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stardust948 · 8 months

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A prompt: Hakoda meets his grandchild, the first steambaby

Sequel to She Lives In You

The Fire Nation had strange traditions and customs.

Some more strange than others.

Hakoda tried his best to adhere to them for his daughter and son-in-law's sake, but this one was far more aggravating than strange. His spiraling thoughts were interrupted by Suki's light laughter.

"You two are going to wear down a trough at this rate."

"We can't help it!" Sokka said as he continued to pace. "Katara said the seventh night right? I heard seventh night."

"I should have been there with her." Hakoda muttered while pacing in the opposite direction.

"And this is," Sokka counted on his fingers. "Four, six, seven! The seventh night!!!"

"What if something went wrong?"

"Guys!" Suki waved her hands. "Everything's fine. Katara and Zuko have the best healers at their disposal. Besides, if something was wrong, they would have told us by now."

"She right. Our lovely grandchild is in the best of hands." Iroh said while pouring more tea. "Though I do agree the wait is maddening."

Hakoda and Sokka shared a concerned look.

Suki laughed again then beckoned them to sit down.

"C'mon before you form a hole right through the floor."

Defeated, the father and son joined the others at the table. Hakoda massaged his aching head. He swore the past couple of days added several new gray strands of hair to his already graying head. Iroh placed a cup in front of him.

"Mint tea for the nerves."

Hakoda quietly thanked him and took a sip. It did help. Somewhat.

"Wow Dad, I've never seen you this nervous." Sokka said.

Hakoda grunted.

"Gran-Gran said he acted like this when you and Katara were born too." Suki said. "Actually did wear a trough through the snow."

Hakoda downed his tea, then placed his cup down firmer than he meant to.

"Don't you two dare make me wait this long. Understand?"

Iroh laughed as Sokka placed a hand on Suki's baby bump.

"Promise."

Just then the door swinged open. Hakoda and Sokka were first on their feet followed by Iroh, who was still quite nimble in his old age. But instead of the royal couple or a heralder, two out of breath figures ran into the room.

"We're here! We made it!" Aang panted.

"Aw man it's just you guys." Sokka said disappointedly.

"Good to see you too Snoozels." Toph shot back. "We would have been here on time but someone took forever shaving."

Aang sheepishly rubbed his freshly cleaned head. "I wanted to make a good first impression."

Hakoda resumed pacing as the pleasantries continued. He was glad to see Aang and Toph of course. But they were down to the bare minutes now.

The doors opened again. This time, a royal heralder entered. Everyone jumped up immediately.

"Esteemed family of Firelord Zuko and Royal Consort Master Katara, my I present to you," He glanced down at the scroll. "Princess-"

"Wait, I want to tell them." Katara said from behind as she and Zuko walked in decked in flowing white robes and cradling a small bundle.

The poor heralder was practically shoved aside as the family crowded around the royal couple.

"Let us see!"

"She's so tiny!"

"Give them some breathing room!"

Zuko eventually got them to settle down some by promising there was enough time for everyone to meet the new princess. Katara unwrapped her face and gently handed her to Hakoda. He couldn't take his eyes off the baby. Her soft brown skin and curious golden eyes warmed his heart.

"She's so precious..."

"Dad. " Katara said somewhat nervously. "Meet Kya."

The room fell into bittersweet silent as each person took in the gravity and importance of the news. The baby smiled and gurgled; eyes holding a sparkle Kya's used to. Long awaited tears trickled down Hakoda's face as he gazed at his granddaughter.

"Thank you."

___

Thanks for the prompt ❤️

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starwritesstuff · 11 months

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i would do anything for you to love me like i'm an american hero

(Chap 1)

yeah yeah yeah this is a rainbow kitten surprise song title i can't help myself- i did draw quite a bit of inspo from this song anyhooooozzllessss i put this on ao3 but i figure since i be writing stuff here too i'll post it here.

summary: You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Figured I should at least give you my name since I make it a point to bother you every time I see you here.” He takes it, grip warm, firm. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” Gives you a crooked grin. “And you’re not a bother.” Oh? You weren’t, huh? ---- You're pathetic and in love with your best friend. How do you love a ghost?

word count: 3,127

rating: this chapter is g rated buuuttt there is eventual smut so i cannot recommend minors reading this fic- also pls brace yourselves for a lotta angst i'm rly gonna PUT THEM THROUGH A BLENDER (insert me rubbing my hands together like some kinda Machiavellian freak)

The first time you meet Leon it’s in a cafe. He’d bumped into you in line. Leon muttered a sheepish apology and you thought it had been downright adorable.

You’d flirted shamelessly with him- how could you not? With looks like that, the near innocent way he had said sorry. He’d just stood there, a bit awkward, and you’d thought- god what a cutie.

After that you had started to see him a lot more frequently at that cafe and, well, you hadn’t been a regular. But you became one since that first interaction.

It’s not for another month that you get the courage to do more than make flirtatious comments- though he’s always a good sport about those.

“Anyone ever told you you’re kind of an awkward guy?” You ask him, sipping on your hot latte. Eyeing him. He startles, turning a very blue gaze your way.

“Ah, yeah.” He laughs, a dry thing, and rubs the back of his neck. “Might have been once or twice.” Oh could he get any more sweet? He reminds you of a puppy.

You hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Figured I should at least give you my name since I make it a point to bother you every time I see you here.”

He takes it, grip warm, firm. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” Gives you a crooked grin. “And you’re not a bother.” Oh? You weren’t, huh?

The two of you are standing in the lobby, someone shuffling past you to get to the line. Right. You’re in the way.

You turn back to Leon, grinning. “Do you want to come sit with me? Save me from boring reports?” You watch a flush settle along the back of his neck, crawling up to turn the tips of his ears red. You’re so in trouble.

Leon returns your grin with teeth that are slightly crooked. Furthering your deep descent into your crush.

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If you paced any more you’d likely wear a tread into the carpet.

It had been months, you think, since you heard from Leon. More since you last saw him.You knew he had an unorthodox job. Something dangerous. Leon always returned a little more banged than when he left.

You didn’t expect Leon, who was more or less a sweet, bashful guy, to have a job like that. But he always, always managed to make contact when he was gone. Whatever had happened you just hoped, wished, prayed to what deity would listen that he was okay. That he wasn’t dead. That he’d come back, even if he was banged up.

You force yourself to quit your relentless back and forth. Tea. You wanted- needed some tea. That honey chamomile you’d gotten last week at the store. You had some clover honey pops to go with it, if you could find them. You tap your fingers impatiently on the stove handle, waiting for the kettle to boil. When it does, you ignore the shakiness of your hands as you pour it over two bags. You like your tea strong.

Walking over to your couch, collapse. Curse loudly when you slosh some of that hot tea fresh off the stove on your fingers. You stick your pointer and middle finger in your mouth, wincing at the stinging pain. Gotta turn something on the TV, distract yourself. You settle on The Great British Bake Off. Stupid stuff, but you liked the friendly competition. And you got to see some pretty neat creations.

You settle into the couch, worn and comfy from years of use, like most of the things in your home. What can you say, you liked homey, comfy things. You draw the fuzzy blanket draped over the couch to you. Wrap yourself up. Sip your tea. And watch Paul Hollywood stare with his weird blue eyes.

It’s actually doing a great job of taking your mind off of Leon. British accents and pastries have that effect, you think. The heat kicks on and you take your sweater off, leaving you in your thin camisole. Too hot for blankets, sweaters, and the heat on. You pillow your head on the arm of the couch.

You don’t know what wakes you. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you have this awful feeling of being watched. Your living room was dark, your TV having gone into that energy saving mode it does when it’s on too long. You stay very still, heart pounding. There’s a creak and you know someone is there.

Could be one of two things because honestly, the only person that could access your home was Leon. Or, conversely, a burglar. Murderer. Whatever.

“Leon?” That seems the most obvious choice. You slowly sit up, rubbing gritty sleep from your eyes.

“Yeah.” Comes his husky reply.

“Christ. What time is it?”

“Just after one in the morning.” Soft light floods the room; he’s turned on one of your floor lamps. You shove a hand through your hair. You slept all of four hours probably. Your mouth is fuzzy and you run your tongue over them. Tastes nasty, too. You must’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. You hate doing that.

He comes over, to sit by you on the couch and god he does not look good. He’s got a cut over the bridge of his nose, deep purple coloring under his eyes and his straight brows are hung low, scrunching over his nose.

“So” you start. Stop. Take a drink of cold tea to wet your throat. This was awkward. Your locks had been changed. Did he pick them?

He isn’t looking at you, rather he’s looking at the floor. His hands hang loosely between his knees, elbows planted on his thighs. Leon looks exhausted. You had meant to rage at him a little when you saw him next. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do that right now. Not when he looks like this.

“Long trip?” You settle on. Leaning back under your blanket, cradling that cold cup of tea in your hands. Just for something to do.

“Something like that”, he grunts. Opens his mouth, then closes it again. He shakes his head and for a wild moment you’re reminded of a dog shaking its floppy ears. You say nothing, turn your attention back to your tea. It’s tense. You rub your finger along the rim of the cup.

“I suppose I owe you an apology.” Leon’s squinting at you now. He looks unsure, like maybe you have the answers. You shrug instead. Your shoulders get stuck up by your ears though, hunching. You force them down.

“If you want.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Leon’s eyes slide over to you. He doesn’t seem familiar to you right now. There’s no boyish light in his eyes, no silly puppy look to his features. He moves with a deliberate slowness, nothing like the eagerness you’re used to. Something’s happened, you know it has.

You clear your throat.

“If you want me to leave, I can go.” Startled you look at him. “No. No, I was just… thinking about if you’d picked my lock.” It was only half of a lie, anyway.

Leon snorts. “Should consider locking the deadbolt. It’s there for a reason.” Ah, right. The deadbolt. You never use. You guess locks on a door handle are probably much easier to get through than a deadbolt.

“Look, I know it’s been awhile.” Leon says, shoving his elbows off his thighs and letting out a long breath. You fidget with your cup some more. “It has.”

You really have no right to feel this way. The two of you are… Best friends. Close, but not close in the ways to warrant this irrational anger you have. You feel almost abandoned. You cringe inwardly at the feeling. Abandoned. Yeah, what are you, some rescue animal dropped off at the shelter?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon’s jaw clench, the muscle fluttering under sallow skin.

You shift under your blanket, eyes bleary, focusing on some faraway point in the living room that you can't really see. You grumble about needing to find your glasses. A few seconds later, Leon hands them to you. You take them, careful to not brush his fingers. You don’t look at him when you quietly murmur your thanks. You wish that he would say something, or you would just open your mouth and say what you feel. Something to relieve the tension in the room.

“I’m surprised to see you. For a while there I wasn’t sure…” You trail off. You don’t want to finish the sentence.

He cracks a smile. It looks worn at the edges, a little unsure. “I wasn’t… I didn’t know if I’d be welcome.” Your shoulders hunch again at that. He probably wouldn’t have been welcome had you known he was going to come here, if you were honest. Ah, have you mentioned you hate this? Things haven’t been weird and tense between the two of you since, well, ever.

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know you’re always welcome here.”

“Am I?”

You pick at the blanket. “Of course.” You blow a breath out, blow it up and it stirs the hair off your forehead.

You grab the TV remote, turn it on.

“I was watching The Great British Bake Off.” You say when he doesn’t reply. The two of you sit for awhile. The TV lights flickering over your faces. You don’t know about Leon, but you’re not really watching. Not really, no. You were sneaking glances at him, taking his still stiff posture. How his hands haven’t moved from his thighs. He looks poised to run, you think.

The episode ends. Starts a new one. You think maybe the not talking happening between the two of you is going to drive you crazy. But you don’t open your mouth. Don’t try to pick at this weird shell he’s created, retreated into. You probably should. He’s your best friend. You should want to try to be there for him.

You’re scared. This new version of Leon feels like he doesn’t want to be here. With you. The old Leon would be excitedly telling you about blowing shit up and shyly asking if you wanted to get coffee at that cafe. As if you’d say no, despite the many times the two of you have kept up the tradition. Now he seems to not know what to do with you. How to be here.

You rub your nose. Pull your knees up. Tuck your hair behind your ears. You know you’re fidgeting. You can’t help it. You’ve never felt this- this weird next to him. Okay, maybe weird isn’t the right word. You certainly feel strange around him, you’re not a fool, you know why. But this is a new strangeness. It’s born of an insecurity that you never thought you’d have.

“You don’t… have to stay. You know? I won’t be mad if you have, like, other places you wanna be.” You wonder if that comes out as needy as you feel. Leon turns his gaze to you, something complicated flicking through his eyes. Quick enough that you don’t quite catch it, not quick enough that you don’t notice it and wonder.

“No, no. Sorry. I’m tired.” Leon’s tone gives nothing away. But it sounds like an excuse to your ears. Does he… pity you? Feel obligated to you? To stay? You try to grin at him, like you always do, like you used to. “Sure. Sure, yeah, I imagine. Um, the guest bed is always made up. You know, just in case.” And it had been. It stayed made up since the last time you had left. Leon huffs out a near silent laugh. “Is it?”

“Yeah. You kinda made a habit of crashing here, you know. So I just… kept it. I mean, I wash the sheets and stuff.” You hurry to explain that last part. You’d taken to keeping extras of things around the house for him. Toothbrush, towel, shirts and boxers and socks. It was all very domestic, blah blah blah. Your heart clenches.

Leon shifts in his spot. Toes off his boots. You wrinkle your nose.

“Walking around in my house with your nasty boots, huh” you chide him, teasing. You get a flash of a genuine smile at that. Your heart unclenches. Just a little.

“Sorry” he says. He doesn’t sound very sorry. In fact, you’d say he sounds a little mischievous. Leon holds his boots out to you. “Wanna see how nasty they are?” You squeal, smack at them. “You’re gross, Kennedy.”

He laughs, sets them by the couch. “You’re fond of telling me.”

You raise a brow at him. "Do you have to put them there? You could, I don't know, stick them. On the shoe rack. That is literally right by my door." Leon shrugs.

“Easier to just take them off here.” He teases. But he gets up, sets the boots on the rack. Holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “See? I put them away like a good boy.” You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle laughter.

“You wouldn’t know how to be a good boy if it came up and slapped you in the face.” You poke at him. “You’re a menace.”

Leon levels you with a kind of look that has your giggles freezing in your throat. Just shy of indecipherable, poorly hidden heat. You hadn’t really thought about the words when they came out, just enjoying the banter with him. You quickly look away. No way were you taking any time to pick apart that look. Adjust your mental position, firmly sticking yourself in the “Leon’s closest friend” category.

“It’s getting a bite late for me,” you say, fighting to keep your voice from wavering. “I think I’m going to actually go to bed.” You think you see a flash of disappointment cross his pretty features. But he stands with you, stretching. T-shirt riding up, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of pale skin, toned. Light scars littered amongst moles.

You turn your head away, give Leon a light pat on the shoulder. “See you in the morning? Let’s go to our cafe.”

“Sure, been awhile. D’you think they remember me?”

“Hard to forget, don’t’cha think?”

Leon laughs at that. Does that thing where he awkwardly shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. He needs a haircut, you think. It’s gotten over-long. Makes you think of a little emo boy.

“I’ll wake you when I’m up.” He was saying, jerking you out of your musings.

“No later than 8am, mister.” You warn him. Well aware that Leon was an early riser, no matter how little he slept. Leon puts a warm hand on the top of your head. “I promise, I will not wake you before 8am.” He says with mock solemnity. You suck your teeth in response, moving to knock his hand off your head. Retreat a few steps towards your room.

“Good. See that you don’t. Goodnight, Kennedy.” You call, escaping to your room. Try to calm your racing heart. Leon didn’t often initiate physical contact with you, and that was fine, really you preferred it that way. Because when he does, your brain fizzles out. Nervous system goes haywire.

You climb into bed, thoughts shifting to Leon’s earlier behavior. How tense things had been. It was the first time you felt that uncomfortable with him. The two of you were normally much more cohesive. You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever he’d come back from was different. Different from what he usually dealt with. Though, you know you likely won’t get to know. You generally weren’t privy to specifics with him.

You flip to your side, restless. Drag the covers your head, clutching a pillow close to your chest. And what was that ridiculous reaction earlier? Leon had looked… Hot? Sexy? Wanting? Your traitorous brain supplies. Surely not, not because of someone like you. Sure you flirted with him, had built a silly friendship with that flirtation as the foundation, but it didn’t mean anything. You’re, well, you. And Leon’s Leon. He was… magnetic, a little stupid, a little cheesy, but you’d been drawn to that. And he was pretty- really, you hadn’t seen a man so beautiful. All high cheekbones, full lips, delicate brows. And you weren’t convinced he didn’t use mascara or eyeliner, or something with lashes like those.

It hurt sometimes, looking at him.

You weren’t typically an insecure person. You’d even say that, sometimes, you might even be a bit big for your britches. But your friendship (you refuse to call it a relationship) with Leon left you feeling a little inadequate at times. That feeling had crawled into your sternum, made a little nest among your heart and viscera the first time he’d come back from a trip. You wished you could grab it, like it was one of those prickly things that attached themselves to your socks, and pluck it out. But it was there to stay.

You jerk the covers off your head, the space having gotten hot, humid and somewhat hard to breathe. You roll onto your back, dragging the pillow with you. You wonder what Leon was doing. Was he tossing and turning? Punching his pillow softer, to fit his head? Or had he just conked out, exhausted. Sometimes, when he stayed over, he’d get nightmares. And you’d find his silhouette in your doorway, shyly asking if he could sit with you for a bit. First time he did it you thought you might shit your pants. You had scolded him, told him to make a little noise. That waking up to him just hanging in the doorway like some kinda freaky serial killer was just terrifying. Since then, Leon had always made sure to purposely creak your creaky floorboards, to swing the door open noisily.

Not tonight, though. It was quiet. The overhead fan was the only sound you could hear. It was too quiet, one of those nights that made you wish you had a TV in your room, so you could stick something on. The silence just made your thoughts louder, screaming, ringing in your head. Knowing Leon was just in the other room, yards away, doing whatever it is he does at night, knotted your stomach. Quickened your breath. Made that thing in your chest ache.

You forcefully wrangle your melancholy thoughts into submission. It was far too late for any more of it, and you needed some semblance of sleep. You just know Leon’s going to wake you precisely at 8am, just to be difficult.

#resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil angst #mutual pining #friends to lovers #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #star's writing

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playingwithstarsabove · 2 months

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You know that Toshiro headcanon I posted a long time ago? Well, I made it part of a fanfiction! It's about Toshiro in the aftermath of Tactica!

(If you haven't played the game yet, be aware of spoilers!)

#fanfic #star's writing #persona 5 #persona 5 tactica #persona series #toshiro kasukabe #archive of our own

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wolfmoonblues · 7 months

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this is not what i am going to be using for my intro this silly little werewolf knight story but i think. it would be really funny if i kept it

#star's writing #writing #oc writing #writeblr #oc fiction #fantasy writing #though there's no fantasy in here really lol #b:wk

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https-st4r · 9 months

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HELLO!!!

Hi! I'm Star:D I go by He/they! I like to write things, uhm, request things you want me to write<33 I write smut, fluff, angst, etc!!

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ninjagirlstar5 · 11 months

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Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Danganronpa Another 2 - The Moon of Hope and Sun of Despair, sdra2 - Fandom, Super Dangan Ronpa Another 2, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Otori Teruya/Sannoji Mikado, IRL Sannotori, Otori Teruya & Sannoji Mikado, Iranami Keisuke & Maki Ryutaro, Otori Teruya & Iranami Keisuke, Otori Teruya & Maki Ryutaro, Kinjo Tsurugi & Otori Teruya, Iranami Keisuke & Sannoji Mikado, Maki Ryutaro & Sannoji Mikado, Mekaru Rei & Otori Teruya, Mekaru Rei & Sannoji Mikado, Yamaguchi Midori & Sannoji Mikado, Tomori Minako & Otori Teruya, Tomori Minako & Sannoji Mikado, Kinjo Tsurugi & Mekaru Rei, Yamaguchi Midori & Otori Teruya, Ando Hikaru & Otori Teruya, Ando Hikaru & Sannoji Mikado, Iranami Keisuke & Ando Hikaru, Tomori Minako & Maki Ryutaro, Yamaguchi Midori & Tomori Minako, Ando Hikaru & Tomori Minako, Ando Hikaru & Maki Ryutaro, Yamaguchi Midori & Maki Ryutaro, Yamaguchi Midori & Iranami Keisuke, Ando Hikaru & Yamaguchi Midori Characters: Otori Teruya, Sannoji Mikado, Irl Sannoji Mikado, Iranami Keisuke, Maki Ryutaro, Kinjo Tsurugi, Mekaru Rei, Yamaguchi Midori, Tomori Minako, Original Characters, Ando Hikaru Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, plenty of comfort but plenty of hurt, No Beta, 3rd Limited POV, Otori Teruya's POV, IRL Sannoji Mikado's POV, there will be others but those two are the main ones, some characters are mentioned but won't be tagged until they make an official appearance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fangan Ronpa: Super Danganronpa Another 2 - The Moon of Hope and Sun of Despair, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, sorta - Freeform, there's a reason why those two tags are in the same breath, Spoilers for SDRA2 and DRA, the fact that IRL Mikado Sannoji is in the tags is a spoiler in itself sorry, IRL Mikado Sannoji Lives AU, Swearing, Past Injuries, Spoilers, Tags Contain Spoilers, Past Character Death, technically enemies to friends to lovers but we start when they're friends, we will get flashback chapters eventually, Between Seasons/Series, tags will be updated if I remember something or find a tag that fits, tags will also be updated as the story goes on, past crimes, (stares at Mikado), specific content and trigger warnings will be in the beginning of the author notes if they apply, Secret Relationship, Rated M for Violence and Blood and Gore Summary:

"Never play with fire" was something everyone hears at least once in their life. Teruya Otori knows this, he should know this very well. He does everything he can to be careful with one of nature's most dangerous forces of life.

And yet, taking in the real Mikado Sannoji ended up being more than he bargained for. Especially when his feelings for the criminal grow to be more than what's professional. But Teruya, despite all the warnings, tries his best to make it all work out.

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Chapter 11 Update!

Summary: Teruya and Mikado finally adjusts to sharing a room and eventually a bed together. But June is coming up, which makes both of them gloomy.

After all, the anniversary of the Proto-Killing Game was coming up. The very event that changed the trajectory of their lives.

CW: Brief Narration of Underage Sex, Bits of Suicidal Ideation, Nightmares of Death/Corpses, Blood

Lots of grieving all around, considering all of the people that died in the Proto-Killing Game.

And, like usual, some sexual tension near the end of Teruya and Mikado's POVs. And some brief moment of possessiveness in Mikado's POV.

Also, I may know the events of the Danganronpa timeline but I don't know how to fit DRA in it, especially since I've pretty much expanded the 79th class's time in Hope's Peak before they were forced to leave, so I decided to just say, "fuck it, we ball." I'll make it make sense somehow.

#SDRA2 #Teruya Otori #Mikado Sannoji #IRL Sannotori #Super Danganronpa Another 2 #IRLkado #SDRA2 Spoilers #IRL Mikado Sannoji #IRL Terukado #Playing with Fire #Playing with Fire AU #Fanfic #My Writing #Star's Writing

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starredforlife · 1 year

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velvet pumpkin :)

velvet pumpkin: what do you like describing the most when it comes to scene dressing? share an excerpt

ah. hm. well here's the thing. and if you read most of what i write you will also notice it. i don't really do scene dressing. i do this:

character a and character b (others optional), sitting/standing/laying down, in [specific area], expressing [specific emotion], go.

this is bc i'm not writing anything super long-form rn! it's also because i'm writing halfway between prose and screenwriting. all i've got rn are moments that i'm brainrotting with until i write it down and these are mostly character interactions, specific scenes of action or dialogue, or bullet-pointed backstory. im gonna root thru my notes app and find something for you tho. i like finding unique ways to describe people a lot if that counts!!

OKAY i found something. i had to look in my google drive. this one is a little old and doesn't describe a set but i do think it sets a tone lol. dresses a scene if you will. under the readmore!

writer asks

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They walked into the classroom single-file, and they looked ridiculous. Melody, dressed in heavy winter garb with only a slit for her eyes, fumbling to find a seat. Lupa, sauntering in like she already knew what assignment was due, her human ears and almost clean-shaven appearance smoothing her features uncomfortably. Omar didn’t even bother to change. Al was, well. Invisible. So she got a pass.

Jaime, the only passably normal one, had Cyrus tucked away in his book bag, and of course, Cyrus would not shut up. The faint echo of clicky chatter was thankfully muffled behind the Jansport’s front pocket. “You know, they’ve never noticed me in the past! All it took was a little hypnosis. Sure, they might repeat the lesson several times, forget their names, but all the better for the exams, am I right?”

Nearly two steps in, Lupa bumped into a stair railing and yelped “Shit!” with a distinctively doglike whine, and the auditorium turned all eyes to the group of Very Normal Humans (and One Bat). “Really, it would be fine--”. Omar elbowed the book bag.

“What, they not teach you how to curse here?” Lupa yelled, unnecessarily loud, and flopped into a chair. The class turned around murmuring, like a flock of birds, or like dominoes. All at once, shuffling.

“Fucking creepy.” Melody mumbled. “Also, I’m pretty sure I’m getting heat stroke. I don’t think I’ve ever sweat before, but this might make me.”

Before Al could grab the water bottle, Lupa reached out to stop her reach. “They’ll just see it floating, Jenkins, let me handle it.”

She tossed it to Mel, who caught it between oven mitts. The siren didn’t even hesitate to douse her face with it. Mel blinked the rest of the water away. Lupa gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up; Omar buried his head in his hands and groaned.

#star's writing #star's asks #ask prompts #ty!!

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writingafterdeath · 2 years

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you ever have those moments where you like have so many ideas for your writing. like too many ideas. and like you need just a small push into one direction. I guess that’s why I like prompts and stuff. like i need someone to tell me what to write for them. then my brain like jump starts itself. i just never get any prompts.

#star's writing #stardust writes #writer #writers block #The Last Kingdom #//ch: sanna arkynikdottir #the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom blurb

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lucidloving · 1 month

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D. Alan Holmes, Enlightenment // Signet Amenti // @cryptonature // Alan Wilsom Watts // Evan M. Cohen, "Oceans" // Nikita Gill // @pauladoodles // Julian Gough, "Minecraft End Poem" // Sleeping At Last—Saturn

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autumnillustration · 10 days

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"Perhaps a lesser-known gift of Kenobi's was his ability to listen."

(AU where post-banishment Ahsoka gets zapped back to TPM, strapped with a fundamental distrust of the Jedi, an apocalyptic vision of the future, and a mandate to help Anakin Skywalker. So, in all this, it's nice to have a confidant.)

edit: link to the fic

#found myself thinking about these two lately #star wars #i return briefly to star wars for May 4th #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #although he smiles stuff #illustration #art #artists on tumblr #fanart #shout out to those who've read the fic #I went back to edit it recently #cursed experience #trying to decipher my writing is like trying to read doctor's handwriting but i gave it a crack anyway

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thegeminisage · 6 months

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i'm just going to go ahead and make this its own post. when kirk teases spock he is SO GENTLE. "why mister spock are you feeling emotion?" and he lets spock do the vulcan equivalent of giggling and kicking his feet and going "haha nooo silly i'm a VULCAN i don't do that!!" and kirk's like "oh my apologies mister spock of COURSE not" and then they make consensual loving eyecontact with one another while smiling. when BONES senses blood in the water (spock having an emotion) he will grab spock by the scruff of his fucking neck and shake until dead. like a dog with a squirrel.

#personal #star trek blogging #tos lb #SPIRK #SPONES #in both instances this is romance btw.#liz's star trek stuff #liz writes meta

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stardust948 · 3 months

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Half Off Chocolate

Prompt: They fight over discounted Valentine's Day chocolate while arguing over who had it worse.

Katara didn’t know why she didn’t just go home.

Her makeup was smeared from crying, dress wrinkled, and hair slipping out of its neat bun. She was a messed and felt even worse inside. Maybe that is why she stopped at the nearest convenient store for some well deserved and frankly overdue, sweets.

The store was a ghost town. Scattered pink and red merchandise laid abandoned on the floor and nearly empty shelves. Of course. Though it was still Valentine’s Day, the hour was late and most of the good stuff was long gone.

Katara wandered to the candy section, feeling like a lost spirit herself; haunting the remains of a once beautiful dwelling now succumbed to ruin. The candy ail was picked clean, as expected. Even the less popular treats were gone. Nothing left except a lone heart shaped red box. An ugly orange sticker slapped hastily on read the box was 50% off due to damage.

‘How fitting. A damaged heart for a damaged heart.’ Katara thought to herself.

A bitter half smile grew on her face as she reached out to pick it up. She did not notice the other hand reaching at the same time until they both grabbed the box. Katara gasped, more out of annoyance than surprise.

The person was a Fire Nation man about her age. He wore a fancy suit with the neck tie partly undone and had long black hair that spilled onto his face. Bits of red peaked under the hair on his left side, probably from a rash or blemish he was trying to hide. Despite this, he was admittedly attractive in his own way.

Katara glared. He must have forgotten what day it was, hastily threw on the fancy outfit and rushed to the store to buy sweets for his disappointed partner. Well too bad! Katara needed it more!

“Excuse you.” Katara said coldly. “I had that first.”

“What? No I did.”

“You’re wrong.” Katara yanked it, but the man held firm. “Let go!”

“I had it first! You let go!”

“No you!”

They yelled and tugged on the chocolate box like a couple of kids fighting on the playground.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?!” Katara spat. “I’ve earned that chocolate!”

“Earned?! I need it more!!!”

“It’s not my fault you forgot Valentines’ Day and had to last minute shopping!”

“I didn’t forget! My girlfriend dumped me today of all days!”

“Oh boohoo! My long term boyfriend proposed today-“

“Well congratulations!” His voice dripped in sarcasm.

“After I caught him cheating, you prick!” Katara snapped. “He didn’t even apologize! Just pulled out a ring and thought that would fix everything!”

“You think that’s bad?! My ex dumped me by bringing the guy she was cheating on me with for the past 2 years!”

“My ex brought his fangirls to the proposal! The very ones who treated me like a maid and constantly threatened me just because I was dating him!”

“My ex threw a glass bottle at my head just for dating another girl while we were on break!”

“My ex threw a lit candle at me because I didn’t want to kiss him right then!”

“My ex did kiss me just to shut me up from talking about confused emotions!”

“My ex purposefully kept me away from my family and constantly belittled my culture!”

“My ex insulted me just for having different opinions from her!”

“My ex compared my grief of my mom’s murder to losing his pet! Then scolded me for giving a witness report against the murder in trail!!!”

“My ex told my sister where I was knowing she’ll tell my abusive father!!!”

The box ripped in half, sending them flying back and pelting them with chocolate. The two stared at each other in stunned silence before the owner came storming up and kicked them out. The slammed door echoed across the bare parking lot as the two continued to stand there awkwardly.

“Did she really do those things?” Katara asked in a hushed tone.

“Yeah.” The man rasped. There was no hiding the sadness in his voice. “Yours’s?”

Katara nodded. “Yeah…”

“Sounds like a really crappy person.”

“Yours’s too.”

There was another brief silence before he spoke again.

“We’re better off without them.”

“Are we?” Katara asked. “We were just fighting over discounted chocolate 5 minutes ago.”

“Okay, maybe not tonight specifically… But in the long run, we’re better off.”

Katara rubbed her necklace as tears formed. She wanted to agree but a large part of her life was tied to that relationship. Tied to him. Katara shook her head. The stranger was right.

“We are better off.”

“Sorry about…” He gestured to the store behind them. ”That.”

“I’m sorry too.” Katara undid her messy bun, letting her hair fall free, then extended her hand. “I’m Katara.”

He accepted with a firm grip. “Zuko.”

#ficlet #atla #atla au #zutara #zutara au #katara #zuko #valentine's day #meet ugly #anti kataang #anti maiko #anti aang #anti mai #to be safe #star's writing

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