#except instead of setting a fish free after catching it you get to lay down in your hole

[rodismancave]

You will never know the joys, the intricacies and delights of digging a hole at 3 am on the beach when the sand is cold and nobody’s around and you’re just digging and digging. You’ll never know what that’s like… unless you indulge… give in to the urges

[spinchip]

The Skirt

Pairings: background jaya Wordcount: 3700 Warnings: ask to tag Summary: Zane gets caught admiring a skirt at the store, but he knows the rules. Boys aren’t allowed to wear that stuff... right?

It’s a sweet, simple sort of thing, where it lays across the mannequins thighs. It’s a high waisted skirt in pale pink, long pleats that fold nicely. It’s paired with a tight white long sleeve shirt tucked in, and a gaudy hot-pink trench coat, and a pair of beige booties. The outfit is nice- the jacket a little much for his own personal taste, but cute in it’s own way. He glances down at his own hips and back up, imagining how the skirt would look against his skin. He reaches out and touches along the bottom of it, feeling the smooth fibers, wondering not-seriously if they had it in his size- not that he would buy it. Not that he should even be thinking about buying it, or how it might look on, or how it might feel-

Nya rounds the corner of the aisle he’d lost himself in.

Zane jumps away from the fabric as if it’d bitten him, nearly knocking over a rack of expensive sunglasses, a hot flush of shame crawling up his throat. He clenches his hands at his side and tries to play it off by switching focus to a pair of aviators with black frames. He can see Nya as she wanders up in the reflection from the lenses, looking between him and the mannequin’s outfit he’d been examining, an inquisitive tilt to her lips.

“Zane? Do you… like this?” She reaches up to smooth out the pleats of the skirt, ruffled by his own hands.

“No.” He answers right away, not giving an inch. He fumbles to pick up a pair of sunglasses just to be doing something with his hands, and doesn’t say anything more. He knows he’s tense, but he can’t help it.

“I don’t know. I think it’s kinda cute.” She hums.

It’s… a trap, or something. Zane can’t figure out how she's trying to box him in, and it’s making him anxious, “You should buy it if you like it.” He tries, setting the glasses back with firm hands, tracing the frames of another pair.

“I don’t think the pink would match my complexion,” there’s a pause, then she tries, “It would look really good on you-”

“I do not like it.” He cuts her off, lacing his voice with steel, shoulders hunching. He strides away from her without glancing back, he doesn’t want to see the look on her face, he doesn’t want to know if she was laughing at him. She’d laughed at him before, in his pink apron, and she'd called him cute then too.

Her voice had been filled with cruel edged mirth, “He’d looked so cute in it!” as he retreats from their food fight, an unfamiliar feeling he’s learned was embarrassment welling up in his chest, making his processor hot. He threw that stupid apron away. He announced his hatred towards pink over and over again. He didn’t need to lose all his progress with a moment of weakness.

He did not like how it felt when his friends laughed at him.

The others are trailing around the store at their own pace, and Zane is lucky only Nya caught him- and even then, he has plausible deniability. Except now she’s lingering around him, he can see her out of the corner of his eye, so he sticks strictly to the mens section- folding a pair of jeans over his arm and a pale blue turtle-neck he thought would go with his eyes. He doesn’t even think about looking at the lavender button up at the end of the rack- he’d learned over the years. Lavender and pastel colors, they were just as bad as pink, even if it was in the mens section, or gender neutral. Sometimes he worries about the light blues he tended to favor, but any blue was okay all the time, probably. They hadn’t made fun of him yet.

He’s looking through a pile of joggers when Nya calls out, “Zane!”

She catches his attention and Jay and Cole as well, holding up a white dress from the rack. It’s a beautiful summer dress, white straps lined with lace leading into a sweetheart neckline, eye closures down the center before it breaks into a delicate and flowy trumpet skirt, “Isn’t this pretty?” She asks, smiling encouragingly.

It is. If you had asked him what kind of dress he’d like to wear, he would be thinking of this dress while he told you none at all.

She’s making fun of him.

He wilts a little, drawing in on himself, and swallows past the painful lump in his throat, “I suppose.” He grits out.

“Hey, why not ask me?” Jay pipes up, “I’m your boyfriend.”

Nya jumps, as if Jay’s presence in the conversation was a surprise.

“It is pretty,” Cole comments, squinting at it from the tank tops he’d been pawing through, “Not really your style, though.”

Nya shakes her head and opens her mouth, “No, I-” She stalls, glancing at Zane- who’s looking increasingly upset, “I was thinking about trying something new...” she trails off.

Jay meanders over, “Well, you should probably get a different size. This is way too big.” He comments, looking it over.

“Yeah… right.” Nya says, and Zane slips away from them quietly.

-

When he gets back to his room, he sets his bags from the mall on the bed and starts to pull out his new clothes. Nya had let it go, in the end, and hadn’t teased him about his slip up after the dress thing, so the rest of the trip had been nice. They’d stopped at the food court for lunch and spent some time in the skateboard shop so kai could buy some new wheels, and then an hour and a half goofing around at the arcade before they’d called it a day.

Zane folded his new pants and tucked them into the dresser, reaching blindly into his bag while thinking about what to make for dinner.

All thoughts of food vanish from his head when he pulls out the pale pink skirt he’d been admiring.

He drops it and jerks his hands back to his chest, spinning around as if to catch Nya jump out from behind a potted plant and shout aha! Caught ya! ...but no one is there. He’s alone. He approaches the offending article of clothing cautiously, digging his receipt out from his bag while already certain he won’t see the skirt listed there. Nya must have bought it and slipped it in with his things, there’s no other explanation. It’s his size. Why? Is there a… a joke here? What is Zane not getting?

He should take it back to her and let her return it, probably. He picks it up and tosses it in the trashcan next to his desk instead, and puts away the rest of his clothes with hands he makes sure don’t shake. He doesn’t entertain the idea of trying it on. Pink and lavender weren’t allowed, skirts- skirts were worse. A pink skirt… he shakes his head, hanging up a new turtle neck, and leaves the skirt behind in the darkness of his room.

Nya sits up a little straighter when he comes into the living room, “How was… putting away your clothes?” She finishes clunky, fishing for his reaction to her prank.

“Fine.” He says without breaking stride, crossing into the kitchen and plucking his plain white apron up off the hook, sliding it over his head and getting to work.

Except, even as he chops onions and serves dinner and eats with his friends, even as they play video games and watch a movie, he can’t stop thinking about the skirt. It’s there, in the back of his mind- he’d always liked skirts, thought they were pretty and sweet. He used to dream about buying nice skirts and dresses when he could afford it, different kinds for different occasions like maxi dresses and pencil skirts, but this was before he knew it was silly and laughable. Before it was wrong.

When the night finally comes to a close, and he retires back to his room, he makes a bee line for his trashcan and delicately pulls the skirt out. He sets it on his bed and pats out the wrinkles, appreciating the craftsmanship.

He locks the door and undresses, sliding the skirt over his hips. He zips it in place and takes a step towards the mirror before he hesitates, throwing off his blue hoodie and digging up a tighter white turtleneck. It’s the closest thing he has to the outfit the mannequin was wearing that he’d liked so much. He smooths down the pleats, playing with the edge- something tight and uncomfortable in his chest loosens, and he breathes easier. It’s nice. It feels… like he always thought it would.

He steps in front of the mirror. He fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater, smiling at his reflection. He looked good, the skirt fits perfectly. He poses even though it makes him feel a little immature, striking several different stances, turning around to see all the angles. He’s got the perfect set of shoes to pair with this-

He stops halfway to his closet, standing in the middle of his room wearing a skirt he loves, reality rushing back.

He takes the skirt off, pulling on a pair of pajama pants, and folds it nice and neatly. He unlocks his door and walks across the monastery to Nyas bedroom, knocking politely. There’s a long pause before he can hear her footsteps on the hardwood. The door opens and she squints at the hallway light, blinking up groggily at Zane, “Huh?” She quips eloquently.

He holds the skirt out and drops it, she fumbles to catch it, “Return it.” he tells her, “I do not want it.”

She blinks, her sleep addled mind processing before it connects, “Zane,” She shakes her head, holding it out, “It’s yours, I saw you looking at it- it’s a nice skirt, it would look nice on you.”

He refrains from saying it does. He frowns hard, he doesn’t get it- she sounds so sincere, but he knows the rules, “I do not understand the joke. Am I supposed to wear this so you may laugh at me?”

Nya looks lost, “Laugh?”

“Like my pink apron.” He explains, huddling into himself, “Except this is worse.”

Understanding lights up her face with shame and sadness, “Zane… I-”

“Return it.” He insists, pushing the skirt back towards her, and then hesitates, “Please. Do not tell the others.”

He takes a step back and nods, turning away and bidding a hasty retreat. When he gets back to his room he stubbornly refuses to think about how freeing it was, how good it felt. He stamps down any longing as he crawls into bed, and falls asleep most certainly not filled with regret.

-

The following morning, Nya slinks into the kitchen as Zane and Kai are putting together breakfast looking like a kicked puppy. She keeps throwing inconspicuous sad eyes at Zane that he’s stubbornly refusing to acknowledge, but she thankfully doesn’t let the others catch on or else she might be forced to tell them what was bothering her.

After breakfast, she offers to help Zane with the dishes, and meets his “I do not require assistance,” With polite insistence, where she ends up washing as he dries and puts them away.

It isn’t until they’re nearly done that she organizes her thought’s enough to turn to him as he puts away the final stack of plates and says, “I think you should keep the skirt.”

He feels himself grow tense, closing the cupboard slowly before he looks at her, turning around to face her and scrutinizing her expression hard. He tries to dissect her intentions, tries to figure out why she’s saying this- he knew Nya had joined in on the teasing before, but he didn’t think she would push so hard. All his previous data suggests she doesn’t have a cruel streak like this in her, but she’s been keeping the joke going hard.

He entertains the idea that she really is being sincere, but that doesn’t make sense either, because there were rules. Zane had to figure them out fast when he was younger and newly exposed to the world- You have to make eye contact when conversing with people to be respectful, asking for explanations to jokes ruins the fun, and boys should never wear girl clothes. If you broke the rules, you were weird, and people laughed at you, and they made fun of you.

“No thank you.” He says stiffly, turning away and rinsing out the sink, “I do not like it.”

She looks miserable, “I’m sorry we laughed.”

He shakes his head and doesn’t respond, the conflicting information making his head hurt, leaving her alone in the kitchen.

-

A week later, the team has another rare day off. They’d set aside the day to go to the park, and Zane was looking forward to it. He’d spent the previous day in between patrols picking up ingredients to pack the perfect picnic. Cole throws open the door to the kitchen as Zane finishes packing up his basket, hauling a large cooler behind him.

“Hey frosty!” He greets, popping the lid on the cooler and fishing out waters and juice from the fridge, “Aren’t you gonna be hot dressed like that?” He comments.

Zane glances down at his jeans and t-shirt in comparison to Cole’s tanktop and shorts combo, “I am the master of Ice.” He points out, “I don’t get hot.”

Cole concedes his point with a dip of his head, “Speaking of master of ice, can I get a little help with keeping the drinks cool?”

Zane nods, waving a hand over the cooler and packing the drinks with snow and ice. Cole thanks him as Zane hefts up his basket, the two meeting the rest of their team on the deck of the bounty. Nya perks up as they come out on deck, and steps aside so the two can see their teammates.

Jay already looks overheated, miserably melting under the sun. Lloyd seems unbothered, dressed in a sleeveless hoodie and shorts. Kai basks in the sun, smiling brilliantly, wearing a t-shirt and…

Zanes processor stutters, “Are you wearing a skirt?” He asks neutrally, blinking down at Kai’s maroon pleats.

“Yeah,” Kai glances down at the fabric, “Nya gave it to me, it doesn’t fit her anymore. Isn’t it cute?”

Zane has no idea how to respond, so Cole beats him to it, “Looks good, dude, but how are we supposed to play frisbee?”

“I got shorts on underneath so I don't accidentally flash anyone.” Kai waves his hand dismissively, and no one else comments on the wrongness of the outfit.

Tentatively, Zane says, “You… like to wear skirts?”

Kai frowns, mistaking the hesitance for judgement, “Is that a problem for you?”

Zane looks away, “Not at all.” He says, confusion making his voice stiff, missing the way the others glance at his tone of voice disapprovingly.

They go to the park, and Zane can’t stop looking at Kais skirt. He finds himself frowning at the other man more than once, shaking the confusion out of his head and trying to ignore it. Did it… really not matter that Kai was wearing a skirt? Cole had complimented him, and Jay hadn’t said anything against it either. He finds himself not joining in on the frisbee game most of the time, focusing on getting the picnic set up to hide how he was too mixed up to focus on the sport. Soon enough, the others wrap up their game and join Zane on the blanket Nya had packed.

They eat and chat idly, and Kai sighs in content after he’s finished, sitting back, “That was amazing as always, Zane!”

Zane doesn’t look at him as he puts away his own half-eaten sandwich, “Thank you.” He says simply, lost in thought.

“Zane.” Jay says, and Zane glances up at him. He startles slightly at the way Jay is looking at him, pointedly disapproving, “Why are you being so weird about Kais skirt?”

“...Why aren’t you?” Zane asks genuinely, familiar hot shame crawling up his throat as his friends frown at him.

“Dude…” Kai mutters, clearly hurt, “Not cool.”

Shame, confusion, and guilt swallow Zane up for a long moment before it’s burned up by a flash of frustration. It didn’t make sense. They’d made fun of him years ago for his pink apron, laughed him out of the room and not bothered enough to see if he was alright afterwards because he broke the rules- he gets it, he wore the wrong clothes, it’s a funny joke… So why is Kai allowed it where Zane isn’t? Why is it funny when it’s Zane? Why does he get mocked while Kai gets defended? Defended when Zane hasn’t and wouldn’t ever make fun of him for his outfit-!

He stands up abruptly, “I’m going back to the bounty.” He announces before he turns on heel and all but runs from them.

“Zane!” Nya calls, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Let him go.” Cole says firmly, and Zane clenches his eyes shut as he boards the bounty.

His stomach churns with his tumultuous thoughts and he makes a bee line for the room they have in the bounty, crawling into his bunk bed and curling into a ball. He stares miserably at the wooden walls, thinking about too many different things.

He misses his pink apron.

He didn’t think it was funny when he saw Kai in that skirt. He thought he looked nice...

Why did they laugh at him?

-

He wakes up at the sound of quiet voices, disoriented for a moment- he didn’t remember falling asleep. He makes his way out of bed slowly, the room dark, and blinks against the harsh hallway light as he steps out of their bedroom. He rubs sleep out of his optics as they adjust to the change in atmosphere, making his way to the living room.

He stops in the doorway, looking in at his friends. Kai is still wearing his skirt, laying across the recliner sideways, his legs thrown over the edge. The others are in various states around the living room, laying on the couch or the floor asa movie plays unwatched on the TV screen, the quiet sounds what lured Zane here in the first place.

Zane’s stomach plummets as he remembers the hurt look on Kai’s face at lunch. He didn’t want to make Kai feel like he did, he didn’t want him to feel laughed at, “Kai?” He says from the doorway.

The room reacts to his voice, everyone immediately sitting up to peer at him. Jay's head poked over the back of the couch along with Coles, and Nya and Lloyd craned their heads around the couch from the floor.

“Hey, Zane…” Kai says, sitting properly in the chair.

“I want to apologize.” Zane says quietly, “I really have no issue with you wearing what you like. I am sorry I acted so oddly.”

Kai fiddles with the edge of the skirt, “It’s okay… I know.” He says just as soft, “I think we all owe you an apology too.”

Zane tilts his head in confusion, stepping into the room a little more.

Jay nods, “Yeah, Zane, we’re sorry.” He says sincerely, “We acted like total jerks about your apron.”

“My apron…” Zane’s eyes flicker to Nya, who ducks her head a little at how she obviously snitched.

“Nya told us what was bothering you, and we feel really bad about it.” Cole agrees, “We were stupid and mean. There’s nothing wrong with wearing pink.”

“Or skirts.” Kai pipes up, “I’m sorry we hurt you.”

“If you want to wear that stuff,” Lloyd adds, “No one will laugh.”

Zane blinks at the way his eyes water dangerously, looking down at the floor, “It is not… wrong?”

“No.” Kai says firmly, “We were wrong, not you. Wear what makes you happy, and we’ll be on your side.”

Zane swallows and thinks about how much he’d loved the pink skirt, how pretty he’d felt with it on, “I accept your apology.” He says with a small smile, “Thank you.”

Nya grins and with a wink says, “I think i have something that belongs to you, then.” She stands, “But first… group hug?”

Smiling, Zane holds up his arms, and the others converge on him. He hugs them back tightly, smile growing wider as he sighs happily. The frustration and hurt sliding off his shoulders makes him feel so light, and a barrier he hadn’t realized he’d raised falls to pieces.

He couldn’t wait for their next off day.

-

Which comes sooner than he expects. It’s rare to get out of patrol so often, but Lloyd insisted they make up for their slightly disasterous park trip only a few days later. Ninjago is thankfully not in terrible danger, so they decide to head to Mega Monster Amusement Park for the day- and Zane is half certain Sensei Wu allows it only because he’s craving funnel cake.

They’re supposed to leave soon, and Zane is nearly ready. He slips on a pair of white boots and laces them up, standing up and admiring his outfit in his mirror. He’s got on a loose white sweater tucked into the waistband of his pink skirt, and he adjusts it one last time before nodding in satisfaction, smiling genuinely at his reflection.

He does a little twirl because he can’t help himself before he throws open the door to his room and makes his way to the deck of the bounty, smiling as the skirt bounces and flows with every step.

He’s the last to arrive, the others all waiting for him. To his pleasant surprise, there’s no flash of anxiety as he trots over- they won’t laugh. He knows they won’t.

Nya lights up when she sees him, “Zane’s here!”

Zane happiness seems to be contagious, the others all perking up at the sight of him.

“You look really nice.” Kai compliments when he gets close, and Zane smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Yeah, that’s a nice color on you.” Cole comments.

Jay nods in agreement, “Zane looks really good, yes! Can we go to the amusement park already?”

Zane laughs, bubbly and light, “Thank you all! Jay’s right, let us go have some fun.”

As they disembark the bounty, Zane makes eye contact with Nya, and smiles softly at her. She grins in return, bumping shoulders with him, and they catch up with the others.

[jade-parcels]

For bunny AU! If request are still open, is there a favourite room in the basement among the premium members? Like what room they prefer to make out in, and who will they being in that specific room!

The different rooms in The Basement

In The Basement of Celestia’s Bunny Cafe, there are 10 rooms. 1 security booth and 9 separate bedrooms, each with different themes, where you can take a bunny boy of your choosing to spend some…’Quality time’ together.

Room 1: the basic suite 🏡

This room is modeled to look like any modern bedroom in a nice house. It gives that ‘we live together and are happily married together’ vibes that many customers enjoy! White, pristine sheets, a beautiful wooden bed frame, hanging plants and fake windows all set the scene. It almost feels like coming home after a long day of work to have some fun with your lover. Except you paid for this 0-0 this room is a classic because it was the first one to open! The basic suite and the regal suite were the only two rooms open for the first 2 months of…Basement activity offered at the cafe

This room is loved by all of the bunnies cause it’s a neutral, welcoming space. Diluc loves it!! Zhongli enjoys it but it looks a lot like his own bedroom…hmm…

Room 2: the regal suite 🌹

This room is made to feel like a royal bedroom! Something straight out of the palace of Versailles! Intricate decorations, the theme of pink and gold everywhere. Cream colored marble tiles, a veil covering the bed, pretty vases full of flowers, an old armoire in the corner where toys and extra sheets are kept. The light fixture is nice touch, it’s made to look like a little chandelier! Fake candles are also places around the room for an warm, golden glow. Faint violin music is played but it can be turned off if you’d rather fuck in silence. You’ll feel like a million bucks in here!!

Kaeya loves this room of course, he just has good taste! Albedo also likes this room, he likes the pretty glow of the fake candles :)

Room 3: the ‘bare bones’ suite 💀

This room is for those who just want to get down and dirty. This room is exactly what it sounds like. The bare minimum. A mattress on the floor and that’s it. This room is for those who plan on getting rough or messy, there’s no need to worry about breaking the bed frame or knocking anything over, the whole room is free reign. Each room has its own bathroom attached, this one is minimal as well. A shower, toilet and sink. No decorations. It’s literally…an empty room. Go wild

This is Dottore’s favorite because he doesn’t have to worry about paying his bosses back if he damages something. There’s nothing to damage!! Except you 0-0…kidding

Room 4: the 80s suite 🧡

This room is modeled after a modern day 80s aesthetic, not the old 80s where everything was wood and dingy looking. Fun, vibrant posters litter the walls, the sheets are red, orange and blue, there’s a lava lamp and funky lighting! 80s music is played and the best part is there’s a pole in the room along with an orange, plastic chair. Sit back and enjoy a show cause you very well could be getting a lap dance to Queen songs. Freddie would have wanted it this way

Ajax loves this room! He knows how to get down and groove!!…kinda.

Room 5: the club suite 👯

Laser lights, mirrored ceiling, a stripper pole and loud music, the atmosphere of this room is meant to feel like a club! It’ll get your blood pumping, that’s for sure!! When you lay back in bed, you’re met with your own reflection on the ceiling, you have a perfect view of yourself getting fucked or, instead, you can turn your attention to the pole and get a dance from your bunny too!! Bring some singles with you and make it rain!!

The better question here is ‘who doesn’t like this room?’. All of the bunnies love this room, it’s fun and energetic, it’s loud and you can be as loud as you want. Probably the most fun room available!

Room 6: the honeymoon suite 💞

This room is full of red and pink! From the heart shaped bed to the rose petals on the sheets, champagne in glasses by the bedside, the whole experience is meant to feel like a honeymoon fling. Guests love the overall feel of this room and some worry this may ruin their future honeymoon for them 0-0 uh oh!!

Baizhu loves this room because it feels very intimate! And those who pick this room usually aren’t looking for a fast, hard fuck, more like something slow and loving which he prefers as well. Diluc loves the intimate aspect of this room too, he’s here to please and he’ll take on the role of your fictional husband if that’s what pleases you. He kinda likes it too…

Room 7: the glow suite 🔮

This room is lit by black lights. Every decoration, the sheets and tiles are meant to glow. The walls are covered in swirly paint designs, the sheets are patterned and the tiles have mirrored chips in them so the whole room has a fun, funky glow to it! You’re encouraged to wear glow rings!! And glowing condoms are provided for free, they’re in a bucket buy the door! What could be more fun than a glow room???

Scramouche is a big fan of this room! It reminds him of an arcade or roller rink, which were some of his favorite places when he was younger. Ajax likes this room cause he thinks having a glow dick is funny. What an idiot lmao

Room 8: the sea suite 🌊

Like the glow suite, this room is relatively dark. However, projections of water and fish are all over the ceiling and walls. You and your bunny will both look stunning in the calming, blue light. There are faint sounds of the waves being played throughout the room, the sheets are blue silk, the floors are sparkly blue tile. The original plan was to have a water bed in here but Ninnguang realized that would be a poor investment 0-0 not everyone chooses to be gentle and nothing would kill the mood faster than popping the waterbed you’re fucking on 0-0

Dain’s favorite room by far. He loves the sound of the ocean and blue is his favorite color! Being bathed in royal blue together…Ah…Yes, this is nice

Room 9: the star suite ⭐️

The star suite is similar to the sea suite except this one has projections of galaxies and stars all over the place. The bed is in the center of the room and is in the shape of a circle. The sheets are silky smooth and soft music plays in the background. The black, glittery tiles are cool beneath your feet and the purple glow of the room is soothing as much as it is beautiful. You look so pretty in the purple light with projected stars twinkling on your skin <3 after you two are finished, you can lay on your back and watch for shooting stars

Xiao’s favorite room…He’s a bit sappy. He enjoys watching the stars with his customers after finishing, laying back to catch his breath, looking over at you to see you covered in stars. That’s a view that’ll never get old. Dain also likes this room, he does a lot of stargazing at home so this is relaxing to him too :)

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

Hold Me Tighter ||3||

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Peter and reader have a talk and Bucky overhears. 

Warnings: Swearing I think? A big of angst, fluff, Buck jumping to conclusions bc he’s a soft dummie...

A/N: Hej hej friends, it’s been a bit since i’ve posted something. My life has been wild and though i’ve been working on various things I have yet to complete said various things. Hopefully posting this gets me back into the groove. Please enjoy and give me feedback as its very much appreciated!! <3

Part ||1||   Part ||2||

~~~~~~

“Do you have an ace?” 

“Nope, go fish,” 

“Do you have a crush on Bucky?” 

You almost drop your hand full of cards on the ground as the words leave the man's mouth. 

“Wha-Peter!” 

“What? It kinda looks obvious, on both sides, but it’s like you guys or holding back or something,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly as he plucks a card from the deck before laying down another set of matches. 

You pout, “Why are you so good at this game?” 

“Answer my question first,” He laughs lightly while playfully nudging your shoulder with his fist. 

You and Peter had been the ones left at the tower while the team was on their latest mission. You felt grateful for the company, or at least you did before he started asking questions while he taught you how to play various card games. The pair of you sat facing each other, legs crossed and knees almost touching as the deck of cards sat in the middle. 

“I dunno… Maybe?” You could feel the fire in your cheeks and ears as you answered, forgetting to ask if Pete had a card and taking straight from the deck instead. 

Peter smiled widely and set down the few cards he still had, putting his full attention on you, “That’s great, Y/n! I think he likes you too! Why haven’t you guys gotten together yet? You spend like every day with each other when Bucky isn’t on a mission. He even cooks for you all the time and I’ve never seen him do that with anyone-” 

“Peter, it's not like that. I’m pretty sure he just thinks of me as like… A charity case or something. He’s helped me a lot since I’ve gotten here but it was solely because he felt obligated too. Kind of like when you find a puppy on the street,” You set your cards down to the side as well, using your free hands to nervously tangle your fingers together. 

“That's ridiculous! Y/n he calls you pet names all the time, he carries you around, I even saw him kiss your cheek before he left!” Peter points an accusatory finger at you. 

Your eyes widen in shock and you stutter before responding, “Why are you paying so much attention to us? It’s weird how much you notice...And besides, lately he hasn’t really been the same. He tells me that he’s always busy with training or meetings or something, and I get that it happens, especially with what you guys do! But it just feels like he’s been avoiding me lately,” 

“The whole team has noticed! You guys have done almost everything but make it official,” The man sighs exasperatedly before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours, a silly habit the two of you developed for serious conversations, making you giggle a bit before pushing back, “You should talk with him about it dude,”

You keep your forehead pressed against Pete's, sighing quietly before responding, “I just think… If he doesn’t feel the same way, then everything is going to change. He won’t want to spend time with me anymore, or talk to me, he won’t wanna watch movies with me… He just- he won’t be able to think of me as more than just the silly mutant that’s been obsessed with him for as long as she’s known him,” Your face had scrunched up into a scowl as you thought about what life would be like without Bucky by your side. 

“Hey, hey, hey! He won’t do that, I promise. Bucky isn’t like that, he’d never just start to ignore you or think of you as some obsessed girl. It’s obvious he cares about you a lot, and I think it would be good for both of you to talk about it,” 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start-”

“Start with how you feel, put it all out in the open,” Pete says confidently.

“That’s crazy!”

“How is it crazy?” 

“I can’t just go up to him and say, ‘Hey I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been deeply enthralled and have wanted to be with you since the first time we met!’” 

Peter was about to respond, but a deep voice interrupted, “Y/n?”

You and Pete pull your heads apart and gape at the tall brunette standing in the doorway, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown and his eyes full of confusion. “Bucky I-” 

He puts a hand up before you can continue, “I um-I gotta go shower. Sorry I interrupted you guys,” 

You sat frozen on the floor as Bucky quickly made his exit, Peter switching his gaze between you and the now empty doorway. “Oh my god-” he muttered in absolute bewilderment.

“Wh-what just happened? What should I do? Oh my god he hates me! He’ll never speak to me again-” 

“No! No, no, no it’s fine! Just a misunderstanding! You need to go after him and clear it up,” Peter tells you, hurriedly standing up before grabbing your hands and helping you stand. “You need to tell him everything Y/n. *Everything.*” 

You nod your head in agreement, starting for the doorway, “Thanks pete, I’ll see you later,” 

Peter’s response doesn’t quite register as you quickly walk down the maze of hallways, trying to find the fastest possible route to Bucky’s room. Your heart felt like it was pounding hard enough to escape your chest. 

You let out a yelp as you suddenly hit a wall, “Oh hey kid, you seen Barnes yet? He was lookin for ya,” Tony’s hands are on each of your arms to steady you as he begins to ask how your week with Peter went. 

You can’t focus on any of his questions, solely focused on fixing the mess you had made. 

“Kid? You okay?” Tony steps closer to you, his overbearing father coming out as he reaches up to check your temperature, “hmm maybe we should get you to med, you feel a little hot,” 

“Tony I’m fine-” You try and back out of his grasp but he holds onto you firmly. 

“Hey if you’re gettin’ a fever we want to catch it quick-” 

“I don’t have a fever, please-” 

“C’mon, it’ll only take a minute,”

“Oh my god, goodbye!” You huff out before pushing Tony away from you and using your power to disappear from the hallway. 

Tony lets out an annoyed sigh, “If you get anyone else sick you’re the one who’s taking care of them!” he shouts into the empty space. 

You however, had already popped up outside of Bucky’s door, your hands clenched into fists of stress and nerves. Your right hand went to open the door but when you tried to twist the handle it didn’t budge. 

“Friday can you let me in?”

“Mr. Barnes has specified to not be bothered for the time being,” The AI responded simply. 

You let out a huff of frustration, “Okay well it’s either you unlock the door and let me in or I just pop up in there, so…”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the quiet click of the door unlocking, making you smile victoriously, “Thank you, Friday,” 

Bucky was still in the bathroom with the door closed when you had entered his room. You took a quick look around before deciding to sit on the bed and wait for him to be done. Your fingers began to tangle and pull at themselves in a stressful manner and you couldn’t help the tight feeling in your chest. It only got worse when you heard the running water turn off and the sound of Bucky drying and dressing himself. 

When Bucky opens the door, the both of you freeze in place, eyes locked on to each other for what felt like ages. 

Bucky is the first to break eye contact and move, “I thought I told Friday I didn’t want any visitors,” he mumbles quietly, going over to toss the damp towel in his hands into a laundry hamper.

“I uh- I told her I would just pop in anyways…” 

“Shouldn’t invade people's privacy like that, kid,” his cold tone made you cringe, “can’t start abusing your power like that,”

“Listen Bucky, I came here to explain-” 

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me. I saw what I saw, it’s not a big deal,” he interrupts you and avoids your eyes as he begins to unpack from his mission. 

“Except I think you might not understand entirely-” you begin only to be interrupted again. 

“No! No, I get it. Pete is a good kid, good morals, good background. I can see why you’d like him, it makes sense,” Bucky’s voice was clearly stressed as he spoke and it just made your chest tighten even more. 

“Bucky no-” 

“He’s closer to your age, you have a lot in common, spend a lot of time together…”

“Why is everyone interrupting me today?” you groan out in frustration before getting up off of the bed and walking over to the disgruntled man. 

You move to sit on the other side of the duffle bag he continues to empty, still avoiding your eyes. You let out a huff of annoyance and quickly grab hold of Bucky's hands, bringing them to a pause. 

“Kid, I gotta unpack-”

“No. Not until you let me say what I need to say. Without interrupting me,” You state firmly.

Bucky visibly clenches his jaw, giving you a small nod to continue, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter-” 

“Yes I di-” “What did I just say? No interruptions!” 

Bucky sighs, “Sorry,” 

You take another breath before restarting, “You didn’t hear me say those words to Peter. You heard me telling him about what I’d say to someone else,” 

Bucky’s face scrunches up in confusion as he replays your words in his head, trying to put the pieces together, but failing. “Who were you going to say-” 

“You! Ya big dummy. I was telling Peter what I would say to you,” You blurt out with a breath of exasperation. 

Bucky shook his head, as if to try and wake himself up from a daydream, “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Of course I am, Buck. I- Peter said that it would be good for the both of us if I admitted my true feelings for you, and I didn’t know what I would say, so he suggested that I just flat out tell you, and…” You trail off, hoping the older can figure out the rest on his own. 

“And that’s when I walked in? When you had figured out what exactly you’d say?” 

“More or less, yeah,” you answer quietly, giving Bucky’s hands a gentle squeeze to try and bring even more reassurance. 

“Why were you so close to each other?” You looked back up to Bucky, a smile gracing your features as his gaze finally met yours. 

“Because we were having a serious discussion. Isn’t that what everyone does?” You ask, brows slightly knit in confusion.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “No I think that’s only you two,” 

“Oh…” 

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, mulling over what you’d like to say next and trying to organize your thoughts. When Bucky didn’t say anything for a while you decided to continue on, “So um...Do you maybe uh-maybe do you feel the same way? About me?”

Bucky doesn’t even wait a beat to answer, “Oh my god yes! Yes I’ve felt the same way for ages, doll!” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you take in the new information, “You have?”

Bucky nods his head, a smile on his face as he looks into your eyes, “Sweetheart I’ve been head over heels for you since I first caught you in midair,” he chuckles. 

You grin at Bucky and feel the familiar flickering of your powers take place, knowing your emotions were much too strong to stop it. Within the blink of an eye you had popped out of existence and popped right back up into Bucky’s lap, making him fall over in a huff of laughter. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into the softness of his hair, “What gives then you goof? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a tight squeeze, “Once you started gettin’ the hang of your powers and began training with the rest of the team, I dunno… It felt like you didn’t need me there for you anymore, I didn’t want to risk holding you back from making new friends and connections,” Your heart split in two hearing Bucky’s explanation.

You pull your face out of his lovely smelling hair and stare into the soldier's pretty blue eyes, “That’s silly Bubba. You would never hold me back! You’re the reason why I’m so comfortable around everyone now. You gave me the strength to get out of my comfort zone,” Bucky grinned at your words and shook his head, mentally chiding himself for being so foolish. 

“M’sorry lovie, I guess I got in my own head about everything. Almost messed it all up too because I got so upset when I saw you and Peter,” Your chest swelled with happiness when he calls you one of your favorite nicknames, knowing the two of you were back to normal. 

“It’s okay! I can understand why you thought what you did. But I promise I’ve only ever been deeply enthralled with you,” You laugh and push your forehead up against Bucky’s, making him let out a deep melody of chuckles. 

“Does this mean I don’t have to hold back anymore? I can love on you as much as I want?” Bucky pairs his question with an affectionate nuzzle in the crook of your neck before looking back up into your gleeful eyes. 

You giggle and brush your nose up against his as you nod your head, “You coulda done that before,” 

Bucky’s hands move from around your waist to your thighs, easily lifting the both of you up from the plush carpet, “M’never lettin’ you go ever again. Gonna hold on real tight, sweet girl.” 

You keep your arms wrapped around his neck and try to pull Bucky closer, burying your face back into the crook of his neck and breathing him in. He moves the two of you over to his bed and flops down onto it, pulling the both of you under the covers and tangling his legs with yours. The two of you stay like that for what feels like ages.

A perfectly content tangle of happiness and relief. 

[sunmoonandeddie]

pandemic overload

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2,136

summary: You need an escape from everything, and Bucky is more than happy to give it to you.

warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF.  Bad words.  Bucky does think a naughty thing or two lol

a/n:  Thank you so much to @marylizabetha for this commission!!!!  I had so much fun with it, and honestly it was nice to get to write about escaping all of this nonsense for a little bit!!!!

He saw it when he came home from grocery shopping.  The quiver of your bottom lip.  He’d only been gone for about two hours—shopping for groceries for a super soldier can take a while, after all—but even so, it had made you anxious.  Everything about the last seven months or so made you anxious.  And he couldn’t blame you.  People were dying and it was just… frustrating how so many people didn’t seem to care.  At all.

Bucky had been the only one to leave the town house you two shared in that entire time, unless you counted the times you’d sit out on the front stoop and work on a Sudoku puzzle.  But that was a decision you had made very early on.  He was a super soldier that couldn’t get sick.  You were just a normal human.

It didn’t mean that you weren’t scared for him every time he walked outside.

Thankfully, it hadn’t taken much to convince you to stay home, even though you had to quit your job.  It wasn’t exactly the most… important thing in the world.  It wasn’t even in your field of interest.  Just a pit stop until you could put your degree to use.

But it looked like that wouldn’t be happening for a little while longer.

Technically, with how much money Bucky made from being a non-active Avenger on top of back pay from being a prisoner of war for seventy years or so and also being on an elite strike force during World War II, you would never have to work a day in your life if you didn’t want.  And, to be perfectly honest, a big part of you was seriously considering it.  It was nice to be able to sit around and do whatever you wanted to do.  You and Bucky helped each other with all the chores and such, but then you had an otherwise empty day to fill.  You’d taken up knitting and learning to play piano and yes, you did join in on that trend of people learning how to make sourdough bread from scratch.  You two had also gotten to up the amount of time you spent trying to make a positive change in the world, and you’d taken Bucky to his first twenty-first century protest.  Not a single cop had dared to fuck with you or anyone else with the former Winter Soldier by your side.

The perks of having a super intimidating boyfriend, right?

It would be completely perfect if it wasn’t for the fact that you had to stay because otherwise you might get sick.

But you were actually considering choosing to just… continue not working once all of it was over.  You and Bucky could do anything you wanted to do.  You could travel the world, maybe eventually adopt a few kids…  The possibilities were endless, especially since your boyfriend had surprised you by paying off all your student loans in one fell swoop.

Yeah, that… that had brought on more than a few tears.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile over at you as he put away the groceries, calling out everything to you.  You were sitting up on the counter, pretty as a picture, with your legs swinging back and forth as you put in everything he’d bought to that fancy app on your phone that took everything you had in your fridge and gave you a list of recipes you could make from it.

Last week the two of you had gotten your favorite recipe so far, grilled mahi mahi tacos with a sweet pineapple salsa that served a bit of a kick at the end.

Fish so nice, they named it twice.

Bucky’s pandemic hobby had become cooking.  A lot of the time, you two just ordered food in, which was a horrible habit.  But you couldn’t help it.  You both were so busy and neither of you really had the energy or patience to cook most of the time.

But spending everyday at home meant that Bucky finally had time to learn how to do something other than boil food, and he was actually pretty good at it.

“Baby doll, let’s go on a date.”

You looked up from your phone in surprise.  “A…  A date?  Bucky Bear…  I hate to break it to you, but…  We can’t exactly go anywhere,” you said with a weak laugh.  As good as it was to be able to sit at home and work on your hobbies, you were often overwhelmed with the thoughts about how so many people were suffering because of how selfish others were.

He put the last bell pepper away in the fridge before moving to stand between your legs, his hands running over your thighs.  “Now that’s not true, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed sweet kisses along your jawline.  “I wanna take you somewhere special, okay?  We haven’t gotten to dress up in a long time…  So how about you get your cute ass in the shower and get yourself all dolled up, yeah?  I wanna treat my girl.”

Ugh.  He always knew exactly what to say to make you melt.

“Okay,” you giggled, nuzzling your nose against his.  But you took your own sweet time getting off the counter, choosing instead to wrap your legs around him and pull him in for an impromptu makeout session.

What can you say?  Your man was hot as fuck and a good ass kisser.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his hands roaming down your sides to your ass.  He gave a playful squeeze before slowly breaking the kiss, letting it linger far longer than what would be considered necessary.  “But you have to go shower and get ready, baby girl.  I gotta jump in one, too.  I wanna be nice and fresh for my girl.  Now go on.”

A purse of your lower lip.  “You don’t wanna join me?”

“Now, that’s not what I said, you little minx,” he said, tickling your sides and sending you into a fit of giggles.  “But if I get in with you, we aren’t gonna make it out for a long, long time.  And then you won’t get your surprise.”

“Fine, fine,” you groaned, pushing against his chest so you could slide off the counter.  “Bossy.”  You shot him a wink as you headed upstairs, and he can’t help but stare at your ass.

God bless the quarantine weight you’d gained.

Granted, he always loved your body—if you like the girl, you’re gonna like her body, after all—but he was still a hot-blooded man with a thing for grabbing you and loving every inch of you.

He quickly put together a basket of food, various meats and cheeses and little things like olives, and set a blanket on top of it before running upstairs to grab a shower in the guest bath.  He knew the perfect place to take you to escape the city and the suffocating threat of the pandemic.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going or not, Sarge?” You asked as you appeared in the doorway.

He looked up from where he sat at the kitchen island, and the breath was knocked straight from his lungs.  Thank god he’d already stowed the basket and blanket away in the trunk, because he would’ve completely forgotten at the sight of you.  “Holy shit, sugar…,” he whispered as he got up.  He moved towards you, strong hands grabbing your hips and pulling you into a kiss.  He knew he had to be careful about grabbing your face, not wanting to mess up the makeup you’d just put on for the first time in months.  But you’d also learned not to wear a lip product that would smear on your first date, so you both had rules about makeup now.

The fabric of your yellow sundress rested against your skin so gently, and he would be ashamed to admit that for just a second, he was jealous of a piece of clothing.  He wanted to be that close to you always, wanted to feel your skin and draw little shapes over your heart.

Maybe he’d strip it off of you the second he got you to the spot, just so he could rest his head in the valley of your breasts and listen to the steady beating of your heart.  You knew that he could hear it even just standing beside you, but you wouldn’t call him out on it.

TLC played on the radio the entire drive, his hand on your thigh except for when he needed to shift gears.  Out of all the decades of music you were working to catch him up on, the nineties were your favorite.

Not that he’d ever disagree.  No.  Not when he got to watch you with one arm out the window, your hand making waves in the wind as you sang at the top of your lungs.

Just being out of the house for less than an hour was doing you so much good.

“Bucky, you aren’t going to kill me, right?” You asked with a laugh as he parked the car in a small lot at the entrance of a trail.  “Because I really figured you would’ve done that by now, you know.”

“Nah, baby,” he said as he popped the trunk, smirking at the surprised look on your face at the sight of the basket.  The trunk closed with a slam as he tossed you the blanket, moving to your side and holding your free hand in his before leading you down the trail.  “If I wanted to murder you, I’d have done it by now.  Besides, you’re too pretty to kill.  I’d miss looking at you everyday.”

“You’re an absolute cheese ball,” you laughed, nudging his hip with yours.  Not that it actually did anything.

Ah, the disadvantages you had when it came to play fighting with your super soldier boyfriend.  Poor you.

The trail was absolutely stunning, full of wildlife and color.  The shade the trees provided was a nice reprieve to the mid-August heat, the sunlight filtering through the leaves to dapple against your cheeks.

It was about a fifteen minute walk to the Wallkill River, and you heard the rush of the water long before you get there.

“We aren’t going swimming right?” You asked, eyeing him skeptically.  “Because I just washed my hair.”

“No,” he said, amusement lacing his tone.  “We’re not swimming.  Just having a late lunch.”  He sets down the basket and takes the blanket from you, laying it out on the small clearing on the bank.  He took his time setting up the charcuterie board, the bottle of wine, and the two pillows that he stuffed in the basket for you two to rest against.  “There.  Now it’s perfect,” he said as he held his hand out to you to help you sit down on the blanket.  “Worthy of my princess.”

A familiar roll of your eyes as he pressed sweet kisses to your cheeks, just like he did anytime he doted on you.  He only ever called you princess when he got all lovey dovey like this.

Not that you’d ever complain.

“So what’s all this for?” You asked.  Unable to stop your fit of giggles, you teetered to the side as the force of his cheek kisses grew and he made more and more obnoxious noises with it, his metal hand hooked around your waist.  “Bucky Bear…”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, leaving one last, noisy kiss to your cheek before sitting up straight.  He didn’t answer you right away, choosing instead to grab the wine and pop it open, pouring you each a glass.  He was always the designated driver, since alcohol didn’t affect him.  He was silent until you had your glass in hand, and he raised his in a toast.  “I want to celebrate us, and more specifically, you.  The past seven or so months haven’t been easy, but you’ve been a champ through it all.  And also, I think we’ve done pretty damn well on living together and being around each other almost 24/7, considering that we only moved in together in November,” he said.  His startling blue eyes were so soft as he stared at you.  “I just love you so much, and I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, my god,” you said, your eyes glassy as you shook your head.  “Bucky, you can’t say things like that when I just did my makeup!  You’re going to make me cry!”  But you didn’t mind the tears as you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, your glasses clinking together.  “I love you, too.  And there’s no one else I’d rather go through this with.”

“Together,” he said, his nose nudging against yours.

“Together,” you agreed.

[retroknightx]

hypmic headcanons

since nobody on my instagram appreciates me, i’m going to put them here, and it’ll be like a master post i can add onto that way anyway (which is convenient for me, because i keep adding on… yeah, it’s bad lmao. my notes document can only take so much) all of it will be under the line so you guys don’t just have a big ass post clogging your feed! to whoever my 4 followers are

starting with fling posse…

---

Ramuda Amemura

He’s trans.

He has a superiority complex to hide his inferiority complex.

He also likely has a little bot of a god complex… Just a tiny bit… Not to the point it’d endanger his life, but to the point he can never admit he’s wrong (I suppose this can also count as the superiority complex).

He also has a little bit of a schoolboy crush on Dice… that has lasted far longer than he’d ever like to admit – not that he’d ever admit it in the first place – and he gets jealous over Dice.

He started his whole thing with girls, whatever it is, as a power trip, which also explains why he likes to cause so much chaos.

Since he used to smoke, he started candy as a way to stop smoking and it slowly replaced his smoking habit (as I have yet to see him smoke otherwise, but keep in mind I’m not far into the manga and mostly I’m going off the ARB story).

---

Gentaro Yumeno

All writers are perfectionists (I’d know as one).

He’s probably very particular about the details and doesn’t like doing things without a plan.

He’s the lyric write for Fling Posse’s raps and does not enjoy making up lyrics on the spot; however he can if he must – This is also why he carries the book everywhere.

I honest to god don’t feel like he’s of this world and whatever his actual form is (irony in his rap name?), it scared Ramuda enough to create Fling Posse, so here they are.

---

now for the dice ones… it’s gonna be long!

---

Dice Arisugawa

He is, unfortunately, very oblivious to romantic approaches – especially from close friends such as his division members, for he’s been with them for so long that he can never imagine them falling in love with him.

He has abandonment issues/a fear of abandonment because his mother left him.

Speaking of his mother, Dice likely knows how to do “noble” things because he was raised by a politician; i.e. how to play piano and stuff like that.

Adding on top of that, I feel like Dice has an accumulation of many different skills from being all over the place – He learned how to do card tricks by watching others, and he probably learned bird calls from spending time with Rio.

He undoubtedly has ADHD (as a person with ADHD myself, you cannot tell me I am wrong)!

He’s well aware that’s he a leech, but he can’t stop himself because the addiction is stronger and he feels terrible about it; it’s why he often begs instead of anything else that would fit his character more.

He’s a very talkative person and often rambles to get his thoughts organized.

He doesn’t like being put into awkward situations or forced into silence because he is used the buzz of a casino and a busy city.

Relating to the ADHD canon, Dice puts his life on line not only for the thrill of it, but to keep his mind off of thoughts, and it’s also why he gambles; so he can focus on one thing.

He is numb to change because he’s a gambler.

He is very good at adapting to a new environment.

He doesn’t like being looked down up and that’s why he started gambling; to prove that he’s worth something.

He uses humor to cope if he can’t get his mind off of things with the thrill of gambling.

---

Extras (Fling Posse all together)

Dice has weird limbs, so clothing fits him weird, and Ramuda started making clothes for them because of that.

Ramuda chased after Dice after he stole his signature parka and the Fling Posse star was embroidered on later by Ramuda after the formation of Fling Posse.

Ramuda likely pulls whatever strings he has access to to make life easier for his division members (not that it stops them from getting into trouble, that is).

Gentaro spends a lot of time away when writing and likely forgets he’s even alive during those periods, so his division members make sure he’s still taking care of himself when he gets like that.

They all piss each other off, but in a platonic love kind of way.

---

moving onto matenrou! my favorite division <3

---

Jakurai Jingui

Oh, my poor man’s so tired. He just needs a long break and a spa day; speaking of this, he likely doesn’t ask for help often – it’s the messiah complex he undoubtedly has.

His hair is too long for him to be taking care of it himself, and it definitely looks in fantastic condition, so he definitely takes good care of it – I just don’t think he takes care of it himself; I think he enlists the help of his division members (as I headcanon that Matenrou is in a poly relationship).

Jakurai’s matureness can sometimes get in the way of other things, such as emotional moments, and he can come off as cold or distant when he doesn’t mean to come off that way.

Unlike the other divisions, Jakurai wanted to really separate from his past, and that’s why he named his division Matenrou instead of reusing something from the past. He also probably doesn’t like talking about the past.

His hair is naturally silver, but the lighter shades that are nearly white underneath was caused by stress.

He gets cold quickly, which is why he always keeps the lab coat on, and it’s also why he wears a turtleneck.

Jakurai does live in the same apartment as Doppo and Hifumi, but he’s always so busy that he often can’t get there, so he ends up sleeping at the hospital; he also has a separate apartment of his own that’s closer to the hospital if he has free time, but he’s not off work/off work but still on call.

---

Doppo Kannonzaka

Man, the first thing I thought when I saw him was that he has a choking kink. Enough said. He also likely has a praise kink.

If he didn’t have social anxiety and wasn’t so busy, he’d also probably be going over to Rio’s camp a lot. I think it’s because he’s so overworked that he doesn’t care about what’s in the food; as long as he gets it.

He’s probably passed out from exhaustion more than once and just got used to it.

Despite all his problems, he definitely wants to be known and he wants his name out there; he wants to be just like the other two and he definitely looks up to them already, but he aspires to be them.

He is so thankful for his divison members and he’s glad that they accepted him.

---

Hifumi Izanami

Hifumi is a classic case of “fake it till you make it”; I really don’t know how he became one of the most popular hosts in Shinjuku, but it’s definitely about the fake confidence and the jacket is a comfort object for him that allows him to have that confidence.

He cooks all the time for his division members and he uses the catches from fish all the time, too. He even brings the lunches to their works for them.

---

Extras

Since Hifumi’s always out so late, the others make sure he has everything he needs for whenever he wakes up and sometimes they wait for him.

They’re all in a poly relationship and I refuse to believe anything else; I mean, have you seen those “my room” dialouge in ARB? Fruity.

They probably all love to cuddle whenever they get the chance because they can’t do it often.

They definitely set up one day of the month for all of them to just be together.

---

buster bros time!

---

Ichiro Yamada

This may just be the Ichiro simp in me, but I think he has a very nice tummy that’d be nice to lay on; like a soft one if that makes any sense to anybody other than me.

He’s a very friendly person and if you’re close friends with him, he’s definitely loyal; he’d be willing to drop anything to help you kind of loyal, like he is to his brothers – all that, except the willing to die part.

I think he gets flustered easily and doesn’t know how to respond to compliments. That’s also probably the Ichiro simp in me.

Although he has to stop his brothers from ripping out each other’s throats all the time, he’s very proud of them and of their achievements, no matter what they are. He’s willing to praise them even for the tiniest things to make up for his absence in their lives.

He probably has a terrible sleeping schedule, but he could probably operate on pretty much anything. Two hours of sleep? That’s not an issue for him; he’s used to it.

He’s likely a cheapskate when it comes to himself, but when it comes to his brothers, he spares no expense if he can.

---

Saburo Yamada

He has a superiority complex. I mean, just look at how he acts with Jiro – that’s enough proof right there.

He got into hacking and all of that computer stuff because it was interesting to him; he’s probably pursuing a career in it, considering just how good he is at it. I feel like he’d make a good white hat hacker that tests your website security, like Alma in Va-11 Hall-A.

Call him a library, because he holds grudges for years.

I think he just likes picking arguments because he think it’s funny and there’s nothing better to do when you’re stuck with your brothers (as somebody with a sibling myself, I can attest to that).

---

Jiro Yamada

Anger issues. Yep, that’s it. That’s the headcanon.

Man probably goes dumpster diving to see what kind of treasures he can find; his room is probably full of that kind of junk.

He probably has greasy hair. It doesn’t matter how much he cleans it, it’s just greasy (as somebody with the same issue, go clean your pillows Jiro).

---

Extras

Ichiro has to hold Jiro back from just punching Saburo all the time.

God, somebody save Ichiro from his siblings; with how much they bicker, he probably has taken so much ibuprofen to stop headaches in his life that he should be considered dead from an overdose.

Despite being assholes to each other, they all help each other out – Saburo helps Jiro with his work, Jiro helps Saburo with whatever he can’t do, and Ichiro takes care of the rest. It’s the only thing keeping their bond together.

---

mad trigger crew, my beloved.

---

Rio Mason Busujima

Rio’s very stoic and that often doesn’t break, so it’s very rare to see a smile on his face. He has different smiles for different things too – there’s the business one; one so he doesn’t look as intimidating, and the actual genuine smile that’s very rare to see, but it happens when somebody appreciates his food.

Rio’s not good at understanding emotions and it takes him awhile to process emotions; he goes quiet in these moments and it can be confusing for those who don’t know him, but once he’s thought everything out, he’s very smart about responding.

He’ll never fully adjust to a life outside of the navy and military.

Opposite to Dice, he finds the buzz of a city to be too distracting for his thoughts and he enjoys his solitude, but he doesn’t mind company at all.

Due to how his unit was broken up, he refuses to abide by H law and keeps his gun on him. Even Rio can be spiteful. However, he mostly uses it for hunting, which is why he’s so far out in the forest.

He definitely has a lot of scars and that’s why he often wears his fatigues; he doesn’t wana come off as off-putting. His cards without the jacket did him so dirty. Of course he’d have scars from fighting in World War 3.

He can come up with strategies on the spot and is a very quick-thinker when it comes to combat.

Despite how ruthless he is when it comes to rap battles and being an ex-navy, he’s actually a very gentle soul.

I feel like he’s asexual, but homoromantic.

---

Samatoki Aohitsugi

He only uses the bad guy persona as a way to be left alone, but he’s actually a very kind person.

Despite being a yakuza, he actually abides to the H law and it’s probably only because of Nemu (however, this is only based off of the anime, so I can’t say for certain, but I haven’t seen anything in the manga disproving otherwise yet).

I just feel like he eats a lot throughout the day. I can’t explain this one, but he has the vibes.

He also knows how to cook quite well himself, and he does it for his division members sometimes.

---

Jyuto Iruma

He’s very cocky because he knows he can get away with things; I mean, he’s the authorties, why wouldn’t he get cocky about what he can do? However, it’s somewhat annoying to Samatoki.

If he wasn’t a gay bastard, Samtoki and Rio probably would’ve been arrested long ago. Thankfully for them, he is a gay bastard.

He likes looking good no matter what; it helps his confidence, so he dresses up to go out anywhere.

His glasses are probably just reading glasses.

He likes spending money on expensive things.

---

Extras

Samatoki and Jyuto are in a relationship. They’re so fruity that I’m sure I don’t have to explain this one.

Samatoki doesn’t approve of Rio dating Dice at all and it’s only because of Jyuto that Dice is still alive.

Rio is pretty much their marriage counselor; he has to constantly deal with them bickering, so of course he is. He’s pretty much the adopted child to save their marriage.

---

Ships

Riodice

Samajyu

Poly Matenrou

---

i will likely make a separate post for the ship headcanons because this will be much longer, but i think this covers all of them anyway, so here you go. enjoy.

[feelingisshit]

Venti x Reader - Windrise Part 2

WARNINGS - Reader is unaware of Venti being Barbatos, sexual glance(?), alcohol mentions, small mention of violence(venti being protective), and I'm still new to writing for genshin so pls be kind

You go home that night and before you lay down to sleep you decide to pray to Barbatos. "Lord Barbatos, thank you for protecting me and my friends on all of our journeys. Please if you would be so kind as to grant me the courage to finally confess my feelings to Venti. I have had feelings for him for a while and I hope to confess after the end of festivities tomorrow. Thank you again Lord Barbatos for everything you've done for me."

Venti listens in to the prayers he gets most nights before he rests but tonight he was expecting yours, especially since you had confessed to having feelings for someone to him earlier that day. He just never imagined you would've been talking about him. You two may always be found with the other but he never would've thought that he would catch your affections this way. Or that you'd be confident enough to ask him if the god of freedom would approve of you being a couple. The more Venti thought about it the redder his cheeks got and at some point, he decided to drink himself to sleep so he would at least get some semblance of rest before the day ahead of him.

The next day at the festival, no matter what he seemed to do, all Venti could seem to do was remember the way you had said his name. Both Barbatos and Venti, you had said both with adoration and respect laced in your prayer like somehow you might know that they were the same person. He knew you didn't but it made him blush to think that you did and prayed to him about your feelings anyway.

And no matter how much time Venti tried to spend with you that day people just seemed to want to pull you away for something "more important". First, Jean needed you to help her carry some boxes to Angel's Share for Diluc. Venti did accompany you two but didn't get a chance to get a word in since you and Jean were busy catching up. You, discussing your travels and her, what her duties had her up to lately. Then, Klee had grabbed your hand and whisked you away to go fish blasting just outside Mondstadt in Cider Lake. Venti followed along then too. Though, with how loud Klee's bombs were and how loud the two of you were laughing together he could never seem to find a good time to try and ask you for time alone.

The third and final time Venti let you get pulled off to help someone was when Huffman had, a little too kindly, asked you to slay some slimes outside the walls of Mondstadt. You, of course, agreed because of how kind and helpful you were to the people of Mond. As you and Venti walked off to get rid of the offending slimes Venti caught Huffman looking back and at your butt. Needless to say, Huffman did not have an easy time going up the stairs just a second later.

It was the end of the festival when you finally finished accepting to help everyone. You let them clean up on their own as you and Venti went to the large Barbatos statue in front of the cathedral. Little did Venti know you had bought a bottle of Venti's favorite wine and a bouquet of celias while helping out around the city.

When you both climb up the statue to sit in the palms all he expected was for you to link arms and lean on him as you always have when you sit in the hands of your beloved archon. He tenses and his face goes pink when instead you grab his hand after taking off your bag and setting it next to you. "So, Venti!" You start and begin to reach in your bag rummaging around with your free hand while running your thumb across the back of his hand with your other one. "I got you some stuff while we were helping Jean, Diluc, and Huffman. I thought it'd be a nice addition to my apology for getting dragged every which way today!" You laugh heartily and he chuckles back, a little nervous for what was to come.

"Ah, you didn't have to do that my muse! Besides, at least I got to spend time with you either way so don't worry too much about it." Venti brushes off how hurt he actually was about getting dragged around but his face actually lights up when you pull out the bottle of wine you had picked for him while you were at Angel's Share earlier. "Ah, well! Actually, this is a better apology than words could ever express!" He laughs, forgetting briefly that you were going to confess to him tonight.

"Also, I got something else too." You say, pulling your hand out of his hesitantly and motioning to give you a second. After a moment of watching you cautiously, your hands come out of your bag with a near-perfect condition huge bouquet of celias. His face burns and his mouth opens but nothing comes out except soft breaths.

"I, uhm, I really like you Venti… romantically… and I decided that I can't keep it a secret from you anymore. If you don't feel the same I understand and we can still be best friends no matter what, it's not a problem." Your face also burns with his as you look each other in the eyes for what felt like an eternity. Finally after what actually was just over a minute of silence, Venti leans towards you making you drop the celias onto your lap. He looks into your eyes then to your lips then back to your eyes before giving you a short and sweet peck on the lips.

A/N - So... I love the concept of yandere venti so I wrote a second version with yandere venti instead. if you wanna check it out the link is H E R E

[limenysnocket]

Japanese Denim

Summary: You're free to travel with Taika again. Where to go? Think about it. For the past year, Taika has been bingeing anime non-stop, and his closet is full of the Japanese culture. What better place... Japan.

Pairing: Taika Waititi x Reader

Warnings: Baecation- fluff, swearing.

Words: 2.1k

A/N: This is for @fineanddandy 's lovely little challenge, and I've always wanted to go to Okinawa so this is an opportunity to do some research for fun and for my amusement.

@olyvoyl @honorarytenenbaum @dandywaititi @mrtommyshelby @whatwememeintheshadows​

•○●•○●•○●•

"Thank you! And enjoy your stay at the Henn na Hotel!"

"How many times a day do you get served by a fucking dinosaur? Are you kidding me?" Taika was bouncing all the way to your room. His hand gestures only got wider by the second. "And this place is desolate. I'm starting to think the robots killed everyone for fuel."

"This isn't a Y2K situation, dumbass. It's like... the aftermath of that. And if robots actually needed to travel places," you shrugged, rolling your suitcase away from divots in the carpet.

This is where you chose to stay in Nagasaki. They called it the Henn na Hotel, where everything (absolutely everything) was ran by robots. No living staff, except for the maintenance crew. Nothing. They even gave you a little robot companion in your room that was like a moving Alexa with glowing eyes and an eerie, childish voice. It would even sing nursery rhymes if you asked it politely. But as Taika had exclaimed about when he was first booking his stay at the hotel, you had the choice to check in with a robotic raptor at the front desk. Of course, there were perfectly normal human robots, but those didn’t excite him as much.

And what could make this better? It was in the middle of a makeshift Dutch theme park called Huis Ten Bosch with nightly live performances and a walk of lights that would make you think you're on some sort of drug trip.

A lot of this was weird to you. Immediately, as soon as you got off the plane, both you and Taika had to take a safety course with a few other men and women. From earthquakes, to fires, to emergency evacuations. You were thinking your jet lag was going to be the worst part of your trip. You didn't get to go to sleep until you reached your hotel room. Which was hours later.

You woke back up at seven o'clock at night with Taika passed out right beside you. Dusk was just beginning to creep along the horizon. You walked to your window and pulled open the curtains. The sight amazed you. You gathered yourself up, throwing on some clothes, then tossing a pair at your sleeping boyfriend.

Taika woke up, completely disgruntled and still very sleepy. "Babe, what the fuck," he murmured, rubbing his eyes with a palm and clearly not ready to get up yet.

“Just shut up and get your clothes on. We’re going to have fun,” you whispered through the thin air of your hotel room. Begrudgingly, he got up and started to get dressed. Just a pair of shorts, his chucks, and a plain t-shirt. Nothing too eccentric since you did not want to draw in attention. Once he was ready, you were dragging him downstairs. Outside of your building, there was a slew of people walking around. Not too much to suffocate, but enough to know that humanity was thriving outside of your little robot-ran hotel room.

Passed all the people, Taika saw what excited you. It was dark now, and the throngs of lights coating each building you saw, were now on. The virtual reality merry-go-round was up and running, and live performances went on the little stage. People were gathered around every attraction, but Taika went to the performance first.

It was all bright dancing and wild colors. People were in front of the stage, doing the dances too with some kind of glee on their faces. It really was bizarre, since you and Taika seemed to be the only ones without eye masks on.

Taika tried his best to join in with the dancing, but really couldn’t catch on. Unless it was Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller,” or something he made up on the spot, the man cannot dance in sync. But, it was still fun to watch him try, so, you kept encouraging him, even though he was a mess. It was payback for all the times he messed with you. Like stealing your favorite hoodie.

He was ready for more of the tour when he was finished, and what you figured might be your night of taking him around, turned into his. You didn’t mind. He was taking you to the places you wanted to go anyway. Through the forest of lights, down the glowing river, and you enjoyed the night water shows that were also lit up with bright techno colors. As a treat... you even let him have a look at the One Piece ship they have floating in the harbor.

Finishing up your night, you decided to take a stroll on Umbrella street. They were lit up in a lovely blue and pink color. All the stores that lounged on the sides were closing up, and there weren’t many people left lingering around the lights. Eventually, you and Taika were the only ones left. Your arm was wrapped around Taika’s, and all you could stare at was the lights. He had one hand in his pocket, and he let you lean most of your weight on him. It had only been a couple of hours since you started to take a look around, but you were tired again. The jet lag still hadn’t completely wore off, you supposed, and it showed.

“Come on,” Taika murmured into your ear, “Let’s get back to our room.”

It was another fifteen minutes before the park was totally shut down and was no longer accepting guests. You both drowsily made your way up to your hotel room, where your tiny robot friend was waiting for you, asking what time you were going to wake up. It was annoying, but the exhaustion made it easy to ignore. You got back into your pajamas, crawled into bed with Taika, and went to sleep.

The next morning, you were up bright ad early. The little robot friend on your desk still asked what time you were going to wake up. It would take care of itself, hopefully. The park was getting ready to open, by the time you left with Taika on your arm. From Nagasaki’s airport, you took a small plane over to Naha, Okinawa, where you would spend the rest of your day, walking about in your swimsuit, until the sun set.

White sand, beautiful beaches, exquisite sushi, and odd looking statues that you had to ask the locals about. From shrines, to snakes, to boardwalks, it was all here, and you were going to take in all of it. 

Instead of staying in a lavish resort for the day, you and Taika just walked, took the monorail, or took a bike cab everywhere. Most of the time you were there, however, you spent on the beach. The crystalline waters called to you from a distance, and it just looked so blue! You couldn’t help yourself.

Taika went searching for shellfish, but he liked to spend time with you in the water. It was about twenty or so minutes in when he splashed a large amount of water at you. You spluttered, since most of it landed in your face. You wiped your eyes and caught him, holding his hands behind his back and carelessly looking around as if he had done nothing wrong. You didn’t buy his act, obviously, and you splashed back at him. To him, you had just declared war, and things were going to get serious.

Waves and waves of water were sent flying through the air, and both of you were drenched in battle. With how much you were moving, you were sure you scared all the fish away from the water.

At the very end, neither of you were sure who won, but you were both happy and tired. You took the opportunity to rest on the beach, laying on your stomach on a towel and enjoying the warm sunlight while it lasted. Taika sat beside you once he was satisfied with his search for shells. You took your time to go through some of his little collection and ended up being thoroughly impressed with his find. You found a few conch shells, but your favorite by far had to be the spider conch that he found. It was small, and could fit in the palm of your hand, but you still enjoyed the shape and color. He let you keep it.

After a long day, you decided to stop in a restaurant to grab something to eat. It was a lovely mom and pop shop that was based on soba noodles and sea food. There was floor seating, or there were tables and chairs. Taika picked fast and it was right to the floor seating. Tatami matts and plush cushions provided a much cozier atmosphere than first suggested. When the time to order food came around, you both had a lot to cover. Playing at the beach worked up an appetite. The people working were more than happy to oblige to your needs and would feed you the best food anyone could make.

With your food came traditional Sake and two tiny teacups of herbal teas. With a table covered in food, and alcohol thrown into the mix, the night would last a very long time. Yet, you still had a plane to catch by the end of it. You stayed as long as possible, ate as much as you could stomach, and drank a lot more Sake than you would like to admit, but hey, you still had an amazing time. Not to mention how much attention Taika was getting from passers by. He could get quite loud, and those who could understand or speak English were drawn to his boisterous aura.

You left the restaurant, fat and happy, as well as Taika. After gathering up your shoes and changing out of your wet clothes, you took a plane to Osaka, then took the train the rest of the way to the small town of Karuizawa. Taika had booked a pension for the night, and it would be capping off your small vacation with him in Japan.

The pension was a small, red roofed building, just outside of the shopping district. Luckily, the lights were still on by the time you made it in. The buzz of the Sake still had quite the grip on you, so you let Taika do most of the talking. It took a minute, since the people running the place had to send out for someone who spoke English, but the waiting wasn’t all that bad. You got the chance to take a look at the beautiful stone garden outside of the window.

Again, the place you were staying wasn’t fancy or as nice as the robotic one you stayed in, but it was still comforting. They gave you a king-sized bed in a big bedroom with circular windows, a living room, large bathroom, and a mini kitchen. The remnants of the complimentary dinner they had served a few hours before you arrived still wafted through the air.

After long showers and setting out clothes for tomorrow (Taika insisted he wear his denim kimono), you both sat in the small living room for some time, trying to make sense of a random game show that played on the television. Taika had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his body still pleasantly warm from his shower and the rose petal soap he used tickled your sense of smell. His hair was still dripping with water, and little beads of it would fall onto his broad shoulders. Your hands were fiddling with the spider shell he had given you earlier, and you just looked on at the television ahead, struggling to stay awake.

“Doing okay?” Taika muttered to you, sounding quite tired himself. You gave him a low hum in response and tucked your nose into his shirt. You wrapped your arms around him, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Did you have a good time?” He always liked to reassure himself with you, to make sure you were always happy and satisfied with the things he picked out. You gave him another hum, but in a more approving tone than last time. He blew a laugh through his nose and leaned his head back, resting it on the couch and staring at the ceiling for a time.

“Good...” he said again softly, “I’m glad you did...”

[myfeetkeepdancing]

Charmed | Peter Parker x Male!Reader

Just to clarify, this is written with Peter being 18+ 

Requested by: @headmastermephistopheles 

Request: Could I request a peter parker x a playerish stark male reader? where the reader used to have a lot of guys and girls at his feet but when he moves to his fathers place , his bold honesty and charming charisma makes peter fall hard for him like super hard. Smut if possible ! I adore peter parker and you're amazing at writing about him so thank you for all the stories!

Words: 4468

Warning: Smut

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

"Captain." Extending a hand towards Steve. "Good seeing you again."

"Likewise, (Y/N)." Receiving a firm handshake in return. "You do know, you can call me Steve? Right?" Giving you a kind smile.

"I do. But I respect your rank." Giving him a salute. "And your service."

"You really do have the charm of your father." Patting you on the shoulder.

"Don't let him hear that. But thanks, Captain."

You hear him chuckle a little. "Enjoy your stay here." As he holds the door open for you. "If there's anything I can do, please do come by."

"I'll find my way. Thank you." Walking down the hall, you pass all sorts of the nametags of Avengers. The doors were quite far apart from each other. So the rooms had to be huge, you wonder. You can't help but chuckle to yourself as you walk these halls. Being Tony's son does mean having certain perks. You just seem so terribly out of place. Seeing you're far from an Avenger. No superpowers. Or special abilities. No suit of armor.

Although you've heard some things about a certain security and safety protocol. Making the chance very likely that there was a suit of armor with your name on it. But you wouldn’t jump into one out of free will. Absolutely not.

After finishing your studies. Going abroad, traveling the world, you naturally rolled into working for Stark Industries while exploring the many wonders of the world. You eventually end up here. In the Avengers tower.

A welcoming 'committee' awaited your arrival. With most of the Avengers present, you catch up with them. You've known them for almost your entire life. Growing up with Tony meant having the Avengers in the background. They were all kind and friendly to you. And you experienced the highs and lows as well. Although from the sideline. You looked up to them. To their work. Their loyalty and service to the world. An incredible burden.

With a bag slung over your shoulder, you set out for your room. Tony had everything arranged ahead. Luggage moved in. Redesigned the interior. Knowing him, he probably overdid himself again. Going complete overboard with everything. But finding the room was another thing. It's been years since you've been here. Even the tower itself had an extensive rebuild. Feeling your phone buzzing, on the verge of picking up. Your eyes spot someone at the elevator. Rocking back and forth on the heels of his foot. Eyes plastered to his phone.

"Spiderboy!" You jokingly call him, laying your hand on his shoulder.

"Wha-! Wow." He jump scares almost a feet away from you. "H-Hey!" Cracking a smile on his face as he realizes who you were. "(Y/N)"

"I'm sorry." You smiled, reaching him a hand. "You must be Peter."  

"Parker… P-Peter Parker." Shaking your hand, looking at you with big eyes. "Nice meeting you."

"Likewise, Peter." Silencing your buzzing phone. "I'm (Y/N), but you already knew that." You smile. "I've heard a lot about you, Peter. Tony is ecstatic about you."

"Are you k-…? Really?!"

"Yeah, Tony’s quick with words, but slow with feelings and such. But he honestly adores you. You have to see through his jokes and sarcasm."

Peter only nods, clamping his laptop under his other arm. Readjusting the bag on his shoulder. Listening carefully to every word you say.

"Sarcasm and wittiness isn't always the right approach, you know." Both of your attention gets drawn to the lift doors closing. "Sorry, buddy, but you just missed your ride."

"It's fine. Don't worry." He smiled. "Bus won't be here in 32 minutes."

"So, do you live in the tower as well?" Pressing the elevator button for Peter. As he's too occupied listening to you.

"N-No, I… eh live with my aunt downtown."

"How nice." Sounding a bit too bitter to your liking. You just wish he lived here. Being able to spend some time with someone your age, instead of all the 'older' Avengers. "You're heading there right now?"

He nods quickly. "You?"

"Well, I'll be fair to you." Leaning into him, as if you're going to reveal a big secret. "I was on my way to my room. But I can't find it." Scratching the back of your head.

"I know where it is." He lively springs into action.

"Wonderful, could you show me?"

"This way." He beamed, proudly walking in front of you. Occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

"So… Anything big happening here at the weekends?"

"Not much. From time to time, the Avengers share a drink on the top floor. But things are calm these days." He stops at a door with your name on it. You caught yourself to not paying any attention to the route Peter took. Not where it was located opposite to the previously seen rooms.

"Thank you, Peter." Unlocking the room. Hanging your coat beside the door. Peter looking on, staring into the room. Large pane windows, pretty much the same as Tony's own room. Luxuries and grand.

"Oh, well then. I better be going." Checking the time on his phone. "See you around."

"Peter." You call out to him, "What will you be doing this weekend?"  Taking your place against the doorpost. Sheathing your hands in your pockets.

"M-Me?" He stutters, completely caught off guard by your question. You notice he's avoiding your eye contact the whole time. A blush coloring his cheeks. Staring down the hallway. "I… ehm."

"Attending any parties?"

"No-No-No, I'm not much of a party going type. Do you want to go to a party?"

"I prefer not to." You confess. "I was hoping to do something with you."

"Okay, okay." His smile growing wider and wider. "What are you thinking of?"

"I dunno. What do you usually do on the weekend?" You return the question. From this distance, you could almost hear his brain. "Except for saving the city as Spiderman, of course." Shooting him a playful wink.

Peter's face shoots bright red. With his hand, he rubs his cheeks and mouth, trying to hide his glowing red face.

"Here." Handing him your business card. "Think about it. If you don't want-..."

"Of course, I want to. But, I...ehm am running late." Glancing at his wrist while he definitely wore no watch. Starting to walk off.

"You know where to find me." You sniffle and wave him goodbye.

"Bye, mister Sta-... (Y/N)! Storming around the corner. Noticing his happy skip jump as he races off towards the elevator. You can't help but smile at his cuteness. It was only a few minutes ago he guided you to your room. His bus wasn't due to arrive in more than 25 minutes, you guess. You let him have his moment. He looked so nervous. You have to admit, you experience a bit of nerve and flutters in your stomach as well.

You spend the rest of the evening in the lounge area with a couple of Avengers. Sharing a few beers, hearing their stories, and play some games. Your phone was never quiet, but tonight you had to check every single notification. Peter still prominently present in the back of your mind. Eagerly awaiting his message.

Your heart skipped a beat, seeing his name pop up on your screen. The fact you had Peter's number already in your phone, gave away the illusion you had no interest in him. You heard the stories about Peter. You had seen the pictures. You didn’t fool yourself. And Tony didn’t lock any of his computers around the house either, so you fished Peter’s number out of there with ease. His profile picture enough to give you the jitters.

Peter was way more talkative via messenger. The conversation lasting long into the evening. Chatting about anything, really. Of course, a Spiderman patrol selfie to top it off. In the end, you set the date. Not like a date. With romance and all that. None of it. At least that’s what you keep telling yourself. Tomorrow he’s coming over, and together you've decided to call it a movie night. That's what he usually does on Saturday’s he said. So that’s what it was. Not at his aunt’s house. Not in the lounge. In your room. And for the first, in a long time, you’re feeling actual nervous.

The next day, just around the clock of six in the evening, your watch signals you that Peter had entered the building. All those handy tech bits came off good use. Apparently, you could set a notification as soon as a biometric scan noticed a specific person entering the building. And yes, Tony had given you a witty remark for only checking Peter’s box. But who’s to blame. He designed the system in the first place. For that remark, he didn’t have an answer at the ready.

“You look nice.” Peter murmured, adjusting the bag over his shoulder. Scrapping his voice a little.

“Thanks.” You give him a kind smile. “You too. Classy.” You compliment him. “Come in, make yourself at home.” Peter again takes in the room after a few steps in, looking in awe at the view and luxuries interior. Modern and spacious. But also a tad bit too large for a person your age.

"Dressed for something special?" He has a slight stutter to his voice. "A party?"

"It's pretty much the same as yesterday, I believe." Checking your clothing, as if there's something off. “But to answer your question. No. No parties. I don’t like them that much.”

“But you’ve partied almost everywhere across the world. If I can believe the pictures…”

“You right. But the thing is, you’re invited by influential people because of your name. You're more of a statement. Doesn't make it as entertaining as it looks."

"Why don't you decline them? Be honest about it. They get pretty wild, I've heard." His face coloring red at the thought.

"Sometimes, there's more at stake than what I want at the moment." You sigh, raking your fingers through your hair. "Oh well. I've ordered pizza in." Trying to shift the attention of the conversation. Getting a thumbs up from him as he connects his laptop. “Beer?”

"Yes, please." He kindly nods, looking up from his laptop.

"Peter, you don't have to say please for everything." Patting him on his shoulder. Seating yourself beside him on the couch. "Cheers, buddy." Ringing your bottle against his.

You see a surprising look, turn into a broad smile. "C-Cheers."

The couch was surprisingly large, especially for the two of you. How you wished you could crawl against him. Your thoughts often drift away from the movie you were watching. You and Peter falling in conversations about anything. Absolutely anything. He was smart, really smart. Had an interest in loads of things. Shared a lot of interests with you.

His body language changed visibly during the course kf the evening. As soon as his shoes came off, making himself really comfortable on the couch, you knew he felt at home. Making remarks, and funny jokes about anything and anyone. You’re drawn to each other. There was no other way to describe it. Your moments of eye contact were uneasy at the beginning. Especially for him. But that changed the later the evening progressed. Not one moment of silence dropped into the conversation. Peter told his stories. His experiences with becoming a member of the Avengers. Tales about Tony. But was interested in your stories, worries, and concerns. Peter was a damn good listener. You had to excuse yourself to Peter for a moment and step into the room nearby. For most of the evening, you've been pressing calls away. But not this one. In all, it takes not more than ten minutes before returning.

“Sorry, European client.” You excuse yourself. “Time zones and all that.” Seating yourself beside him again. Laying your arm to rest on the back of the couch. All comfortable and relaxed.

“I couldn’t understand a single word you were saying.” He giggles. "But it sounded kinda funny."

“It's the Dutch language. It's strange in their own unique ways. I'll teach you the basics sometime. Could come in handy someday."

“Awesome. You have an idea how long will you be staying?”

"Yeah, well the thing is, I haven't talked about it with Tony." You confess. "I've made quite a few international contacts by now. And there's still a lot to gain there. For a bit, it depends on what Tony has in mind."

“You don’t have a say in that?”

“You know how persuasive he is. Before you know it I’m back across the ocean.”

"Anyway." Rising to your feet. "In for another?" You intended to reach for his empty bottle. But are stopped by him. A firm grasp holds your wrist in place. You look at him in surprise. But you don't meet eye to eye. His head hanging downcast.

"Don't…" He muttered. "D-Don't go…" His hand feeling clammy and warm on your skin. You notice a slight tremble to his grip. His breathing heavy.

"It's… just the freezer." You try to lighten the mood. "But-..."

"No, it's n-not-…" He jumps up to his feet. “N-Not that…” Visibly swallowing the lump in his throat. "Please don't go." Taking a step closer, closing the distance between the two of you. Sad looking puppy eyes meet yours.

"P-Peter…" You stutter, followed by a shuddering breath. "Are you…" Your head is fuzzy, spinning, overwhelmed by your feelings.

Peter just nods with those big puppies eyes staring into your soul. Drawing you in closer. You turn into him, closing the distance. Peter was just a little bit shorter than you. And in slow motion, you close in on his lips. You bring your hand up to cup his cheek. Peter leaning, his hand reaching for the back of your neck. Lips meeting in the middle. It's soft. It's slow. It's sweet. It’s everything you wanted. It's breathtaking. Your bodies finding each other. Pressed against one another.

"P-Peter...?" “Y-You… ehm….” Red flooding your cheeks. You both stare at each other, hesitant on the next move. “Wow... A… S-Stark isn't quickly rendered speechless... B-But, this…." You nod. "T-this does…it”

"I want you to stay (Y/N). Really… R-Really want you to." His hands reaching for the first buttons of your blouse.

You cup both his cheeks and kiss him again. More violent than before. Resting your foreheads for a moment against each other. "Peter…?" You stammer. “You… really wanna do this?

He pushes you onto the couch, a force you couldn't possibly stop. Seating himself on your lap. With a simple nod, he takes off his blouse. Revealing his masculine body. Leaving you gazing at the irresistible shape of his body. Feeling yourself growing. You snap out of it the moment you see him open his belt, tugging to open his pants. Revealing his underwear, stretched by his length. Your hands slowly caress down the side of his figure. Captivated by his physique.

His lips smack onto yours, one hand on his length. Peter moaning into the kiss. The other arm wrapped around your neck. Grinding against one another for a while. Until you replace his fingers with yours on his cock. Making him groan harder than before. Stuttering your name as you stroke his member slow and steady. His head falling to the crook of your neck. You feel his trembling fingers work with your buttons on your blouse. Forcing you to go bare chest. "I want you (Y/N)." He moaned in your ear. His voice commanding, almost hypnotic. Making you shudder to your very being. Peter was irresistible right now. Too cute for words. Grinding his hips into your grasp, but also against your groin.

"I need you, Peter."

"L-Let's do it." He pants, struggling to get his pants off. And as soon as he gets his off, he looks at you, before loosening yours. Releasing your raging boner into the wild. Seating himself back onto you. You try to grind both cocks in your hands. But Peter has a different idea, flipping on his back. He wanted more.

“C-Can you…” He moans. “-touch me?” You sink deeper into the couch by his weight pressing down on you, angling your hips forward. As Peter climbs on top of you, anchoring his right arm around your neck. And resting his warm, masculine back against your body. Resting himself on top of you gave you such a beautiful view down his abs, onto his erection. He slowly sinks down, his ass cheeks guiding its way to your cock. You feel yourself harden even more. At this point, despite his enthusiasm, you can tell he’s nervous. “Are you sure about this, Peter?” Pressing gentle kisses down the side of his neck. Letting your fingers brush every inch of his skin. Peter completely lost in bliss by your touch. Whimpering as you caress his abs and pecs. You realize you’ve never been harder before.

"Y-Yeah…" He pants. "I want you…" Tilting his head towards you, searching for your lips, kissing you slow and passionate. "Yes… (Y/N). Please."

With one hand, you slick your length nice and wet. Making yourself ready for him. You watch for Peter's reaction as you place your tip at his hole. Pushing lightly against the resistance. Peter just moans, closing his eyes. Shuddering on top of you.  

"Talk to me." You whisper. "Does it hurt?" You watch him smile in response. Spreading his legs a bit further.

"N-No, it feels really good." He grins. "It… turns me on." Biting his lower lip.

"Good…" You stroke his length a few times. Making him whimper by your touch. Peter, on top of you, made you feel his every shudder and shake. Giving you a perfect insight into his level of pleasure. "Enjoy it." Before continuing to rub your tip along his ass cheeks. Softening up his flesh. With your fingers, you try to pry his little hole open a bit. Making it wet and ready.

"Put it in me..." He asks, breathing somewhat heavy.

You begin to push against his resistance. Trying to fit in the first few inches. You steady him on top of you. Watching his masculine torso heave up and down made you even harder.

"That’s it…!" He groans hard. "I... c-can feel you." He gasps. His ass cheeks clenching around your tip the moment you enter. Gripping around your tip tightly. You have to calm yourself down, closing your eyes, holding down your breath. Feeling his sphincter grip you so tightly was difficulty not cum already.

From your point of view, you can already see the sweat glistening on his body. You slowly begin to ease into him, your hand kneading into his chest, trying to make him relax. “It's so big…” He groans.

“It’s alright, Peter.” You keep touching him, softening him up. “Keep breathing.” He begins to push down on your cock. All without your help. Forcing you to slide deeper into him. His insides are warm and welcoming, the sensation enveloping. You halt for a moment, rubbing softly on his skin. Seeing his nipples rock hard turns you on incredibly. "How's that feel?"

"A…mazing." He gasps, his head falling backward. "G-Give it to me… please…"

“I’m going slow, Pete.” As you begin to move, his face a mix of pain and, seemingly, a bit of pleasure changes to a wide-open gasping mouth.

His breathing hitches with each thrust, you bring your mouth to his chest. With your tongue, teasing his chest. Stroking your tongue along his rippling chest. Circling his nipple, flicking it, before taking in-between your lips. Slowly suckling down onto it. Gasps of pleasure echo from his mouth as you continue by teasing his body.  

Despite his soft moans, seeing Peter this flustered on top of you actually makes him look even cuter. You can tell he’s feeling good. His face contorted in what you can tell is pure pleasure. Whatever you’re doing seems to be working as his ass tightens on you. “You’re doing great, Peter.”

Going faster, his grip around your neck strengthens. You feel him shudder, his ass tightening up on you. “It… feel so good.” He groans loudly. “I… can’t hold it… much longer…”

"Shoot it for me." You moan into his ear. While you watch him stroke his cock. His movement become jolted and irregular. You run your hands gently along with his abs, your mouth giving long, luscious sucks on his nipples. Peter was one panting mess, he loved his body being touched like this.

"I… I can't…" He stutters, his arms falling to his side. You watch as his cock twitch at each of your thrusts. You seize the moment and wrap your fingers around his meaty length. You have to be careful not to cum yourself already. Touching him like this. Sliding the wet ridges of his cock through your hand.

"Cum for me." You continue to tease him. "I want to see you covered in it, Peter."

His eyes widened in disbelief. Watching you as one panting and moaning mess. Desperate for release.

"Drench that beautiful body." That single comment made him clench around you tight. You see his toes curl, hip bucking against yours. Shaking. Shuddering. Accompanied by a loud growl of release and pleasure. He jolts forwards, gasping for air. As you thrust deep into him again and again. Your strokes on his cock, matching your thrusts. Feeling his cock spasm in your hand. Releasing a jet of cum on himself. Each push of your length, making him squirt more and further. Draining every drop from him. Until he falls back into your embrace. Spent and satisfied. Panting long and hard with his eyes shut tight. His body covered in wetness. Small trembles follow. His hand running across his muscled body. Feeling the wetness.

"Fuck…" You breathe heavily. Trying to hold it together. "That was hot." Connecting your lips with his shoulder and neck. Your tongue catching the taste of his wetness.

"I love you…" He says in a shuddering voice. "So… m-much." The largest smile stretching across his face. Kissing you slow and sensual.

His rolling hips distracted you immediately from continuing to grace his warm skin with your lips.   "A-Are you close?" He whispers to you.

"Yeah." You nod enthusiastically. Clenching your hands tight on his body. All warm and wet. Using whatever strength you have left to push him up and down your cock. You watch in amazement how his muscles stretch and bulge. Tense and relax. The size of his those thighs. The rippling muscles beneath the touch of your finger. God, he is so masculine, so complete. You feel overwhelmed. Short of breath. His proportions leaving you speechless.

Peter may be a bit inexperienced at it. But at this moment. This movement. The roll of his hips. Slow and steady. The angle on which he grinds down on your cock. So smooth and sensual. Swirling your cock through his wet, stretched insides. His flesh squeezing around your rock hard, pulsing member. Hugging it like you never felt before. While his breath fanned across your skin. Softly stifling groans by your penetration. Hugging you close.

"Keep going…" You groan. "Just like that…" Feeling your climax rise quick. Peter's insides felt smoother than before. You can't help but praise him more and more. Guiding you closer to your climax. The sight of his cock stiffening before you, makes you reach your high in no-time. Announced by a groan of pleasure and ecstasy, a load of cum erupts from your cock. You pull him close against you. Rutting into him. Filling his insides with your warm load.

Only the sound of heavy breathing, licking of lips, and tired moans. Followed by a burst of giggles. Peter still on top. You wrap your arms around his torso. Slowly sliding flat onto the couch. "Peter…" You whisper. "Something sparked yesterday, didn't it?" Biting your lower lip as he looks up at you with this cute smile. "I mean… look at that smile.” Your fingers gently playing with his ravaged curls.

He rolls onto your chest, laying his head to rest on his crossed arms. Releasing a content sigh. Dreamy eyes staring at you. "You make me smile (Y/N)." One finger tracing the lines of your collarbone.

You just love looking at him like this. Watching him absentmindedly circle his fingers on your skin. "I've grown to love you (Y/N). Everything about you is perfect. Your charm, your smile. You as a person. You're perfect in every way." Slight blushes forming on his cheeks. "I feel nervous, just looking at you." He giggles softly.

"Peter…" Cupping his cheek. "You're not the only one." Pressing your lips on his. "I love you so much."

“Will you tell mister St-…” He stops mid-sentence, his eyes glance up at you for a second. Realizing his mistake, as his smile grew larger. “-your dad about us? And your plans?”

"Yes… Yes, I will." For a moment, your thoughts wander off, imagining a rather uncomfortable conversation with Tony about you and Peter. "I know what I want." Brushing a few curls from his forehead, as Peter is obsessed with tracing his finger on your body. “Can you promise me one thing, Peter?”

“Wh-…?” Rising from your chest, seeing a bit of worry in your expression. “What is it, (Y/N)?”

“Please be safe.”

“I always am.” He smiles thinly. “Especially now that I have you.”

“For real, Peter. The Spider-Man stuff scares me.

“You really are the sweetest, (Y/N).” Peter shuffles closer onto you, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips. “I know what you mean. But don’t you worry. I’ll be extra careful.”

"I fear the day you don’t come home, Peter. I've seen it with my dad. I… I just want you to be safe… with me.” Pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Will you promise me you'll stay here?" Before you want to answer his question, his finger silences your lips. "Yes, or No?" He smiles.

"Yes… I'll stay here… If you come live with me." You watch his reaction, his smile growing. "Can you imagine comin-..."

Mid-sentence your cut off by his lips on yours. Passionate and strong. His hands holding onto your cheeks.

“Yes…” He mutters into the kiss with a big smile. “I… want… nothing more… than…to be …with you… every… single… day.” His body grinding against yours. Feeling him grow. "I want to be with you (Y/N).” Seeing the goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands roving on your skin. “You like that?” He smirks. Continuing to tease you.

"I like you, Peter." You groan by his tease. "With the whole of my heart." Tossing him on his back on the couch. Peter being much stronger, rolled you back.

“Let’s go to… our bedroom.” His smirks.

[icequeenoriginal]

What if you made a fanfic where bowceit puts a spell on roman where roman sees bowceit as virgil and virgil as bowceit

Author’s Note: I am so so so so so so so sorry. You asked this over a year ago, maybe longer but I got so distracted that I did not get to it until now. I was never going to abandon this, even if the AU is basically over. I hope it was worth the wait. I love the prompt by the way.

Mario AU belongs to @sugarglider-s

A03 link 

Warning: Brainwashing, mistaken identity, misunderstanding, fighting, villain but sympathetic Deceit, crying, yelling (Let me know if I missed anything)

Pairings: Prinxiety and Logicality 

Title: The Original is Always Better

~

It was supposed to be a fun day.

It was rare for Patton’s and Roman’s free days to line up with one another, even rarer for Patton’s, Logan’s, Virgil’s, and Roman’s free days to line up but on a Saturday at the end of the month, the stars finally aligned for such a thing to occur. They would have to thanks Remy next time they see him. 

Patton had come up with an idea for them to have a picnic on Emile’s island. They could make a whole trip out of it. They could visit Emile, swim in the ocean, lay on the beach. 

“That sounds like a perfect idea dear,” Logan replied, which made Patton smile and blush.

Roman nodded, “I can bring my beach ball, I haven’t used it in ages!”

“Could be nice to get some sun for once,” Virgil added.

And so the day was set, they would leave before sunrise in Patton’s pink plane. That way they could get as much of the day in as possible and a certain snake wouldn’t see them leaving the Mushroom Kingdom.

Patton and Logan spent the day before preparing the food as well as packing. Roman and Virgil meanwhile, came up with games as they packed. 

It was going to be a great day.

Keyword: Was.

~

As the main four were happily planning their getaway, Bowciet was sulking in his throne room, nothing his servants weren’t used to. 

He had suffered another bitter defeat by the Sarcastic Brothers. Plan after plan, he could never win. He would get so close and those annoying jumping brothers would always stupidly find a way to beat him. 

And the worst part? After they were rescued, the princes would go on and on about how they were so happy that they were saved by their wonderful boyfriends.

“What do those princes even see in those two lowlife peasants plumbers anyway?!” Bowciet exclaimed.

“Because they’re cool?” A Gomba suggested.

“Because they are kind?” A Koopa offered.

“Because they don’t kidnap them?” A hammer bro adds.

Bowciet growled and blew fire at them, making them run out of the room in pain and fear. Bowciet slumps back into his chair.

What his minions said was absolutely ridiculous. They were completely not cool, cool people do not ruin the plans of a king! They were both a four at best and they weren’t THAT strong. Logan could jump pretty high sure, but he was as boring as a textbook. How could Prince Patton ever be attracted to that? And Virgil, an anxious freak who jumps at his own shadow, Roman likes that?

Bowceit knew he would be a much better match for the princes but they never give him a chance to prove it. They usually turn their back to him when he puts them in their cells and ignores him. How rude of them. 

No matter how many presents and compliments he gives, they never give him a chance. Roman even had to gall say they both could not stand the sight of him.

Wait.

They could not stand the sight of him.

But they could stand the sight of those plumbers.

Bowciet smirked, his newest plan was forming in his mind. 

He summoned a Magikoopa to his throne room.

“Yes, your majesty?” The Magikoopa said as it entered the room.

“I need you to make me a spell, as quickly as possible.”“What kind, your majesty?”Bowceit smirked, “Illusion”

~

As much as Virgil hates getting out of bed early, and boy does he hate it, he was very happy to find out that the seats on Patton’s plane leaned as flatly as possible. He sleeps through the entire plane ride with Roman run his fingers through his hair. Virgil breathes in Roman’s scent. He smells like the flowers in his garden and the tea he makes. Mainly honeysuckle and strawberry, it causes Virgil to dream of running through the fields with Roman. It is them alone, with only the flower-covered valleys and the warm sun. 

In his dream, Roman’s smile rivals the sun, as if it doesn’t do that in the real world. Dream Roman runs a bit of head, a gap is starting to form between them. It made Virgil a bit nervous but Roman only looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Follow me!” Dream Roman shouts happily, “Don’t stop following me.”“Never” Virgil whispers.After a few more minutes of Virgil chasing Dream Roman, Dream Roman stops and stands in the middle of the endless field. 

Virgil stops a few feet behind him and pants, trying to catch his breath. Dream Roman turns to face him and lifts up Virgil’s chin gently. Virgil blushes and Dream Roman smiles at him.

Dream Roman smiles back and says, “It’s time to wake up Virgil.”

The dream ends as Virgil begins to blink, he feels someone is shaking him awake. He turns to the source of the shaking before immediately freezing when seeing how close Roman’s face is to his.

It did not matter that this was how Virgil normally wakes up, Roman always makes him freeze with how beautiful he is. Virgil can’t help himself as he scans every feature of Roman’s face as if he was seeing Roman for the first time.

Roman smiles softly at him, flashing his pearly white teeth, “Hey sleepyhead, we are here.”

Virgil nods quickly, face completely red with blush. “T-Thanks Ro.”

Roman kisses his forehead before pulling him up and out of his seat. Virgil can barely keep up as Roman runs out of the plane, having to hold down his hat as they go. 

Virgil has to squint when the light suddenly hits his eyes. Once his eyes adjust, he gasps at the sight in front of him. The beach sand is crystal white and very warm when Virgil touches it. The water is cyan blue, so clear that you can see the fish swim through it. The palm trees are ten times Virgil high with huge lush leaves. It wasn’t like Virgil hadn’t been to Emile’s island before but you don’t really have time to stop and smell the roses when an evil snake monster kidnaps your boyfriend.

Patton quickly rips off his shirt and jumps into the ocean to swim around, having changed into his swimsuit on the plane. Logan soon joins him, making sure to put out the picnic blanket and the picnic basket.

Virgil yawns, “I think I’m going to take another nap. The warm sand is just too tempting.”Roman giggles, “Okay then babe. I’m going to make a sandcastle next to you then.”Virgil had to physically stop himself from swooning. He knew that Roman had a bunch of stuff planned for them to do together and Virgil knew that Roman generally did not want to give up what he comes up with but he always does it for Virgil. Virgil is always his priority. 

Virgil pulls Roman into a kiss before laying down. 

Roman blushes, “What was that for?” Virgil wasn’t always one to initiate kisses.

Virgil covers his face with his hat to block out the sun and to hide his blush, “Just felt like it.”

Roman smiles at Virgil, his heart soaring with love for his boyfriend. Virgil always found a way to be sweet without trying. It was one of the things Roman loved about him.

~

Virgil woke up again to someone shaking him. This time it was his brother so Virgil was far less jumpy this time.

“What’s up, bro?” Virgil asked sleepily 

“We are about to eat lunch and I figured you would want some,” Logan replies 

“Lunchtime? How long have I been asleep?”

“You slept through the entire morning.”

“Did I miss anything?”“You missed Roman joining us in the ocean then he and Patton make this giant sandcastle,” Logan says as he points to a sandcastle that is about two stories tall. It looks like a miniature version of Patton’s castle except on the front, instead of a glass window with Patton holding a rose, it is a drawing of Patton and Roman made into the sand. Roman peeks his head out of the sand castle’s window and waves, “Virgil! My love! You are awake! Look what we made!” 

Virgil’s eyes widen in shock at how big the castle is and how it can hold both Roman and Patton. Roman does not seem to notice this as he exits the sandcastle with Patton.

They all sit on the picnic blanket and Patton serves the food. They eat are given their favorite sandwiches and favorite kind of chips. Patton also packed potato and macaroni salad for them all to share. 

“What do you guys want to do next?” Roman asks between bites.

“Hmm…Oh! What if we went for a walk around the island?” Patton suggests.

“That sounds absolutely wonderful Patton! I have been meaning to take note of the flowers around here to expand my garden!” Roman replies

Virgil snickers, “Do you even have any garden space left Princey?”

Roman waves him off, “I can just start a fourth garden.”“FOURTH?!”

“Instead of debating Roman’s plant obsession, we should finish our lunch so we can begin our walk,” Logan says while waving his hand to silence his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.

The other three nod in agreement and eat their food in relative silence.

~

Once they pack up their things and changed on Patton’s plane, the four head deeper into the island. They pass by plants and bushes that are twice their size but they oddly seem to be walking on a mostly clear path. Roman runs a bit ahead, hardly able to contain his squeals as he sees all the plants in front of him. He scribes a quick drawing of them into his little orange notebook. Virgil is standing next to him, holding his umbrella and smiling at his boyfriend’s antics. He adored Roman’s passion and will do anything to not let that fire die.

Eventually, the four come across an empty field. It has patches of leaves all around it. They all look at one another, something feels off. It seemed too quiet, none of them were used to pure quiet.

Patton squats in front of one of the patches of leaves. “It looks like the bed Emile has.”

Logan nods “The Emiles must collect leaves and make beds that they sleep on.”

“Why aren’t any of them here?” Virgil asks, nervousness creeping into his voice. 

“They might all be doing something right now.” Roman offers, hoping to calm his boyfriend.

No one else replied, there was no way it was something as simple as that, it never was. Patton moves to investigate another pile of leaves when it suddenly begins to shake. Before Patton can react, a Goomba jumps out, causing Patton to yelp. Patton falls on his back as the Goomba lands just by his head. Logan quickly stomps on it and helps Patton up.

Two dozen more Goomba jumps out from under the other piles of leaves surround the four of them. The four each take out six Goombas but don’t have time to celebrate when more of Bowceit’s minions surround them. 

Roman bursts into laughter “No originality Bowceit? Oh well! I’m going to make this fun for me! Whoever defeats the most minions gets the first swing on Bowceit!”Logan, Virgil, and Patton all exchange a look before all smiling and nodding. Unbeknownst to them, Bowceit was smiling too, his plan was working exactly as he expected. 

The four fought the Koopas, not noticing that they were being moved further and further away from each other. They push Logan and Virgil to one side of the field and Patton and Roman to the other side. Once they were where Bowceit wanted them, he sent Hammer Bros. towards them.  They throw their hammers between the two groups, forcing all four of them to be on their own and surrounded by Koopas. 

Bowceit smirks and walks out from behind the tree, receiving glares from all of them. “Well, well, well…look what the Koopas dragged in.”

All four of them groan, making Bowceit hiss at all of them. “Rude.”

“What do you want Bowceit, this time?” Logan says, annoyance and bitterness dripping from his mouth. 

“Oh please Logan, as if you do not know,” Bowceit replies as he looks at his gloved fingers.

Logan rolls eyes, “Of course…well since you are up to your old tricks, I might as well use mine!” Logan then jumps up in the air, well over the enemies. He lands a punch square into Bowceit’s jaw. As the two begin to scuffle, Virgil takes out the Koopas on their side to go help Logan fight Bowceit. 

On the other side, Roman starts to take out the Koopas near him. That is when he notices that the Koopas near him and Patton are running towards Virgil. Roman immediately feels suspicious. Bowceit normally sends the most amount of Koopas at Roman. He looks around and that’s when he spots it.

A magikoopa, directly diagonal from Patton waving its wand, ready to cast a spell. Roman runs to Patton as fast as he can.

“PATTON!” Roman yellsPatton turns to him confused, “Huh?!”The magikoopa fires the spell.

Roman shoves Patton out of the way and yells in pain as the spell hits him and knocks him to the ground. 

“ROMAN!” Virgil shouts and jumps over the group of Koopas. Logan kicks Bowceit away from and turns to the group of Koopas, ready to take them out so they can’t stop Virgil. He pauses, confused when he sees that they are not following Virgil, just standing. Logan turns his head to Bowceit and sees him smirking. 

Virgil quickly helps Roman up, “Ro! Are you alright?”

Roman blinks at him before grabbing his arm and throwing him across the field. Everyone but Bowceit freezes in shock. Virgil hits a tree and rubs the back of his head in confusion.”

Bowceit smiles, “Not the one I was intending,” Bowceit shrugs, “But I can’t complain!” Bowceit walks to Roman and smiles, opening his arms. “Excellent throw my dear”

Roman giggles and blushes. Bowceit takes cups his face and Roman leans into his touch, shattering Virgil’s heart.

Bowceit turns his head to Virgil with the evilest grin on his face as he carcasses Roman’s cheek. 

Virgil went numb. 

Virgil will be the first to admit he has a lot of fears. Some odd like jumping too high he gets lost in space and some serious like burning to death in lava. This, however, was worse than any fear of his.

Bowceit winning. 

He had gotten one of the princes. His prince. His Princey. And Roman looked happy in his arms. Roman’s normally kind and playful grin was replaced by a devilish and evil grin. And his eyes…

Oh god, his eyes.

One thing Virgil loved to do was just stare into Roman’s eyes. Roman’s eyes are normally warm, brown, and playful. His eyes now…they were ice blue. Piercing ice blue that sent daggers into Virgil’s heart. 

Bowceit picks up Roman bride style pulling the giggling prince close. Bowceit sends him a wink and runs off with Roman. 

Logan, who has been frozen in shock the entire time, takes a step forward only to have to dodge a hammer throw at his head. Logan narrows his eyes at them but something purple catches his eyes.

Logan sees his brother shaking, on the verge of tears. Logan is livid. He jumps up and stomps down hard on two Goombas. He angrily but silently takes out the rest of Bowceit’s minion in the area. Logan is panting by the time he is finished but ignores it to run over and check on Virgil.

Virgil clings onto his brother as he tries to get himself to breathe. This was not the time to panic, but it was also the perfect time to panic. Did this have to be Virgil’s life right now?

It took a while but Virgil was finally able to get his breathing normal enough to think straight. Patton made sure to give him a big hug just to make sure.

“Okay, okay,” Virgil pulls away from him “So what the heck just happened?!”“Language!” Patton shouted. Just because it is a stressful situation does not mean he will be allowed to curse.

Virgil blinked at him before shaking his head, “What happened to Roman?”

Logan pauses for a moment before replying, “Clearly, he has been brainwashed in some way. Most likely by whatever that spell was.”

“Right, right, great, great! Now how do we fix it?!” Virgil asks, already feeling his panic returning. 

“Well, it’s a spell, right? We need to find a magikoopa,” Logan offered.

Virgil nods, “Right, right. That makes sense. Of course, it makes sense. Is it always this hard to breathe?” Virgil says as he pants.

Patton pats his back as Virgil tries again to catch his breath. 

Logan puts his hands on Virgil’s shoulders, “Virgil. You are my brother. I will do anything for you. I will get Roman back.”

Virgil smiles and puts his hand on one of Logan’s hands, “Thanks bro, now let’s go kick some magikoopa butt!”

~Roman laughs as “Virgil” carries him through the island. “Virgil” jumped through the air, making Roman hold onto him tightly.

This was surprising to Roman. Virgil was never this energetic after a fight Bowceit. Though, to be fair to him, this time did not require traveling through nine different worlds to get to said fight. 

Roman was happy about this small change. Normally his poor stormcloud would be too drained to want to do anything but cuddle in their shared bed. Roman wouldn’t mind if it was because Virgil enjoyed it, he minded that it was the only thing his love could physically do that did not strain his body.

Well, now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to admire “Virgil’s” jumping skills. He knew both Logan and Virgil hated their jumping ability but that did not make it any less impressive. Though, Roman did think it was odd that “Virgil” seemed to land so loudly. He figured Virgil would be the lightest on his feet, after Patton and him of course. You can’t spend your youth dancing and not be.

Roman had no time to think about it as he gasps, nearly jumping out of “Virgil’s” arm. “Virgil” stops moving to prevent Roman from falling out of his arms. 

“Stop! Stop here!” Roman demands.

Bowceit raises an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Look at those flowers!” Roman untangles himself from “Virgil’s” arms and motions to the flower field in front of him, “I have never seen such amazing and huge flowers!”

Bowceit would admit that the flowers in question were…okay looking. They were very tall with bright pink flower petals. The petals were very vibrant pink with white accents. Bowceit feels his piranha plants were much nicer.

“We have to see more of it!” Roman shouts as he points to the field. 

“Maybe later, I have something much more fun in mind.”

Bowceit had a plan. He would convince Roman to come back to his castle and marry “Virgil”.

“What could be more fun than this?” Roman asked perplexed. What could be more them than running through a flower field and fall into each other’s arms only to stay there and watch the sunset?

“Well I was thinking we could go to Bowceit’s castle–” Bowceit begins only for Roman to cut him off.

“Pffft, we spend enough time there, too much time in my opinion,” Roman says with a laugh. 

Bowceit did his best to hide his annoyance with that statement. The spell may make him look and sounds like Virgil but unless he acted Virgil, there was a chance Roman could peek through. 

“Yeah but you knocked him out, maybe we could trash the place?”

Roman made a very perplexed face and Bowceit sucked in his breath. After a few moments, Roman bursts into laughter. “We do that too much too. Come onnnn, please?”

“I just…had a funny prank idea we could pull on him!” “Virgil pushed.

“I promise we can do that next time but when are we going to have a quiet moment and who knows how long these flowers again?”Bowceit did not have time for this. Another problem with the spell was that it only lasted until the sun went down. That is what he gets for rushing the creation of the spell but he wanted this done today. So much for being eager.

How would Virgil react to Roman’s begging? He knew virtually nothing about the younger plumber due to not caring to. The only thing he knew was he got upset easily which either led to tears or him getting punched in the face by the purple plumber. 

He did once overhear Roman describing a painting Virgil apparently did for him to Patton when they were both in his dungeon but he doubted it could help him in this situation. Unless…

“Alright, but just long enough for me to get a…drawing in,” “Virgil” replies, almost hesitantly. 

Luckily for him, Roman’s pleading face morphs into a soft accepting smile, “Of course dear. Then we can do whatever you want afterward.”

Bowceit smirks, “Excellent.”~

A magikoopa was flying peacefully when a green shell suddenly came flying at it. The magikoopa had no time to react before it was knocked right off of its broom and falls to the ground. 

The magikoopa screams as it went tumbling to the ground. It hit the ground with a thud and it grips its head in pain. 

Once its vision cleared, it gasps as it sees it is surrounded by a very angry Virgil, Logan, and Patton. All three of their arms are crossed and they are glaring daggers into the magikoopa.

The magikoopa scrambles onto its butt as it looks at the trio, absolutely terrified. Before it can try to escape, Virgil grabs it by the robe and drags it to make it face to face with him. 

It squeaks, “Don’t hurt me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Virgil growls out, “You were there! You cast a spell on Roman! Now tell me what you did to him!” 

As Virgil is talking, Logan walks around him to be behind the magikoopa. “Just so you know, Patton and I won’t hold him back.”

“In fact, we will help,” Patton says, his voice sounding like a horror movie villain.

The magikoopa began to sweat profusely. “It-it was an illusion spell!” it squeaks out.

“What kind of illusion spell?” Virgil asks, tightening his grip on the Magikoopa’s robe.

“It made Bowceit look like you and you look like Bowceit to Prince Roman! If it hit Prince Patton, it would have done the thing to Logan!”

 “That must be why Roman attacked you when you touched him,” Logan says as he rubs his chin in thought.

“Alright so now tell us how to break the spell!” Virgil shouts. 

“I am not telling you anything!” the magikoopa says, acting as if its voice was not completely shaky.

However, before Virgil could do anything, Patton rips the magikoopa away from him.

Patton glares at the magikoopa with nothing but malice with his eyes. “You are going to tell him so we can save my best friend or you are going to deal with me,”

“Like you can hurt a fly!” The magikoopa barks at Patton.

“I only hurt those who deserve it, and you for one, deserve a lot.” Patton throws the magikoopa to the ground in anger. He pulls out his umbrella and swings it down on the magikoopa.

“WAIT!” the magikoopa screams.

Patton stops just as the umbrella is about to hit him. “Yes?”“I’ll tell you everything! I swear!” the magikoopa pleads, getting on its hands and knees.

“Then start talking,” Patton says with a glare. 

“There is no way to break the spell!” Patton winds up to swing again.

“BUT! THERE’S A BUT!” the magikoopa “The spell will end when the sun goes down! His plan is to marry the prince before then as you!”

“Anything else?” Patton asks

“Bowceit Jr. made me come up with a spell to make himself taller.” the magikoopa replies, looking down at the ground in shame before bursting into tears. 

The three of them look at each other, very uncomfortable. They slowly back away from the crying magikoopa and head off to find Roman.

~

Roman had a great time in the flower field. He was able to collect some seeds of the flower and have a nice walk through the field with “Virgil”.

Though “Virgil” seemed to be awfully quiet, not having anything to say to him.

It strikes Roman as odd. Sure, Virgil was always one to keep to himself. When Roman would boast and brag to his Thomases and Talyns, Virgil would walk silently next to him with a smile on his face as he intently listens to whatever Roman has to say.

However, when they are alone, Virgil becomes the more talkative one. He would go on about his adventure with Logan, his ideas for songs, and anything that was on his mind. 

Roman figures that something must be wrong. With him being uncharacteristically pushy earlier and with him not saying anything, there must be something going on in his mind. 

“Mind if we rest in the tree for a bit? My legs are a bit sore.” Roman asks while pointing at a tall tree.

“Virgil” shrugs and follows him. Bowceit knew it was a bit late in the afternoon but he was sure they still had enough time to complete his plan. He goes to sit next to the tree but stops to watch Roman climb the tree. 

“What are you doing?” “Virgil” asks.

Roman stops his climbing. “What does it look like? I’m sitting in the tree.” Roman replies, almost laughing.  

“But why?”

“Because we always sit in trees together?” Roman replies, looking very confused. 

“Oh? Oh! Of course! Sorry, I completely forgot.” “Virgil” scrambles up the tree after him. Roman continues to climb up confused. 

Roman sits on a high branch that overlooks the island. Bowceit could see that the sun was beginning to go down. He frowns, he is running out of time. He was nowhere near his castle with the wedding chapel. He doubts that there were any wedding chapels on Emile’s Island, there were hardly any buildings at all.

“Alright, what is wrong? Don’t tell me it’s nothing, you wouldn’t be frowning if something wasn’t wrong.” Roman asks, his arms crossed so there was no room for discussion. 

Bowceit was stuck. He began patting his sides nervously, it was a habit he has always had ever since he was younger. 

As he was doing that, he felt a small box in his pocket. The ring! He had completely forgotten that he had it on him with everything going on. 

Bowceit tried to hide his shock at discovering the ring but he clearly did not do it well as Roman cups his face. 

“Stormcloud, tell me, please. You know you can tell me, anything babe.” Roman asks gently. 

Bowceit’s finger’s rest of the ring box. This was his last shot. 

“I have something to ask you,” “Virgil” asks as he slips his hand into his pocket. 

Roman is confused, he knew Virgil put his hands in his pockets when he was nervous but he had no idea what was making Virgil nervous. 

“Will you…?”

“Will I?”“Will you…tell me why you like me?” 

Bowceit didn’t know what possessed him to ask that question. It was always lingering in his mind. Why them and not him? He was a king after all! With minions and a huge castle,  not to mention very adorable children. So why did the princes date the plumbers? They are plumbers, what exactly do they have to offer?

Roman’s frown was deep that Bowceit was so sure that it would cause permanent frown lines. He takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, I am only going to say this once more. So make sure it stays in your brain this time because you know I hate repeating myself.” Roman emphasis his point by poking “Virgil” forehead. 

“Alright, alright, I get it.” “Virgil” replies, waving Roman off, “Just tell me.”

Roman makes a show of clearing his throat, tapping his chest, and do some vocal exercises. “Alright. First off, I demand as your prince and loving boyfriend that you never doubt our relationship again. I know you get anxious about a lot of things but we should not be one of them, my stormcloud. I adore you. I love how cautious you are but are still willing to jump over literal lava when I am kidnapped. You are strong and a hero. But that is not all I like. I like it when you sing when we sit together under a tree and read a book. I like doing nothing and everything with you because it is you. You are an amazing artist and musician. You are an amazing brother and boyfriend.”

Bowceit is shocked, to say the least. He has never heard Roman talk this soft or sweetly. The ring felt heavy in his hand.

“And secondly, I don’t just like you, I love you.” Roman says as he puts his hand on “Virgil”’s hand that is resting on the tree branch. 

Bowceit looks down at their hands before looking up at Roman’s face. He is smiling, the most loving smile Roman had ever given him. Roman’s now blue eyes seemed to shimmer with joy and love.  

This is all he ever wanted from the prince. And yet…

It felt wrong. This was wrong. 

He squeezed the ring box. He had to make a choice. 

~

As this was happening; Logan, Patton, and Virgil seemed to be running around like chickens that have lost their heads. They first headed straight for Bowceit’s castle after talking with the magikoopa. They were shocked when they did not find Roman but rather the danger noodles making a gigantic pillow fort in their father’s throne room.

They headed from world to world afterward but they could not seem to find Roman anywhere. They made it back to the Mushroom Kingdom before deciding to take a breather. 

Once they arrive, Virgil walks up to the closet tree and punches it. He immediately regrets this action as his anger quickly turns into pain. He sticks his wounded fist into his mouth to silence any curse words that threaten to escape. 

Patton pulls him into a hug, gently rubbing his back. He rocks Virgil back and forth in an attempt to soothe him. Virgil tears up, though he is not sure if it is because of the pain or the sadness he has been trying to suppress all day. 

Once the pain dulls, Virgil pulls away from Patton, and Patton lets him go. Virgil tends to pace when he needs to calm his mind down. 

Virgil paces in front of Patton’s castle, almost biting his nails but stopping when he remembers he has gloves on. “AGH! Where could they possibly be?!” Virgil shouts in anger.

“We will find them, Virgil,” Logan replies.

“No, no. No, we won’t!”“Virgil–”

“No, no Logan, don’t you dare! Don’t tell me we will! Because we have looked everywhere! We went to every Zone, fuck, we’ve been to his castle! And even if we do find them, they probably are already married. That’s probably why we can’t find them because they’re on their goddamn honeymoon! It’s over! He’s gone!”

Virgil pauses, the weight of his words hit him, “He’s gone…I lost him.” He nearly fell backward from it. He begins to hug himself, trying to catch his breath. 

Logan is completely lost. He wants to reassure his brother but he doesn’t know what he could possibly say to help him. He had no logical positive explanation. The logical explanation is that Virgil is right. He did not know what to do. 

Luckily, Patton does. 

“So you’re just going to give up?” Patton says, making the two brothers turn to him. His pink sleeved arms arm crossed and he is glaring at the pair. 

“You guys are only heroes when it’s easy for you? Now that you’re in a hard spot you’re just going to stop?” Patton says angrily 

“Well, dear, there is not–” Logan starts but Patton silences him with a hand raise. 

“Don’t ‘dear’ me! And don’t you dare say there is nothing you can do! What would Roman say? What would Roman DO? Do you think he just sits around and waits for you guys to save him?’“No…” Virgil replies “He never gives up. H-He would keep trying…”

“That’s right! So you need to do that too!” 

Virgil is silent for a few seconds before standing up straight, “You’re right…”

“What was that?” Patton says, his face morphing into a smile. 

“You’re right!” Virgil shouts, determination coming back to him, “I am not going to give up! Because I am not a quitter!”

“That’s right! So what are you going to do?!”

“I’M GOING TO BREAK BOWCEIT’S FACE!”Patton blinks at him, “…What else are you going to do?”

“Oh uh save Roman. THEN BREAK HIS FACE!”

“Okay, kiddo.”

“I WILL SEARCH EACH ENDS OF THE EARTH AS MANY TIMES AS POSSIBLE TO BREAK THAT UGLY SNAKE’S FACE!”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” Logan chimes in. 

Both Virgil and Patton turn to him and say, “Huh?” 

“Think about it, where was the first place we checked when we knew Bowceit had Roman?”

“Bowceit’s castle, but he wasn’t there,” Virgil replies, still confused. 

“And when we saw that they were not there, where did we go?”

“To every other place, we know Bowceit has a tower.”

“So that means we didn’t check…?”

“…THE ISLAND! THAT SON OF A BITCH NEVER LEFT THE ISLAND! WE GOT TO GO!” Virgil screams before taking off in a run. 

“Virgil! Kiddo! We have to take the plane!” Patton shouts after him. 

“Oh right.”

~

“Cover your eyes and follow me.” “Virgil” instructs Roman as they climbed out of the tree. Roman raises his eyebrow skeptically but covers his eyes with one hand, using his other hand to take “Virgil’s” hand. 

They walk for a while before Roman hears what sounds like running water. “May I open my eyes now?”

“Not yet, not yet, Count down from..from 300.”

“300?!”

“Virgil” sighs, “Please? For me.”

Roman rolls his eyes behind his hand, “Okay, okay. But this surprise better be worth it. One, two, three…”

Bowceit steps back from Roman with a frown. He shakes his head and runs away as quietly as possible.

He could not believe that he was actually doing this. He should be jumping at this opportunity and fast, the sun was starting to go down. He looks over his shoulder at Roman still counting. He sighs and continues to walk away.  

Damn his stupid conscience.  

~

Once the plane touches the ground on the island, Virgil runs out of it. He is prepared to rip this island to sherds to find his beloved. Luckily he only has to run for a bit before he finds Bowceit. 

He jumps up and goes to punch Bowceit but Bowceit dodges. Virgil lands and gets into a fighting set “You…”

“I’m not here to fight,” Bowceit says putting his hands up in defense. 

Virgil rolls his eyes, “Wow, that’s a first, but I do not care. Where’s Roman?”

“He’s down that path,” points, “He’s fine, just counting.”

“What? Why is he counting?” Virgil asks, prepared to hear something about a bomb. 

“He’s counting down until the spell breaks. Go and get him.” Bowceit says. 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” 

“Because I’m heading to my airship by myself. But don’t believe me, it doesn’t make a difference to me.”

Virgil stares at him, and he can’t find any indication that Bowceit is lying. “…Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t want to win this way.”

Virgil looks at him in utter shock. 

“Oh pick up your jaw from the ground plumber. Don’t read into this. I will marry one of those princes, just not like this.”

Virgil couldn’t hold back his smirk, “Not if my brother and I have anything to say about it.”

Bowceit smirks as well, “We will see.” He salutes Virgil before stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking off. 

Virgil’s smirk morphs into a relieved smile. He takes off to Roman, he’ll break Bowceit’s fave another day. 

~“Three…two…one…” Roman removes his hand “Oh my gosh…”

The lake he had been brought to was surrounded by Evening Primroses and Moonflowers. The sky was filled with bright beautiful stars. Roman smiles at the scene before turning around. Standing behind him is Virgil, staring at him with his bright brown eyes. 

Roman runs over to him and takes his hands. “This place is beautiful. Did you find it on one of your adventures? Wait, don’t tell me. I want to listen to the wonderful sounds of this place.” Roman looks around with a smile before his eyes land back on Roman.

His brown eyes. His soft, warm, and oh so loving brown eyes. 

“Stormcloud, why are you crying?” Roman asks as he cups Virgil’s hand and wipes the tears away with his thumb.

Virgil lets out a watery laugh, “Nothing baby, I just love you so much.”

Roman kisses his nose “And I love you too. And I will always love you.”

Virgil grins, “I know.”

~

Taglist:

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[fruit-teeth]

Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 16)

It was after breakfast when Olivia spotted a box in the living room, and out of curiosity, she peeked inside. It was filled with an assortment of items, such as a few books, some tools, and some metallic items she was unable to identify. She dug through the box, pursing her lips together in disappointment. She hadn’t had an idea of what she was hoping to find, but she hoped there are at least would be something in there she could enjoy.

“Whoa, there, kid!” Engineer’s voice piped up from behind her, and he gently pulled her away from the box. “What are you after?”

Olivia shrugged, peering back into the box again. “I dunno! Something interesting, I guess…”

Engie thought for a moment, tapping his chin. “Interesting, huh? Well, this is just some stuff for my workspace, you ain’t gonna find anything too interesting in here. Except…”

He reached into the box, pulling out a small camera. “I got this! It’s a real nice camera, see?”

Olivia leaned in to look at the device. It was smooth and sleek, though a little dusty around the crevices, and she watched as Engineer brushed some of the dust away with his finger. “There we go,” he hummed, before passing it to her. “Do you know how to use a camera?”

“I know a little!” Olivia replied, taking the camera into her hands and looking it over. “I saw Daddy use one once…” she turned it around, searching for the button, and she pressed it once she managed to locate it. Instantly, there was a flash, and the camera began to click.

Within a few seconds, the camera spit out a small picture, which Engie tugged out and held up to the light. “There we go! Give it time to develop, and then you got a nice picture!”

Olivia took it from Engie’s hands to get a good look at it, watching as the accidental picture she had taken of the carpet slowly developed. “Oh!” she gasped, feeling proud of herself as she showed Engineer. “Look! It worked!”

Engineer laughed. “Great, yeah! You can use it if you want! I got a bunch of these cameras laying around, go ahead and take pictures! I used to take all kinds of pictures as a kid,”

Olivia stuffed the picture into her pocket, and she turned away to scamper up the stairs. “I’m gonna take pictures of everything!”

“Yeah, go ahead!” Engie chuckled, picking the box up and rising to his feet so he could finish setting the office up.

Olivia ran up towards the bathroom, where she spotted Scout brushing his teeth over the sink. Without giving any kind of warning, she positioned her camera and took a photo of him, the flash catching him off guard.

“Gah!” Scout exclaimed, nearly choking on the toothbrush. “Jeez, kid, what the hell!?”

The camera produced the small photo, and Olivia tugged it out, waving it around like she had seen Engineer do. “Look what I got!”

Scout squinted at the object. “Camera, huh? Cool, but if you’re gonna take a picture of me, it better be a good one!”

“Good one?” Olivia repeated, stuffing the new photo into her pocket with the other one.

“Yeah! Hang on,” Scout wiped his mouth with a towel, before he took another, clean towel and draped it around his shoulders. He then struck a pose, flexing one arm and grinning. “Okay, now take a picture!”

Olivia held up the camera again, snapping a photo. Once it printed, she pulled it out of the slot and held it up to the light, giggling. “Looks like a magazine!’

Scout laughed, reaching for it. “Lemme see!” when she passed it to him, he stared at it for a moment before nodding in approval. “Yeah, looks great! You could be a photo-person or whatever, for newspapers and stuff,”

“Could I?” Olivia looked down at the camera, thinking about it. Any future job besides taking her father’s place had never seemed like a possibility…but, given her current circumstance, taking photos could end up being her job instead.

Just then, Lar-Nah stepped out of the other room, and when Olivia heard her, she turned right back around and took her picture as well. Lar-Nah jolted in alarm at the flash, letting out a yelp.

“What was that!?” she demanded to know. “Why are you taking photos!?”

“Hey, be nice to the kid!” Scout reprimanded. “She’s just taking pictures, she’s gonna be a photo-person maybe!”

Lar-Nah composed herself, before she just shook her head at Scout. “Photographer. You mean photographer. ‘Photo-person’ is not a job,”

Scout waved her off. “Same difference. Hey, kid,” he put his hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “You wanna take pictures around the house?”

Olivia glanced back over at Lar-Nah. Lar-Nah lingered by the doorway, before she turned and headed down the stairs.

“Don’t worry about her,” Scout cleared his throat. “How about you take pictures of like, stuff outside? Or bugs? I dunno, that kinda thing,”

“I don’t want to take pictures of bugs,” Olivia wrinkled her nose. After a moment, she decided, “I’ll take pictures of Teddy!”

“Oh, the doc’s monkey? Sure, go nuts,” Scout turned back to the mirror, slathering shaving cream on his face. “I gotta shave real quick,”

Olivia tilted her head in confusion, watching him apply the shaving cream. “But you don’t have a beard,”

“Better go see Teddy before he takes his nap,” Scout suggested, raising his voice slightly, though it was clear he wasn’t trying to be mean. Olivia shrugged, and she headed back down the stairs in hopes of getting a picture or two of Teddy.

Upon arriving to Medic’s basement lab, Olivia stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked around, trying to remember where he kept Teddy. The basement had been rearranged slightly since the last time Olivia had been down there, so she tried to figure out where Teddy’s playpen had been moved to.

However, as she peeked over the doorway and into the lab, she noticed something unusual. There was a TV down there, now, and Heavy was seated on a couch in front of it. As Olivia watched, she realized that Medic was there, too, but he was curled up beside Heavy, cuddling against him.

The TV showed an old, black and white film, and a man on the screen tripped and fell into a trashcan as a laugh-track played. Heavy laughed out loud, as Medic just clicked his tongue and mumbled something about how ‘predictable’ the show was. Heavy leaned over, nuzzling Medic’s cheek with his nose and chuckling. Medic could not help but smile, exhaling of his nose as he nuzzled back. Then, the two of them kissed one another gently.

Olivia watched in stunned silence, blinking slowly. She almost forgot about the camera in her hands, and without thinking, she loosened her grip on it. It slipped out of her hands, and once she realized what had happened, she acted quickly and attempted to catch it. She managed to catch it, but not without accidentally pressing the button and taking a photo of her own sock by mistake.

Medic startled at the sound of the flash, and he jerked his head up in alarm. “Gott!” he exclaimed, noticing Olivia. “Child, did you take a picture of us!?”

“No, I didn’t!” Olivia pulled out the picture once the camera spat it out, holding it up for Medic and Heavy to see. “I-I was just—!”

Heavy shushed her, getting up from the couch. “Is okay. What you need? Need something?”

“I…” Olivia then spotted Teddy in his playpen, which had been moved over next to Medic’s cabinets. The little baboon was sleeping peacefully, sucking on his pacifier in his sleep. Olivia shook her head. “No…”

“All right,” Heavy smiled at her, though he seemed a little uneasy. “See that?” he pointed to a little bell hanging up outside of the lab. “Ring that next time, yes?”

Olivia looked up at the bell, and she nodded after a moment. “Okay…I will,”

She walked slowly back up the stairs, wondering about what she had seen. Were Medic and Heavy in love? She had seen old movies before where people kissed, and they usually did that when they were in love…she didn’t see what was so great about kissing, though.

Just as Olivia wandered into the kitchen, the side door swung open. She looked towards the direction of the sound, and it was right then that the Administrator walked in with Miss Pauling right behind her.

Miss Pauling noticed the camera Olivia held in her hands, and she nodded at it. “Hey! You’ve been taking pictures?”

“Yeah,” Olivia reached into her pockets, fishing out the photos she’d taken so far and showing them to her. “I got these ones!”

As Pauling bent down to get a look at the pictures, the Administrator set her purse down on the counter to watch Olivia show off her photos. When Olivia noticed Helen watching her, Helen cleared her throat and looked away.

“Olivia,” she began, before looking back at her. “I’m going to hold a meeting with the adults, so you will need to be upstairs for that,”

Olivia frowned, huffing. “I don’t wanna! I was just up there!”

Helen raised her voice just a little. “You have to, a meeting is no place for a child,”

Olivia crossed her arms defiantly, glaring up at Helen. “No! You can’t make me do anything!”

“Really?” Helen crossed her arms in return, taking a step forward. “That simply isn’t true…”

Miss Pauling suddenly cut in, getting between Helen and Olivia. “Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t you go outside and take pictures of plants and stuff, Olivia? It’s really pretty outside, that might be fun,”

Olivia turned to look out the window, seeing that it was, in fact, very nice and sunny outside. She looked down at the camera again, and then shrugged. “Okay…yeah, I can do that, I guess…”

“Good!” Pauling gestured to the door. “How about you do that while we have our meeting?”

“She should be supervised if she’s outside,” Helen muttered, leaning against the counter to rub her temples.

“Oh…yeah,” Miss Pauling looked around, and she spotted Zhanna lingering in the adjacent dining room. “Hey! Zhanna, can you look after Olivia while she’s taking pictures outside?”

Zhanna glanced up, and she nodded. “That is fine,” she walked up to Olivia, taking her free hand and leading her to the back door. “Come, little Olivia,”

“Okay…” Olivia didn’t really want to miss the meeting—she liked meetings, she liked being somewhere where she could feel important. But she didn’t mind being around Zhanna at all, and she found that she actually enjoyed taking pictures.

As the back door closed, Helen let out a long sigh. “What am I going to do with that girl?”

Miss Pauling fell quiet, before she placed her hand on Helen’s arm to get her attention. “We should really get the guys down here for the meeting,”

Helen shook herself, nodding in agreement. “Yes—yes, of course,”

Once Olivia and Zhanna were outside, Zhanna pointed out a patch of grass in the yard. “Look—grass, take picture of grass,”

Olivia wrinkled her nose at the thought. “But it’s just grass…”

Zhanna went quiet for a moment, before she knelt down in the grass and pointed to the soil. “Get close—see?”

“See what?” Olivia moved a little closer to try and see what Zhanna was pointing at. There, in the soil, sat a little stone, surrounded by smaller pebbles. At first glance, it didn’t seem terribly interesting, but the more Olivia stared at it, the more appealing it seemed somehow.

After a moment, she got her camera back out, snapping a photo of the little rocks. As the picture printed out of the camera, Zhanna glanced back up and reached for it. “Let’s see?”

As Zhanna took the freshly printed picture into her hand, Olivia stood behind her and watched it develop. Once it became visible, Olivia couldn’t help but grin with pride. “It looks nice!”

“It does,” Zhanna agreed with a nod. “You are good at this,”

“Yeah…” Olivia stuffed the picture into her pocket with all the others, before trotting away to the trees behind the house. “I’m gonna find more things!”

Zhanna smiled, and she stood up, following closely behind Olivia. “All right,”

Inside the house, the mercenaries were, once again, gathered in the study for another meeting with the Administrator. This time, however, the atmosphere was different.

“So—wait,” Engineer just shook his head with a sigh. “Sage is sending people after us, now?”

“I said he possibly will send someone,” Helen clarified. “He’s been known to do that with opponents, and well, we are no exception. That is why we should waste no time preparing our defenses,”

Heavy frowned. “This is very bad. Of course, we can destroy puny men, men like him. But…why he want this? With us?”

“It’s me he’s after,” Helen explained. “But its your job to make sure Sage or whoever he hires doesn’t penetrate this place and destroy us again. Once you do your job, I will deal with Sage myself…”

Demoman just stared at his shoe, digging his foot into the carpet. “Sure, you will,” he murmured under his breath.

Helen glanced up when she heard the muttering. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing,” Demo responded, clearing his throat.

There was a pause, and Helen made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “You may leave. Make sure you have your weapons on hand just in case,”

As the mercenaries dispersed, they began muttering amongst themselves once they were out of earshot from Helen.

“There she goes again, dragging us into a mess she created!” Medic huffed as he retrieved his bonesaw from one of the boxes. “Not that I don’t mind a new set of targets, of course, but goodness!”

Scout leaned against the wall, shaking his head. “Man, people don’t just settle things themselves like they used to…if I was her, I would’ve messed up that Sage guy myself! In fact, you know what? I’ll do it!”

Sniper just rolled his eyes. “No, you won’t,”

Spy watched these interactions from a distance, before he turned to look at Miss Pauling, who was busy putting away some folders. He made sure no one else was watching, and he then approached her and got her attention by tapping her shoulder. “Miss Pauling,”

Miss Pauling paused, turning to look up at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Spy thought about how to phrase his question. “Well…I would like to know about Helen: why is she doing this?”

“Doing what?” Pauling folded her arms, leaning against the cabinet.

“You know her better than anyone,” Spy went on. “What I’d like to know is why she even wants to keep dragging this on, why she’s doing all of this…why can’t she just…?”

“Die?” Pauling finished for him, a glare in her eyes.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Spy clarified.

Pauling sighed, leaning her head in her hand. “Yeah…sorry. I just…” she looked back up at him, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “It’s complicated,”

“All of it?” Spy questioned. “How is it complicated? Is there no simple, straight explanation as to why she’s staying with us like this? Why she cannot simply kill Sage herself?” another thought crossed his mind, and he added, “Why she’s keeping Olivia here?”

“God, Spy!” Pauling sighed again, a little more exasperated than before. “I told you, Olivia is gonna be fine!”

“I know you told me that,” Spy affirmed, lowering his voice a little. “But I am not inclined to believe you,”

Pauling’s hands balled into fists. “Oh, yeah? And why? What do you think she’s gonna do with Olivia?”

Spy looked all around to make sure Helen was not watching or listening in, and when he made sure she had left, he turned back to Miss Pauling. “I think she’s going to adopt Olivia, and then do something to her to get her fortune,”

Pauling went quiet, and she covered her face with her hands after a moment. “No…Spy…”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Spy pressed, starting to feel angrier by the second. “Miss Pauling, you know I respect you, but I cannot get behind this. Crimes committed against children, to me, are the worst crimes. You know this.”

“No…” Pauling just shook her head again. “No, no, you don’t understand. She’s not gonna hurt Olivia, Spy!”

“And how do I know that?” Spy persisted. “How do I know she won’t—?”

Miss Pauling suddenly blurted out, “Because Olivia’s her daughter! Helen isn’t going to hurt her own kid!”

The words hung heavy in the air. Once Pauling realized what she said, her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. “I…I…”

Spy blinked, his brow creasing in confusion. “What?”

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Please Keep the Cat in the Bag

ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217166

Summary: It was one of the reasons Time had agreed to this. They needed time to rest their bodies, but more than that, they needed some time away from the constant threat of pain. The constant threat of death.

Twilight had thought an empty town full of cats would be the perfect location to lay low for a day. The perfect place for everyone to relax. 

Turns out, he was very, very wrong. At least concerning one of their members, anyway.

“Get that mangy ball of fur away from me!”

Twilight recoils from Four’s vitriolic words, pulling the mewling bundle of calico fur back into his chest. The kit squirms in his more restrictive hold for a second before it settles into the warmth of his body, letting out a content little purr that pulls at the farmhand’s heart.

Which just makes Four’s reaction to the kitten all the more confusing to Twilight.

They had arrived in his Hyrule only the night before, walking out of the swirling portal and into the warm dusk of his northern Hyrule Field. At the sight of the darkening sky and having gone through a long day already, they had just camped out then and there. It was thankfully a pretty peaceful evening, the Stalhounds keeping their distance in the dark.

So when Twilight had asked Time if they could make a quick detour to boost morale and his mentor had agreed, the pelt wearing hero had been ecstatic to show the other heroes his secret getaway.

Once Impaz began living in Kakariko to keep an eye on the still recovering Iliya, there was no one around to watch after the clan of cats living in the dusty husks of the old buildings of the Hidden Village. And with his quest over and not much to do with his free time other than go back to his job in Ordon and avoid the hordes of people who wanted to meet the hero, it was like a match made in heaven.

An isolated little place where he could work with his hands, fixing up beds and little hideaways for the felines all while taking care of the little critters. The perfect solution.

Besides, cleaning the place up helped to keep his mind off of… other things.

Which brings him back to now.

Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Last time Twilight had checked, Hyrule was sitting in the middle of the dirt road, not minding the dust getting on his pants in the slightest as he pet the many cats that encircled him. Two fat brown tabbies had  claimed his lap, purring up a storm as the traveling hero reached out to pet every cat that came in contact with his hands, a bright bright smile on his face.

The only one who had more cats surrounding him was Wild, who was giving out fish like there was no tomorrow. Twilight had watched with faint amusement as many furry bodies crowded up against the scarred teen’s boots, some of the smaller ones even daring to hook their claws into his pants and climb up him in order to reach the fish that were materializing out of the slate.

A little closer to the old bar, Twilight had seen Warriors sitting in the shade with a black cat cradled in his arms as he cooed at the little thing, bright yellow eyes trained on the captain’s face like the creature understood that it was being called a very pretty girl, very very pretty little void.

Wind, meanwhile, had accrued a small flock of his own; a horde of orange and brown kittens giving chase as the boy dragged Warrior’s scarf in and out of the old buildings as he ran.

Time and Legend, Twilight had noticed, were playing it more cool, both leaned up against the old wood of the buildings instead of actively engaging with the cats.

However, an old looking tom cat, with a chunk out of his ear and looking far too tired for all the excitement, sat at the Old Man’s side licking itself slowly.

Next to him, Legend had his mirror out, reflecting a small circle of light into the dirt that a few cats chased after, butts wiggling and eyes dark.

Essentially, everyone seemed to be relaxed and enjoying themselves. Except for Sky and Four.

When they had entered, the Chosen Hero had given the felines a wide berth, eyeing them wearily. As the others were set loose to play with the cats, Sky had, for the most part, kept his distance, gingerly offering his hand to a few cats that walked his way.  However, before any of them could respond– positively or not– Sky would snatch his hand away, as though anticipating a swipe.

After a while of watching the others play and observing Sky failing to interact with the felines, Twilight had taken pity on him, scooping up a ginger kitten and depositing it gently into Sky’s arms. The other had frozen up for a moment, before a soft smile took over his face, eyes locked on the little ball of warmth.

“Sorry,” he had said, using a free hand to tickle the belly of the kitten, “I’m usually not very good with Remlits.”

"Well it's a good thing these are cats then,” Twilight had replied with a smile, before turning to leave the Chosen Hero with his new cuttlebug of choice.

Which had been when Twilight had caught sight of their smallest party member, resolutely ignoring the calico kitten mewing at his feet.

Like Sky, Four skirted the cats as soon as the group had entered the dilapidated village. However, unlike Sky, Four didn't even attempt to interact with the little mammals. He didn't offer his hand or even lean down toward the little creatures, instead, walking swiftly away whenever one would approach him.

Twilight had chalked it up to the kid’s odd compulsion to seem mature, striding up to the smithy, intent on doing what he had done for Sky.

Which led him to where he is now, a small black and orange body clutched to his chest as bright, flashing blue eyes glare at him from a baleful face.

“What?” Twilight says, stunned by the aggressive tone the smithy had used. Of all of them, Four was one of the slowest to anger. Well, except for the occasional outburst of emotion from the smaller hero, but those were few and far between.

Four takes a step back away from Twilight, putting distance between them. Then, the small teen takes a deep breath and Twilight watches as the anger seemingly melts away from his face, replaced with a complex, strained expression.

“What I meant was, please don't bring one of those,” and Twilight catches how the smithy’s face seems to cringe ever so slightly as he eyes the kitten, “any closer to me. I… I’m allergic.”

A snort from behind, has Twilight turning. Legend pulls himself to his feet, a snarky smile on his face as the veteran waltzes over to them. Based on the look on his face–and the way Legend just is as a person–he's obviously been listening to the conversation.

“Now, I don't think that’s necessarily true, Smithy,” Legend says with a teasing smile. Twilight watches as Four’s face darkens, a scowl playing at the younger’s lips. Unfortunately, while it is true that Four is slow to anger, it is also true that the one who could most easily drive Four up a wall was Legend.

Part of his charm.

“See,” Legend continues, smile still in place as he stares down Four. “If you really were allergic to cats, I think you would have been hacking up a lung the moment we set foot here.”

The weight of the kitten is suddenly pulled from Twilight’s arms as Legend scoops the little furball into one hand, petting it with the other. The pink haired hero turns back to Four, kitten in hand.

Four takes another step back.

“I think you’re a scaredy cat. Or, actually, just scared of cats,” Legend says with a derisive little laugh, holding the kitten eye level with the smithy.

The midday sun catches oddly in Four’s eyes, almost making them look like a vortex of color.  The smithy’s gaze flickers between glaring at Legend’s smug expression and staring at the kitten, as though the little hero can’t bear for the cat to be so close to him without keeping an eye on it.

“I-I…” he says, brows pulling low then back up, a glare and then a spark of fear, like his face can’t settle on an expression.

A flash of lavender and then the colors settle into a murky hazel. “I don't have to justify myself to you,” he says, ice dripping from his voice. Then, Four turns on his heel and strides toward the only whole building– Impaz old house and where they’re staying tonight– and walks through the door, slamming it closed behind him.

The loud clack of the door shutting echoes, several of the cats jerking up from their relaxed position with the heroes. Six pairs of eyes look up in question. Twilight waves them away. As the others go back to coddling their cats, Time’s eyes remain locked on him.

The younger gives his mentor a nod. He can handle this.

The pelted hero turns to look at Legend, who in turn, actually looks surprised at the development, his usual cock-sure attitude set to the side for the moment as he stares back at Twilight, eyes wide and mouth in a small “o.” The farm hand levels him with an expectant look, eyes half lidded and mouth quirked to the side, a silent “now look what you’ve done.”

“I didn’t know he was going to react like that!” Legend replies to his unspoken words, voice going high, defensive.

Twilight lets the disappointed look linger.

“Okay, yeah maybe that was a dick move, but I didn't mean to actually piss him off. Just… just…” Legend’s mouth clicks shut as he looks for his words in the dusty ground.

Twilight has mercy on him, even if the veteran doesn't really deserve it right now.

With a sigh, “I know you didn’t mean it. I know we like to joke around and get under each other's skin. It’s what brothers do. But you need to learn when it's a scar you're poking at, not just a bruise.”

Legend sighs, still resolutely looking away, a mumbled “Yeah whatever,” tumbling from his lips.

Twilight places a hand on the other’s shoulder, bringing electric blue eyes back into focus.

“I’m going to go in there and talk to him and when we come out, you should probably apologize,” Twilight says sternly.  

Bright blue eyes roll, but the veteran hero doesn't deny or fight back against the suggestion. Which is as good as Twilight is gunna get from Legend, so he takes it.

Twilight gives Legend one final nod and releases the smaller hero's arm, squaring his shoulders  toward Impaz’ old house. In front of the door, he takes a breath in, holds it, and then lets it whistle out from between his teeth.

He takes hold of the doorknob and enters.

He isn't exactly sure what he expected.

When Wild gets upset, the teen goes silent, steely faced and voice lost to the wind. Irrelevant , the scarred teen had once signed to the wolf. What I think is irrelevant. So why even voice it? His fingers said, hands shaking with too much energy. Too much emotion.

It usually takes a spark of something , finding a korok, a nice breeze in his hair, or the smell of a home cooked meal to knock Wild out of his funks and back into his usual mischievous self.

The kids back in Ordon were much different. When they were younger and Twilight would say something wrong to Iliya, the girl would go purple faced, tears slipping down chubby cheeks as she ran home to her father. Only watching Link get a stern talking to from Bo would calm her down.

Malo was similar, minus the crying home to momma shtick. Rather, the baby faced boy would stand, letting fat tears drip down his face until he guilt tripped Twilight into giving him what he wanted. Talo would get angry when he was upset, throwing a tantrum, loud and violent. Beth would tattle like Iliya.

And Colin… Colin would hide himself away when he was upset, much like Twilight himself when he was younger.

And yet, Twilight sees none of these things when he opens the door. No steely eyes, no tears, no red face, no hiding. Rather, Four sits on the floor, bag open next to him, whetstone in one hand and sword balanced in his lap, the rasping sound of metal on rock a slow rhythm in the room as the teen calmly hones his blade.

The smithy glances up from his work to catch Twilight's eye but does not stop sharpening the sword, his eyes soon returning to the metal as he goes for another swipe over the whetstone with slow practiced motions.

Twilight takes a seat in front of the smaller hero, crossing his legs under himself to mirror Four’s sitting position.

“He said he’ll apologize when we go back out,” Twilight starts, conciliatory.

Four snorts and shakes his head, the sword grinding more harshly against the stone.

“Well at least there's something out there to look forward to,” he says bitterly, not looking up.

Twilight frowns at that.

“Do you really hate them that much?”

The blade stills on its stone, the rhythm halted, silenced. With a sigh, Four stowes the whetstone back in his bag, and then, with a gloved hand, begins to thumb along the edge of the blade, checking for inconsistencies in the finish.

“I don’t hate them. I just…” Another gap of silence. Twilight watches as Four’s thumb stills on the blade, eyes distant and flicking over its shine as his head shakes once and then bobs with a slight nod.

“Do you ever feel like the whole world changes when you… transform?” He asks eventually.

The question throws Twilight off balance for a moment.

“Hmmm. Yes and no, I guess. The world doesn't change so much as my perspective on it changes. I can experience things as a wolf that I can’t when I’m Hylian. I can run faster, smell, hear, and even see things I never was able to before. It’s still the same world, just... different.”

Four nods absently as though he was expecting the answer. He flips the blade, checking the other side.

“And these new experiences, these things that you get to see when you’re a wolf, they affect you even when you’re Hylian again, right?”

Twilight nods his head. After being able to speak with animals of all sizes, hearing their thoughts and emotions, he had… cut back on his meat intake. It didn't quite feel right anymore, knowing about their sentience.

With reverent hands, Four takes his sword and sheaths it, done with his maintenance and inspection.

“The same is true of me and my… little adventures,” Four says, words soft as he gives Twilight a meaningful look.

Oh. Oh.

Four nods at his unspoken sentiment.

“When I shrink,” he starts slowly, as though meticulously picking out each word before he lets them drop from his mouth, “I shrink to the size of something called a Picori, or as they prefer to be called, a Minish.”

The words are unfamiliar, new to the pelted hero’s ears.

“What exactly is a Minish?” Twilight asks with a slight tilt of his head..

“Not a what but a who.” Four corrects. “The Minish are a race of mouse-like creatures who live in my and everyone else's Hyrule." An eye twitch. "Well, almost everyone else's Hyrule. If you’ve ever found yourself wondering why there always seem to be spare rupees in the grass, they’re the reason why.”

A smile breaks out over Four’s face, and again, Twilight finds himself entranced as colors dance in the boy’s eyes. “They’re creatures of magic,” Four continues, ignorant of Twilight’s stare, “They love to bring light into the world and can only be seen by children or those pure of heart.”

“They sound great,” Twilight puts in, a small smile pulling at his face as he watches the teen in front of him brighten

“Oh they are,” Four agrees with a grin. “They helped me so much during my first adventure. They helped me to see a whole new world. Or rather, the same world through new eyes.”

The smile dims slightly as the teen’s eyes cloud over, far away. His gaze moves to his hands which twitch in his lap with nothing to do.

“When you’re that small,” he says, voice soft, contemplative, moth’s wings fluttering, “Everything is so different. Blades of grass are trees. Streams are uncrossable channels. Getting hit with a raindrop is like taking a stone to the face.”

“But the Minish don't just live in the forest or on mountains,” Four says with a shake of his head. “Several of them live in towns, colonies of them in the rafters of Hylian homes. An entire world that no-one sees, right above their heads.”

“But even with protection from the elements, their lives aren’t suddenly easier. They just trade grass for tiles, streams for roads, rain for clumsy feet or wandering hands or dropped objects. It’s not easy being an invisible mouse in the home of blind giants.”

Four turns his wide, childlike eyes on Twilight and the pelt wearing hero is suddenly struck with how similar the smaller hero looks to Colin. Same bright blonde hair, same haircut that frames the sides of the chin, same expressive eyes.

“What do you think happens to creatures the size of mice when they live in towns?” Four asks, quietly. “What do you think happens to mouse-like people in towns where people keep cats as pets?”

Twilight’s stomach drops through the floor as a memory burns itself behind his eyes. It is a simple memory. One he wouldn't normally think about twice. It is a memory of him going to Sera’s shop to get more bee larva for fishing and seeing her cat named Link– a terrible coincidence– race around the shop, pouncing at thin air.

“You know, they say cats chase away evil spirits,” Sera had said with a proud smile as she watched the feline line up another jump.

Twilight remembers the cat wiggling its butt, eyes dark dinner plates in its face. He remembers how the cat had lunged forward in a flash of brown, swiping at nothing with it’s paws. And he remembers how, even though not but air was scored by its claws, the creature had still leaned down, first sniffing at the ground and then, with a delighted purr, biting.

Twilight suddenly feels a little sick.

“I know I can’t blame them,” Four says with a sigh, pulling Twilight back into the present. “They’re just following their instincts.”

The light from a window catches in Four’s eyes, a flash of cobalt… no, forest green.

“But I swear, they’re blood thirsty little things. Killing even when they don’t have to eat,” Four says with a grimace. “It’s cruel.”

Twilight will have to have a very serious talk with Link–Cat Link, Hylia what a nightmare– about what he has and has not killed.

Suddenly, a thought flys through Twilight’s head, a fire arrow in the night.

“Have they ever attacked you?” the farmhand asks with a slight bit of dread.

A nod. Nothing more.

“Again, rationally, I know I can’t blame them.” Four mutters. “They don't understand.” Then, with a self deprecating snort, “And, rationally, I also know that I shouldn’t be weary of them when I’m like this, but I am. I can’t help it.”

Twilight nods his head, taking hold of Four’s shoulder with a firm grip. The teen looks up, a small, glum smile still on his face.

“What you feel about them is totally understandable, Four. I’m sorry I brought you here without warning. I should have said something.”

Another sad little laugh that makes the guilt in Twilight's stomach all the more acidic, potent.

“You had no way of knowing that I was afraid of cats, Twilight.”

Twilight blows a breath of air between his teeth, releasing Four’s shoulder. He glances around the small room. Not many had taken the time to unload properly, instead quickly ditching their packs in order to get to the cats as soon as humanly possible.

“We don't have to stay here tonight,” Twilight says. “We could easily make it to Castle Town before sundown if we leave soon.”

But Four just shakes his head. “After the last few days we’ve had? No way.”

Twilight winces, remembering the fight against the aeralfos. And then the fight against the stone talus. And then the fight against the horde of Wind’s darknuts. It had been a rough last couple of days, draining them of energy and healing supplies alike. They were tired and hurt in more ways than one.

“They need this,” Four says with a decisive nod.

Twilight sighs, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the sandy strands on the back of his head. Four is right. It was one of the reason’s Time had agreed to this. They needed time to rest their bodies, but more than that, they needed some time away from the constant threat of pain. The constant threat of death.

Twilight had thought an empty town full of cats would be the perfect location to lay low for a day. The perfect place for everyone to relax.

Turns out, he was very, very wrong. At least concerning one of their members, anyway.

“Anyway,” Four says, waving a hand as if dismissing the conversation like one would dissipate smoke, “Enough about this. Go have fun with the others.”

Twilight feels his face scrunch up in disbelief.

“I’m not just going to leave you here alone.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Four says with that odd, conspiratory smile that sometimes passes over his face. “Besides,” he continues, smile gone just as quickly as it had appeared. “You’re here to relax too. I know for a fact I saw you cradling one of those little menaces like it was your first born child.”

Twilight raises his hand in mock surrender, letting out a little laugh.

The pelt wearing hero pushes himself to his feet, stretching out a couple kinks in his spine. There are a few loud pops and Twilight winces slightly. At the rate he's headed, he’ll be older than Time in body, if not in spirit.

“What will you do in the meantime?” he asks, over his shoulder as he walks toward the door.

“You know me, I’m good at keeping myself busy,” Four replies with that odd smile again. “I think I’ll do some maintenance on the weapons that are here. After what we’ve gone through recently, they could probably use a check-up.”

“Good idea.”

Twilight pauses at the door.

“Is there anything I could do to make you more comfortable?” he asks, Uli's rules of hospitality running through his mind.

Four hums thoughtfully for a moment. And then, “Could you make sure no one brings their new best friend in here tonight?”

“I’ll make sure they know,” Twilight says solemnly.

“Oh and if Wolfie could, I don’t know, accidentally knock Legend into some kitty litter, that would be appreciated also.”

A chuckle escapes Twilight's lips as he throws a smile over his shoulder.

“You know, I think that can be arranged. Wolfie and I go way back afterall.”

[ilguna]

Tacenda - Chapter Eight (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 2.7k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Unfortunately, it wasn’t good enough. Snow had made the decision, and Elysia was required to let you guys know that the games would continue on tomorrow. It might be because Snow thought that Katniss being pregnant was bullshit. Or it could be because it’s the Quarter Quell. The Quell can’t be cancelled, and the games are never postponed.

Peeta gave it his bet shot though, and you can admire him for that.

“What would you do if I were pregnant?” you wonder out loud, looking over to Finnick from where you’re laying on the hammock.

He’s got a pad of paper and a pencil. He’s been sketching you in different poses from where he sits in a fancy, cushioned chair. He pauses for a moment, looking up at you.

“You mean like right now?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you rock the hammock a little bit, “I’m not pregnant or anything, I’m just curious is all.”

Finnick breathes out playfully, wiping some fake sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, “You had me worried for a second.”

It’s quiet for a moment, “Well?”

“Well, I guess I would have to do everything in my power to make sure that you win the games,” he says, “You would have to make it home, no exceptions.”

“You would break an alliance with them just to get me home?” you ask, laughing because the idea is a little ridiculous.

Finnick makes a face at you, “You really think I would let you die in that arena?”

“Hopefully not,” you say, “I wouldn’t think it would be that important.”

“You’re kidding.” he goes back to drawing on the paper for a little bit.

You lean your head back against the rope, “Would you want a boy or a girl first?”

“Now is not the time for dumb ideas.” Finnick laughs, and you join in.

You shrug, “I would want a boy first so he could look over his little sister.”

And it’s almost a curse on your family anyway. There’s always boys that are born first, and they tend to look after everyone else. It happened with your dad, until your uncle was lost in a fishing accident. You can’t remember any of it now, you were so small at the time.

Plus, the thought of having a little Finnick running around. With his hair, and his green eyes and his perfect personality. You’d melt instantly, because you know that Finnick would be such a great dad. An immediate replica of him.

You can see it all now. If the games hadn’t happened, you would have started to think about kids. You two have been waiting a while just because you guys are just hitting your mid-twenties and you have your entire life to look forward to. You guys thought that you had all the time in the world, so there was no rush.

You know how excited your family would have been to see you and Finnick ease up. A healthy distraction from your past. A new thing to focus on, and raise to be better than you and Finnick have ever been. You guys would pass on all this information so if they did get pulled for the games–since they’re not immune–they would be prepared.

“A boy would be nice,” Finnick agrees, “But I would like a girl.”

You look at him, “There’s no way. With our luck we’d end up with a boy because it’s tradition.”

He rolls his eyes, “It’s not tradition, it’s chance. Luck, as you said. And since it would be my genes–!”

You laugh, watching as he makes a fool of himself. He flexes his arm slightly, “She’ll have muscles as big as mine.”

“That’s one buff baby.” you laugh, and Finnick flips the paper to start a new drawing.

“At least we’d be able to cross another goal off the list.” he says quietly, “Have a baby.”

You nod slowly, because now you’re realizing that the list will be incomplete.

Of course, there’s a chance that neither of you die in that arena, for however long it lasts for. Since you guys will be protecting Katniss and Peeta to make sure that they get out of the arena at the first chance that comes. And now you’ll start banking on that hope.

The list doesn’t have to be incomplete. You just have to be extremely careful when it comes to every fight you come across. Whether that be with people, or mutts, or some element that they throw in.

“Let’s hope that we make it out together.” you tell him.

Even from where you guys sit in Finnick’s room, you guys can hear the knocking at the apartment door. Finnick sits up a little bit, debating if it’s worth it, and then he leans back down. Elysia and Mags are out there with the prep teams and stylists, they’ll be able to answer the door.

They’re letting you and Finnick relax, instead of forcing you guys to spend time with them out there. You’ve already eaten dinner with them, had conversation, and complimented the outfits that they made you guys. You thanked them for everything that they’ve done for you.

Laurel told you to save it for tomorrow because that’s when she’ll be seeing you off before you’re in the arena. So, you saved your goodbyes for your prep team, whom cried like babies as if they didn’t realize that this was it. This was going to be the last time that you would see them.

“Finnick!” Laurel yells.

Finnick sighs, tossing the pad of paper on the bed, and then he comes over to you to help you off the hammock. Once you’re on your feet, the both of you head out to see why they were yelling.

Haymitch stands at the door, almost like he’s impatient.

“What’s the matter?” you ask.

You go down the steps, joining Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy at the door.

“Here,” Haymitch holds out the bracelet to Finnick, “For tomorrow.”

You open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape. It’s the new token that Haymitch had promised to get one of you. It’s to show Katniss–mostly–that you guys are supposed to be allies. It’s Haymitch’s way of telling them to stick close to you guys. That he had set up an alliance, and he doesn’t want them to screw it up.

It was decided on the third day of training on what your roles would be in the arena. Haymitch had stopped you guys and taken you into the stairwell instead. Sure, it could have been extremely suspicious of you guys, but it’s not like they would be able to make anything out of it. Just three people taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

You guys have everything sorted out.

Katniss had apparently taken a liking to you for whatever reason, which was good enough for Haymitch. There’s a great possibility that Katniss will trust you a little more when it comes to things. So you’re going to have to make sure that she’s calm, and she’s looking to you guys a little more for decision making.

It was decided then that you and Finnick would be the ones to follow her and Peeta around. Get your weapons, and then get the hell out of there. Since there’s a great chance that Katniss will run towards the cornucopia rather than run away. This is why there’s two of you.

Finnick will be doing his best to get to the cornucopia first so that he’s there for Katniss. And you can relax a little bit when it comes to that, because your job is to be eyes-on making sure that they don’t run away. They run away, you follow. They run towards the cornucopia, Finnick is there to catch them.

As for Johanna, she’s supposed to round up Wiress and Beetee for Katniss’ sake, since those are the two people that she had wanted to team up with originally. If everything had gone her way, it would be you, Peeta, Katniss, Wiress and Beetee. Honestly, you’re glad that Haymitch didn’t allow her to make any choices in this.

And everyone else will be doing what they have to. Get their weapons, meet up with you guys later in the arena. You aren’t supposed to seek them out, they’ll be searching for you. Which will be absolute hell for them, especially if it’s a difficult arena to navigate.

It’s not your problem. Your main focus will be on making sure that Katniss and Peeta don’t get hurt by the careers. And since you’ve had more than your fair share of experience with careers, you know how their minds work. They’re going to want the cornucopia all to themselves, and they’re going to take it any way they can.

“Thanks,” Finnick says.

“And (Y/n), I got you one too.” Haymitch says, he pulls out a gold ring that’s engraved to look like a beach. With seashells, little dots for the sand and a wave too.

You look down at your wedding ring, tilting your head a little bit as if you’re not sure it’s worth it. Then, you pull it off.

“Thank you. These have already passed the inspection?”

He nods.

You take the new ring into your hand, and you hold it in your hand with the wedding ring. Something that it’s so simple, that it could be mistaken for a pinky ring. It doesn’t have diamonds, it isn’t made out of gold and it doesn’t have any gemstones attached to it. It’s literally polished silver, weaved into the pattern of a single wave.

“Hold onto our rings for us?” you ask, holding out your hand a little bit for him.

Finnick takes off his too, and Haymitch pockets them, he nods, “I’ll take good care of them.”

“We will too.” You say, and you know that he’ll take it in the way, that you guys will be careful with Katniss and Peeta.

You slip on the new ring, a little unsure by how it feels since it’s not a smooth texture. But soon enough, you get used to it.

You guys say your goodbyes, and once the door is shut, they all stare at you and Finnick expectedly. Only, Mags already knows the plan on what’s going to happen in there. It’s the prep team and Elysia that have no idea.

You and Finnick end up excusing yourselves to go to bed, not really wanting to stay up much longer. If you guys are dragging your feet tomorrow, then that’ll come back and bite you in the ass. Before you guys went into the rooms though, you had to hand off the jewelry to Pleurisy and Laurel to hold onto.

It was a hard night to sleep through, you’ll give it that. It took a while for Finnick to fall asleep, and you thought that might have been the problem for you. You were worried about him not getting sleep, but in reality, things weren’t just sticking correctly for you.

The idea of having Alyssum watch you in there was off-putting. She obviously knows what you had to go through in order to win the games the first time. But you guys never really talk about it. You don’t really say ‘back when I was in the games’ in a conversation. It was overlooked for so long, because it was so meaningless until the games came around and you and Finnick had to go and mentor.

She knows that you had to kill people, but she doesn’t actively think about it. Tomorrow, she’ll get to see just how ruthless you are when it comes to killing. You can’t be nice about it. You can’t lessen the blow with what you do, because that’ll just end up getting you screwed over.

You can’t just mercy kill. If you’re going to kill someone, then that means you have to go through with it. Mercy kills are saved for mutt attacks. If someone is giving you hell in the arena, and you finally get your hands on them, then you’re not going to kill them quickly. If they’re all over your tracks, and they’re teasing, and stealing and coming back for more, there’s no way you’re letting them get away with it. You’ll show them the treatment that they deserve. Even if it’s not pretty.

The hunger games aren’t pretty.

You got up this morning relatively quickly. You and Finnick were up the moment the clock hit seven, despite having at least four or five hours to get ready. You took a shower, being careful of your fake nails, because they’re going to be helpful in the arena, you just know it.

You washed your hair and made sure to tie it back and out of your face in a tight ponytail. You pulled on what they require you to wear. Which is the leggings, the tank top, and the jacket this time around is optional. You slip on your shoes and break them in so you don’t get anymore blisters by accident.

You and Finnick eat as much as you can muster without feeling sick. You drink everything in its usual order, and after the first cup of coffee, you opt for a second. You stop there though, afraid that your stomach will start becoming upset after that.

You guys had got escorted to where the hovercraft would be coming from a few minutes ago. Finnick sits right next to you, holding onto your hand tightly. Unfortunately with these seats, you can’t lean into him like you want to. The lady comes around with a tracker, and you hold out your right arm, since the left is what you went with the first year.

Finnick follows you with the same arm, not really bothered with how thick the needle is. He leans his back against the seat with his eyes closed.

Only a few minutes later, you guys had reached the underground area. You kiss Finnick goodbye and tell him to be careful. He tells you to do the same, and you split up with your stylists. Laurel leads you down a series of halls until you guys get to this year’s place.

They offer no food this year. It’s like a sewer with how the place is framed. They’ve got pipes coming in and out of places, and you guys are standing on metal ground. Here, Laurel makes you get changed into your outfit for this year. It’s like a wetsuit, long sleeved, down to your ankles.. It has the neck of a regular shirt though, without the brim. And finally, black boots that seem to be waterproof. And you’re using the word ‘boots’ lightly.

“Here’s your ring.” Laurel slips it on to where your wedding ring is supposed to be.

The voice lets you know that there’s only thirty seconds left before you’re supposed to step into the tube that’ll bring you to the surface.

“Thank you, Laurel.” you hug her tightly, and she squeezes as much as she can afford to, “You were the best stylist I could have asked for.”

“I know.” She laughs, “I promise to send you something.”

“Don’t go bankrupt,” you smile, “Send me something useful, huh? Not some dress that you designed.”

Laurel nods, “I will.”

“Fifteen seconds until launch.”

You grab onto Laurel’s arms, “Tell Mags I say goodbye, alright? I’ll be doing my best in there, but it’s going to be a miracle case.”

She nods and hugs you a final time.

You go ahead and step into where you’re supposed to stand. Watching as the glass comes down from the top. It makes you feel a little claustrophobic at first, but you manage to remember that it’s only for a couple of seconds.

You wave goodbye to Laurel, and she does the same. After that, you turn your back towards her.

And take a deep breath in.

[moominquartz]

rating: T fandom: Steven Universe prompt: Secretly Drawing the Other warnings: None Apply word count: 3.4k requester: @kohakhearts​

[IMG attached]

Connie is in desperate need of a reference picture.

My first complete fic for Fluff Bingo, which is something solely in a writing discord I’m apart of! Yes, it was inspired by BTHB, but it’s fun to have something to go to when I’m all out of angst juice. :)

[Read on AO3!]

~*~

Connie has never been especially talented at anything outside of school. She wins only as many tennis matches as she loses, and she struggles with the advanced sheet music that most of her peers seem to pull off flawlessly. Her grades are always A’s, sure, but that hardly seems like talent or skill, only an ability to test well.

The one thing Connie has never allowed herself to itemize — never allowed herself to compare herself to others, no matter how tempting it is — is her ability to draw.

To be fair, she knows she isn’t very good. When she begins, she’s heavily influenced by the wide-eyed, shoujo anime she adores, and proportions are the furthest thing from her mind. She draws solely for the fun of it, for pure expression. She draws when she’s ecstatic, she draws when she’s angry, she draws when she’s so sad that her tears stain the pages.

It’s only pencil drawings, but they’re very personal to her, and it’s something she doesn’t want anyone knowing she’s doing. Her parents know, because they’re her parents and she needs them to buy her the sketchbooks and the pencils. None of her friends do.

No one except Steven.

“Whoa,” Steven whispers with wide, childlike awe as he holds her sketchbook between his hands. He cradles the book as if it were scripture bound in expensive, gilded leather. “Connie, you’re amazing.”

She blushes. “Oh, it’s not anything special.”

“Are you kidding?” He looks at her with such fervent belief that it throws her off-kilter. “Connie, I don’t know anything about drawing, but look at all the details you put in here!”

That isn’t quite true; Steven draws as well, though maybe not as frequently as she does. Still, she supposes she can see what he’s saying. Even though the proportions are way off and Archimicarus should not be double the size of Lisa’s head, Connie took the time to put in every accessory she loved into Lisa’s outfit. She was determined to make sure Lisa was recognizable, despite the fact that the movie hadn’t come out yet and nobody knew what Lisa was going to look like.

“Okay,” she murmurs, feeling high on the praise. “All right, I’ll take that. Thanks.”

He grins. “Will you show me more sometime?”

“Oh, uh… sure.” Flattered that he’d even ask, she agrees without thinking about it.

-

Connie starts to draw him. Not out of any intention, and certainly not because she wants to. It happens entirely by accident that she looks down at her sketchbook, struggling to find inspiration, and realizes she’s doodled his head in the corner.

It becomes commonplace that, when they’re spending time together — time not always spent doing something, but rather, sharing the same space and simply being — Connie will draw.

Sometimes Steven asks, but more often than not she says no. He takes absolutely no offense at all, and that’s part of why she likes him. He just lets her do her thing while he chugs through another playthrough of GolfQuest Mini or plans out his next TubeTube video. 

Connie’s never been good at drawing real people. They’re even harder to get right than her anime characters. But the doodle doesn’t look entirely bad. It doesn’t look like Steven, but it doesn’t look bad.

And this is how Connie learns to use references: she stares at him while he doesn’t look at her.

She’s nervous at first, watching him while she draws. She’s afraid he’ll realize what she’s doing and draw attention to it. He’ll strike a pose or blush and say something about how she should be drawing someone else, or worse, he’ll ask to see it when she’s done. But Steven doesn’t do any of that. He keeps right on going, completely oblivious.

Connie gets pretty good at drawing him.

-

Years pass and Connie gets pretty damn good at drawing him.

The way she draws him changes with time. Her skills transform and puberty hits Steven like a freight truck. Every time she sees him, he seems to have grown a few inches. She hardly gets the chance to draw him more than once or twice while he’s in front of her. Once she reaches high school, she has far less time to just “hang out” — or if she does, and they aren’t doing anything, she’s forced to spend her time doing homework.

And then she figures out the work-around.

“What’re you up to?” she asks aloud as she types it into text. “Send pics.”

It sounds as if she’s asking for something else, but she absolutely isn’t. She hopes her Mom doesn’t still go through her text messages, or else she’s going to have a very awkward conversation with her later.

Her phone dings in response before she even sets it down.

w/ lars at the bakery!! lookit this! [IMG attached]

Yes, score! She only hopes it’s got a good enough angle—

—aaaaand it’s a picture of a dessert. It’s a very delicious-looking chocolate orange mousse, but it’s not of Steven.

She tries again on a different day, when she’s so tired of studying her eyes will fall out if she has to read one more word. She pulls out her sketchbook, lays on her bed, and texts him again. I’m so boredddd. Doing anything fun?

To prompt a photo in return, she attaches a selfie while she’s lying on the bed. It isn’t the best selfie she’s ever taken, but this isn’t about that. It’s about getting one back.

Steven, as always, replies quickly. sry, @ LH, can’t talk now. No picture. Connie glances at the clock just to make sure it is, indeed, past 8 PM, and she frowns.

Fine. Maybe she can ask for some help.

I am so sorry, Connie. Pearl’s texts are always way longer than they should be. You should’ve asked me a few weeks ago! I had a ton of pictures saved, but I recently exported them to an external harddrive. And he’s been so unwilling to let me take pictures of him recently.

Connie bites her lip. Pearl isn’t exactly a ‘grandma’ with technology — most of the things she’s learned how to operate, she’s done herself or only after one demonstration — but Connie wonders if she pressed, if she asked Pearl to retrieve her most recent picture of him to send to her, that Pearl would be a little too curious in return.

With all other options exhausted, Connie turns to desperate measures.

“Why am I doing this, again?” Amethyst asks over the phone. “Can’t you just, like, ask him yourself?”

“Please,” Connie all but begs. “I can’t tell you what it’s for, I just need a picture of him from the front, and it need to be at least waist-up. Although if you could get a full picture of him standing up, that’d be even better. Oh, and please don’t let him know that it’s for me.”

“Hmm.” Amethyst’s little hum is plotting, and Connie absolutely hates it. “Well, what do I get in return?”

“Huh?”

“What, you’re not expecting me to do this for free, are you?”

Of course. This is Amethyst. Connie chews on her bottom lip, considering.

“Well, what do you want? I could order Fish Stew for you.” Connie’s mom gives her enough of an allowance for her grades that that wouldn’t be a problem. “Or some of Lars’s bakery’s treats, if you like.”

Amethyst’s laugh goes to her bones. “What? I’m gonna need more than that. Hmm… How about this: I’ll take the picture for you, but you gotta come here to get it yourself.”

“What?” Connie’s voice squeaks. “You can’t be serious, Amethyst! It’s a school night!”

Amethyst snickers. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get it tonight. I’ll text you when I have it, and you’ll get it when you come over. Oh, but when you do, you’d better bring two full pizzas with you, okay?”

“O-kay,” Connie mumbles, defeated.

“Sweet. Catch you on the flip side.”

-

do u need his face showin?

Connie blinks at the text on her phone, three days later. She’s just gotten out of school and Amethyst sent it three hours ago. 

Yes.

dam. well heres the outtake [IMG attached]

When Connie clicks through, she gets the full shot of Steven all right. But he isn’t standing upright and still; instead, he’s rushing past the camera, blurring the shot, a hand in front of his face to block it from being seen.

This is a shitty picture.

i kno, that’s why i sent it to u w/o getting pizza, dam!!

-

In the interim, Connie tries once more to provoke a selfie from Steven. This one requires a little more effort and is incredibly flirtatious — borderline forward — but she has to try it. Her sketches of him seem more and more off by the day, and it’s driving her nuts. She needs that reference shot, at least one.

She has a violin concert one Friday night. She dresses up for it, wearing black slacks, a white button-up with a high collar, and a black blazer. A simple tie, black with blue stripes, adorns her neck, and she lets her hair down. Like this, it would just barely tickle her shoulders. She puts on a little more makeup than she normally would for a concert; she dabbles in foundation, in blush and lipstick, when normally she would settle for mascara and concealer, if she decided on makeup at all.

Eyeshadow is still too foreign for her, but she hopes this is enough.

Then the trick is taking the selfie itself. At first she takes a shot without her shoes on, then decides it would probably look better with them on, especially if she’s trying to get one back. So she puts on her nice pair of loafers and stands at the full-body mirror in her room, taking a deep breath as she tries to set her nerves to rest.

“It’s fine, Connie,” she murmurs. “It’s fine. It’s just Steven, and what’s the worst thing that could happen? That he just flat out doesn’t respond?”

That is, by far, the worst thing that could happen. She doesn’t know what he’d do if he did that, because Steven is always the type to reply within a few minutes. She doesn’t know if it’s just like that for her or for everyone, but she has to trust that he’ll reply to this.

She takes the picture. It’s a little lopsided because her hand is shaking, but it’s the full picture of her, head to toe. She sends it off with a caption that, she hopes, is not too flirtatious, not too forward, because she would hate to put him off:

Don’t I look nice? What are you wearing tonight?

She bites her lip. Mom calls for her to get going, that she’s taken too long, but Steven’s response is almost instantaneous: a long, long string of heart eyes emojis and hearts of different colors and patterns. Then another text, this one saying, you look amazing!! i wish i was there!!!

It isn’t a selfie, and it doesn’t answer her question, but it makes her heart soften nonetheless. He’s so good to her, and of course that makes him difficult to manipulate. Maybe she really should just ask.

Several hours later, on the drive back home from the concert, she turns her phone back on. And to her surprise, there is a message waiting.

sorry this took so long, i wanted to match!! [IMG attached]

She blinks.

Steven has gone all out for this. He’s wearing a formal dress she hasn’t seen before, the same blue of her tie; an A-line that allows her to see the broadness of his chest, with off-the-shoulder sleeves that proudly display the freckles of his shoulders, and a pleated skirt that begins at his waist. His shoes are the same color, heeled, open-toed, and he’s even done his nails.

His makeup is more intricate than hers. Blush, foundation, eyeliner, mascara, an iridescent violet eyeshadow and vibrant lipstick.

He’s sent multiple pictures. One is of him doing a kissy face, eyes lidded; the next is him laughing, blurred from moving the camera, what might have been a shot he hadn’t done on purpose; and the next is of him doing a peace sign.

Connie’s face burns. She’s glad her mom and dad take the front seats, so that she can have this little moment all to herself.

I love it! She hesitates over the send button. He sent her all those emojis, and she can’t even say more than three words?

You look great! Oh, but he looks more than great, doesn’t he? 

Can I come over? Now that was honest, but way too suggestive!

She deletes it again and then realizes they’re almost home. She has to send something, she’s been thinking way too hard about it!

You’re the most beautiful, most handsome man in the whole world, and I wish I was with you.

She sends it before she can think twice about it. Steven responds immediately with many more emojis.

-

Connie can’t get the way he looked out of her head. In school, she doodles the dress in the margins of her notes. At tennis practice, she imagines trying to wear those heels and run at the same time. In orchestra, she pretends Steven is watching, that he came to her concert in that outfit.

She draws him, of course. For hours in her room, she flips through the pictures and draws, and draws, and draws. She draws him in the dress in different poses, in different settings, with different people.

… Mostly with her.

Her outfit’s different, though. It’s not the same, boring orchestra one she had to wear for the concert. She Googles different outfits and finds some fantastic, colorful tuxes, and of course pretends she would ever be able to wear them.

She’s in the middle of coloring a self-indulgent piece in which the two of them are dancing in these outfits (and this is one she would never, ever show to anyone), when she gets a text from Amethyst.

i got the pic. but uh… kinda havin some issues [IMG attached]

Connie blinks.

It’s a picture of Steven, though not the one Connie asked for. He’s closer to the camera, a rage in his eyes as he moves toward the person taking it, mouth open as if speaking.

Oh, no. Is he mad at Amethyst for sneaking pictures of him? Quickly, Connie tries to call her, but it only rings twice before going to voicemail.

Oh, no.

She calls Steven instead. He hangs up on her, too, but shoots her a short text: can’t talk.

URGENT, she replies in all caps and without punctuation. He does not reply.

She grabs her sketchbook, rushes downstairs. It’s late but not so late that she’ll be in trouble. She runs past Dad at the kitchen island, sipping on coffee before he goes in. “Sorry, I’ll be back before Mom!” she promises, slipping her shoes on.

“Where you going, honey?”

“To Steven’s!”

And when she opens the door, there, waiting for her, is a pink-hued lion.

-

When she throws open the door to the beach house, Steven is still yelling: “—you know I don’t like it when you take my picture—”

“Why?!” Amethyst yells. “Just because it’s me?!”

“No, it’s because I don’t want y’all snapping pictures of me for a scrapbook like I’m a baby—”

“AHEM.”

Connie’s clearing of her throat cuts through it, startling them both. They spin back around to face her, and while Amethyst’s glance goes askew, almost ashamed, Steven sees in her an immediate ally.

“Ugh, Connie, this isn’t a great time!” His voice is high, angry, but not at her; clearly, he thinks she’ll be on his side. “You won’t believe this, but Amethyst’s been trying to snap photos of me all week when she thinks I haven’t been looking, without even asking me or anything, and I’m in the middle of confronting her about it because if she thinks this is funny—”

“She doesn’t!”

“—just because that concealer isn’t working on the dark circles under my eyes, then she’s got another thing—” He cuts himself off, and Connie feels her nerves spike as he turns to her again, looking almost like a startled animal. “—uh… what are you talking about, Connie?”

“I asked her to do it.” Connie’s voice is one of defeat. Shame makes the room feel so much hotter than it is, and she wishes she could hide. She makes do by pressing her face into both of her hands and speaking against her palms. “I’m sorry. I just… I needed to get a picture of you and I didn’t want you to know, and that was probably really weird and creepy of me, and I’m sorry.”

The silence is suffocating. Steven whispers something to Amethyst, and Connie can’t hear the response. He must think she’s so creepy, that she’s been manipulating him somehow, and that she’s a horrible, untrustworthy person—

A moment later, Steven is right by her side. “Hey.” His voice is soft, and he pries a hand from her face to enfold in both of his. It should be comforting, but for a moment, she feels even worse; like she’s tricked him into offering her this kindness. “Um… So, why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I thought you’d say no.” That’s not quite it. “I… I thought you’d ask why.”

“Well, now I kinda really wanna know.”

“I…” And here it is, the big moment. The confession. She looks down, unable to meet his gaze as her free hand fists at her side. “I’ve been drawing you and I needed a reference.”

There’s another beat of silence. Then two. And then Steven bursts into laughter, loud and relieved and maybe even playful. It still is humiliating to hear, but at the same time, she’s so, so glad he isn’t angry.

“You totally could’ve asked! I would’ve sent one to you, because that’s like… really, really nice of you to draw me.”

“No, it’s not!” And as she looks back at him, she can see just how much he doesn’t see this. She doesn’t tug her hand free because, selfishly, she hopes he never lets go. “I haven’t been doing it because I’m planning to paint you a portrait or anything, I’ve been solely using you for practice and it’s probably a really selfish thing of me, I-I even used the selfies you sent me that one night, and I’ve kind of lost all control over that, because you were so gorgeous in that dress and I…”

“Wait.” He cuts her off, and she bites her tongue. “Can I, like… see the drawings you’ve done? Or a few of them? I know you don’t like it when I ask, but there’s got to be at least one or two you’re proud of, right?”

“You… want to see them?”

“I want to see everything you’ve ever drawn!” His voice is so sincere and enthusiastic that her heart soars, forgetting immediately every single thing she said that could have soured their relationship. “But only if you’re cool with it! You’re such an amazing artist, Connie.”

“I don’t know if that’s true.”

“Don’t start with me. I can go on and on.”

She smiles. She fidgets with a strand of her hair, and though it’s juvenile, she plays witness to the way such a small thing makes Steven’s face light up in adoration.

“Hey.” The word cuts through the moment, startling the both of them, and they look over at Amethyst leaning against the fridge with a raised eyebrow. “So now that like, the truth is out there and all that, I think I’m owed something.”

Connie opens her mouth at the same moment Steven groans, cutting her off. “I… yeah. I’m sorry, Amethyst. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I’m sorry for just… assuming stuff.”

Amethyst’s gaze then turns to Connie.

“Uh… Thank you, Amethyst.” Connie sighs. “For doing all of this for us.” 

Amethyst laughs. It startles Connie a little, but Amethyst just shakes her head, a knowing grin on her face. “I can think of, maybe, a way for you two to express just how sorry and grateful you are…”

Steven blurts out a “huh?” while Connie giggles, reaching for the phone in her pocket. 

“On it.”

[zukofenty]

off the grid

➜ Summary: The one where Katara is a spoiled heiress who manages to crash land on a (cute) soldier of one of the most dangerous nations in the world. 

“Get your face out of my vagina!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs. 

“Here’s a thought, get your vagina out of my face first!”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, CEO!Katara, Soldier!Zuko, Crash Landing on You!AU 

➜ Words: 10.3k

AO3 @zutaramonth

“Get your face out of my vagina!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs.

  “Here’s a thought, get your vagina out of my face first!” Zuko yelps, words gargling. He currently was being suffocated by the crotch at his neck. After Katara’s many screams, and a swift kick to his face, they both scrambled off each other, laying on the ground for a quick moment of relief. Her body is aching after throwing herself from the tree she was stuck in. 

  After realization set in that he was a soldier who was just nearly crushed to death by a cooch, and she was a woman who somehow crossed impenetrable borders, they swiftly were both upright. Katara in a fighting stance, and Zuko’s gun automatically pointed at the girl’s face. Her eyes nervously darted around, looking for any escape route in the expanse of wilderness and trees and furry animals she sure were foaming at the mouth, looking for a bite of gorgeous heiress who smelled of Chanel No. 5. 

  “I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me!” Katara screeches, taking off as fast as her Yeezys could take her. 

  “Um, yeah I can !” He insists, shooting into her general direction. He wasn’t trying to kill her persay. Maybe maim. (It just would’ve been a lot easier if she died). 

  “Fuck!” he screams, once the girl was out of sight. 

  Last week, Katara was cyberbullying Debby Ryan from the comfort of her penthouse. One of her larger concerns of the week was debating buying the rights to all of her Disney Channel movies, just because she felt like it. Then, she could post clips of her disturbing, Radio Rebel smile every day on Instagram without copyright claims and she could blissfully ignore Debby Ryan DMing her a defamation lawsuit. 

  She had money money . Like being able to turn on the AC during the summer type of wealthy. The type of rich that could sing John Lennon’s Imagine during any crisis and say that’s enough activism for today . After all, she was an heiress of one of the richest families in the Water Tribes—a nation at the forefront of nearly every cultural conversation. In the past, every other nation out there doubted their abilities based on size alone, underestimating the tribes’ growing force. Once a nation surviving on simply hope to prosper post 100 Years War, they were now a cultural powerhouse you couldn’t ignore if you tried. From their dramas, skincare routines, and exquisite cuisine (two-headed fish soup and all), the nation was suddenly the talk of the entire world. They thrived under people’s ignorant assumptions. Blossomed despite people’s mistreatment of them in the media. Soon enough, those who questioned their authority were begging for alliances. 

  Except for the Fire Nation. A nation stuck so determinedly in the past. Notorious for their inability to move on from the world of centuries ago. The world where the Fire Nation was a dominating force. While every nation competed to innovate, the Fire Nation seemingly refused to accept reality. Their borders were violently closed off. Their trade was limited to working with the Earth Nation every once in a blue moon. Refugees who manage to escape tell stories of a cruel life seemingly stuck in the stone ages. Their leader, Azulon, threatens to bomb somewhere, something, someone every other week, and every nation’s relationship with them has remained precariously in the air since then. 

  “What the actual fuck !” She screeches. “I thought this was one of those national parks joggers find bodies in, not the fucking Fire Nation !” 

  Dead or alive, people weren’t allowed to make it out of the Fire Nation. 

  Katara was a stubborn CEO. The kind to only accept things by her way, by her standards. Coming from money didn’t mean shit when you didn’t have the raw hunger she had. She wasn’t like many of her peers. She wasn’t content with just sitting back and signing a few papers once in a while so she could make it to her SoulCycle class. But, she’d like to think that’s what made her so successful for the last decade. Katara was insistent on testing her clothing company’s new batch of athletic clothing. She scaled a mountain range in the sweat resistant hoodie. She swam in Olympic sized pools in their innovative, competition ready swimsuit and swim cap matching set. Of course, it made sense to test their new paragliding uniform. At the time. 

  “ Don’t move. This field is full of landmines,” Zuko warns, putting out his hand to stop the shaking girl. He sees it in her eyes, the way she’s about to run after he’s managed to catch up to her, and unknowingly blow this entire shit up. “They’re grey and round, or shaped like a box that—” 

  “Like the one you’re stepping on, right now?” Katara smirks, hands coming to her hips to taunt him.

  He freezes, hands coming out to balance himself at the edge of the stream she’s managed to leap across. 

  “Again, I am a bad bitch. These won’t kill me. You won’t kill me.” She snatches his walkie talkie from his jacket’s pocket, and thinks about just taking it and letting the guy who almost fucking shot her suffer. She decides against it (she didn’t want to get on God’s, or Rihanna’s, bad side today) and sets it down on the ground in front of him. He’s left to watch her expertly leap around a few stray explosives. 

  “If ‘bad bitch’ means missing a few limbs, sure. Go ahead ,” Zuko baits. She happily gives him the bird, before running as fast as she could in her Yeezy Boost 350s. Running even when she hears gunshots whizzing past her. Running even when she sees a sign, warning about a field of landmines. 

  She runs until her vision becomes blurry, and all she can hear are little children chanting a song about the Fire Nation’s greatness. She runs, even when her body feels like lead, and her eyes are a hair’s breadth away from shutting. 

  //

  He doesn’t know why he helps her. Why he wants her to get out of here alive. Why he scoops her up once soldiers began flooding the village she stumbled upon. They were making sure everyone was doing their part in singing the national anthem before the enforced curfew. She should’ve been shot to death by now by his men, or at least mauled by a wild lion vulture. 

  He just doesn’t understand it. Their forces were meant to kill , trained to shoot anything at the border on sight. He doesn’t understand how this five foot nothing girl had outrun men who have trained in the military for nearly their whole lives. His army was sloppy that day. Most of them were still drunk off of whatever cactus juice and homemade wine combination the ladies at the local village had offered to them. Then again, it wasn’t every day someone decided to paraglide during the biggest storm of the decade. It wasn’t every day someone managed to cross into the Fire Nation, when no one wanted to be there for decades . 

  He doesn’t understand why he pulled her close to his body at the sight of the military’s trucks, and runs them into his house at the edge of the hill. He doesn’t understand why he spent the last three hours painstakingly cooking up noodles from scratch for her. She takes a quick nap on an old sleeping mat he found while he works diligently. His stomach protests the fragrant aroma. He hasn’t eaten a homemade meal in months. 

  “People literally steal and sell my pubic hairs on eBay. The average price is one grand for a single strand. I deserve better,” Katara says. He thinks it’s completely in jest. She cackles when he glares at her. The smile she sends him tries to relay that she's grateful, but he’s hardly swayed by her charms. Instead, he’s scoffing at the efforts.

  A first for her. 

  She’s used to getting her way, as an expert at manipulation. When you’ve spent your whole life ruthlessly competing to run one of the largest corporations in the world, you couldn’t afford to be sweet or gentle or genuine. You learned to work people, bend them to your will until they snap. Then, you move on. Find someone else, do the old song and dance again. 

  Before she could even lift a chopstick, Zuko quickly grabs the bowl from her grasp, a pout forming on his lips. While he was always taught to school his features, he always knew he was no good at it. 

  “I will continue to do what I’ve been doing for the last two hours, and just ignore everything you’ve been saying,” he mutters, sipping at the broth to her dismay. The second she walked in, she called his house “a hut with a dick in it.” When he instructed her to take a shit in the outhouse, she didn't speak to him for the next hour. He thinks he saw her tear up when he mentioned there was no Internet. He swears he was ten seconds away from busting a vein. 

  “ Ugh . Room temperature water?” Zuko guffaws once her nose crinkles up in disgust.

  He blows a stray strand of his hair away from his face. “There are no ice cubes.” She hates how everything he says is so matter of fact. 

  “Get some, then.” she says, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I don’t drink ice cube-less water.”

  He just laughs. “Right, when we get any sort of electricity first, I’ll make it my number one priority to get a fridge that dispenses ice cubes engraved with your perfectly detailed portrait on them, too.” 

  Katara shoves at him, and he just stares at the spot on his chest she touched. “For future reference, I am vegan. Well, vegan adjacent. But still. The point is I am a delicate flower with an even more delicate diet. A delicate flower that’s used to caviar and organic shit and the rich people gluten-free bread you get from Trader Joe’s. So I’ll excuse it this time, but the next time  you make something please remember.” She follows up the command with a sweet smile, as though it made up for her demands.  

  The memory of her dodging bullets with a branch in her hair easily comes up in his mind. “Nothing about you is delicate.” Zuko barely budges when she tries reaching for the bowl again. 

  Katara gasps. “Even my bowel movements are delicate!” 

  He just snorts. 

  She’s annoying, he decides. All brattiness considered. Even with her tiny frame drowning in her dirty paragliding uniform, and a pout that has him wanting to laugh. The way she moves is dainty, with the self-assurance only those who grew up in comfort have. But, something about her eyes reveal something crueler, something so much more vicious underneath the soft exterior. 

  He was thoroughly out of options. While he has her holed up in his house until they decide an escape route, he feels his stomach churning at the thought of the Fire Nation’s regular surprise house inspections. Turning her over to the government meant a quick and easy execution for him and his men without question, and the potential to cause even more political strain with the rest of the world. Even if they do hand her to the government, there’s no telling what they would do to her. 

  He tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes, rubbing at them as thought it could end the nightmare he found himself trapped in.  

  For the last few years, Zuko’s life was a monotonous routine.  

  “Type 63 Rifle, Soviet SKS carbine,” Zuko breathes, ears perking up at the sound of the weapon. His hand comes out to halt the hordes of men. “One of us. Retreat,” he barked, arms  motioning for his battalion to return to their hidden positions among the dwindling flora and fauna. Months in his uniform without rest, months spent guarding the border to ensure no one left. 

  He doesn’t remember much about his life before this. He tries to forget, because it made him too sad. It made him want to do something reckless, to break something, to even cry , because he’s long forgotten anything but getting up, getting into uniform, getting into routine. 

  It was his duty, as the only son of the Fire Nation’s notorious military director. 

  He was trained to be a war wielding machine. To show no mercy. Men in the Fire Nation weren’t meant to be weak . They weren’t allowed to be soft. 

  His mother tried to get away from all of it. She tried as hard as she could to tell her children there was a life you could feel beat with all of your heart, as long as cruelty didn’t find it first. She knew Zuko wasn’t meant for this life. 

  Zuko knew, too. 

  He was never good at anything, never the best one growing up. While he excelled at delivering blows, or wielding his swords, he was always told his mind was a pathetic thing. Too brash, too naive. Azula was always the better one at that. At violence. She was their father’s right hand, her thoughts filled to the brim with genius strategy. Always one step ahead of everyone else, even as a toddler. 

  Zuko was content to be in the background, to be nothing more than a decoration when the family portrait needed to be taken. He wants to be selfish, to blame Azula for pressing pause on his life. The day she was assassinated was the day his dreams of forgetting the Fire Nation all but shriveled up. After all, tradition mandated the military director had a blood successor. 

  //

  “I am not going to put back on my dirty underwear after I shower! I am not a Bhad Bhabie type of bitch,” Katara indignantly spits out, crossing her arms over her chest. 

  Zuko rolls his eyes. Everything she says is confusing . 

  “Don’t act up while I’m gone,” Zuko begs. 

  “Like the City Girls?” 

  She feels her blood boil at his silence. 

  “Please tell me you’re lying. Please tell me you’ve heard of ‘Act Up.’ Please. Don’t let me down now.” 

  “I have no—” 

  “Seriously, where were you all summer? ‘Act up, you can get snatched up?’ Nothing? Nothing rings a fucking bell?” He can’t help but sweat.

  Even when he looked up whatever she says on his work computer (the only time people in the Fire Nation were allowed to use the Internet) he still can’t wrap his head around what exactly a Bhad Bhabie was.  

  “Then don’t wear underwear. I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

  She holds the landline phone close to her mouth, as if to make the message clearer. “Where will the pussy juices go then!” 

  Zuko hangs up on her, only to have her call him precisely 12 minutes later. 

  “My right nipple is chafing. What about my nipple eczema!” She protests. She feels her face shriveling up. Without her Yves Saint Laurent Firming Serum, she feels like a piece of her identity was missing. He had diligently informed her to use his sole bar of soap for all purposes before he left for work, and she nearly fainted on the spot. 

  “Tell it to go away, I guess?” Zuko suggests, trying his hardest to sound helpful. He tried leaving detailed notes on how to take a hot bath by pouring boiling water in his basin, and clipping the plastic shower curtain to the ceiling, trapping the heat in. He prays she hasn’t burned down his house, or someone hasn’t seen her through the gate.

  “I can’t!” Katara seethes. 

  Zuko rubs at his temples. “This was meant for only emergencies. Goodbye !” Zuko slams the phone, returning to his paperwork. He feels a hot blush spreading across his cheeks, and tries to bring his hand up to his face to alleviate the warm feeling.

  //

  She doesn’t know why he’s so nice to her. 

  When she’s all but threatened him and blackmailed his entire crew to keep their silence and help her escape.

  She simply laughs, the sound foreign to even her own ears. Her empty stomach painfully clenched in protest at the sudden sensation. It had to be some sort of sick joke. A sick fucking joke probably crafted up by Pakku! Or some of those man-children from the Northern Tribes who think they know a thing or two because they took a Marketing 101 crash course on Khan Academy! 

  She needed to get back for the big shareholders meeting. They were going to announce the new CEO of Moon Tech, the largest corporation in the Water Tribes. It was everything she had been working for her entire life. She couldn’t afford to miss it, lest it show any weakness whatsoever. As the most viable successor, she was sure all eyes were watching her every move. Yet, somehow, she managed to end up on the set of a period piece gone wrong. A miserable, yet probably Academy Award winning, period piece that smelled like moose knuckle pussy pickle. 

  She looked to the closed door, the flimsy thing separating the minute living room from his even smaller bedroom. She felt guilty for misjudging him upon their first meeting. 

  She thinks she feels more guilty for breaking his favorite vase. 

  “C’mon! That was my favorite ficus,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head she broke the vase on. He avoids her gaze because she’s clad in one of his old dress shirts and nothing else, the thing coming to fall at her knees. If he blushes any harder, he thinks she might notice. Her hair is wrapped up in a messy updo and her face is scrubbed clean. The faintest tint of pink dusts across her cheeks. 

  “Sorry,” she whispers, hand coming to rub at the spot. She was nervous hearing someone wiggle the doorknob when he hadn’t come back well into the night. Why he had three locks on his door and used exactly none of them, she wasn’t quite sure. She thought she was being helpful by locking his doors. Until it was becoming apparent he didn’t care enough to carry his keys with him, and had an additional unlocked back door he was just attacked at. 

  He swats her away swiftly, body mechanically programmed to attack for coming so close to him. He’s body slammed bigger men for breathing through their mouths. But something stops him abruptly, and he stills when she comes closer, roughly grabbing at his head between her two hands, and bringing it to her eye level. “A slight bump will form, but it’ll go away faster if you soak some rice and press here,” she precisely finds the swelling area. He winces when he feels the pressure. 

  Her eyes are impossibly wide while she watches him, and he can’t help but shrink at her careful stare. This was the quietest she’s been since she crash landed. He feels unsettled. “I—I got you some stuff.” He places the bag gently in front of her, a now familiar flush coming to pepper his cheeks. “I’m going to go to bed now,” he lies, retreating to his room while still rubbing at his head.

  “Thanks,” her voice is barely a whisper, and stops him in his tracks. He turns to her, and her smile is so genuine. Her eyes are swelling with joy and it makes his heart ache. It seemed easier to talk to her that night than in the day. There wasn’t an impossible front to break open to see how she was feeling, the moonlight peeking through the cracks in the wall seemed to make her eyes wider, smile brighter even. Her guard is down and it makes emotions easier to decipher. 

  She thinks she can’t feel her face when she opens the bag. “I’m such a bitch,” she babbles to herself as she opens the boxes of shampoo, conditioner, and even signature Water Tribe moisturizers. Everything she complained about he managed to remember to a T. He even got her some traditional Fire Nation women’s outfits, even when she was only staying for the next couple of days. The tears pricking at her eyes feel foreign. She could afford private jets to fly to Beverly Hills and start a fist fight with Kim Kardashian just because she hit Kourtney in season 18. A couple dollars worth of smuggled products shouldn’t make her a weepy mess.  Somehow though, she feels herself unable to dim the smile plastered across her face. 

  Zuko wants to jump for joy. Though, he resists the urge when getting up too fast makes his head bump feel like it has a second heartbeat. He spent the better part of his evening at the open air marketplace a few blocks from the village. It was worth enduring the questioning glances from the shop vendors. Even when he felt like crawling in a hole and dying as he hastily gestured he wanted to purchase women’s underwear, it was all worth it when he’s lulled to sleep to the sound of Katara’s giggles. 

  //

  “I think he just smiled.” Mako whisper-screams. Nearly all the jaws in the mess hall drop open. 

  “You’re lying ,” a voice squeaks out. The dozens of heads seem to collectively turn towards their captain. Their stomachs churned at seeing living proof of the small smirk on his face. He’s distracted. Staring off into the distance, he’s just picking at the meager helpings of his lunch on his plate. 

  For all intents and purposes, Zuko was boring . He was a stick in the mud, the kind of guy you saw laugh once or twice a year for obligatory purposes, just to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t a robot assigned by the government to spy on soldiers. 

  He was a captain who delivered orders, and nothing more. A strict, by the book kind of guy. The team knew little to nothing about him. They weren’t even sure he used the bathroom like a normal human being (half of them were betting money on the robot theory). They just weren’t close like that. They weren’t the type of team to be able to joke around with their captain, share their stories, bleed their heart out on the military field. They knew the scar on his face meant he had pissed off some higher ranking officials who still possessed the power to firebend, a sacred art limited to the few. It meant there was more to the story than just a bumbling captain of a lower ranked crew. The most they got out of him was once in a while he would startle a young kid, who was just trying to get his mandated service over with. He’d clap them on the shoulder and would murmur a low “Good job.” (His definition of keeping up team morale). 

  He was efficient at his job, and good at keeping his men safe, rarely raising his voice to anyone except maybe himself. More than what they could say for other captains. He was hard on his men, but harder on himself. It was rare to see him doing anything but stress . 

  Smiling ? Simply out of the question. 

  He couldn’t help it! It was an automatic reaction to the morning he had. 

  “Thank you, for everything,” Katara says quietly, placing the tray of food on his night stand. She knew he had to get to the military base in the wee hours of the morning, and also knew she wasn’t going to wake up in time without her vibrating mattress alarm clock. So she pulls an all nighter, and tries to figure out how to use the tools and contraptions at her disposal. She didn’t mean to startle him, she swears. She has to stifle a laugh when he wakes up with a start. Eyes slowly peeling open, the eye crust obstructing his view. His hair is facing every which way. He looks younger, somehow. The messy hair, the wrinkled shirt, and drool he makes a quick job of wiping away. 

  “What’s this?” He peers up at her curiously, placing the tray in his lap. 

  “My labor of love.” She insists, sitting even closer to him on his bed. She thinks she likes it when he squirms under her gaze. For all the military get up with metallic shoulders, and the endless medals pinned to his uniforms, he was just a boy under it all. “I know, I haven’t been the most...easy guest to have.” She ignores his snort. “After all of this over, after the Fire Nation opens up its borders again, I promise you. I will pay you ten times what this hut with a dick is worth. Because…” she breathes in, looking unsure of herself. “I’ll never forget your kindness.” 

  “T—Thank you,” he stutters. He thinks they’re empty promises, but doesn’t try to question them too hard. It shouldn’t be possible for his heart to pulse as fast as it does, but it seems to be mesmerized by how much wider her smile was able to get. The noodles are misshapen, probably because of her inexperience with the old-fashioned machine. The broth is salty and makes Zuko’s throat beg for a glass of water. And yet, he slurps up the entire dish without complaint. 

  Anything to see her eyes light up. 

  //

  “The first boob I ever saw was in Titanic . Haven’t seen one since. Waiting for Titanic 2 to come out.” Mako says proudly, puffing out his chest. He hoped his extensive knowledge of non-Fire Nation films would entertain Katara. Zuko’s few trusted men (mainly the ones who were responsible for letting her escape in the first place) were instructed to keep her safe while he sorted out the plans for her escape. Iroh was able to set up a clandestine arrangement with a ship leaving the Fire Nation docks for their semi annual pickup of Earth Nation goods. They were hoping she could sneak through to the Earth Nation, and explain her situation with customs there. 

  “Buddy, I got some news for you.” Katara smirks, and the boys grow nervous. She was pretty. The type of pretty that made people stare, wondering if it was possible for someone’s eyes to twinkle in the sunlight. She looked like one of those celebrities in the movies he loved. Talked like one, too. In the Fire Nation, she was the type of pretty where guys would be bartering an entire village just to get a chance to look at her. Though, just from talking with her, she seemed like the type of girl who would hide in her house after gaining said village, just to spite them. 

  Mako was curious about the Water Nation. Their schools taught them that Azulon was an elite magical creature that somehow never needed to take a shit, and people in the other nations defecated three times the amount of Fire Nation folk. He always knew something was up. Everyone was constantly smuggling goods from all the other nations, especially from the Water Nation. There were automatic rice cookers that played a song when it finished making perfect rice, and little boxes that could play music when you press it. Mako always knew there was so much more out there than people in the Fire Nation could ever know.  

  She tells them stories of her life in the Water Tribes as they wait for Zuko, and she pointedly ignores the scoffs and disbelief. “There are toilets that shoot out water into your ass crack to clean it?” 

  “You can adjust the settings and everything!” She proclaims, pride filling every one of her words. “Warm, cool, even inconsistent spurts if you’re into that shit.” 

  They all make a noise of amazement. “That’s incredible .” She talks about sky rises, and business meetings with rich people, and showers that turn on with a drop of a hat. 

  “What’s a Rihanna again? Is that your God?” 

  “Yes.” Katara answers, with no hesitation. “See, she is the baddest in the land—” 

  “Wait!” Bolin abruptly stops her. “I thought that was your God...Megan Thee Stallion?” 

  “She’s the thiccest of them all.” Katara punctuated with a click of her tongue. “I thought we went over this!” 

  “Sorry,” they grunt, looking especially sheepish. 

  “What does she preach?” Kai inquires, eyes growing wide with delight. 

  Katara taps her lip, eyes coming up to the ceiling trying to concentrate. “She’s a goddess who empowers women! She tries to get everyone to build their knee strength. I think one of her sayings is ‘I need a Mr. Clean, make that pussy beam,’” Katara . 

  Zuko watches on, leaning on the door frame. He wants to hate the fact that he’ll miss her. 

  //

 Everything was supposed to be easy at this point. 

  “Don’t forget about me.” She holds onto his arm as they sit against the edge of the fishing vessel, the waves impatiently slapping against them. He was supposed to bid her farewell at the dock, but something in him wanted to guarantee she was able to get on the second boat to the Earth Nation. 

  He’s still clad in one of his more formal uniforms. He still feels the chill of the night scraping through the fabric of his double breasted blazer. 

  Katara openly welcomes the cold, after nearly sweltering to death every second she’s been in the Fire Nation. 

  He lets his smile reach his eyes. “How could I forget a girl who nearly crushed me to death with her crotch.” 

  Her guffaw has the captain, Jeong Jeong, even startled. “Right.” She looks off into the distance, and can’t remember a time when she’s ever been surrounded by this much water. “My name’s Katara, by the way.” 

  Zuko feels a pang in his chest. “Zuko.” 

  “Nice to meet you, Zuko,” she whispers, holding her hand out to shake his. It feels warm when he grabs at the dainty thing. 

  “I hope we meet again. Maybe, in another life, Katara.” 

  “Really?” For a moment, he hears a twinge of sadness in her voice. It could be his mind or his heart making it up, but he swears he hears it.

  “Really.” 

  Everything was going according to plan. Everything was supposed to go smoothly. 

  Until they’re both panic-sweating underneath the ship in its cargo hold, trying to come up with a plan to fend off the Coast Guard officers stopping all ships sailing past curfew. 

  “Do something! Doesn’t the military tell you to do something in this case? Or are you guys just trained in the art of being ugly and having anger issues?” 

  Zuko wracks his brain. “Why don’t you help me?” 

  “What happens if I don’t?” Katara angrily mutters. 

  “You’ll deal with the consequences,” Zuko shrugs, too entirely calm. He was a natural in intense situations, but even he could feel his hands shaking. 

  “That’s just diet ‘ I hope this bitch dies !’”

  “Oops,” Zuko sneers. 

  Katara huffs. “The fact that men can breathe just doesn’t sit right with my soul.” Katara wants to strangle him. 

  A lightbulb seemingly goes off in his head. Something Mako said about the non-Fire Nation  films and stories was always a fool proof “Get out of jail” card. 

  “Kiss me,” he says without any uncertainty. 

  “Are you huffing cactus juice, bitch?” 

  “Just do it!” Zuko practically screams when he hears the door opening. She presses her lips to his chapped ones, and his hands naturally come to her waist. He’s lost in the feeling of her plush lips, how incredibly soft her body was that he ignores the screams of Coast Guard officers. 

  “What the fuck was that!” They question Jeong Jeong, who simply shrugs. The officers promptly drop the cargo door in shock. 

  She slaps his face, his cheek already reddening in mere moments. 

  “What was that for?” Zuko grumbles, stroking his face. 

  “You’re a freak!” 

  He narrows his eyes. “I prefer a ‘you’re welcome,’ but that doesn’t seem to be in your vocabulary.” He felt like his entire body was tingling, but Katara could only focus on the fact he was swiping at his lips with the back of his hand. 

  “Hey! You should be thanking Rihanna you got a chance to kiss me! If you weren’t so colonized you would realize I am one of the most beautiful women in the world!” Katara petulantly reminds.

  “I think it’s because you got diarrhea all over my one of my favorite t-shirts that I am doubting that claim.” 

  Katara sulks, confident form shrinking. “I forgot to boil the water one time, sue me.” 

  He can’t stop his laugh from taking over his whole body. He’s about to help her up when he hears, “Open it up again!” 

  This time, Katara fully pushes him down among the boxes of cargo, straddling his lap, and violently mashes her lips to his. 

  “Get the fuck up here!” Someone screams. Katara lets up on the kiss so Zuko could peer up at the officers. He feels his ears overheating.

  “She’s my fiancé.” He hastily explains, once they were on deck. In between their masks, they stare down at Katara, who bites on her tongue, and puts up an act of a bashful bride-to-be. She holds onto his arm with a vice grip, ducking her head behind his broad shoulders. 

  “They were going on a romantic sight seeing trip,” Jeong Jeong provides, sweat beating down his back. 

  Katara nods enthusiastically. “We just couldn’t wait for the wedding to have a little fun .” She grins intenerally at their coughs of discomfort and Zuko’s bewildered gaze. 

  They check Zuko’s identification card, before nodding in understanding. 

  “Fine,” one officer bites out. He stares at Katara for a beat too long as though he’s reading her thoughts. It makes her uneasy. “Turn it back, and don’t come out past curfew anymore. They’ve implemented new standards for ships.” Jeong Jeong nods in understanding, and jumps to the helm in no time. But, Zuko could sense the panic vibrating off of Katara. 

  She turns to see the second ship waiting in the distance, her ticket to freedom a few feet away. 

  “We’re not done with date night!” She insists, coming out to try to stop the officer. Zuko holds her back, eyes pleading with her. “But—I—there has to be some other way.” She’s shaking like a leaf, even when Zuko throws his blazer over her bare shoulders. 

  //

  “I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck feeding him heartburn medication like they are tic tacs,” Katara says to no one. She’s pacing nervously around the living room, and Zuko’s trying his best to come up with something to comfort her. His head is in his hands, and he’s since loosened his top knot to let his hair fall. 

  “Katara, I am only two years older than you,” he gently reminds. 

  “...And then I heard dentures always smell no matter how hard you clean them.” 

  “Katara I swear—,” 

  She gasps. “Oh my god, we have to start thinking of retirement homes.”  

  Things were supposed to be easy. 

  A spontaneous house check was something the village’s residents were accustomed to. They gathered outside their homes as soldiers began rifling through their things. Parents simply stood about, discussing the new books they had to buy for their kids for the upcoming semester. 

  Nothing was entirely out of the blue. Yet, the elusive military captain just had to show up to the front of his house, hand in hand with a blue-eyed girl. 

  A gun was promptly pointed in her face. “Oh shit. Bitch, not this again.” 

  “This house was registered for one resident.” General Zhao’s lip curls. “State your name and occupation.” 

  General Zhao had overheard a certain military director’s son was busted trying to get some punani on the seven seas. 

  It’s not that he hated Zuko, per say. Their relationship was more of a “ regularly abusing Zuko’s privacy to fulfill a personal agenda because of the bloodthirsty desire for power ” type of thing. Normal things. Maybe , it was influenced by the fact he got wind of Zuko pressuring his higher ups to further investigate his sister’s assasination. He wasn’t entirely sure. 

  “Look here, I have information that could lead to the arrest of Nicki Minaj. So why don’t you, I don’t know. Let me go ! I promise I’ll tell you everything I know about Ms. Nincki,” she lowly breathes, a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows only making the soldiers around her even more heated. 

  “Shut the fuck up!” A soldier screams behind her, poking her head with the gun. Katara couldn’t help the whimper that passed her lips. For the first time in her life, she thinks she feels genuine fear. 

  Zuko pushes past the guards holding him back, throwing them to the ground. Without missing a beat, he takes her hand in his. “Get your fucking gun out of my fiancé’s face!” He roars. Gasps reverberate around the villagers. This was the loudest and longest they’ve ever heard Zuko speak. “She works for the government as part of Division 11,” he explains, letting his voice settle into its usual rasp. Everybody visibly recoils. 

  A highly secretive sector of the government virtually no one , not even General Zhao had access to. They were agents deployed in different nations, with the goal of collecting information about the culture. It would’ve explained Katara’s Water Tribe accent, and the lack of her identification papers. 

  General Zhao pushes past Zuko, staring him down and grumbling with his men following behind. 

  The women of the village instantly make way to collect around Katara. Noses turned up at her like she was shit on a brick. No, they couldn’t give a shit about her. They had rushed into their houses after the announcement, and came back to ply Zuko with trays of food. 

  “For our handsome Zuko finally getting hitched!” The fake smiles make Katara want to stab herself. She swiftly reaches for Zuko’s hand, much to his confusion, and lays her head on his shoulder. 

  “Baby, let’s go inside. I’m cold,” she feigns through her teeth. Her puppy dog eyes make him feel like he’s in high school. He numbly nods. 

  She thinks she hears someone’s grandma calling her a slut. 

  //

  “Pick your head up king, your hairline is receding,” Katara worries her lip at seeing his current state. She doesn’t think he’s slept all night, and he has papers and maps with highlighter marks and red circles all around him on his bed. 

  It’s been a few days since his big announcement to the village, and it feels better to be able to get outside. Breathe from the confines from Zuko’s dingy house. Even among the whispers and stares from people, the villagers weren’t all bad. The women sometimes drop by to invite her over to cook with them, and the kids bring her only the nicer rocks they’ve managed to dig through the dirt for. 

  “I just want to get you home.” He practically grunts. She’s holding a cup of tea for him, and he gulps it down as if it was Rihanna’s boob sweat. “I don’t want you to stay here for even a second longer.” 

  “Thanks!” Katara sends him a sardonic smile. 

  Fuck . He always knew how to put his foot in his mouth when he’s around her. “No, uh. Not like that. This place is a hell hole, and I just want you to get back. It’s not safe for you, for anyone here.” She pats his back gently when he starts choking on the tea, trying to get all his words out. He’s so sweet, the way he just quietly tries to draft out a plan while he thinks she’s asleep. She hears him curse whenever a pen snaps with the pressure he applies. With how many times he sighs through the night, she feels guilty. 

  She’s entirely too comfortable around Zuko, he decides. She lays in bed next to him and he hopes she doesn't notice the way he’s grown warm with her presence. He craves it too much these days. “You know what, the one thing I’ve learned through all of this is that the first thing I’m going to do when I come back is shutting down Chrissy Teigen’s Twitter.” 

  “Not visit your friends and family?” Zuko asks, amusement dancing across his features. 

  “That can come second,” Katara asserts. 

  Life wasn’t completely terrible. Sure, she cries the moment Zuko leaves the house because she’s sure she’s going to die in this shit fuck of place and never get to her money’s worth of her one year HelloFresh subscription. But she has complete faith in Zuko’s abilities. 

  “It’s like during The Amazing Race Season 17 when those two vegetarian doctors ate a goat’s head to win. I think their names were Kat and Nat.” 

  “The point?” Zuko tries his best to sound exasperated. 

  “The point is, I’ll learn how to adapt for the next week or so. I promise, it’s not all that terrible!” Zuko doesn’t trust her uneasy, twitching eyes, but nods all the same. 

  “Hold my hand, motherfucker!” She beams under the attention of the villagers, most of them scoffing when she does her daily send off routine. When Zuko leaves for work, she is insistent on performing their cute couple duties to piss off old people (her other favorite pastime). “Did you remember to bring your water bottle today, stupid bitch?” 

  “I think I’d like this more if you asked nicely,” he groused. He likes how small her hand fits in his, but he thinks he’ll boil shoelaces and eat them before he would admit it. 

  She’s made one friend, at least. Ty Lee, a girl whose parents are trying to marry her off by the next summer. The older women side eyed her just the same, thinking her big ole titties were too big of a distraction among the eligible men in the village. 

  “It came as a shock to us, we still think Zuko is a robot,” Ty Lee admits over a bowl of beef stew. Katara nearly chokes at the spice level. “It’s too bad you’re marrying a lower ranked officer. I know this guy who’s way up there! You could do so much better . I think his name’s Chan!” 

  “So, Zuko’s basically a nobody here?” 

  “Pretty much,” the girl states it like it’s a known fact. “He doesn’t do much, to be honest. But he’s all the old ladies’ favorites because he’s cute and moody . Fuck that, give me communication , you know what I mean?”

  Katara could already feel the cogs whirring to life in her brain. “Thanks for letting me know, Ty Lee!” Her chirpy tone has the girl smiling as well. Good, her acting skills haven’t gone rusty. “How come when Zuko makes beef stew, it’s never spicy?” She wipes her nose with a napkin Ty Lee had given her after noticing the impending waterfall of snot. 

  Ty Lee ponders it for a second. “Sorry, babe. This is the most mild recipe you can make in the Fire Nation. I didn’t realize you couldn't handle it. Maybe he’s just remixing a classic?” 

  Katara tries to hold back her smile. “Yeah, maybe.” 

  //

  “Babies are broke,” Katara glares at the child in her lap, who only curls in closer to her.  

  “Oh my god.” Zuko lets the little boy play with his hair when he wasn’t suffocating Katara’s neck with his other arm. 

  “They live in your head and your house rent free. And then they have the audacity to stare at you in their weak ass outfits,” she points out. They’re both squeezed together on a sofa barely holding itself together, and forced to watch over the birthday boy. 

  “Don’t be mad. It’s entirely your fault Chungha’s kid laughed so hard it barfed on you.” 

  Katara’s exhausted laugh makes Zuko forget his tiredness all the same. “Don’t call the baby an ‘it!’”

  Zuko lets the kid bite on his finger, and grabs him from Katara’s hands when he begins tugging on her dress straps. “I still can’t believe you taught Chungha’s daughter to ‘not be the bigger person, and punch a bitch!’ And Chungha still invited you to her son’s party.”

  “Talk shit, get hit. Basic stuff.”

  He had to admit, coming home and immediately being dragged to a baby’s birthday celebration was not how he saw his night going. Especially after hours of grueling paperwork. 

  “He’s two ,” Zuko lets out an annoyed huff.  

  “And what about it, bitch?” Katara growls. She has her hair in a complicated updo, complete with the Fire Nation hair ties he recently picked up for her. 

  He tries to hide the fact he enjoys this far too much. Domestic things. Things like coming home from work to banter with her. Cooking for Katara while she’s busy socializing with the older wives. He heard from Mako that Katara spends most of her day with the married women. Her plan was to try to move him up the ranks of the military ladder by getting to the lieutenant’s wives first. 

  When she’s home and finished washing up, she takes his dress shirts as though they were her’s and wears them to bed. After she’s passed out on the sleeping mat in the living room, he makes it a habit to carry her to the mattress in his room. 

  “My bad back likes the hard floor,” he would insist when she would protest. 

  He thinks he’s a goner when she even starts trying to make Fire Nation snacks for his lunches. He packs them himself, but somehow misses the minute containers that make their way into his pail. Even if the container somehow always breaks because she forgets to close it properly and he ends the day smelling like fish sauce, he likes it. 

  He knows he must be fucking crazy, pretending this was all real. Maybe he was delusional and reading too much into her actions. Maybe he was a fucking idiot. But for a moment, it was easy to pretend he’s a few months away from marrying a pretty girl. A pretty girl busy spending the night playing around with babies they could one day have together. 

  He shakes the thought from his head, physically moving his head to make it permeate even deeper. She was going to be back home, safe and sound soon. It was better not to get attached. 

  She makes it so fucking hard, though. Especially when she’s wiping away at the creases in his brow before bed. Or asking him through the closed bedroom door to tell her it’s going to be ok, to talk to her until she falls asleep because she likes the sound of his voice.

  //

  She’s a stone cold bitch. A bitch that could fight with her Swarovski crystal acrylics, and come out virtually unscathed. Someone needs to explain to her exactly why she was crying like a James Charles fake apology video for being a racist at the sight of Chungha’s kid bouncing about, flinging his boogers in her face.

  “Maybe if I pray to Azulon hard enough, you guys could have your own little bundle of joy soon!” Chungha exclaims, holding the baby as tight as she could.

  After all, when you almost lose a kid, every moment you’re blessed with their breath never feels like enough. You never want to spend another moment away from them. It’s a miracle his fever broke in time for his birthday. Their family couldn’t afford to go to the doctor, with hospitals being a four hour bike ride away. 

  “Yeah, sure.” Katara barely could hear her over Yoonjn’s gleeful squeals. 

  “I’ll tell Bomi to pray for you guys, too. After what Azulon did for her little Sana, you’ll be pregnant in no time!” 

  Katara just squeezes at the baby’s chubby cheek. 

  //

  “You’re going to kill yourself.” Katara flinches at Zuko’s voice piercing through the quiet night. He’s leaning up against the wall, and emerges from the shadows because he’s dramatic and needed the added effect. She doesn’t miss the way he limps while clutching his side. 

  “Shut up .” She throws her straw hat at the ground, and flings herself across the sleeping mat, face down. “I’ve had a long night.” 

  He wants to be angry with her. He wants to scream at her. He was livid . 

  “What if you got caught, huh? You could’ve been executed .” Zuko knew it wasn’t a coincidence. That the rumors of a spirit going around healing people in the village coincided with someone’s sudden appearance. He thinks the sight of Katara effortlessly waterbending is permanently etched into his memory. The way her face was blissed out, the element easily submitting to her every will. 

  Katara knows he’s just worried for her. She knows the occasional rustle of the branches was more than a breeze. But, all she sees is red. “Sounds rich, coming from you ! What’s your name again? Sorry, my bad. I didn’t know ‘The Blue Spirit’ was a silent vowel in the name ‘Zuko!’”

  He waits a beat, before turning to face her. She has his mask in hand, an angry glare screwing her features. 

  “How did you—who did—?” His brain was apparently as smooth as Howie Mandel’s head when he needed its help the most. At least he knows where his mask went. 

  “My mind is as strong as the Twitter men trying to get Doja Cat to show us her titties.” She rolls her eyes when she sees Zuko pondering. “You leave your Dao swords on display in the living room, and the mask is underneath your bed. I don’t know, let me ask the audience.” 

  “Oh.” 

  Katara flicks his forehead.

  “At least I’m not walking around with some face paint thinking I’m helping these people!” 

  She scoffs. “But I am! They’re too sick to afford medication. To even go to the hospital. If they make it, no one wants to help them! You’re telling me I have to just watch them die!” 

  Zuko sighs. “You’re giving them hope !” 

  “In this dumpster fire of a place, yeah! I fucking am! What’s wrong with that? Tell me!” She challenges. She comes up nose to nose with Zuko, eyes darting and impatiently waiting for an answer. 

  “What are these people going to do when you’re gone?” What am I going to do when you’re gone? “They think the Painted Lady is real !” 

  “Let them!” She huffs. “What about you, huh? Going around stealing from the rich to bring back to the villagers? You think you’re any better? You’re going to get killed!” 

  Zuko scoffs. “You’re missing the point. The difference between you and me? I’m perfectly fine with dying.” 

  Katara grabs his face in between her hands, anger vanishing. “Zuko, don’t say that.” 

  “Why the fuck not? Maybe I want to fucking die!” He shouts, ripping his head out of her grasp. “Maybe I’m hoping to get caught!”

  “...Why?” Katara croaks.  

  “ You don’t get it !” He screams. Time seemed to stop when tears fell from Zuko’s eyes. Even when he’s angry, he’s never been this loud with Katara before. He wants to take it all back, stop himself.

  She’s at a loss for words. “Zuko, I—”

  “This place is a fucking dead end.  No one’s going to save us. The Fire Nation doesn’t care about us. The Fire Nation could give less of a fuck. You can’t let people think there’s hope when it’s all a fucking lie !” He laughs, the bitter sound foreign to her. “You know, it’s normal to pray for an early death here. You pray that it’s painless. It’s easier to die than live every day trapped in this reality.” 

  He loses his grip on the countertop he was leaning on for support. Katara moves to catch him before he falls, and lays him as gently as possible on top of the mat. She makes quick work to heal the gash at his side. A result of following her during her rounds, and fighting off any robbers trying their luck in the night. 

  “I thought you were the Kris Jenner of the Southern Water Tribe?” He squeezes out, trying to get her to laugh. She’s touched he remembered her Kardashian-Jenner clan rants. (He’s been Team Stormi since day one.) Then again, he seems to remember every little detail about her. “A businesswoman, right? Didn’t know you were a master waterbender on top of all of that.” 

  She snorts, and wipes away her own tears before he could open his eyes again. “I was a paramedic. I wanted to run a clinic at one point.” Zuko winces at the intensity of the water cooling his wound. “Growing up, I hated the business world. It was all backstabbing and boring bitches. But sometimes, it’s easier.” She’s silent for a while, focused only on the healing process. 

  “I—I couldn’t save a lot of people,” her voice drops down to a barely audible whisper, and her brows furrow. 

  They’re shoulder to shoulder on the mat after she wraps up his cut. They’re staring up at the cracks of his ceiling. 

  “Do you ever miss it?” Zuko rasps. 

  “Bending?” 

  “Yeah.” 

  “Sometimes.” She lets silence fill the air for a moment. “ It’s second nature to me. Fuck, I was bending before I could even talk. Is it bad that I gave up on it? Is it bad it makes me sick to my stomach?” 

  Something she loved, she couldn’t stand to do again. 

  She couldn’t save her mom. She couldn’t save her niece. What was the point anymore? 

  He wraps his hand around hers. 

  //

  “What do you think we would have been like, in another life?” Zuko groans, laying down beside Katara. She’s sprawled out, still taking in heavy breaths after breaking into an intense run. His side still aches. He thinks his arm is broken from fighting off the soldiers while carrying the dozens of survivors. 

  The captain in a nearby village was sentenced to a public execution later in the week. He wanted to go out on his own terms and take his village with him, too. Trying to sacrifice people to the Gods above for forgiveness, he set the place ablaze. 

  It’s too bad The Painted Lady got wind of it first. 

  “Hm?” Katara hums, healing a cut on her face. “I’d like to think Katara in another life got to be normal. Like just owning a Chevy and living life without ever having to acknowledge Timothee Chalamat’s existence type of normal. She’s happy. She doesn’t develop an addiction to Prozac. She probably has a small white dog named Mochi that can fit into a knock-off Fendi purse.” 

  “Really? No butt-warming toilets in her life?” 

  “Nah. She could be the Mayor of Boo Boo the Foolville without any consequences.” She can’t recall a time when she’s felt so free. When her words flow out without carefully being measured. The stars feel like daylight. The expanses of the village’s nearby river tugging at her heart strings. “She could bend without constantly thinking of what could’ve been.” 

  “Zuko in another life would’ve been a piano player.” It still stings. Thinking about the future that could’ve been. 

  “Not a full time Blue Spirit?” She teases. 

  “Full time Blue Spirit doesn’t pay the bills, surprisingly.” 

  He turns his head and sees her nose crinkle. He’s sure it should be illegal for someone to be this beautiful. 

  “This kid I healed, he made his own Blue Spirit costume. He’s been wearing it every day, and treated it like it’s this season’s Versace,” Katara murmurs. He laughs, loud and unbridled. 

  “Yeah? I saw a bunch of little girls with their Painted Lady dolls.” They were holding onto them until their knuckles turned white, even with Zuko dangling them from his shoulders.

   Katara’s heart swells. “I think I’m going to cry.”

   Zuko nudges her shoulder with his when he hears her mock-sniffles. 

  “Did you know I told this guy ‘it’s time to evacuate!’ while he was mid-masturbation.” 

  Katara’s stomach is starting to hurt with how hard she’s squealing. “You’re lying ! Please, say sike!”

  Zuko throws his hands up. “I couldn’t make this up even if I tried. He was all like, ‘You mean time to ejaculate!’” Zuko finishes the story in a dude-bro voice. 

  At this point, Katara was shaking uncontrollably, and it’s infectious. He can’t help laughing, too. 

  A beat of silence passes between the duo, too distracted by the night sky. 

  Zuko rubs a hand over his face, determined to stay awake to see her fall asleep. 

  “What would Zuko and Katara have been in another life?” Katara whispers wistfully. 

  He glances over to her, eyes heavy. “I think being us would have been easier, in another life.” Her light snores fill the air. “At least then, I could be by your side.” 

  He nudges her head until it fits securely in the crook of his shoulder. 

  //

  “Sit there and look pretty!” 

  “No!” 

  “All I’m asking you to do is sit and blink!” Katara had run into a kid with a smuggled polaroid camera trying to snap photos of her. In return for not slicing open his urethra with a dull butter knife, she was trying to force him to take photos of Zuko. After all, she wanted a memento of her time with him. 

  The teen was nervously glanced between the two, the camera shaking in his grasp. 

  “I think I’m going to go find my mom…” 

  “Pussy bitch!” Katara screams at the running boy. 

  “Old ass hoe!” He yelps back. 

  Zuko knew it was a mistake taking Katara to the night market. As a celebration of the Mid-Autumn Festival, curfews were relaxed. The marketplace opened up to sell street food into the night. There’s singing, dancing, laughing, drinking. A night to forget, a night meant for happiness. 

  He thinks it’s ridiculous. The way she doesn’t notice the way guys look at her. He’s spent the better part of the night standing in front of her if any man was brave enough to glance in her general direction. At night, she was in her element, her smile was a blinding thing that made his heart race. She doesn’t pay any mind to anyone staring, to anyone trying to get her attention. She’s just taking in the little moments around her, eyes so bright and stares so wide. Like she’s afraid to miss a single detail with just a blink. 

  “Your breath smells like stupid bitch,” Katara points out after what had to be his 20th grunt of the night. She’s sure he’s holding her close to make sure they still played a newly engaged couple. She relishes in the attention all the same.  

  “Sorry.” He sulks like a child, and it makes Katara want to hug him. 

  She pecks his cheek and he freezes. “Look! He bought his girlfriend that potato on a stick thing!” 

  Zuko rushes off without any hesitation. 

  He picks the fire flakes off the potato slices before handing it to her. She practically inhales the snack, and he frets. He thinks she’s about to stab herself with the skewer. “Oh look!” She points to another couple, while pouting. “He won her a stuffed dragon.” 

  Zuko couldn’t stand to see her upset, even for a second. 

  When she’s hugging the plushie close to her, Zuko throws his arm around her. She stops in her tracks. “Oh my god! Is that ice cream—” He runs to find the vendor without even thinking. 

  “Number 43!” The vendor yelps. Zuko instantly recognizes the greasy teenager picking up the order in front of him.

  “Give me the photos you took of my fiancé,” he says, panting. He practically ran at lightning speed to catch up to the kid, who intentionally rushed off after feeling Zuko glaring him down from a distance. The boy feels his bladder shaking.

  “But—but you didn’t want a photo! You—” Zuko’s best menacing scowl had the kid scrambling through his pockets. “She could do better, you know!” He petulantly points out, before throwing the photo in the air and taking off. 

  Zuko lets himself smile after tucking Katara’s picture safely into his wallet. He knew he told himself he wouldn’t get attached. Not his fault she’s cast him under her spell. 

  //

  He’s pouting. She’s struggling not to laugh in his face. 

  “This is mine, now.” He indignantly rips the toy of her hold, squishing it to his chest instead. 

  “Why?” she questions. 

  “If you want one so bad, ask Chan to win you one.” She straight up guffaws in his face. Zuko had caught Chan hugging her out of excitement. Ty Lee finally agreed to a date with him, all thanks to Katara meddling. 

  “I can’t believe you’d cheat on me!” Zuko scowls. He’s more cute than terrifying, and Katara just rolls her eyes. “I thought I was the only one you call ‘babe!’” He tries protesting. 

  Katara snorts. “That was short for ‘beyblade.’ Let it rip, motherfucker!” 

  “Am I not a good husband-to-be? Is that what it is? Do you feel neglected, babe ?” He’s just fucking with her at this point, his childish pout threatening to bleed into a full blown laugh. He’s biking them back home, with Katara seated at the front on only a towel. She misses her Tesla. 

  “For starters, your toes look like gorilla knuckles. They look like they could wrap completely around a baseball.” 

“Hey!” 

  “Be honest. Has anyone ever sucked your toes until you creamed yourself?” Katara’s favorite pastime is making Zuko blush. 

  She turns back to him to see his reddening face. “Oh my god! Look at how cute you are! I think my stomach has the butterflies!” Zuko just grows positively crimson at her mocking tone. He’ll blame the warming weather, though. 

  “Kill them. I won’t treat you right,” Zuko murmurs. Katara just swats at his head. “Didn’t I shoot at you? Love yourself, Katara.” 

  Once they reach his house, she jumps off the bicycle, and grabs Zuko by the shoulders. “Hey.” 

  “What?” He can’t help being mesmerized by her eyes. 

  “I think I’ll miss you,” Katara breathes. 

  “You have to leave first for you to miss me.” Zuko wraps her up in a tight hug. 

  He feels selfish when he wishes moments with Katara could last a lifetime. 

[living-on-the-virge]

Delphiniums & Desire [CH 1]

Summary: Remy Savidge is just a broke 22 year old guy. His life is going terribly wrong and at this point he has nothing to lose, so with encouragement from his best friend Roman... He finds a sugar daddy. Except falling in love wasn't quite part of the plan. Pairing: Remile (Remy x Emile) Warnings: Sugar Daddy stuff. Note: Nope. [AO3 LINK]

Remy’s grip on the letter tightened, crumpling the sheets between his fingers. He groaned and threw the letter down onto his small kitchen table before turning to kick his wall. His neighbour’s dog barked, and he glared at the peeling wallpaper as if that would shut the dog up. It didn’t. Obviously. His stomach growled and he opened his fridge, finding nothing but a half empty bottle of some weird smoothie (Something Remus had left behind. Remy hated the stuff.).

Remy grabbed his jacket – Black leather, a gift he’d gotten from Roman – and headed out the door, pushing up his sunglasses as he moved. It wasn’t warm out, the crisp October air bit at his skin and orange leaves crunched under his boots, but the glasses were more of a comfort item than protection from the sun anyway. He made his way to the closest Starbucks and pulled out his wallet groaning when he only managed to pull out a few coins. He replaced his wallet and took out his phone instead.

It didn’t take long for Roman to pick up the call.

“Roman, honey, so you know I’m like, the bestest friend ever-“

Roman laughed. “Want a coffee?”

Remy looked around, squinting through his glasses. “Yeah, of course. How’d you-“

“I’m inside of Starbucks and I can see you, idiot. Come inside.”

Remy chuckled quietly as he hung up the phone, walking inside and seeing a flash of red in the corner. Roman. Perfect. He walked over and fell, rather dramatically, into the seat opposite Roman.

“Alright, spill,” Roman demanded, sitting forward in his seat. He cupped his face with his own hands, watching Remy.

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Spill what?”

“Something’s bothering you. My best friend senses are tingling. What’s up?”

Remy’s face dropped and his entire body seemed to mirror that. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. “My landlord is threatening to kick me out. Work is barely getting me any decent money. I have no food at my house and I’m broke.”

Roman’s expression softened and he reached over the table, taking hold of the hand closest to him. “Hey, Rems?” He said quietly.

“Mm.”

“You know you can stay with me and Remus, yeah? I know Remus is a lot to deal with-“

“He ate my fish.”

“Yeah, ok, ok. I know, trust me. He’s wild and it can be tiring, but he cares about you just as much as I do. The couch isn’t super comfortable but you’re free to crash with us for as long as you need.”

The corners of Remy’s lips twitched up into a smile. He sat back up and Roman squeezed his hand before pulling back.

“Or you could get a sugar daddy,” Roman shrugged as he took a sip of his drink.

Remy laughed, but the idea stayed in his mind for the rest of the meeting.

The two sat in the Starbucks for another hour, talking about whatever came to mind. Remy’s worries, while still definitely tugging at him, were pushed back in his head for a while as Roman talked about some new chaotic mixture Remus had created at home. When they finally parted Remy felt better. Not great, but anything was an improvement from his earlier mood.

‘Or you could get a sugar daddy.’

Remy took out his phone and scrolled through the app store, trying to find an app that didn’t seem so shady. He found one with good reviews and ratings and sighed. It’s not like he had anything to lose. Maybe if his ‘sugar daddy’ tried to rob him they’d feel bad at how shitty his living situation was and they’d leave him alone. He chuckled at the thought as he downloaded the app and set up a profile.

He spent the next hour looking through profiles, sending his favourites to Roman for his opinions. Some of the bios made him laugh. His eyes caught a flash of pink and blue and he clicked.

‘Emile Picani, 32’

Fun, Remy thought. That was only a ten-year difference. Much smaller than the difference between some of his other options. The profile looked a lot more casual than the others – A softer tone, multiple cartoon references. Remy smiled as he screenshotted the profile and sent it to Roman. He got an immediate reply.

‘Princey: look if you don’t fuck him, I will :P’

He took that as a good sign and clicked the ‘Start Talking’ button. His fingers froze over the keyboard as it opened. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to act? How did sugar babies do this?

“Just be like, casual. Be calm. What do you have to lose?” He muttered to himself as he started typing.

‘Remy Savidge: uhhhHHHH’

‘Remy Savidge: damn, you’re so pretty I forgot what I wanted to say’

Remy groaned to himself and threw himself down onto his bed. There was no way this would work, this was stupid. He couldn’t even send a normal, human sounding message to the guy. How was he going to convince a stranger to pay his bills? How-

His phone buzzed in his hand.

‘Emile Picani: Cute first move, sugar. You made me blush! Nobody on this app has managed that yet.’

Remy instantly messaged Roman. How the fuck was he supposed to reply? How the fuck did he actually get a response. What the fuck was happening. He was going to kill Roman for ever suggesting this-

Bzzz.

‘Emile Picani: Your profile says you’re new to this. I’d be glad to help you out. If you wanna keep talking, here’s my number!’

Remy saved the number without thinking and instantly texted it.

‘Remy: is it usually this easy to get a number? damn, ive been doing it wrong all these years’

‘Emile: Aww, sugar. You caught my eye more than everyone else. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that start conversations with ‘Give me money’. It’s crazy.’

Remy smiled and instantly found himself sucked into the conversation. The two talked back and forth for the remainder of the night, and Remy found himself laughing multiple times. It was nearing 1am when Emile finally said goodnight.

‘Emile: Sorry to end things here. I need to get to sleep, I have work tomorrow morning. Maybe we could arrange a meeting on Wednesday? There’s a nice little café not too far from my office and I’m friends with the owner.’

Remy stared down at his screen. Already meeting? Did Emile want to talk about Remy actually being a sugar baby?

‘Emile: Unless I’m being too fast, or I misunderstood your mood. We could wait a little longer?’

‘Remy: no, no, just didn’t expect things to work like this. wednesday works. Some time in the afternoon? i like to sleep in’

‘Emile: Of course, sugar. I’ll see you then.’

Remy smiled as he turned off his phone and lay down. Now he just had to hope that this Emile guy was as friendly as he seemed. He closed his eyes and sighed. Now he just had to wait for Wednesday to roll around.

The café that Emile had chosen was nice. Not quite as busy as the Starbucks that Remy had gotten used to, but he appreciated the change. A friendly guy had greeted him as he walked in, all warm smiles and round-framed glasses and soft words. After learning he was waiting for Emile, the guy lead Remy to a table near a window and sat him down.

“Now, what can I getcha? Anythin’ catching your eye?” He asked, motioning towards the menu on the table.

Remy shook his head. “I don’t have any like, money right now. I’m good.”

The grinning man just laughed. “Oh, honey no. You’re waiting for Emmie, aren’t ya? You can order anything you’d like, that man is a softie and he’d’ve brought you something anyway.”

Remy felt his face grow slightly warmer as he looked down at the menu. “Uh- Black coffee and a blueberry muffin, please?”

He received a nod in return. “Of course. I’ll be right back!”

Remy felt the need to shrink back in his seat. Or run. What if this Emile guy didn’t actually arrive, or what if he did but he wasn’t nice, or what if Remy had to pay for himself, or what if this was all just some trap to harvest his organs for pie-

He hid his face in his hands. He’d been around Remus too much.

He heard footsteps and looked up, expecting to see a bright smile and a coffee, instead being greeted by one Emile Picani. Remy’s eyes widened behind his glasses. Emile was tall – Roughly somewhere around 6 feet tall if Remy had to guess, but either way he towered over the table. His hair was light brown and slightly curled at the ends, light freckles dotted over his cheeks and nose, and his eyes behind his glasses looked to be roughly the same light brown as his hair. He smiled and sat down opposite Remy.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long,” He said. “Traffic was terrible today.”

Remy shook his head and shifted in his seat, kinda glad that his shades mostly hid his staring. “I haven’t like, been here for too long.”

It was then that the friendly man from before walked back out, carrying a tray with coffee and a muffin. His eyes lit up when he saw Emile, but he held back his excitement until after he’d given Remy his items.

“Emmie!”

Emile grinned. “Hey Patton! Hope you didn’t scare Remy too much while I was gone.”

Patton pulled a face of mock-offence hand over his chest. “I would never. Dee would for sure, but he’s not in today. Family emergency.”

“Shame,” Emile said, frowning slightly. “I was hoping to set up another session with him. Oh, well- I’ll take the usual please?”

Patton nodded and walked off again. Emile turned his attention back to Remy. “Sorry about all of that, I haven’t been in here for a couple of weeks.”

Remy shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s fine. I get it. I like, do that with my friends too.”

Emile sat back in his seat and rested his arms on the table. “So, lets talk about this. Since you showed up, I’m assuming you haven’t changed your mind about being a sugar baby?”

“No.”

“Good,” Emile smiled, and Remy felt Emile’s eyes burn through his shades. “So, lets set up a few ground rules before we discuss allowances. Is that ok?”

Remy nodded.

“Alright! So, since this isn’t a fully committed romantic relationship, I’m not going to be bothered if you… Hook up with other people when we aren’t together, or even find a partner. That isn’t any of my business and I won’t stop you from doing that.” Emile nodded his head in thanks as Patton put down a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea. “I don’t work on Wednesdays or most Sundays, so I’m available to meet with you at least once and sometimes twice a week, and if you decide you want to meet more, you’re allowed to ask.”

Remy nodded along quietly as Emile spoke. Sure, he was listening, but he couldn’t help but pay attention to the small details in the older man. The way his hands twitched slightly as he picked up his cup, or the light freckles that ran down his neck.

“Anyway, for your allowance – Is there an amount you’d like to offer up before I say what I was thinking?”

Remy was pulled back out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times as he tried to come up with a number. “Uhhh. $300?”

“A week?”

“Y…Yeah? Is that too much?” Remy asked.

Emile paused for a second before laughing. “Oh, sugar… You really are new to this, huh? You’re precious. Alright, alright, my offer is $800 a week, as well as some gifts when I find something, I think you’ll like.”

Remy’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Of course. Is that ok? We can discuss raising it once we’re both more comfortable with everything and if both of our wants in the relationship change.”

Remy nodded and grinned as he finished his muffin. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great.”

Emile’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked it. “Oh dear.”

He stood up, dropping a few notes onto the table. “Sorry, sugar. I’m needed back at the office for something. I’ll text you later? We’ll finish up all the final details of the arrangement and hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

Remy made a noise of agreement and Emile rushed out of the door. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. This was definitely a story to tell Roman.