and food made them somehow get along, at least for a few hours. I wonder when they are going to stop the fighting and begin the kissing… fufufu…

The brochettes were heavenly, we ate them sitting around the bonfire while singing “Binks no Sake”, one of Brooks classics. He is the musician of the group, and even started his professional career a few years ago as “Soul King”. He is such a talented guy.

As the night passed Law and I sometimes interlocked eyes, or exchanged little smiles. I took some more photos during the picnic and we kept on dancing until 3 am, when we decided to raise camps and head to our beds.

I was exhausted, yet, the idea of stalking Law on Instagram was on my head and didn’t let me sleep. I covered myself completely with the sheets and searched for his user on my phone. He has no more than 5 photos posted. One of them was with Luffy and Zoro, after training, another one of him and Rosinante -he called him “Cora-san” on the image caption, how cute - when he was a little boy. The rest of the photos were with some friends dressed up as pirates for Halloween and in the comment section they called themselves the “Heart pirates”, ha-ha funny.

I suspired whenever I zoomed the photos over his eyes. I was starting to like this man, way too much... I tossed and turned in bed trying to fall asleep, but I simply couldn’t, so I thought drinking some tea would help me. I went downstairs, trying not to wake anybody up and got to the kitchen. From the big glass door that looked at the beach I saw how the moonlight lit up the waves crashing on the cliffs and the whole kitchen. The scenery and the chamomile tea were slowly fading away the image of Law’s eyes, until I felt someone placing a hand over my shoulder. I slightly gazed at it, and it only took me a few seconds to know it was the tattooed hand of the guy who was keeping me awake. He was wearing black shorts, and a loose white shirt. His hair was more disheveled than ever. What is it with this guy that looks so good no matter what he looks?...

“I see I’m not the only one who can’t sleep”, Law whispered. “Yeah, I’m exhausted but somehow I can’t fall asleep… I guess it must be the bed, I don’t know. Do you want some tea?”, I offered him. “Yes, that would be great”, he accepted.

I was turning on the electric kettle when we heard some noises coming from the living room. I looked at Law and both of us peaked through the kitchen entrance to see what was going on…

“Shitty cook… we shouldn’t….”, “What? are you afraid, idiot Marimo?”. Sanji and Zoro seemed a little drunk and were somehow hugging and walking at the same time. At first I thought they were trying to help each other to go upstairs, so I started walking towards them to help. I couldn’t walk any further because immediately Law grabbed me by my waist, and pulled me back into the kitchen covering my mouth. “Shh… just wait”, he whispered into my ear and let go of me. What I saw next was something we’ve all been waiting for. Finally, Zoro and Sanji accepted how much they loved each other, and went upstairs kissing as two teenagers in love.

I opened my mouth and looked at Law with a surprised expression, that soon turned into a happy face. I started making little jumps in my place. “I knew it!!” I said and Law giggled almost without making any sound. With the excitement I didn’t notice how near we were from each other, until Law softly caressed my face with one of his soft hands. He, of course had the hands of a surgeon, long fingers, soft skin, perfectly cut nails. “Why don’t we do the same as them?” he asked me, and I gasped and stood still in front of him. He slowly approached his face to mine until the point of our noses were almost touching. I got lost into his grey eyes, my mouth was ready to receive his lips. The sweet torture of the moments before a first kiss, I wished I could make it last as much as I could, but at the same time, I wanted him to kiss me, passionately, now, right now.

My eyes probably showed how desperately I was for him to kiss me, that he smirked and finally planted his luscious lips against mine. He explored my mouth with his tongue, with no modesty at all, and as we were passionately kissing he lifted me up and sited me over the kitchen counter.

Without stopping the kissing, I open my legs to allow him to come further and as he did, he slid a hand to my sex…

Part 3

PT1

[aquaticstyles]

from the dining table

I know I said I was posting at 7, but I finished earlier than expected :) 5k inspired by the song we all know and love, From the Dining Table. Hope you all enjoy reading! I really liked how this one turned out. As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated!!!

“Whatcha doin' out here by yourself?"

You nearly jump out of your skin and send the wine sloshing in your glass splashing onto the freshly cut grass at the sound of his voice.

You hoped—you prayed that you could get through the night without running into him. You were here to celebrate your good friend and her new husband, not re-open old scars. Yet here he is, right in front of you, dressed to the nines in all black, tailored perfectly to fit his broad shoulders and slim waist, chestnut locks styled haphazardly and intentionally all at once, new, foreign stubble on his upper lip and jaw making him that much more ruggedly handsome, chest hair peeking through the opened buttons of his shirt, and a white rose clipped to the lapel of his jacket.

He looks good. He looks really good, and you would like to die.

You would very much like to bury yourself in a hole.

He seems so familiar, traces of an old lover lost in the gold flecks of his eyes, but you don't know him, at least not anymore. He's a stranger now, an array of old photographs and journal clippings scattered throughout your memory. He went from being your person, to a person--from being the one person you could talk to for hours upon hours tangled in the sheets, the moonlight from the open curtains dancing upon miles and miles of bare skin, without ever growing tired, to the one person that sucks every word out of you, leaving you speechless, an awkward shell of the confident woman you used to be around him.

You would have followed him anywhere, blind, heart thumping beneath your chest, relying solely on his palm in yours to guide you through the dark—to the ends of the earth, tiptoes over the edge, ready and willing to plummet thousands of feet downward.

The breeze that floats through the air and brushes against your arm adds more goosebumps to the ones already present due to the man next to you. Everything around you is calm—the ocean to your right, waves slowly reeling in and releasing back against the shoreline, the sun setting in the horizon, creating warm hues of tangerine and pomegranate in the sky and sparkling on the endless canvas of blue below, the palm trees rustling gently, the soft chatter of guests behind you in the distance. Outside, there's a whirlwind of serenity, but inside, there's a hurricane crashing against your rib cage.

"Oh, I, um, had a phone call," you confess. You barely got the day off to come to the wedding, and your phone has been buzzing nonstop with work emails, texts, and voicemails.

Yes, you had to take a phone call, but you also needed a minute. A minute for yourself. A minute to reflect, on both past and future.

A minute to inhale--his palm in yours, your cheek pressed against his chest, his temple resting on top of your head, swaying slowly in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra's 'One For My Baby' echoing softly, pulling you closer to him if possible, hushed whispers of "I love you" from two hearts beating in unison.

A minute to exhale--love letters, broken promises, his (your) favorite t-shirt, borrowed books, his handwriting still in the margins, tokens of his thoughts, postcards, one for each new city he inhabited while he way away from you for months on end, pearls, a Frank Sinatra vinyl, your ring stretched and bent from his pinky, anything and everything that was part of him, tucked away in a cardboard box in your attic, collecting dust.

Weddings are supposed to be joyous; they're supposed to remind you of just how amazing life can be, particularly when it's spent with someone you love, but you can't help but feel lonelier than ever.

This is what you wanted.

This is what you wanted with him.

"Still always working," sparkles dance in those eyes of his, morphing every coherent thought in your head to mush. It's criminal how relaxed he is. It's almost as if you're old friends catching up, as if all of the history between the two of you simply no longer exists. He's smirking at you, making your insides turn to jelly and your brain slosh around in your skull. He seems entirely unfazed as he strolls closer to you, the whiskey in his glass barely moving from how slow he progresses. He's honey, the golden sugar dripping lazily from a swarming hive.

You look good. You look really good. And he notices.

His eyes trail from the very tip top of your head, to your cherry red toenails, and you immediately shrink in on yourself. He studies your appearance, long locks of hair he used to comb his fingers through flowing in the slight breeze and cascading down your back, thin straps holding up the loose, silky fabric of your sundress, heart-shaped lips glistening, coated in your favorite lip gloss (He thinks the longer he stares, the more he can taste them again—the more he can feel the sticky substance transferred on his own lips, remnants of your sparkles imprinted on him), freckled cheeks paired with a rosy nose, results from a sunburn (You're tanner than he last saw you. Has your skin always been this golden?), a new tattoo on your inner right forearm, a compass, so minute that one would have to be staring to notice (Which he was, and he did).

Then he sees it.

That all-too-familiar gold band wrapped around your right middle finger, catching the light reflecting from the white wine in your glass.

The ring he gave you.

The one he saw in Japan and had to buy because it had you written all over it. The one he left on his pillow in your shared bed, waiting for you once you had successfully stretched and rubbed the sleep from your eyes while he was off to an early studio session. The one he had engraved, "H.S." on the inside of, a little piece of him always with you. The last token of him you couldn't bring yourself to rid of, a time capsule from a past love.

As soon as you realize he's spotted it, your grip on the glass in your hand tightens. Harry's eyes immediately snap back to yours—after all this time, you still wore the ring. Why were you still wearing the ring?

In a desperate attempt to distract Harry from asking that question you knew was swimming around in his mind, you clear your throat, "Still always working," you force a tight-lipped smile and rock on your heels, "that and you know I'm no good at dancing." You nod your head to the crowded dance floor alive with couples drunk off the mini bar behind the two of you.

Harry's hard expression softens, accompanied by a dimple as memories of your horrible dancing come flooding back. He releases a warm chuckle, one you haven't heard in ages that echoes in your eardrums longer than you would have liked, "Can't argue with that, 'member you almost broke m'big toe a couple times." His eyes never leave yours as he takes a sip from his glass, the amber liquid gliding down his throat with a faint burn.

The space between the two of you progressively decreases as he moves closer and closer, until suddenly his shoulder is only a couple inches away, daring to brush against yours. You're both facing the ocean now, backs towards the roaring crowd. You close your eyes, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore easing the anxiety coasting through your veins. You inhale slowly, enjoying the feeling of the wind brushing against your cheekbones, cooling off the nervous heat Harry has caused. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Harry turns his head and watches you with your eyes fluttered closed, admiring your side profile up close with no shame, because how could he not? He hasn't seen you in person for over a year—it's like he's seeing you for the first time again. He fights the urge to tuck a stay piece of hair behind your hair, something he would have done without thinking if things hadn't gone completely downhill. He wants to memorize how you look in this moment, the exact position of every eyelash, the exact angle of the slope of your nose, just in case he has to go another 12 months without seeing you again. But boy, he wants to see you again. And again.

You keep your eyes closed, your lips turning upwards in a faint smirk, "I saw you at Target the other day," you open your eyes and turn to look at Harry, only to find him already fully fixated on you. Has he been staring at you this whole time? "Rolling stone? That's big."

He grins at your flustered look of shock; he was caught, but he's not embarrassed at all, not trying in the slightest to hide how much you have captivated his attention, "Uh yeah," Jesus, your eyes are beautiful. Your eyes didn't look this beautiful when you were together. Did you do something to your eyes? No, that's impossible. Is that a new piercing in your ear? You hate needles. Did you pierce it yourself? What else has changed about you? Harry, focus. What did you say again? Oh, yeah, Rolling Stone. "Doesn't do well for my narcissism though."

"Hmm... I can imagine," you take a sip of wine, returning your eyes back to the horizon, this time focusing on a pack of seagulls gliding through orange creamsicle skies. You can't stare into his eyes for too long without thinking of everything, the good, the bad, the ugly. Each time you look into his eyes, it's like reliving every conversation you ever had. His words, a gallon of feathers poured on top of you, soft tufts brushing against your skin. His words, a gallon of daggers poured on top of you, sharp metal piercing your skin.

Silence overwhelms the two of you—filling the void of words needed and wanted to be said.

Harry clears his throat and finally looks in front of him to the breathtaking sunset melting into the skyline, almost as breathtaking as you. Taking a big gulp of his whiskey, he prepares himself for the words about to spill from his mouth. He has to ask, because you're here, in person, live in stereo, and when will he have an opportunity like this again? This question has been swimming in his brain for months; it's been eating him alive, the unknown mystery of the situation. He's dying to know if you've heard that one song.

"Have yeh listened to the album?"

He chose the absolute worst time to ask this question, right when you were taking a sip from your glass. You nearly choke on the liquid sliding down your throat, erupting into a coughing fit as soon as you get a breath of air. Harry's eyes widen, immediately angling his body towards yours, a look of alarm flashing across his features. You hunch over, sending cough after cough into your free hand. A warm palm rests on your back between your shoulder blades, causing goosebumps to rise, and as soon as he's about to ask if you're okay, you wave your hand, brushing off your near-death experience. You cough one last time, your raspy voice hesitantly admitting, "Um yes, I have."

Harry furrows his eyebrows, analyzing your face to make sure you're actually okay and before he can stop it from happening, he's rubbing small circles into your back. He hovers his body slightly over yours as you cough one last time into your elbow. You mouth "I'm good" inaudibly and send him a thumbs up. You finally straighten back up, brushing your hair out of your face and blinking slowly a couple times, God, that was embarrassing, way to keep it cool.

When your posture returns to its natural state, and his palm on your back is no longer appropriate, Harry removes his hand and pushes it into his pocket. He silently curses himself for not grabbing intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your palm once—that was something he would always do when you were together. It was his thing. When you would be out shopping and the paps would show up inconveniently out of nowhere, he would grab your hand and squeeze it once, letting you know that he's here and he's sorry, before dropping it. When you would be eating dinner at your parents, laughing about who knows what, his knee brushing yours underneath the table, he would grab your hand and squeeze it once, letting you know that he's here and he loves you, before dropping it.

Silence returns again and you're both back to your original positions overlooking the sea. Bass thumping, "cheers!", clinking, birds chirping, leaves rustling, waves crashing, heavy breathing, congratulations, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!", his rings tapping against his glass, the soles of your shoes crunching the grass, heart pounding.

The loudest silence breaks, "Figured one day you'd at least g'me a call back."

If you weren't sure if that last track was really about you, you were completely certain now. Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me you're sorry too. For the first time since he's been in your presence this evening, you regain a sense of confidence, your nervous jitters diminishing with your next statement.

"I didn't have anything to apologize for."

And you didn't. Not when he was the one that left, when he was the one that decided he didn't want to love you anymore, when he was the one that chose his life over the both of yours. It hurt. It still does. So why would you call him and tell him that you're sorry too? Sorry for what? Loving him too much? Because you loved him too much. He was the love of your life, the man you wanted to marry, the man you wanted to be the father of your children, the man that completely and utterly captured your heart and sewed it together with his own. But he left. And you had to figure out how to live without him, how to do the dishes when he wasn't drying, how to dance when it wasn't his records playing in the background, how to kiss when it wasn't his lips that were folded over yours, how to love again when it wasn't him that you were loving. You had to do it all. Alone. Pick up the pieces he scattered, put them back together, and super glue them.

Then he put out his debut album. And suddenly he was everywhere, from magazines, to billboards, to tv shows, to recommended YouTube videos, to Instagram, to twitter, to even Facebook, there he was again, closer to you than he had been in months, yet still light years away. And all of those pieces you super glued? Yeah, they became completely undone again, and it didn't help that you decided to actually listen to his album. It was one thing to see him everywhere, but to hear him again, hear that voice that once felt like home, it ruined you.

That song ruined you.

You remember the day that song was inspired from, every single detail.

-

You had a particularly busy day at work, and you decided to have a spa night. A bubble bath, a bottle of rosé, a face mask, a couple bath bombs, and a pizza was exactly what the doctor prescribed. You had just stepped out of your steamy wonderland, your body covered in your favorite, fluffy robe, soapy suds still clinging to damp skin, completely content in your cotton bubble and slightly buzzed from the glasses of wine you consumed. It was nearly 3 in the morning, and you just sat down at your vanity to apply your various lotions and serums when the phone rang.

Who on earth is calling you this late at night?

You shuffled your slippered-feet to your bedside table, glancing over to see something you never thought you'd see again.

His name.

Harry Styles

Flashing on your screen.

Nearly giving you a heart attack.

You froze in your tracks, eyes widening, mouth hanging open, breathing halting, heart beat slowing and thumping louder than ever in your ears. It felt like the entire world was put on pause, every car on the busy street outside your apartment stopped, traffic lights stuck on red, clouds frozen in place in the sky, every form of life on hold. You miss the call, not that you could have answered anyways; you were completely and utterly paralyzed.

Another notification: Harry Styles Voicemail.

Then you're breathing again, quick, sharp puffs of air in and out. Are you dreaming? You squint your eyes shut tightly and pinch your wrist. This has to be a dream. You open your eyes, the same notification illuminating your screen. You're not dreaming.

God presses play on the world, your surroundings slowly returning back to their normal pace around you, your bubble bursting as you frantically pull your phone from its charger, typing in in your passcode at the speed of light and going straight to the neon green cube on your dock. A shaky thumb taps on the voicemail, hitting the speaker button. There are a couple seconds of static, and for a moment you think maybe it was an accident, a butt-dial, a complete misunderstanding. Please let this be an accident.

Key word: moment.

Because as soon as you think you can forget about this, go back to your nightly routine, and have a peaceful sleep, his voice is booming through the speakers, and you're paralyzed again.

"Um... Hi, it's Harry," the ghost of the man you used to know lets out a nervous laugh, "But you knew that didn't yeh? Probably why you didn't answer..." there's silence, two seconds, five seconds, eight. "I'm in Japan. It's noon here, and m'drunk, alone in my hotel room," his voice is deep, raspy, tired. "'Member that ring I gave you? I'm stayin' a couple blocks away from that shop. Y'loved that ring. Think tha' was the last good thing I did."

Your eyes shift to your right hand, the one that's not death-gripping your phone, the one that holds the piece of metal he's referring to. A lump grows in the back of your throat, and suddenly it's becoming harder to stand. You collapse on the edge of your bed and gulp. Tears pool uncontrollably in your eyes, falling onto the robe that now feels like pinecones suffocating you.

"I saw Mark befo' I left. Ran into him at the grocery store," Mark, your co-worker, your friend. Mark didn't tell you he saw Harry. Why didn't he tell you he saw Harry? Why is Harry talking about Mark? Why did Harry call you? Why did Harry leave you a voicemail? "I asked him how you were, and he said you were fine. Are you fine?" No. "Cause I'm not. M'not fine at all."

You shut your eyes in pain, wincing at his words. Waterfalls flood from your eyes, and you hate it. You hate that this is affecting you so much. You hate that he still has a hold on you. You wished you could not care; you wished you could simply say "fuck you forever" and forget him. It's been 6 months since the breakup, and you want more than anything to move on and forget him.

"Love I-" You bite your tongue at the pet name, almost drawing blood. When was the last time he called you that? 'Love'—the equivalent of a knife plunging into your chest again and again. "I fucked up... and I miss you." And again. "God, I miss you so much." And again. "And m'sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." And again. "Th'worst thing I ever did was what I did to you."

You're fully sobbing at this point, your phone thrown across the other end of your bed, his voice slightly muffled by your duvet. Your hands are tangled in your hair, elbows resting on your knee caps, shoulders shaking as you hiccup, wave after wave of his words hitting you. Little do you know, Harry is on the other end of the world doing the exact same thing—hands pulling his hair, hunched over on the edge of his grand suite's expensive mattress, an almost empty bottle of whiskey to his right, tears staining the carpet beneath him.

"And I know this is late. M'a fuckin' idiot for not saying it until now. I just..." He breathes out a sigh, and you pinch your eyes shut even tighter. No, he's drunk. He doesn't mean it. He's drunk. He doesn't mean it. Don't fall for it; you've been doing fine. You're fine... right? "I needed yeh to hear that. Need you to know I'm so sorry for hurting you. I did th'one thing I swore I'd never do."

Relaxing your grip on the roots of your hair, you sit up at his words, the words you have waited to hear him say for six months. Why don't they sweep you off your feet like you imagined? Why don't you feel different? You had thought about this moment over and over, the moment he would finally own up to his mistakes, finally apologize for all the shit he put you through. You imagined him showing up to your doorstep with a dozen sunflowers, your favorite, a speech prepared on how much he still loves you and how much he is sorry for everything. After, you would launch into his open arms, sinking back into his quicksand, enveloped in his love all over again. Everything would fall back into place; you would be whole again. What you didn't expect was a drunken voicemail, making you want to crumble inside yourself until all that is left is a pile of bones, useless. It felt as if there was a surprise epilogue to your joint ending—you were experiencing the break up all over again. What was supposed to give you life, hope was slowly taking it away each second the voicemail continued.

"I'm dying, love." Me too. "Can I still call you that?" No. "M'dying without you. Just... Please call me. Please let me show you how sorry I am. Need to hear y'voice. I'm so sorry. Call me."

-

His voicemail remains in your phone. You never called him back. You've lost count of the times your finger hovered over his contact name, nearly jumping into the deep end, just for you to take one step backwards on the diving board. One particular night, after taking another step back, you decided to write down everything you wanted to say, everything you wished you knock on his door and scream at him until you lost your voice—all of the heartache, the sorrow, the stress, the hope, the anxiety, every single emotion you felt since it ended. You wrote twenty-two pages. They're now hidden in your bedside table, addressed and stamped, never sent. Harry didn't call you again; that was the last time you heard from him, over a year ago now.

Silence welcomes itself again. Comfortable silence is so overrated.

Shoulder brushing against yours, Harry stands still, digesting your last words. I didn't have anything to apologize for. There was a time when he would have completely disagreed with that statement, clearly, given the lyrics to his last track on his debut album. Then, he would have argued that both of you had dipped your toe in your downfall, each equally responsible for how things crumbled apart. Now, however, he sees how it was him that was in the wrong. He was the one afraid of the commitment you wanted from him—part of him could never fully love you like he wanted to. A couple hundred therapy sessions later, he's sorted his shit out, and he sees just how much shit he put you through, as if someone had sat him down in a theatre, showing him your love story from your perspective. You don't owe him an apology; you were perfect, always giving him your all, every single drop, every single ounce of your love from an endless fountain. He was the one that left. Hewas the one that broke you into small, jagged pieces.

But he's selfish. He still misses you so much. He misses your hand encased in his, your laugh at his terrible jokes, your lips on his cheek, your faint snores that only erupt on Friday nights after a hard week at work, your face buried in his neck, chest on top of his and legs entangled in his on the couch, your finger poking his dimple, your face scrunched in concentration as you painted his nails, your records playing in his house (the ones you said he had to borrow, but if he scratched them, he was a dead man), your hugs (the way you would make him feel itty bitty in your embrace, enveloping him into your open arms after he was away for too long), your mind, always alive and itching for those deep conversations that always arise at midnight in his bed.

That's why he came to the wedding in the first place. He was originally booked to shoot a music video, but he quickly cancelled at the possibility of seeing you here. And that's why when he finally spotted you, off in the distance, speaking into your phone away from the buzzing reception, he knew he had to talk to you. He didn't care if it re-opened closed wounds; he was selfish and he had to talk to you. He missed you.

"Listen-"

"I-" Harry speaks up at the same time you do, beginnings of sentences clashing together. Your eyes meet again, shoulders turned towards each other now. He grins, bunny teeth making an appearance at the mishap regardless of the obvious tension that has invaded the air between the two of you. You envy that trait, his ability to make any situation comfortable and relaxed despite its origin. "You first."

"No, um you go," you mumble out awkwardly, finishing off the remnants of wine in your glass in a rather large gulp to ease the nerves. You know Harry, sometimes better than he knows himself, and you know that he would have never approached you if he didn't have some motive on his own. You had to shut this down—there was no way you could go down this road with him again, not when just this conversation was enough to ruffle your feathers, making you feel like a traitor in your own body, someone you don't even know.

"How 'bout we both go?" There's a cheeky look in his eye, and if you look hard enough you could see a tinge of excitement, hopefulness, "On th'count of three?"

Not daring to quirk upwards, your lips remain straight, and you nod.

"One," You can do it. Just tell him you want to basically forget he exists. "Two," You can do it. Just tell her you still love her. "Three."

Two similar heartbeats.

"I still love you-" Sweet sugar crystals, an honest confession from candy land.

"I think it's best if we don't see each other again." An exploding cannon, sinking his battle ship.

Two entirely different headspaces.

-

The next morning, you wake up with a massive headache, one that was undoubtedly brewing as you cried yourself to sleep the night prior (it might also have to do with the entire bottle of wine you consumed as soon as you slipped off your heels in your apartment).

You notice it's technically no longer morning when you check your phone, squinting in pain at the sudden brightness, the numbers 1:25 yelling back at you. Thank god it's Saturday; you haven't had a hangover of this intensity since college and there is no way you could possibly go to work like this.

Slowly slipping out of the warmth of your numerous weighted blankets, your socked feet hit the plush carpet, and you bend down and open the bottom drawer of your bedside table. Tied up in a pink bow are four envelopes, addressed and stamped, waiting to be delivered to the man whose hopes you crushed. You reached for the stack, running your fingers along the edges, reading over his name, tracing the letters with your fingertips.

With the letters firm in your grasp, you rush to your front door, making sure to slip on your robe; you don't want anyone to drive by you putting these letters in your mailbox in nothing but a t-shirt and undies, after all.

You're finally doing it, diving into the crystal-clear water that was once forever still. You're going to mail all twenty-two pages, every emotion. This is it, the last period to the epilogue, the ending of this book, the closure the both of you so desperately need.

As you reach for the handle, you pause, noticing the one thing you nearly forgot about—that gold band. You slip the piece of metal off your finger, observing his initials engraved on the inside for the last time. Untying the bow holding the envelopes together, you slide the ring onto one end of the cotton-candy colored ribbon and retie the knot, the ring now attached. Inhale, one moment to reflect. Exhale, one moment to say your final goodbye. You swing open the door, and right before you can make another move, something stops you. Looking down at your doorstep, a bittersweet smile breaks out across your face. He was saying goodbye too.

A dozen sunflowers.

[sokkas-honour]

Black sheep: prologue -mako x reader

pairing: mako x fem!reader 

summary (rlly need to work on this):  they met working for the triads but sadly, leaving the criminal life behind isnt as easy as the brothers or their closest friend thought.

w.c: 1.2k

note: it’s my first time writing in a while so there might be a bunch of mistakes so feel free to point them out! also request for any atla/lok/tdp ship and character are open!! also massive thanks to @biqherosix for helping me out and listening to be spitballing :)

tw: mention of a gang (triad), slight mention of parents death but no details

taglist (always open): @biqherosix @draqondance (hopefully you dont mind)

prologue - part 1 

—————

“Ah y/n, there you are. Did you get the message to Viper?” Lightning Bolt Zolt asked you as you entered their hideout. You nodded, you’d been recruited by the triad a couple of days after the incident that resulted in your parents death which had been at least a year ago. They were surprisingly welcoming and the leader had taken a small liking to you but he’d never say that out loud. You had sworn your allegiance to the Triple Threats meaning you got full protection from the triad, a place to live and even bending instructors. 

The current hideout where you lived was situated under an earth kingdom inspired bar and was dimly lit by a couple of lamps hanging from the ceiling that shone a light in a small circle. The rest of the room was lit by candles that firebenders turned on and off. One of the black lamps sat right on top of a table where elder members gambled and played cards, it illuminated the table just enough for the people that played but barely affected the younger members around who were oh so desperately trying to see what was going on.

Near the back of the room that you first saw as you came down the stairs was a small bar counter where the majority of the alcohol and food sat. Lightning Bolt Zolt also had a velvet seat in front of said counter where he had a clear view of the entire common room. A lamp also hung above the bar counter but he had a couple of candles lit around him in order to seem more menacing.

Once you came down the stairs from the staff room of the bar, a couple of steps into the common room, there was a corridor that lead to a few rooms that only the higher ranked members could use but they had given you the smallest one in order to keep you safe as well as keep an eye on you. The senior members weren’t always there, they sometimes switched from hideout to hideout or lived in their own houses but always had a room in the basement in case they needed to hide from the cops or lay low for a while. Someone in the higher ranks was always on thin ice with the law so you usually had someone like Zolt, Zhen or even Shady Shin sleeping in a room across from you.

“Wanna take a go at firebending?” The leader asked before you exited the room. They were aware of your bending abilities but had noticed that you seemed very reluctant to even use your gift. They usually had a strict bending only policy but they made an exception for you as you were great at relaying messages between members, deep down though, they hoped you’d start firebending again because you showed so much promise in your hand to hand combat training.Occasionally puffs of fire would come out when you really got into your sparring sessions but refused to make anymore than that.

Much to Zolt’s dismay you shook your head. With a sigh, Zolt grabbed an apple that had been freshly bought that sat on the bar counter and extended it to you with a small smile. “No problem, remember Zhen is always available for more hand to hand combat. Isn't that right Zhen?” Zolt turned his head to make eye contact with the older member who nodded slightly before returning to his card game.

You shook your head but gladly took the apple out of his hand, only realising then that you hadn’t eaten since that small bowl of rice you had for breakfast. He excused you with a curt nod. You took that as your cue to leave the room infested with the criminals that had served as your family for the past year and head to the privacy of your room. Your room was quite small, just big enough for a bed and a small sort of hopper widow that gave you a small view of the bustling streets of Republic city. Thousands of people walked by you and the bar everyday and had no idea that the eldest triad were hidden there. You adored people watching even though you could barely see people’s feet. Next to your bed was a small bedside table with a candle that had been turned on by some firebender while you were gone. You only had a select choice of clothing notably three pairs of red pants to honour your fire nation heritage, two plain shirts, a white tank top and a beautiful blue dress that Shady Shin had gotten for your birthday not too long ago so you’d have something fancy in case you ever needed one. A few female members had promised to take you on shopping sprees when you got older so you’d blend in better as you grew. 

You also had a small stack of books that meant the world to you near your bed. They were your parent’s and one of them was your favorite book of Fire Nation legends and you reread whenever you missed them. You had no idea what you’d do if you lost it and you could never buy it again as your mother had even written little notes in it and doodled in it, she had even included a family picture. She had planned on keeping the book when you grew out of it so she could give it to you as a 16th birthday present but unfortunately, that’ll never happen.

An hour or so after you had finished your apple, Zolt called for you. His voice carried all the way to your room so you jumped up and quickly made your way to the common room. You noticed that the majority of the newer members had left and only select senior members like Zhen were still gambling. You made it to the leader’s side when you finally noticed that Shady Shin stood in front of the lightning bender with two boys next to him. One looked to be around your age, you would’ve guessed 14 at the most. He had jet black unkempt hair and sharp tangerine eyes, making you believe that he must’ve had some sort of fire nation heritage. The boy next to him was shorter and looked 10, maybe 11 and looked way too innocent to be anywhere near a triad but then again, so did you. The younger one had similar black hair but instead had green puppy eyes.

“Meet your new teammates, they’ll be living on and off around here but we’ll mostly help you with messages and accounting.” Zolt introduced them, extending a hand to show the two brothers. “Now y/n darling, why don't you give them a small tour of the place while I talk with Shady Shin over here.”

You nodded and indicated the brothers to follow you down a hallway opposite to the stairs as opposed to the rooms that lay adjacent to them.

‘I’m y/n, what about you two?” You asked as soon as Shady Shin and Zolt were out of ear shot. Whenever Zolt asked you to not listen to a conversation you obeyed, he was still after all a powerful and dangerous man. The taller boy spoke for the both of them.

“I’m Mako and this is my brother Bolin.”

[maybeimamuppet]

it's me and you

hello friends. happy Wednesday. welcome to the work that inspired 'Tuesday minus five'.

tw for alcohol and a scene that might be triggering to those who struggle with disordered eating.

otherwise, please enjoy.

-

“Jayjay!” Cady calls loudly, leaping onto her fiancée from above. Janis yelps and catches her.

“Jesus Christ, Peanut, don’t do that,” she breathes once Cady is safely on the bed next to her. “What is it?”

Cady rolls on top of her and hovers over her on her elbows. “We have a wedding to plan.”

Janis grins a little at the reminder. “That we do. I’m guessing you want to do it now?”

“Uhhuh,” Cady nods happily. “Well, not all of it. But I want to start now.”

“Okay,” Janis says, rubbing over the backs of Cady’s arms. “You gonna let me up?”

Cady groans like it’s a terrible inconvenience and flops to the side, but takes Janis’ hand when she reaches out to help her up and follows her to the living room.

They sit on the ground around the coffee table, and Cady pulls her laptop and a notebook seemingly out of thin air.

“How do we even start with this?” Janis asks. They’re not planning on anything crazy, just their families and close friends, but they still have no idea how to approach planning it.

“I don’t know,” Cady shrugs. “I guess we should probably pick, like, a date for it?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Janis says. “You wanted spring.”

“Yeah,” Cady says. “Is April too cold?”

“I don’t think so. It gets pretty warm by the end of it,” Janis hums.

“And it should be easy to remember,” Cady says, tapping the end of her pen against her notebook. “What about April thirtieth? That’s as close to the end as we can get, and a round number.”

“Works for me,” Janis says. “So far, we’re nailing it.”

Cady laughs at that, writing the date in large letters on the first line. “You’re cute. Okay, um… location?”

That’s a bit more tricky. They want an outdoor wedding, but where?

“I don’t know,” Janis says anxiously. “All I can think of is the woods again.”

“That wouldn’t be terrible,” Cady hums thoughtfully. “It’s an important place to us, and it’s beautiful. And we wouldn’t have to pay very much, either. We’d have to get everyone to Illinois, but that’s doable.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” Janis says. “Are you sure, though? You don’t want somewhere more fancy?”

“As long as it’s not Las Vegas and I’m married to you by the end of that day, I couldn’t care less where it happens,” Cady says contently, adding their newest bit of information to the notebook. Janis grins affectionately as she nibbles on the end of the pen once it’s written down. “Okay, what now… um… color scheme?”

“Do you have anything in mind?” Janis asks. She’s not terribly fussed about this.

“Yeah. Do you?” Cady asks back. Janis nods. “Same time?” Another nod. “Okay, three, two, one.”

“Yellow,” Janis says.

“Purple,” Cady says at the same time. They both smile when they hear that the other picked their favorite color. “Our first disagreement. Okay, hmm.”

“Compromise color?” Janis suggests.

“Okay,” Cady giggles. “What do you get if you mix yellow and purple?”

“Brown,” Janis says quietly after a beat. Cady scrunches her nose. “Yeah, um… what about green? That’s yellow and blue, that’s pretty close.”

“Green might be nice, but if we’re getting married in the woods everything would blend in,” Cady says. They both think on it more, and suddenly her eyes light up. “What about rainbow? This technically is a gay wedding, and then we could have every color. Everyone could pick which one they want to be. And it would make the flowers a lot easier.”

Janis smiles at her. “That does sound beautiful. I like it.”

“Good!” Cady chirps. “Look at us, communicating.”

Janis laughs and inches herself closer. “What now?”

“We should probably invite people,” Cady realizes. “Okay, who do you want as bridesmaids and… brides…men?”

“I don’t know, I think we’re going to be picking from the same group,” Janis says. “Damian, Aaron, Julie, and the Plastics?” Cady nods. “We could just… share them, I guess.”

“Do you want Damian as your best man? I’ll let you have him,” Cady says, writing down everyone’s names.

“Yes please,” Janis responds. “Who do you want as yours?”

Cady goes quiet. “Would it be dumb to pick Rhys? I know he can’t… be there, but…”

“But you love him, he’s your brother,” Janis finishes. “That’s not dumb at all, baby. We’ll do something special.”

Cady grins at her thankfully. “We’ll do something for your dad, too. What about maids of honor?”

“Juliana,” Janis says. “Mine’s pretty easy.”

“Yeah,” Cady chuckles. “Oh, I don’t want to pick between the Plastics, that’s mean.”

“You don’t have to, necessarily,” Janis says. “You could have all of them, or none of them, if you want. This wedding is already very untraditional, I don’t think anyone would be surprised if we fiddled with that part too.”

“That’s true,” Cady says thoughtfully. “All of them, then. If they want, I’ll let them choose.”

“Good plan,” Janis says. “This is easier than I thought.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx us,” Cady chuckles, looking up how to book the venue and finding caterers. “I have a job I think you should handle alone, too.”

“Oh, Christ,” Janis says anxiously. “What is it?”

“The cake,” Cady says with a cheeky wink. “I trust your judgement. You’ve always liked it more than me, I think you should handle that.”

“Oh,” Janis says in relief. “Yeah, I can do that. But that means you have to handle the flowers, I’m terrible with those.”

“I can do flowers,” Cady agrees with a chuckle.

“Um…” Janis says before she trails off. Cady looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “What are we going to wear?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to wear?” Cady says, pulling up a website for inspiration.

“I want to wear a dress,” Janis says shyly. “But I also kind of… don’t.”

“Me too,” Cady hums. “We could each get a dress and then a… not-dress. Wear one to the ceremony and the other to the reception.”

Janis nods. It’ll be expensive, but they have a pretty solid budget. “That’s a good plan. Do you know Gretchen’s schedule for the next while?”

“I think she said she’s stepping back from the spring scene this year, so she might have a bit more time. I would love to wear her stuff if we can,” Cady hums. “I’ll ask her.”

“Make her let us pay her full price,” Janis insists.

“Of course,” Cady agrees. “We’ve done pretty good, today. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Janis says.

“We’re never gonna get to the end of this,” Cady chuckles. “I love you most. Speaking of, where should we go on our honeymoon? If we don’t go too crazy with the ceremony, we should have a good budget.”

Janis has actually planned out this bit. “I was thinking… Kenya?”

“Are you serious?” Cady asks excitedly. Janis can see her hands shaking. “We’re gonna go to Africa?”

“I don’t see why not,” Janis shrugs, trying to hide her own excitement and joy. “I’ve wanted to go since we met. See your animals, where you’re from. Why not now?”

Cady rockets into her with a squeal, knocking her back onto the rug. Janis wraps her arms around Cady’s back and holds her close against her, laughing at the ticklish sensation of Cady kissing her neck and cheeks over and over and over.

Eventually Cady does calm down, but makes no effort to leave Janis’ embrace. Her face is still tucked into her neck and Janis’ cheek is squished against her curls.

“I love you, Jayjay,” Cady murmurs, muffled against the column of Janis’ neck.

“I love you too, Caddy,” Janis responds, holding her tighter. “I can’t wait to marry you.” She feels a smile against her.

————-

In February, they decide it’s probably time to take everyone shopping for their wedding attire. Gretchen had agreed to designing and making their dresses and outfits, but the bridesmaids and men still need things to wear.

The Plastics all agreed to be Cady’s maids of honor, and all decided to take on different responsibilities. Gretchen’s main one is obviously to focus on designing and sewing. Regina would be handling things on the day of the wedding, and Karen is throwing Cady’s bachelorette party. Cady is a little nervous about that.

Juliana visits for Cady’s birthday, so they decide to take everyone out while she’s in town with them.

“So what color scheme have you guys picked?” Gretchen asks as their crew enters a bridal shop.

Cady and Janis lock eyes with a small grin. “All of them. We picked rainbow.”

“Aww, gay,” Damian coos.

“All of you get to pick your own color,” Cady chuckles.

“That’s a really good idea,” Regina says. “Can I be red?”

“I want orange!” Karen adds.

“Can I be yellow?” Gretchen asks shyly.

“I’ll be blue, I guess,” Aaron says.

“Dibs on purple,” Damian calls.

“Then I guess I’m green,” Julie shrugs. “That was easy.”

Janis and Cady nod confidently and lead them into the store. Aaron and Damian go first since they both get suits, which are a bit easier. Damian’s is a vibrant grape shade of purple, which suits him remarkably well. Aaron picks a sapphire one with a similar style to Damian’s. Both will be tailored to a perfect fit for them before the wedding, so their work is done.

The Plastics go next, heading to different areas of the shop to find dresses in their respective colors. Each of them come back with no fewer than five to try on. Janis slumps down slightly in her seat, realizing this is going to take a while longer than she had anticipated.

Regina eventually settles on a ruby dress with a slit up the skirt and a slight v-neck on the tight bodice. Karen’s tangerine colored dress is similar, but hers has sleeves that loop around her upper arms instead of the spaghetti strap style that Regina chose. Gretchen has a harder time deciding between her options, and eventually gives it up to a group vote. The winner is a beautiful dandelion yellow one, with a higher neckline and only one sleeve.

Juliana is the last one to venture off, and she also returns with several options. After about the tenth, they’re all starting to look rather similar to everyone. Janis goes back to the dressing room with her sister to help weed out some options. Once they’ve sorted it down to three, it’s much easier to handle.

Julie tries on all three no fewer than twice each, before eventually, finally, landing on an emerald green dress with off the shoulder sleeves. It actually looks rather similar to Cady’s dress from their senior prom, just green and with a much less poofy skirt.

“Yay,” Damian cheers happily when they’re all outfitted. Cady insists on getting a picture of all of them together in their ill-fitting outfits for the first time.

“Lookin’ good, guys!” Janis calls from behind her fiancée. “Gay as hell.” She adds under her breath. Cady flicks her gently in retaliation.

“Yes, you are,” she murmurs. “They look good, don’t be mean.”

“I wasn’t! They’re literally a rainbow, that’s gay,” Janis insists. “That’s the whole point!”

Cady kisses her to shut her up, a tactic that always works. “We have to go feed them now, come on. Pick a restaurant.”

“Sushi,” Janis says instantly. Not a restaurant, but something Cady can work with.

“Fine, only because it’s a special day,” Cady agrees. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Janis says. “This was a good idea.”

“Thanks,” Cady chuckles. “They do look good together like that.”

“You’d make a good artist,” Janis suggests. Cady chuckles in disbelief. “No, you would! You just need practice, you clearly already have an eye for colors.”

“I have a good teacher,” Cady says, tipping herself back into Janis’ embrace. “Now come on, we really do have to go.”

————-

The time continues to fly by, and it’s March before they know it. They’ve already heard back from all their family and friends, so they know who’s coming. The florists and the caterers have all been booked, along with the venues. They have Kevin G. as the DJ for the reception, which both Cady and Janis are slightly nervous about. Decorations have been purchased, and Juliana agreed to be the officiate and marry them.

All that’s left is the cake. Janis’ big job. She ordered a large sample box from a bakery nearby, since they’re back home for Julie’s birthday. Damian and Aaron came too, so they get to help.

Cady’s left every little detail up to Janis. The flavor, how it’s decorated, the size. Frankly, she’s put a remarkable amount of trust in her fiancée.

There’s a bit of conflict in the fact that Janis and Cady don’t have the same taste in sweets. Janis prefers chocolatey things, while Cady usually goes for fruity things. Janis got a sample of every flavor the bakery offers.

“Fucking hell, Jan,” is the first thing out of Damian’s mouth when he opens his front door, finding Janis with a box of cake bigger than she is. Juliana has to hold the other end so she doesn’t drop it. It doesn’t even fit on the dining room table, so they rest it on the floor in the living room and sit in a circle around it. Janis feels like they’re about to perform some strange ritual together.

She opens the box of wonders. “Okay, so over here is all the chocolate stuff. Devil’s food, death by chocolate, I think this one might actually just be a brownie. And then this is vanilla cakes, so, like, white and yellow and stuff. And then fruit. Lemon, strawberry, raspberry, I forget what this one is. And then I got carrot cake for fun.”

“In what world is carrot cake fun?” Julie asks. “I swear there’s no way we’re related.”

“Rabbits think it’s fun,” Janis retaliates. “Here’s your forks. Dig in.”

They start strong, but the cake quickly loses its charm. Once you’ve tasted nine different kinds of chocolate cake alone, it’s not quite the same.

Julie is the first to tap out, quickly followed by Aaron. They both lie on the floor in a sugar coma. Janis and Damian are determined to continue.

“I think,” Damian says after a long moment. “That this was a mistake.”

“We definitely should’ve split them up,” Janis agrees, but takes another bite. “This one is… it would be good, under normal circumstances.”

Damian is the next to go, putting his fork down in defeat and collapsing onto the ground. Janis presses on. The fruit flavors provide a nice sort of respite, and she thinks that Cady would really like the lemon.

Janis doesn’t quite make it to the carrot cake. She knows her limits, so she admits defeat and rests herself down with the rest of the group. She pulls out her phone and texts a picture of all of them to Cady.

Cady’s job for the day is to try on her outfits with Gretchen, so it takes a few minutes for a response to come through. Janis gives an involuntary groan when she remembers Cady’s contact name.

caddycakes: Oh no, lovey D: What did you guys do?

jayjay: a terrible thing

jayjay: caddy

jayjay: i have consumed entire worlds and i regret everything

caddycakes: Poor things. Why did you do them all in one?

jayjay: an alarming display of hubris

caddycakes: Ah, of course. Drink water and have protein, it’ll help the stomachache. I’ll be there soon to take care of you

jayjay: ur gonna take care of me even tho i did this to myself ??

caddycakes: Darling, we’re getting married in a month and you’re the most impulsive, clumsy person I’ve ever known. If I refused to take care of you when you’re hurt or sick just because you did it to yourself we’d both be in for a world of misery

jayjay: i love you

caddycakes: I love you too, dearest. Hang in there 📷

Janis clicks her phone off and gives herself a few minutes to recover. She’s dreading the idea of putting anything else into her body at the moment, but Cady is right. Water will help make them feel better.

After about ten minutes she manages to peel herself up from the ground and head into the kitchen. Janis still knows her way around, so she grabs four glasses and fills them with ice water for her friends.

They barely react to her return, so she carefully rests a cup in each of their hands and keeps the last for herself. Carefully, they sip at the cold liquid until their stomachs stop aching quite so much, and they can move to the couch to continue the food coma there.

“I’m getting married. I’m an adult,” Janis mumbles eventually. “What the fuck have I done? I’m nowhere near responsible enough. Look at us.”

“Caddy’s responsible enough for both of you, it’s fine,” Damian replies deliriously. Juliana and Aaron grunt in agreement.

-

Cady enters after another short while, letting herself in with the key she still has. “Oh no, guys. What did Jay do to you?”

“That death by chocolate stuff was literal,” Aaron complains.

“Poor things. Oh good, you have water. That’ll help a little,” Cady says. She kisses Janis on the forehead gently. “I brought antacid tabs and some nuts. They have a fair bit of protein and they’re salty, that’ll help too.”

“An angel among idiots,” Damian says thankfully, popping a few tabs and taking a handful of the offered snack. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Did you guys pick a flavor or just eat yourselves to death?” Cady giggles, handing the treatments to the rest of them as well.

“The lemon was good,” Janis murmurs.

“I didn’t make it that far,” Aaron says. “But the… the fudge one was the best that I tasted.”

“I liked the white one too,” Julie says.

“Well, that’s something, I guess,” Cady chuckles. “I hope you’ve learned something.”

“Yeah, never let Janis talk you into a dessert tasting,” Damian says. Cady laughs and runs a hand through Janis’ hair gently.

“She meant well. You just need to plan better, love,” she hums. “Can you move yet? We should get you home.”

Janis nods and pulls herself up, then helps Julie. Cady leaves another few of the tablets and the rest of the snacks for Damian and Aaron, then grabs the cake box and follows the sisters to the car.

Cady also drives them home, dropping Julie off at their house but keeping Janis for herself. Janis pouts sadly once she’s in comfy clothes and nestled in bed to recover from the day.

“Caddy?” She asks quietly after a moment.

“Hmm?” Cady hums from above her, stroking through Janis’ hair.

“Are you sure you want to marry me? I’m… I’m such an idiot, sometimes. Why do you want to be stuck with this?” Janis asks sadly.

“Whoa, darling,” Cady hushes. “What? Of course I want to marry you. Of course I’m sure. I love you.”

“But why? Look at me,” Janis whines. “You said it yourself, I’m too impulsive.”

“No, mpenzi, shh for a second,” Cady says gently. “I love you because I choose to. I fell in love with you back in high school because you’re you. And now, every day, I choose to continue. I choose to love you. I love your passion, and your heart, and your mind. I love the things you create and the way you tick. And I love how impulsive you are, even though sometimes I get frustrated. You keep things interesting. And I love you for that.”

“But do you really want to deal with me forever?”

“Where is this coming from, my love?” Cady asks in concern, gently pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. “I’m not dealing with you. I’m loving you. I’m not trying to say I’m never going to get upset with you for being impulsive, just like you know you won’t always be okay with me being so set in my ways. We’re different people, we work differently. We have different minds. But we match pretty well, right?”

Janis nods and cuddles closer, but doesn’t say anything.

“I love you exactly as you are, wild decisions and all. We’ll work through stuff as it comes, but don’t think for a second that I’m ever going to stop loving you. I love the impulsivity because it’s part of you, and I love you,” Cady concludes. “And I hope you’re feeling better, because I’ve already used up a good chunk of my vows here and I still need material for the real ones.”

Janis chuckles into her chest and nods. “I’m better. I love you too. Even though you can be a stick in the mud sometimes.”

“I never understood that phrase,” Cady mumbles. “Like, if the stick is in the way of you having fun in the mud then just… pick it up and put it somewhere else.”

“I don’t think that’s what it means,” Janis chuckles. “But that is a good way to think of it. Does this mean I can pick you up and drag you out to do fun stuff?”

“You can always pick me up,” Cady chuckles, braiding little strands of Janis’ hair together. “And yes, you can sometimes make me do fun things. But I can also be the stick and stop you if you want to do something dangerous or dumb.”

“My ideas are always good,” Janis says defensively.

“Darling, you had the equivalent of about three whole cakes in one afternoon and dragged our friends down with you, sometimes your ideas aren’t great,” Cady says gently.

“Exactly. It was a great idea in theory to get it all out of the way, but it wasn’t good in practice,” Janis says.

“You should be a lawyer, you’re very good at arguing,” Cady says lovingly.

“No way, I’m done with school, thank you very much,” Janis replies.

“You’re a teacher.”

“Shhh. Quiet time.”

“Okay,” Cady giggles, kissing her forehead and drifting off for a nap alongside her fiancée.

————-

The week before the big day, both of their bachelorette parties are thrown. Cady goes off with the Plastics, while Janis gets to spend the night with Damian and Aaron.

Karen is throwing Cady’s, and she’s a little worried that her friend is going to do something crazy. She’s pleasantly surprised to find it’s just the four of them, a lot of alcohol and food, and what looks to be a spa night.

“Aww, Karen! This looks so fun, thank you!��� Cady says excitedly.

“You’re welcome! Bride emoji, balloon emoji. I wanted to do something bigger, but I don’t think you would’ve liked that. So, we get to do face masks and watch movies!” Karen says.

“Yeah, this is perfect. I love it,” Cady says.

-

Janis shows up to Damian and Aaron’s apartment, slightly nervous about what she’ll find. Damian lets her in, and she’s pleasantly surprised to find a painting set up and a fair bit of food and booze.

“Aww, Dame,” Janis says happily. “This is great! What are we doing?”

“Getting fucked up and painting stuff,” Damian replies. Aaron comes out from the kitchen with a tray of even more snacks. “And eating. And then maybe we’ll watch movies, I don’t know yet.”

Janis hugs him tightly. “This is perfect.”

“I know,” Damian jokes. “Let’s get going, you’ll have to teach us your painting extraordinaire ways.”

“I’ll try,” Janis chuckles.

————-

Cady is squished in between Gretchen and Karen on their small couch, soaking her feet in a fancy foot bath and watching Legally Blonde. Suddenly, her phone starts ringing with a Facetime call.

“Damian? What’s up?” She asks confusedly when his face pops into view.

“Um… Janis is kind of… drunk,” he says anxiously. “And crying. Can you talk to her?”

“Oh no,” Cady pouts. “Of course I’ll talk to her, where is she?” The camera flips to show Janis curled up on the ground, weeping into her knees while Aaron awkwardly tries to comfort her. Cady dries her feet off and heads into the bathroom for a bit more privacy. “Poor thing, what happened?”

“Jan, it’s Caddy,” Damian says gently, offering her the phone. “Tell her what happened.”

Janis sobs a couple times before bursting out with a very slurred sentence. “Was-was tryin’ to paint you,” she says miserably. “B-but m’ hand wouldn’ workin’. ‘N then I for-forgot what you look-look like! ‘M gonna be a terrible wife!”

“No, darling, no,” Cady says. “Love, you’re drunk. That’s why your hand wasn’t working. And it’s okay that you forgot what I look like. Again, you’re drunk, and faces are hard to memorize. It doesn’t mean you don’t love me, it’s okay.”

“You-you’re not mad?” Janis asks shyly. Her bottom lip is still jutted out sadly, but she’s not crying quite so hard anymore.

“Of course I’m not mad,” Cady says. “I think it’s so sweet that you were even trying to paint me from memory. How much have you had to drink, mpendwa?”

“Um… six.” Janis says, which explains very little.

“Six?” Damian exclaims in shock from off camera. “Jan, that was vodka, you did six shots? Jesus Christ, no wonder you’re so drunk!”

“‘M not drunk,” Janis insists. “Th’ room’s just spinny.”

“Because you’re drunk, Janis,” Aaron explains. “Let me go get you some water.”

“‘M not drunk!” Janis says again. “Was just little cups. Little baby drinks. Why ‘m I on the floor?”

“Jellybean, those were shots, and you did a lot,” Cady says. “Do what Damian and Aaron tell you to, okay? They’ll help you feel better.”

“Not th’ boss ‘f me,” Janis pouts. Cady tries to hold back a laugh. Janis is cute when she’s drunk, but Cady is glad she doesn’t have to encounter it too often.

“They are for tonight, then I’ll help with your hangover tomorrow,” Cady says. “Behave, or no cuddles.”

“No cuddles?” Janis asks in shock, and her lower lip starts trembling again. Cady mutes herself for a second to give an exasperated sigh.

“Less cuddles. I’ll cuddle you a little bit. But if you listen and actually do what they tell you to, you’ll get more cuddles,” she says. It’s all in the phrasing.

“Oh. Mmkay,” Janis says, suddenly sounding much happier. Cady sighs in relief when she sees her chug down the water. “Caddy, I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Bluejay. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cady says. “Keep drinking water.”

Janis suddenly sits upright and stares at the screen for a second. “Caddy, I can see you.”

“I know,” Cady chuckles. “I can see you too.”

“No, I can see you! Stay,” Janis says. “Can paint you now.”

“Jellybean, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cady says gently. “You should be resting. Why don’t you watch a movie with Damian and Aaron?”

Janis pouts. “But you’re not here. How ‘m I s’posed to watch movie with no Caddy?”

Cady grins at her. “I love you. Why don’t you take tonight to watch all your favorite scary movies? I’m sure we’ll be able to watch some other happy ones together tomorrow.”

“Mmkay,” Janis whines. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, darling,” Cady chuckles. “You’re very pretty too. Go get comfy.”

Janis picks herself up from the ground and heads to the couch, cuddling in with a blanket. Damian sits next to her, and Aaron sits on his other side.

“There. Keep hydrated, mpendwa. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you,” Cady says. Janis pouts when she says goodbye.

“I love you, Caddy,” she says. “G’night.”

Cady blows her kisses and hangs up before heading back to her friends.

“Everything good?” Regina asks, looking up from her phone.

“Janis got drunk and started crying because she couldn’t remember what I look like,” Cady sighs. “Give me something, I need a drink too.”

Gretchen helpfully pours her a shot of their favorite bubblegum schnapps, and Cady downs it like it’s nothing.

“Thank you. Now I really do need this spa, thanks Karen,” Cady says, settling back into her spot.

-

Janis comes stumbling into their apartment around noon the next day. Cady woke up with a slight hangover, but was right as rain after a few painkillers and some water. Janis doesn’t seem to be faring quite as well.

“Hey, love,” Cady says quietly as Janis takes her sunglasses off. Janis still winces at the volume. “Poor thing. Did you take anything?”

Janis shakes her head. “Did I call you yesterday?”

“Damian did for you, you were pretty upset,” Cady replies as she grabs some more medicine to help Janis’ hangover. “And drunk, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“I have no idea what happened, I remember trying to paint… you, I think, and then I have a vague memory of watching The Shining, and then I woke up with a hangover,” Janis mumbles, swallowing the pills and downing the water.

“You said you did six shots of vodka, but I don’t know if you had anything else,” Cady chuckles gently. “But yes, you did try to paint me. And I don’t think it went particularly well.”

“I’m not surprised. I haven’t been that drunk since… ever,” Janis says. She refills her own water cup and heads to lie on their small couch, kissing Cady on her way. Cady follows and lifts Janis’ feet onto her lap.

“Why did you drink so much?” Cady asks quietly. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not planning on doing it again, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Janis jokes. Cady gives her a look. “I know. I don’t know why I did it.”

“You still want to do this?” Cady asks. Janis snaps her head up to look at her.

“What? The wedding?” She asks. Cady nods with a hint of sadness. “Baby, of course. I’ve been looking forward to it for, like, a year. Minimum. We’re gonna be wives next week, I’m so excited.”

“Are you sure?” Cady asks. “I’ve been thinking about… me, I guess. Are you sure you want me, forever? You don’t want someone more… like you? Brave and fun and cool?”

“What? Peanut,” Janis pouts, hauling herself upright with a great deal of effort and pulling her fiancée into a cuddle. “Of course I want you. I want you as long as you’ll have me. I don’t need another me, I need you. I love you. I love your random bits of knowledge that I’ll never understand and that you’re always so worried whenever I get another stupid idea.”

“But I’m so… plain. You dye your hair wacky colors and then cut it off and paint all your clothes yourself and make art and do… cool stuff. I do calculus for fun and go to bed by ten,” Cady says. “I’m so boring.”

Janis lies back down to cuddle Cady on top of her. “You’re not boring, Butterfly. You could never be boring. You’re from Africa, for crying out loud. You tell the best stories, and you help me understand things that don’t make sense. I wouldn’t have gotten through high school or college without you. And I need someone to balance me out, you know? Keep me on a leash when I get some crazy dangerous idea. I love you as you are. You’re perfect.”

Cady nuzzles into her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. It’s like you said after the Cake Incident. We’re different people, we work differently. But we work together. We work because we balance each other out,” Janis says. “I need my Caddy.”

“I need my Jayjay,” Cady says, propping herself back up and leaning down to kiss her. Janis rests a hand on the back of her head to keep her close for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Man, you took up a lot of my vows, too,” Janis says with a chuckle. “Now you have to cuddle me for the rest of the day, I’m sick.”

“You’re hungover,” Cady retaliates.

“Same difference. You said you’d take care of me,” Janis pouts.

“Always,” Cady whispers.

————-

They fly home to Illinois the next day, both feeling much better. They’ve decided to spend the rest of the week apart, to make their wedding that much more special. Neither of them is particularly looking forward to their separation, but they know it’ll be worth it.

Their friends and family follow them to Illinois over the next few days while Cady and Janis run around town making sure everything is in order. The venue is perfect, Janis managed to get the cake in order, and everything else was handled months in advance. Julie gives them both a practice version of her speech, which they love. For a barely-seventeen year old, Juliana is an excellent writer.

-

Janis lies awake in her childhood bedroom the night before their big day. She feels almost the way she did the night before an exciting school trip as a child. But better.

She flips onto her other side and looks at the glowing green numbers on her clock. One in the morning. What to do? She’s already not used to sleeping without Cady by her side, and now with the added excitement that comes with tomorrow, Janis may never sleep again.

She only has to think for about two minutes before she makes her decision, rolling out of bed and tugging on some shoes before sneaking out her front door.

Janis zones out a bit on her way to Cady’s house, snapping back to attention when she almost walks past it. She grins to herself as she starts climbing up the same tree she used to climb to get to her girl’s window in high school.

She’s surprised to find Cady already there, sitting on the desk chair she’s pulled over and peering out the window. Cady jumps a little but grins widely as Janis’ face suddenly pops up on the other side.

“I was hoping you would come,” she whispers as she pulls the window open to haul Janis in.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Janis asks once she’s safely inside, closing the window quietly behind her. Cady shakes her head. “I couldn’t either.”

Cady reaches for her, so Janis comes to pull her in for a kiss. They still try to hold back a little bit, to keep something special for tomorrow, but neither can resist the taste and feeling of their love.

They jump apart when a massive crack of thunder booms outside. Cady peeks around Janis to find rain slamming against her window. She grins to herself and takes Janis’ hand, hauling them towards the door.

“Where are we going?” Janis asks in confusion. Cady isn’t a big fan of storms, maybe she’s taking them to hide. Instead, Cady tiptoes them to the back door and slides it open, running into the backyard in her pajamas and bare feet. “Peanut, what are you doing?!”

Cady spins around with her arms far out to her sides like the opening to The Sound of Music, the rain soaking her to the bone. She reaches for Janis, who toes off her shoes and tentatively goes to join her fiancée.

“You’re insane,” Janis says when she reaches her. “What are we doing?”

“Dance with me,” Cady says, reaching for her. Janis comes to her embrace confusedly, holding onto Cady’s waist while she grabs Janis’ neck. They’re only illuminated by the distant streetlights and occasional flash of lightning, and waltzing to the music of the thunder.

Janis thinks she understands after a while. They’re both totally soaked, their clothes dripping and hair clinging to their shoulders. But as she’s held close to her love and staring into her eyes, she feels warmer and safer than she ever has before.

“I love you,” Janis murmurs against Cady’s lips, kissing her tenderly as the raindrops mingle on their cheeks.

“I love you too,” Cady says back. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Janis smiles against her and scoops her up. Cady squeals in surprise and clings to her tightly as Janis spins them around a few times. Janis tips her face up to see her, and Cady presses their foreheads together to stare into her eyes.

They stay like that for a while, lost in each other while the weather roars around them. After a while, Janis pipes up. “What if it rains tomorrow?”

“Then we’ll dance in it again,” Cady says. “We’ll still be married. We’ll still be with everyone we love. It’ll still be a good day.”

Janis wonders how she found someone so perfect. Little does she know, Cady is wondering the same. They lean in for another kiss at the same time. Janis rests Cady on her feet again and cups her face, while her fiancée holds her waist and inches closer.

“We should-should go in,” Cady says around chattering teeth after a long moment of bliss. “It’s cold out here.”

Janis picks her back up and carries her towards the door. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“You always do,” Cady whispers contently.

She fetches them some towels and clean pajamas and puts their old ones in the dryer. Janis follows her into bed, curling around her in their familiar way. Cady cuddles in close and inhales her comforting scent, this time getting hints of the rain they were just in.

They both drift off with a smile when they remember that this is their new forever, and their last night as just fiancées.

-

Janis wakes up early and sneaks back to her own house, but gets instantly busted by Julie when she comes down for breakfast.

“How was she?” Julie asks.

“What?” Janis asks with mock confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Those aren’t your pajamas, and you definitely didn’t have them on last night. How is Cady?” Juliana insists.

“She’s fine,” Janis says meekly. “You should be a detective.”

“She’s, like, half your size. I don’t have to be a detective to see those pajamas clearly aren’t yours,” Julie says with a chuckle. “Come eat, stupid, it’s your big day.”

“Julie,” their mother chides as she comes down the stairs to join them for breakfast. “How was Cady, baby girl?”

“You too?” Janis asks.

“You’re not exactly sneaky, honey,” their mom chuckles. “I heard you leave. There’s only one place you would’ve gone. Nice pajamas, by the way.”

Janis groans and smacks her head on the table.

————-

Cady starts pacing once Regina finishes her hair and makeup. She looks killer, she has to admit, but the nerves are starting to set in.

“Cades, chill. Talk to me, what’s going on?” Regina says cooly, helping fix a stray curl of Gretchen’s.

“What if… what if she lied? Or she gets up there and realizes she doesn’t want me after all?” Cady says anxiously, drumming her hands against her crossed arms.

“Cady, have you seen the way she looks at you? The way you are together?” Gretchen asks gently. “She’s still head over heels for you.”

“But… but what if-“ Cady tries, this time getting cut off by Karen.

“Cady, listen for a second,” Karen says, remarkably soothingly. Cady calms enough that she stops pacing for a second. “If this wasn’t happening. If you weren’t getting married today, would you have any doubt that Janis loves you, like, a lot? If this was just another day together for you. Would you be this scared?”

“No,” Cady admits.

“It’s just because this is, like, a symbol of permanence or whatever,” Karen shrugs. “You love each other, but this is still kind of a big adjustment for you. It’s okay that you are, but you shouldn’t be scared.”

Cady blinks as she tries to process the words of wisdom from Karen. “I-yeah, okay. Thanks, Karen.”

“You’re welcome! Now come get dressed,” Karen insists happily, brandishing Cady’s outfit for the ceremony.

Cady takes it happily and pulls it on.

—————

Janis is also panicking in another room a little ways away. Damian is chasing her around with his makeup brushes, trying to finish his masterpiece.

“Janjan, at least stop moving,” he begs.

“There’s no point to the makeup because… there’s… I don’t even know! I can’t do it,” Janis says anxiously.

Damian collapses onto the chair formerly occupied by Janis for a break. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why?” Damian repeats. “Why do you think you can’t do it?”

“Because… because she deserves better,” Janis says. “Someone better.”

“But what does she want?” Damian asks. They’ve had this conversation several times since Cady and Janis got together. “Jan. What does Caddy want?”

“Me,” Janis whispers after a beat. “But-“

“Ah! Ah-ah-ah.” Damian interrupts. “What do you want most for Caddy?”

“For her to be happy,” Janis says immediately.

“And who makes her happy?” Damian prompts.

“Me,” Janis admits with a pout.

“Exactly. You are what she deserves. You are her ‘better’. You’re her best, because you both deserve happiness, and that’s what you give each other,” Damian says quietly. “Today is just supposed to celebrate your love. Now sit your ass down so I can make you pretty.”

Janis pouts harder, but does sit back down in her seat and let Damian finish his work.

————-

An hour later, it’s finally time. Damian heads down first, scattering flower petals down the cloth they’re using for an aisle. Everyone chuckles as he does it in his typically dramatic fashion, adding a personal flair to every handful tossed.

He comes back and grabs Aaron, and they head down together, followed by Julie and Gretchen, and then Karen and Regina. Julie runs back down as well, walking Janis down the aisle along with their mom.

Janis grins slightly as she passes the front row and sees the framed photo of her dad next to another framed picture of Cady’s brother, side by side in the empty seats. There’s a rainbow sash draped over each picture frame, to include them both in the ceremony as they should’ve been.

Janis kisses her mom on the cheek as she stands at the altar, and grins at Julie as she heads behind it to prepare. She’s adjusting her white blazer when the music suddenly kicks off again, and she looks down to see Cady coming down the aisle with her parents.

They’re leaving the dresses for the reception since Gretchen had practically begged them to. The dresses took much more time to design and construct, so she wanted them to get as much wear out of them as possible.

But Cady looks absolutely stunning in her tight white pants and top, complete with a cape that accentuates her shoulders. There’s a positively radiant smile on her face as she makes her way to Janis. Cady hugs her parents tightly as they reach the end of the aisle, before coming to stand in front of her fiancée. They join hands instinctively, giving each other little squeezes.

They’re absolutely lost in each other as Julie begins, staring into each other’s eyes and barely hearing the words being spoken and reactions from the crowd. They also miss the prompt to begin their vows. Cady jumps in surprise when Gretchen pokes her in the back and hands over the ring.

Cady takes the ring with her shaky hands and rests it on the tip of Janis’ finger so she doesn’t drop it, pulling some note cards out of her pocket with her other hand. She clears her throat quickly and begins her vows.

“Janis,” Cady says, squeezing Janis’ hands. “My darling, my Bluejay, my love. When you found me in the bathroom all those years ago, I could’ve never imagined that we’d be here today. But I couldn’t be happier that we are.”

Janis squeezes her back and tries to resist the urge to kiss her before they’re allowed to. Cady takes a deep breath as the tears start flowing and continues.

“One of the last big speeches I made was our junior year Spring Fling. That was… a big day for both of us, but anyway. In that speech, I equated our entire graduating class to stars. I stand by it, but I’ve realized something since then. If everyone is a star, then you are my North Star. You’re the one that shines the brightest, and the one I can always count on to be there. But most importantly, you are the star that guides me home. I just have to follow you, and I’m right where I need to be. You are my home. I promise to love you, always. I promise to help you shine when you feel like you can’t, and to guide you home when you feel lost. We’ll be each other’s brightest star. I love you, more than all the stars in the sky.”

Janis sniffles a few times as Cady slides the rest of the ring on and repeats after Julie, processing the most beautiful words she’s ever heard. It’s her turn then, which she’s violently reminded of when Damian jabs her in the back. She straightens abruptly and pulls out her own cards. Janis re-wrote her vows this morning and quite literally ran them by Damian for a proofread, so she’s desperately hoping they’re suitable.

“Cady,” Janis begins. “That’s the first and last time I’m ever going to pronounce your name correctly, so I hope you enjoyed it.”

Cady chuckles thickly around her tears and squeezes her hands. Janis takes a deep breath and continues, trying to keep the shake from her voice.

“I want to take this time to thank you. For loving me even when I eat too much cake, or get drunk and call you in tears because I can’t work out how to paint you. I want to thank you for being my sunshine. For teaching me how to dance in the rain, and for showing me how good it can be. For showing me what it means to be loved, and letting me know how to love you in return. You light up even my stormiest days, by just being there to weather them out with me. You are the only sunshine I’ll ever need, and I promise to return the favor. I can’t promise I’ll be able to help you through everything we’ll ever go through, but I can promise to love you through everything. I promise to be the light when you feel you can’t show yours, and to help you dance in the rain when the clouds won’t part. I love you more than anything under the sun.”

Cady lets out a choked sob as she finishes, and they both quickly fumble through getting her wedding ring on. Julie coaches them through the other vows and ‘I do’s’ and then says the magic words.

“By the power vested in me by an online class I took in ten minutes, I now pronounce you wives. You can kiss,” Julie says, mumbling an “If you must.” Under her breath afterwards.

Cady practically lunges for her, grabbing Janis’ face and pulling her into the most important kiss they’ll ever share. They both pour all the emotions they’re feeling into it, but break apart after just a few seconds to keep things chaste for their families. Janis smiles wider than she ever has before and rests their foreheads together.

“Hi wife,” she whispers contently, glad to finally be rid of the dreaded fiancée title. Cady grins back at her and wraps her arms around her neck.

“Hi wife,” she says back. “We gotta go.”

Janis is snapped back to reality at that, remembering they’re not alone. She grabs Cady’s hand and leads them back down the aisle, together this time. Once they reach the end of it, Cady leaps into her arms. Janis catches her and spins them around joyfully.

“Janis, you’re my wife,” Cady whispers once the dizzying sensation fades.

“And you’re my wife,” Janis says back. “You look so beautiful.”

“So do you,” Cady says. “I can’t wait to see your dress.”

“Then let’s go,” Janis murmurs, kissing her gently and carrying her wife away.

————-

Their moms each help them put their dresses on, since they take just a bit of wiggling. Cady’s is short sleeved, with a tight bodice and a poofy skirt. The top layer is lace, with rainbow flowers around her neckline that fade out into the white around her waist. She feels like a princess.

Janis’ has long lace sleeves, and the whole thing is more uniform. Her skirt is flowy more than poofy, and her rainbow gradient goes the opposite way. She looks like she’s been walking through rainbow flower petals that gradually fade into the white of her dress as you look up. She feels like a fairy.

They decide to do a ‘first look’ now, in their dresses and technically officially married. Each of them hides behind a tree and pops out when Regina, their photographer yet again, gives them the cue.

Cady gasps when she sees her wife and reaches for her eagerly. Janis shuffles over and lets Cady pull her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” Cady murmurs. “Look at you, my love. How did I get so lucky?”

Janis blushes violently and leans down to kiss her. “You look incredible. And you got your swishy skirt.”

“I know, lookit!” Cady says happily, taking a step back and shaking her hips to show off the excellent swish. Janis chuckles lovingly and snatches her back in.

“You’re adorable. Should we go?” Janis asks, kissing Cady’s nose. She distantly registers a flash from the camera.

“Do we have to?” Cady whines quietly. “Can’t I just be alone with my wife?”

Janis grins. “Later. Don’t you want to see if the cake was worth it?”

Cady perks up a little bit at that. “Oh, yeah! Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

————-

Kevin announces their arrival at the reception, which is happening in exactly the same place at the ceremony but with a new massive tent put up to keep away bugs. Surprisingly, Kevin is doing an excellent job. They gave him the rule of ‘no original material’ which has kept them mostly safe. He’s honestly not a bad DJ.

Janis and Cady enter hand in hand to the cheers of their friends and family and head to the floor for their first dance. They chose Tale as Old as Time from Beauty and the Beast, the first song they ever danced to together as a couple way back in high school.

They sway gently around and stare into each other’s eyes. Janis notices Cady whispering things under her breath as they move.

“What are you saying?” She murmurs gently against Cady’s lips.

“I love you,” Cady whispers back. “In all the languages I know. And the ones I don’t.”

Janis smiles at her. “I love you so much. In all the languages I speak.”

“All two?” Cady chuckles. Janis nods.

“And the rest that I don’t. I love you more than any language could say,” Janis murmurs.

“Stop trying to be cuter than me, it’s working too well,” Cady whines. Janis chuckles.

“I’m not trying to, it’s just happening,” she whispers. Cady rolls her eyes but presses in for another kiss. The song comes to an end and they begrudgingly break apart for their parent dances. Janis dances with her mom and sister while Cady dances with her parents. Janis looks almost longingly at the photos of her dad and Rhys. She and Cady wish their whole families could’ve been present, but they’ve definitely felt them around all day.

After the dances it’s time for cake, Janis’ other big reveal. Cady looks very impressed with what she managed to put together. Even after The Incident, Janis went with three tiers. Lemon on the bottom, chocolate fudge cake in the middle, and white on the top. Janis refused to allow fondant anywhere near it, so the cake is covered in white buttercream and has a rainbow of frosting flowers spiraling up the sides diagonally.

Cady pouts when they have to cut into its beauty. They carefully cut out a piece and grab the forks, feeding each other the first bite. They both independently decide to try to smear the first one on each other’s face, but both laugh and actually taste it with the second.

Cady tenderly wipes some stray frosting off of Janis’ cheek and pulls her in for yet another kiss as the party goes on around them. “Today was perfect.”

Janis nods in agreement, kissing her back gently. “It was. I love you, wifey.”

“I love you too, wifey,” Cady giggles. “So much.”

They chat lightly with their guests for a while as everyone dances and celebrates, until Janis notices Cady slip out of the tent alone. Obviously Janis follows.

It’s sprinkling lightly, just barely a drizzle. Cady stands in the center of the clearing and looks up to the sky. Janis gently comes up to hug her from behind so she doesn’t startle her wife.

“Whatcha doing?” She murmurs, kissing up and down Cady’s neck gently. Cady gives a happy shudder and leans back into her.

“Checking for that,” Cady replies, pointing to the sky. Janis is confused until she looks up and sees a rainbow stretching across the sky. “And I needed a minute.”

“There’s two,” Janis realizes after looking for a second. “Look above it.”

“How fitting,” Cady breathes happily, observing the faint second rainbow just barely visible. “Thanks, nature.”

Janis chuckles and kisses her cheek. Cady turns around to face her, resting her head against Janis’ shoulder and starting to dance.

“I said we’d dance in the rain again, now we have to,” she whispers. Janis sways them back and forth as gently as she can, knowing Gretchen would have to be restrained from homicide if they got the dresses muddy. “Your vows were so beautiful.”

“So were yours, did you not see me crying?” Janis giggles. “I wrote mine this morning.”

“Really?” Cady asks, pulling back to see her. “I thought you said you already had them.”

“I did, I wrote them again. After last night in the storm,” Janis says lowly. “Everything just fell into place.”

“It did. I love you,” Cady murmurs. Janis bends down to kiss her.

“I love you too,” she says when they pull back for a second. They lean in again, before Damian throws the door to the tent open to look for them.

“Stop being cute and romantic in private, it’s time for speeches,” he insists. “And watch the dresses, princesses.”

“Okay, okay,” Cady chuckles, letting him haul them both back to their loved ones.

Regina actually goes first, giving a beautiful speech about their journey together and the things they’ve all been through, with a good smattering of jokes peppered throughout. Julie goes next and tells a story of a time when she and Janis were much younger and Janis used to sleepwalk. Julie had, evidently, woken up one night to find her sister wandering around her room and occasionally staring at her. Janis flushes in embarrassment, and then groans when she realizes that Damian is up next.

He goes on for a while, but he’s such an entertaining storyteller that nobody minds. Damian first tells the story of the time Janis accidentally broke his nose in middle school with one punch, which makes Cady look at her with raised eyebrows. Janis knows she’s going to have to tell her more of the story later. Then, Damian moves on to the story of how they rescued Cady and forcibly led her to join their little duo and become the perfect gay-fecta.

He closes with, “I’ve said for years that I’m too gay to function, so I’d never thought I’d love two women so much. Caddy, Janjan, congratulations. And remember the intervention.”

The ending is a little ominous, but Cady and Janis both laugh and clap for him as he steps away from the microphone.

-

The reception continues well into the night, and it’s nearly four in the morning by the time they help each other out of their dresses and fall into bed. Cady cuddles into her wife and stares at the rings adorning their intertwined hands.

Janis relaxes against her and nuzzles in, both of them sighing contently as they have their first married snuggle.

Until Janis suddenly sits bolt upright with wide eyes, startling Cady. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m Josh,” Janis says. “My initials.”

Cady is confused, but then she thinks of Janis’ initials. Janis Olivia Sarkisian-Heron does in fact spell Josh. Cady bursts out laughing as Janis cuddles into her with a whine.

“My poor sweet wife,” Cady giggles hysterically. “You agreed to the name.”

“I didn’t think! I didn’t know it would make me a Josh,” Janis moans.

“Do you want to change it?” Cady says, stroking through Janis’ dark hair and twisting little bits together. Janis shakes her head.

“I can live with it,” Janis sighs. “I like it. It’s our name.”

“I like it too. I’m Cady Jane Sarkisian-Heron now,” Cady replies.

“And someday soon you’ll be Doctor Cady Jane Heron and I get to be your trophy wife,” Janis says happily. Cady bursts into laughter again.

“Wouldn’t I be Doctor Sarkisian-Heron?” She asks once she calms down a bit.

“If you really want to, but I am absolutely not going through all the schooling to get a PhD in math,” Janis says. “The Sarkisian part of you has nothing to do with it. I’m just here for moral support.”

“That’s a good point,” Cady admits. “We should sleep, we have a flight tomorrow.”

“To Africaaaaaaa,” Janis replies, stretching the end as long as she can. Cady giggles and cuddles her closer.

“You’re a goof. I love you,” she whispers, tipping them onto their sides and resting her forehead against her wife’s. Janis pouts at the lack of kisses, so Cady peppers a few on her lips until she’s satisfied.

“I love you too,” Janis murmurs back. “Goodnight wife.”

“Goodnight Josh.”

“Hey!”

-

hope you enjoyed!

request status is still the same, but I am making progress and hope to have them re-opened soon.

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

[thatsaweirdwaytospellundead]

Senribana Monogatari 2/11

Summary: Due to Citron’s work as the Zahran Minister of Culture and Arts there has been a surge in interest in foreign culture in Zahra. Prince Tangerine gives his brother a call, but it seems he has more on his mind than just an invitation..

Note: This event references a popular Japanese fairytale titled “The Story of the Old Man Who Made Withered Trees to Blossom”, I encourage you to read it here!

This is a 10 part story with an epilogue.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10]

Epilogue “The Story of the Old Man Who Made Withered Trees to Blossom”

Citron  

Hello everyone, I have some great shoes!

Homare  

Shoes, huh? Where?

Citron  

WE’RE GOING TO PERFORM IN ZAHRA!

Izumi  

WHAT!?

Citron  

Tangerine told me that the interest in foreign culture has surged amongst the Zahran youths and has asked me for help promoting foreign culture.

And I thought the best way to do that would be to perform a play in Zahra!

Sakyo  

I see.. A performance in Zahra you say? I had a feeling you would suggest that.

Citron  

And I was just informed by Tangerine that the king has already approved of the plan!

Itaru  

Wow, you guys get things done fast over there.

Sakyo  

Hmm well we have already performed in Zahra. We held the encore performances for Winter Troupe’s opera and Spring Troupe’s Quartet there. I’m guessing this time will be different from the previous performances.

A performance officially endorsed by the Zahran royal family would certainly add to our already high prestige as an acting troupe.

Izumi  

I couldn’t think of a more perfect idea!

Tenma  

So you’re saying the royal family is really going to give us their official endorsement? Well then we can’t let ourselves flop. Wait and doesn’t that mean the contents of the performance would have to go through some close inspection first?

Banri  

If we’re going to Zahra we should leave it to Spring and Winter since they have experience.

Tsumugi  

Since you put it that way, maybe we should do a mixed performance.

Citron  

I want to play the lead.

Izumi  

I agree, Citron would be the ideal candidate to perform the lead in a play for the children of his home country.

Sakyo  

And not to mention you’re quite popular over there.

Sakuya  

I agree!

Tsuzuru  

So then, Citron, what kind of play were you thinking?

Citron  

Well.. When I think we should do something that captures the essence of Japan. Like.. KABUKI!

Izumi  

Kabuki?

Citron  

I want to teach the children of Zahra that their dreams can come true even in a different country!

Tsuzuru  

That sounds nice. It seems like it will be a bit difficult to write such a play, but I am up for the challenge.

Yuki  

The costumes will probably be a bit tough, but I’m excited.

Kazunari  

Super vibing just thinking about these kabuki inspired costumes yoooo!!!

Tasuku  

I know a bit about kabuki to a certain extent so I’m willing to help in any way I can.

Tsuzuru  

Thanks.

Izumi  

Now that we decided the theme of the performance, let’s decide who is going to be in it.

Sakuya  

Me, I want to perform!

The Zahran people were so kind during our training camp so I am definitely interested in performing again for them in this mixed performance..

Citron  

With Sakuya with us, we’ll be so strong!

Izumi  

I see..

Tangerine  

<< KABUKI!? I am sooo soooooo happy that you’re gonna perform over here! And on top of that you’re gonna do Kabuki! >>

Citron  

<< I am glad to hear you’re excited, we’ll do our best. >>

Tangerine  

<< Oh.. Are you going to invite Orange and Navel to the performance? >>

Citron  

<< .. Hmm, well I guess I don’t mind them coming. >>

Tangerine  

<< Got it. Alright so once we get the schedule and other details figured out I’ll give you a call. >>

Citron  

<< Thanks. >>

Tangerine  

<< Good luck on your practice! >>

Citron  

<< Thank you. Talk to you soon. >>

..

Azuma  

Isn’t it a little too early for flower viewing.

Guy has made some jasmine tea. How about we have a cup together?

Citron  

Ohh looks delicious. Sure I’ll have a sip!

Azuma  

Did you tell Prince Tangerine about our Kabuki play?

Citron  

Yeah, he was really excited. Kabuki is pretty popular overseas.

Azuma  

I guess it is all thanks to the prince that Japan has become popular over there.

Citron  

We got so many people wanting to study abroad, soon enough we’re gonna have to form a Zahra Troupe at Mankai!

Azuma  

Hmm, sounds fun.

.. And how are your other two brothers?

Citron  

—

Azuma  

Apologies if it is a sensitive topic.

Citron  

Jason in the wall, Bloody Mary in the mirror, Citron behind you back. Azuma above your head.

Azuma  

Fufu, that makes it sound like I’m some sort of ninja. I am not here to eavesdrop. 

I don’t know that much Zahran so I couldn’t understand what you were saying. All I know is I heard those two names mentioned.

Citron  

You got sharp ears.

Azuma  

Fufu, I just think they have cute names.

Citron  

Cute.. That’s not a word often used to describe those two.

Azuma  ..

By the way, do you have sakura in Zahra?

Citron  

No, we don’t. When I was younger I really wanted to see them so I looked up how I could grow them myself. Sadly the climate and maintenance for them is just not possible in Zahra.

But I didn’t want to give up so I planted some artificial sakura flowers in the garden.

Azuma  

Oh, you really did love Japan.

Citron  

At that time I don’t think I really knew I loved Japan, but I was engrossed in a particular Japanese picture book.

Azuma  

Picture book?

Citron  

It’s the one called “The Story of the Old Man Who Made Withered Trees to Blossom!”

Azuma  

Oh, you’re talking about the old fairytale with Hanasaka Jiisan?

Citron  

YEP!

It just goes to show you, no matter what absurdity happens, an honest man always gets his reward. So I worked hard, knowing that there was someone always watching over me.

Azuma  

Do you think you ended up getting rewarded in the end?

Citron  

All I can say is that I am thankful I believed in the story.

Azuma

Then I am sure you will be able to express your feelings through the play to the rest of the Zahran people.

Citron  

.. I hope so.

To be continued.. Read part 3 here!