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blueburningcup · 1 year

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Coconut Pineapple

And the Valentine’s day one shot that y’all voted for! Gonna try to work on the Ruby/Regina one.

Summary: Seicho takes Azula to the beach to do some chocolate tasting. Azula tries to shake away doubts that Ozai and Fire Nation high class society have instilled within her.

The sun is still high. It casts vivid rays through the windows of Seicho’s bedroom. It is a small dwelling, but it is very cozy. As fate would have it, she owns the same seashell bedspread that Lo and Li do.

She also owns a lot of clutter. Ships in bottles and bottled sand are scattered throughout the room amid piles of seashells and dried starfish. The ceiling is home to many replica sea animals that hang on strings. Seicho had mentioned that she is terribly uncomfortable with people drying out real sea critters for decoration and Azula supposes that she can see how the other woman would find the practice unsettling. Her floor is covered in mis-matching and colorful rugs that would make Mai hurl. And her wall is covered in paintings and wooden masks that just don’t go together.

Admittedly, the first time that she’d set foot in this room it had made her head ache trying put the disjointed pieces together.

She has long since given that up. Seicho seems to acquire new treasures at a rate much faster than she could ever hope to organize things.

As much as she hates to admit it, she has grown used to the clutter. Frankly, she thinks that she would be more uncomfortable if she stepped into this room to find it suddenly spotless. Not that she isn’t uncomfortable right now.

“You know that it’s not like it was a few years ago. Honestly, Ember Island was never really shy about this kind of thing. And you shouldn’t be either.”

“I’m not shy. I just…I know what’s expected of me.” She pauses. “And what isn’t.” She takes another glance in the mirror. Her hair falls over her shoulders in waves. She had let Seicho fix small seashells into the stands. Really, the swimsuit isn’t all that showy. More so than the one she had worn on her last trip to Ember Island but nothing as brave as what Ty-Lee had worn.

But then, father hadn’t approved of her first swimsuit either.

“What are you trying to do?” He had asked. “Do you want people to think that we’re a nation full of harlots?”

“Mai and TyLee…”

She remembers the look on his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“TyLee, that girl was always floozy, her parents should have raised her better. She’s going to end up pregnant and disgrace her family like Chan’s sister. Is that what you want to do?”

“We were on the beach…”

It was a logical enough thing to say but father had made it seem senseless and stupid. Like she was a lost cause for doing what? Chancing a quick swim? But spirits it was effective because she feels so very exposed.

“You look great.” Seicho promises.

And that’s exactly the problem. She will draw looks, the kind that father has always warned her about. The kind that he would get angry with her for even if she had done everything she could to avoid getting those looks. The ones that make her feel queasy.

“I’d like to put my armor back on.”

Seicho quirks a brow. “You want to wear armor to a chocolate tasting?” She pauses. “On the beach?”

Azula bites the inside of her lip.

“I thought that you were a fan of being practical.”

“I am.”

“Well then, let’s be practical. Beach, sunny. Sun, hot. Armor? Sweltering. I don’t want to have to carry you home because you passed out. I especially don’t want to have to carry you if you’re wearing like fifty pounds of armor.”

“It’s not that heavy.” She mumbles.

“My point is, no one wears armor to the beach and you know it.”

Azula shrugs.

“This is perfect.” She insists. “You do like it don’t you?”

Azula nods. The fabric feels very comfortable. The skirt is quite long but so is the v slit. Long enough to show off her whole leg. She likes the gold belt that sits on her hips with its seashell charms and its gold coins. The top suits her nicely, it is sleeveless–held up by a zipper in the back and a chain to match the one at her hips. Embroidered along the bottom of the bikini top are golden flames and one small dragon. There is another chain fixed to the bottom of that bikini top is one more chain. One that dangles down to her belly with a collection of rubies and sunstones.

It is flashy.

Eye catching.

She doesn’t want eyes to be caught.

She adores how it looks but she doesn’t love the idea of wearing it in public. She is perfectly content having captured only one pair of eyes.

“You’re dad was wrong, you know that don’t you?” She pauses.

“He’s not the only one who thinks like that.”

“He’s not the only person with wrong opinions. The Fire Nation always talks about being so brave and amazing. And yet they’re all so scared of a little skin.”

“They’re afraid of change.” Azula mumbles. “Which is strange. I’ve read about Fire Nation fashion as part of cultural and historical research, of course.”

“Of course.” Seicho rolls her eyes.

Azula opts to ignore the doubt in her voice. “Fire Nation culture has roots in Sun Warrior culture and their clothing style much more closely resembles modern Ember Island fashion trends.” She pauses. “The shift happened during the war.”

“Yeah, because they want to stifle creativity…or something. Come on.” Seicho hooks Azula by the elbow and begins leading her to the door. “You’re putting so much thought into this, all we’re going to do is go down to the beach and have some chocolate. And a good time, we are going to have a good time.”

Azula certainly hopes so.

She is, afterall, the princess. Now that father isn’t here to demean her she supposes that there isn’t much anyone can do to stop her from having a nice time, from feeling comfortable.

She can stop herself though.

She is very good at that.

.oOo.

“Well, which do you prefer?”

Azula hums, “I’m not sure, they both taste good enough.”

Seicho pops another piece of chocolate into her mouth and then a second sample of chocolate type four.

Both truly are amazing. Type three is a touch bitter, it is rich in the same way that dark silks and woodsy colognes are. Type three is rich like warm blankets, cream, and the glow of a beach bonfire.

“The caramel one.” Azula decides.

“Yeah, I think that I prefer that one too.” Seicho agrees. “It kind of just melts on your tongue.”

Seicho links their hands and leads her along to the next stall. The beach is so lively and crowded. For once, Azula is comforted by the massive gathering. Everyone just breezes by her, each person–individual or couple–is invested in their own doings. Their own romances or personal delights.

Whether that thing is the chocolate sampling breaking away from the crowd to watch the twinkle of lantern lights reflecting in the water. The fireworks will begin soon.

“Oh! Try this one!” Seicho offers her another chocolate. This one of the white variety. It has been carefully molded and dyed to bare likeness to a firelily. It certainly looks appetizing.

She plucks it from Seicho’s hand. “It’s got a touch of…peach?”

“I think that it might be mango, or orange?”

“Those are two completely different flavors!” She exclaims. “And they’re both incorrect guesses. It is definitely a hint of peach.”

“No way, taste it again!” She insists.

“Seicho, I don’t know how much more chocolate I can handle.” Regardless she lets Seicho give her another piece. “Last one and then I’d like to walk by the water.”

Seicho exhales through her nose. “Fine, I guess. But I would like to taste Mikahara’s chocolate first. I heard that she’s got some kind of coconut-pineapple chocolate that sounds tasty.”

“Alright, Mikahara’s chocolate and then some quiet time.” Away from people, away from the occasional glances. The ones that linger too long for her comfort.

She lets Seicho lead her along. They weave through a lively crowd. Everyone looks so comfortable and at ease with hibiscus in their hair and drinks in their hands. No one seems troubled in the slightest. Azula inhales and drinks in the smell of chocolate and fruity drinks.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Sheicho squeezes her hand. “You’re doing great. We can pass on the Mikahara’s…”

She shakes her head. “No! We can go get it.” She has to get herself comfortable. Has to take back what father and years of ridiculous expectations have taken from her. “I’m fine, I always finish things that I start.”

“Technically I started it.”

“I want to enjoy tonight, all of tonight.” Every list scent, taste, and sight. Every emotion that she had, in the past, tried to keep herself from. She wants to be alive. Truly alive.

And tonight is the perfect night to do that.

To reclaim parts of herself.

To make new parts of herself.

Parts that she can cherish the way Seicho cherishes her. The way she cherishes Seicho.

“Hello!” Greets a woman with shaved hair and a pearl in one ear.

“You must be Mikahara.” Azula guesses.

“I am.” She confirms.

“From the sound of it, you’ve made quite an impression tonight.”

Mikahara smiles. “See for yourself, princess.” She hands Azula a box of chocolates. “I heard that you might be here so I saved a little something special for the both of you.”

Seicho’s eyes twinkle. “Oh this is a treasure trove of chocolate!” The woman’s mouth is practically watering.

“Thank you.” Azula replies.

“Of course, princess. I wouldn’t have had this opportunity if not for tonight’s festivities. And we would be having them if not for you.”

Azula nods and slips her a gold coin or two. “We can share this by the water.”

“That sounds great, Azula.” Seicho smiles.

.oOo.

It is quiet here at the shoreline. She has led Seicho a good distance from the jubilant energy of the chocolate tasting stalls and the couples straggling on the sand that is still relatively close to the festivities.

This portion of the beach is, until the sunrises, desolate. Charmingly so. The music and chatter are close enough to be heard but distant enough to be little more than pleasant white noise.

“Tell me the truth, how was it?”

“It was…it was really wonderful, Seicho.” It was nerve-wracking but sublime in its own right. There is a certain charm, a sense of exhilaration and freedom in stepping out of her comfort zone and into something new. Something that is probably better.

Something liberating.

All in all, father had been completely off.

Most people hadn’t even noticed her at all.

And if they had, they opted to give her, her space.

She certainly doesn’t feel like a harlot. Neither does she feel like she has had herself a scandalous evening. She had simply had an evening. Had put on an outfit sewn, very lovingly, by her girlfriend’s mother, and went to a party.

“It is going to be nice to go back to the palace and not get a lecture about carelessness and wasting time.”

“Would he really tell you that today?”

Azula nods. “He would.” She looks out at the open ocean, at those rolling, twinkling waves and clears her throat. “Can we talk about something else or eat some of that chocolate.”

Seicho quirks a brow. “I thought that you said you were full.”

“Mikahara did make that special for me though, it would be a shame to not try it.”

Seicho chuckles.

“It would also make father really unhappy if I were to go visit him in prison and tell him that I spent a whole night eating chocolate and wearing sleeveless outfits…”

“Chocolates and no sleeves? On the beach!? Oh we’re getting really wild and daring now!”

Azula gives a humored sniff and holds a piece of chocolate out to Seicho.

“Very good.” The woman gives a thumbs up. “Try it for yourself.”

Azula cups the woman’s face and brings their lips together. She can indeed taste the lingering chocolate on them. And indeed there is a hint of coconut and pineapple. She holds her face a few inches from Seicho’s, their lips still nearly touch.

“Oh this is an adventurous night.”

“It ought to be.” Azula replies quietly. She needs that so badly. She has needed it for a long time. And she promises herself that this will be only the beginning. That her life is going to be hers from now on. Starting with the way she views herself and her body.

Ending with discovering and following her own hopes and dreams.

“Happy birthday, by the way.” Seicho nudges her.

“I suppose it is.” Azula smiles.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Seicho #Azula/Seicho #Azula/Cupholder Girl #Fanfiction #One Shot

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pwinkprincess · 7 days

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prettiest thing ୨ৎ

you and onyankopon rarely argue. you’re his good girl, you never had a remark or debated with anything he said. he would never tell you anything to hurt you or put you in harm's way which is why you allowed him to be the provider and the thinker of the relationship while you just had to be pretty and spend his money. it’s a dynamic that the both of you liked and preferred. another reason why the dynamic works so well is because onyankopon is naturally dominant, he tends to take over situations without even trying. that goes for both his personal and business life.

you hated when those moments of tranquility between the two of you got interrupted from emotions and overthinking. both you and onyankopon are very secure people, there’s no qualms about attractiveness and if your personalities matched up. but, at the end of day you’re human. and with onyankopon being your first ever serious boyfriend, you sometimes doubted yourself and even worse; him and the relationship. you couldn’t help it! you really couldn’t, you tried to remind yourself that onyankopon has never given you a reason to doubt him but your overthinking didn’t care.

your bottom lip pokes out as your glossy eyes reread the map. onyankopon’s location is nowhere to be found and your man always shares his location with you. most of the time, the roles were reversed and he was very stern about you sharing your location with him 24/7. you couldn’t understand why he’d suddenly stop sharing it with you. your heart thumps heavily in your chest as you instantly start thinking about the worst.

“when’s the last time y’all talked?” zinnia asks. she sits beside you, a look of irritation etched onto her face.

you sniffle as you think back to the last time you talked to onyankopon. he had been driving you home after a long day of running errands. they were more so his errands than yours but you just wanted to be around him so you begged him to let you come with. the day has started off great. the two of you laughed, rapped and sung songs together, the vibes were just right. it was nearing night when onyankopon had gone inside the wingstop to order the two of you food as a completion of the day. while he was inside the restaurant, you were on his phone; scrolling on his facebook. you always claimed his facebook is way more interesting than yours which is why you lurked on people’s accounts through his. as you were reading facebook drama in a very messy comment section, onyankopon’s phone suddenly gets a notification from instagram.

‘you’re welcome handsome’. almost instantly, your hands begin to shake as you press the notification tab. you watch, breathless, as messages pop up from onyankopon and the mystery woman. onyankopon had posted a video of himself on his story. of course he looked good, your man always does. he’s an attractive guy so you had prepared yourself from the beginning to witness women texting and complimenting him. which is fine, but you would've never thought he’d disrespect you by responding back. with a shaky finger, you scrolled to the beginning of the message thread which wasn’t very far.

‘you so fine omggg’ which is something you’ve seen many girls telling him. your eyes focus on what the man had said back,

‘lol preciate it ma 💗’ you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry. ma? a heart? you couldn’t understand why he decided to respond to her in the first place. taking an uneven breath, you locked his phone and threw it down into the cupholder. tears form in your eyes as you stare out of the window, watching as cars of various sizes and colors zoom past the parked car. so many thoughts were racing through your head, you’ve never felt so much betrayal in your life. you sniffle as a few spare tears roll down your face.

when onyankopon returns with two wingstop bags and a holder that had two large cups sitting in it, he’s all smiles. his gold grills glint under the streetlight. he opens the door and sees right away that your attitude has completely changed. he can’t stop the confused expression from forming on his face. he sets the cups into the cupholders and the wingstop bag onto your lap. he doesn’t pull off right away. instead, he sits there for a few moments trying to wreck his brain on what could have possibly gone wrong in the span of about ten minutes.

“what’s wrong, mama?” he asks, cautiously.

you don’t respond, vocally. instead of using your words you just twist your body towards the door and tilt your head completely towards the window. you were so upset with him, just hearing his voice caused you to grow ten times more upset. your sniffles fill the quiet car while onyankopon waits for you to reply to him.

he raises an eyebrow as he comes to the realization that you’re not going to respond to him. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” you were being disrespectful right now and this isn’t like you. he attempts to give you leeway because you have never behaved in such a way before. “talk to me, baby..” he pleads.

and god, when his voice deepens like that and he sounds so needy一you have to remind yourself to stay mad at him. you let out a loud sigh when you decide to look at him.

onyankopon’s heart almost skips a beat when the two of you finally make eye contact and he sees that your eyes are bloodshot red and there are stray tears still threatening to spill. he asks in a tone that shakes, “why you cryin’, mama?”

“c-cause you’re fucking disrespectful.” you cry out. the dam that was straining to hold up broke just by you looking at him.

onyankopon looks at you with wide eyes. he’s never once disrespected you. he’s never called you out of your name, mocked you, spoke condescendingly to you. you two have barely been together for an entire year and he had already gifted you everything and more. he tries to not be offended by your accusation.

“how am i disrespectful?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“how are you not? why the fuck ar-” you’re cut off from onyankopon kissing his teeth.

“stop cursin’, deadass. you can explain yourself without cursin’ like a damn sailor.” his tone doesn't make room for discussion.

you roll your eyes at his statement. onyankopon has always been firm when it comes to your habit of cursing, he always says ‘pretty girls don’t curse’ and tries to catch you every time you let a curse word slip out. right now, you didn’t have the time or patience for his lecturing.

but still, you rephrased yourself. “why are you replying to girls on instagram?” you ask in the most composed manner you can manage.

onyankopon gives you a confused mean mug, “what girls?”

you breath roughly through your nose. “you know what girls, onyankopon.”

onyankopon sighs, “i genuinely don’t, mama.”

you felt like crying from annoyance, why did he feel like now was the time to play? “look on instagram.”

ony grabs his phone and opens instagram. he sees that you had already opened his most recent chat. he reread the messages and viewed the account and quickly realized why you were upset. he stays quiet because he genuinely had no explanation on why he decided to respond to her. of course, he didn’t see her as attractive or anything. he had eyes for you and only you, no other woman could get in between that.

sighing, he set his phone down. he bit down on his lip as he tried to gather the words to tell you. he didn’t compliment her back or completely indulge in her, all he said was that he appreciated the compliment. he didn’t see what was wrong with that.

“look, i know-” he cut himself off as he continued to struggle.

“look at you, fucking struggling to talk cause you know you fucked up.” you spat the words out angrily. your pretty glossy lips are frowned up and onyankopon didn’t like that one bit.

“stop cursin.” he muttered.

“i’m fucking grown, nigga. just like you chose to respond to that bitch, i choose to curse whenever the fuck i want.” you were talking recklessly because you were mad. on an average day, those ugly words would never be spewing from your pretty mouth. also, you would never be talking to your man like this.

“bro chill with yo fuckin’ mouth!” onyankopon ‘s tone rises by a lot. there’s a pointed look in his eyes as he tries to put you in your place.

“me chill? you chill, nigga! fucking disrespectful ass! texting bitches back and calling them ma and shit.. fuck you, nigga!” your voice cracks at the end of your sentence. you weren’t crying out of sadness, you were crying out of anger. truthfully, you wanted to swing off on him but you’ve never thrown a punch in your life and onyankopon would probably choke you the fuck out.

“’m not puttin’ up wit’ dis shit.” onyankopon grumbles. he presses the start button and his car roars to life. “ain’t never called you out yo’ name. ain’t never did shit to hurt you, man. i try to give you the damn world.” your eyes widen when you hear onyankopon’s voice crack throughout his rant, you throw a quick glance at him and have to fight the surprised look on your face when you see his pretty brown eyes glossed over.

you can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “texting other girls and calling them ma is giving me the world?” you chuckle sarcastically. “there’s no telling how many girls you entertain behind my back.”

onyankopon shakes his head while listening to you accuse him. “you can go through my entire fuckin’ phone right now and you ain’t gon’ find shit besides that. i ain’t talk to no other girls since i’ve been knowin’ you.”

“i can’t trust anything you say anymore.” you mutter.

“really? i’ve told you shit about me that i ain’t told no one else. shit about my childhood, about my life, how i became me ‘nd now you can’t trust me..” he lets out a breath that resembles a chuckle while shaking his head. “you’re my world, you’re my fresh breath of air from the streets, ‘nd now the reason why i’m going so hard. pickin’ up new clients, ‘nd putting my life at risk so i can buy you shit ‘nd now you’re sayin’ you can’t trust me anymore. alright, bro.”

you don’t say anything, you only turn your head and look out of the passenger seat window for the remainder of the drive.

onyankopon puts the car in park once he arrives in your driveway. you’re quick to hop out grabbing only your purse. you skim the driveway and realize that your parents aren’t home which you’re grateful for. you don’t have time to be bombarded with questions. while you’re unlocking the front door, you could hear onyankopon’s feet traveling behind you. you almost felt bad for leaving him to carry the bags and cups alone but in the moment of anger, you couldn’t care less if he needed help or not.

you open the door wide enough so that the two of you could step in. you kick your shoes off by the front door while he walks into the dining room and sets the food onto the table. the silence between the two of you is tense, you’ve never been so quiet around him and vice versa.

“‘mma go.” onyankopon suddenly says while looking down at his phone. he’s tapping furiously and his eyebrows are clenched in a way that shows annoyance.

“what? what about our food?” you ask with a frown. you go to stand in front of him. his towering height causes butterflies in your stomach whenever you stand near him.

“eat it or somethin’. i don’t care what you do with it.” he shrugs, finally looking away from his phone. you almost want to cry again. you’ve never heard onyankopon be so disinterested with you. he’s usually always so soft and understanding when he’s around you, so to hear him talk to you like you’re some stranger off the street; more than you'd want to admit, hurts your feelings.

“okay..” you sigh, obviously defeated.

usually, when he’s leaving out he’d litter your face and lips with kisses while telling you he’d be back. but this time he only gives you a brief side hug. “i’ll see you around, _.” your heart absolutely hurts when he uses your government name. when you hear the front door slam shut and the loud cranking from his car, you instantly burst into tears.

“three days ago.” you tell zinnia as your sudden flashback leaves your head. just thinking about what happens causes your eyes to go glossy. you’ve been crying ever since he left you standing in your dining room.

“after that incident?” zinnia asks, nosily.

“i messaged him an hour later.” you tell her. “i-i told him i loved him.. and he.. he just left me on read.” your shoulders shake as you clutch your face, you were so tired of crying but you didn’t know what else to do.

“awe, boo..” zinnia says sympathetically. she quickly clutches you into a hug. the smell of her perfume fills your nostrils as you cry onto her.

“i.. should’ve never said anything.. i should’ve j-just pretended i didn’t see it.” you say through sniffles. regret has been lingering on your heart a lot lately. you’ve been filled with should've, could’ve, and would’ves. your life has consisted of moping around the house and crying in bed.

onyankopon wasn’t exactly giving you the reassurance you desperately needed at the moment and it was causing you to absolutely spiral. you just wished he would at least text you a simple ‘i’m not mad at you’ or something of that sort. you’re aware of the type of lifestyle he lives on a day to day basis, you’re always making sure to pray for him asking for him to be protected as he gets his money in the only way he knows how. and for his location to suddenly go off has you on the absolute edge.

“nah, snookie.” the childhood nickname has you momentarily cringing. “you did the right thing by speakin’ up, boo. you seen bullshit so you spoke on it. what he did was that.. uhm.. what they call it…” she pauses and seems to be deep in thought. “ohh! that manipulation shit.”

you instantly sit up from her arms. “nah, zinnia ‘m not getting manipulated.” your soft voice has a defensive edge to it. “he just felt some type of way ‘cause he does so much for me and i called him out of his name and stuff.” you defend onyankopon way too quickly for someone that ghosted you.

zinnia gives you a look that you can’t exactly read. “whatever you say, boo.” she says. it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you from the way she shakes her while saying it.

“can you just..” you sigh out, the way you were feeling over onyankopon was a feeling you have never felt in your life before. it felt as if your heart was tearing into two pieces and no matter how much you tried to take your mind off of him and the situation, it still replays in your head. “can we cuddle?”

“awe, snooks, of course, boo.” she makes quick work of ashing her blunt and shuffling the two of you so that she could hold you comfortably.

the two of you lay there, silently. your head is adjusted onto her chest, the sound of her heart thumping fills your ears as you lose yourself to your thoughts. so many what ifs are running through your head. your overthinking is almost suffocating you in a way. as you lay there, thinking of the worst you try to rationalize and also think of the good. that was a habit you tended to do. you always tried to see the good in people and every situation. because of your optimism, you were often taken advantage of.

you didn’t purposely upset onyankopon. you felt hurt and as a result you felt the need to hurt. if you had known that bringing up the message, you would have never brought it up. you would rather suffer and not speak on it than to fully stop speaking to onyankopon. it was different, going from spending all your time with someone to not talking for three days straight. this being your first ever serious relationship, you didn’t know what to do. you weren’t sure if you were supposed to blow up his phone or give him time to cool off. all you want is to speak with him and hear his voice, to get reassurance that he’s well and alive, to hear him admit that he isn't angry with you.

you don’t realize it but you somehow doze off in zinnia’s embrace. your soft snores fill her ears and she coos out a soft “awee” while rubbing your back. with her being the older cousin and you not having any siblings, she felt as if it is her duty to help you get through your first heartbreak. she’s been through your shoes many times before; overthinking, crying, getting upset, getting manipulated, she’s gone through it all. as much as she wants to just shake your shoulders and scream for you to gain some sense, she won’t. she has to allow you to maneuver through life with firsthand experience, that includes getting your heartbroken.

she’s known onyankopon for many years, since middle school to be exact. she witnessed the man mature and adopt his doggish ways. to her, you’re too naive for ony. since you’re an only child your parents tended to shield you away from just about everything during your childhood and teen years. their overbearingness has rubbed off on you giving you this innocent curious nature. of course, you get upset and curse but every threat you give off is empty. she knows onyankopon, and she knows that he likes girls like you. girls who are easy to manipulate and have access to. she regrets deeply advising you to come to the party with her. if she would’ve let you stay home, you would’ve never met him.

you’re suddenly awakened by a phone buzzing. you yawn and stretch, your eyes dart to your window and you could see the light from the moon peeking through your opened blinds. you rub your eyes and stretch once more before looking at zinnia’s phone that’s ringing on your nightstand. you reach over her and grab it, once you see that it’s sasha you press the answer button.

“hello?” your voice is scratchy from the hours you went without water.

“snookie?” she asks. by her tone you could tell she’s upset and that causes you to fully wake up. an angry sasha is a scary sasha.

“hi, sash. it’s me.”

“hey, boo. where’s zinnia?” she seems impatient, her words are rushed out.

“beside me, sleeping.” your eyes do a once over on zinnia who’s drooling onto your pillow. her chest heaves while heavy breaths escape through her nose.

“yeah, no. wake her up for me.”

“sash, you kno-” you’re cut off by sasha’s loud sighing into the phone.

“snookie, boo, just listen to me. wake zinnia up and put her on the phone.” she says.

without another word, your hand lands onto her side and you begin shaking zinnia awake. after a minute of repeating her name and shaking her, she finally wakes up. a mean mug is immediately on her face as she rises up from her sleeping position. she stretches, letting out a loud dramatic moan.

“whatchu shaking me for?” her tone is hostile. zinnia absolutely hates being woken up which is why you were hesitant from the beginning.

“sasha wants you.” you hand her her phone, watching as she rolls her eyes before speaking up.

“girl, what you want?” her full lips are pulled into a frown as she listens to whatever sasha says. “wait, who’s story?” she asks while opening instagram. she types on her keyboard for a few seconds and then stops. she goes quiet as she watches whatever sasha told her to watch. you could hear multiple voices and the sound of loud music coming from her phone, you curiously lean over to see and that’s when zinnia quickly tilts her phone. she ignores the confused look you throw to her.

“bro.. ’m gonna fuckin’ kill dis nigga.” zinnia says after a few moments of silence. she puts the phone back up to her ear, her hazel eyes dart to you a few times and then they look away. “brooo, we’re about to throw something cute on. come scoop.” at those words, you’re entirely intrigued. you mouth at her ‘what’ and she only shakes her head and ignores you. “yeah, i thought i saw connie’s baldheaded ass in the background. ‘mma get his ass too.”

once zinnia says her goodbyes, she hangs up and lets out a heavy breath. “snookie, y’know i love you right?” she asks, suddenly.

“yeah. i love you too.” you giggle nervously.

“‘nd i just want you to know you don’t need a nigga for shit as long as i’m livin’ and breathin’.” she continues.

“i hear you.” you reply.

“what ‘m about to show you, you gotta practice me you’re not gonna cry.” she negotiates.

“you know ‘m a crybaby!” you groan with a smile. “i promise you i’ll try to not cry.”

she deems that good enough because she’s hesitantly showing you her phone.some might think you’re being dramatic if they were to hear you say you physically felt your heart break. and you could understand, heartbreak is a literary term and not literal one. however, you were experiencing a heartache at that exact moment. gasping was all you could do as your breathing became trapped in your chest. because you couldn't, you didn't cry. in total shock, you were motionless. you could feel zinnia’s arms wrap around you but it’s almost like a barrier was completely stopping her from touching you, or that’s what it felt like anyway.

your eyes rewatch the screen for what felt like the 100th time. your ony is right there, but so is a woman. she’s bent over in front of him, her ass is pressed against his pelvis. she’s shaking her ass to the beat of the song that’s playing and onyankopon’s hands are clutching her wide hips while she twerks. they both have a big smile on their faces while people in the background hype them. you watch in horror as onyankopon brings a hand up only to quickly bring it down onto her ass. as the video comes to an end, the camera darts to connie who’s obviously drunk, hyping them up the most. he’s pouring a half full bottle of hennessy into onyankopon’s mouth while screaming absolute nonsense out.

“we’re going to get dressed and we’re going to that party. we’re gonna whoop onyankopon, that bitch, and connie’s ass.” zinnia says. her tone is serious and the glare in her eyes tell you that she means every word she’s saying.

“there’s no point, zinnia.” you shrug as tears race down your face. “he’s single, he can do whatever he wants.”

zinnia gives you a look of confusion and irritation. “girl, to hell with that. y’all get into one big augment and now he’s moving like this. we’re not letting this shit slide, bro.” her tone excludes any kind of debate.

it doesn’t feel like you’re there physically when zinnia urges you into the bathroom to clean yourself up a little. you’re zoned out the entire time while brushing your teeth and applying light makeup. your eyes stay glossed over but tears don’t fall. your legs shake like jelly, you feel weak; emotionally and physically. you didn’t know where to go from here. all you wanted at the moment was for ony to come over and hold you while kissing your head and promising you everything would be alright like he usually does. the person that hurt you is the person you’re craving the most.

zinnia is sympathetic the entire time the two of you get dressed. you didn’t want to go confront ony, honestly. you just wanted to lay in bed and rot away. the thought of being in an outside setting at this current moment seemed draining. what would you even say to him? there isn’t even anything to say to him.

everything moves too fast and sasha pulls up in front of your house sooner than you wanted her to. an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you look over your outfit. a pink spaghetti strap sleeveless dress hugs your figure, loudly emphasizing every curve you have. you couldn’t even feel pretty if you wanted to, your mind goes back to the woman that was twerking on ony and your heart quivers. the way he grabbed her hips, the same way he did that one night where he had you chanting his name like a prayer. you let out a breath and quickly look away from the mirror.

zinnia leads you through the living room where your mother is sitting in the living room watching judge judy in a nightgown she's had since you were born. meanwhile, your father sits exactly beside her, playing pool on his phone. “ohh, where y’all going?” your mother asks.

you can’t find it in you to talk and zinnia seems to quickly catch on to that. “we’re gonna go pop at this party right quick.” she tells her.

your mother’s eyes dart from your head to your toes. her eyes go back to your face and she can instantly tell something isn’t right with her daughter. she decides she’ll wait until it’s just the two of you to comment on it. “y’all be safe ‘nd stay together. if one has to go to the bathroom, the other follows in tow.” your mother lectures.

you both agree to her words and walk out of the house. you could feel her eyes burning a hole into your back but you refuse to turn around. if you were to break down crying, she would immediately forbid you from going out tonight. that’s one of the difficult parts of being an only child. your parents sometimes get too overbearing without even meaning to. privacy is something you just started getting once you turned 18. you still remember the way your mother almost fainted when the two of you were having girl talk and you had admitted that you and ony had sex for the first time. you still haven’t forgiven her for running back to your father and telling her, he had given you the cold shoulder for two weeks. as much as your parents could be a handful, their intentions were never bad. you’re their only child so they tend to shield you a bit too much because of that.

when you enter the backseat of sash’s pink wrapped dodge charger, the smell of weed immediately hits your nose. your nose scrunches in reflex. you absolutely despise the smell of weed, it’s too strong for your liking.

“wassup, bitches!” sasha greets the two of you. sexyy red plays lowly, she had gotten those overdramatic speakers installed so the bass was almost overpowering.

“pass the blunt, hoe.” zinnia rolls her eyes.

“hi, sasha.” you greet with a slight smile that almost hurts to put on your face.

“you okay, bookie?” she tilts all the way in her seat so that she could make eye contact with you. her almost cracks seeing the redness in your eyes. “we gon’ get shit straight. trust. when i see connie and ony ‘m punching them dead in their shit.”

zinnia quickly agrees as she lights the blunt up. you let out a soft laugh, “y’all there’s no reason to get violent.”

she inhales for a few seconds before letting out a large cloud of smoke. “yeah, okay.” she says sarcastically.

sasha pulls off, the song f my baby dad and instantly sasha turns the music up. both her and zinnia begin screaming the lyrics.

“my nigga actin’ up so you know ‘m finna pop it!” zinnia screams to no one in particular.

“y’all,” sasha turns the music down once she gets to a red light, “me and connie had our first pregnancy scare some weeks ago.”

both you and zinnia shook your heads at her words. you truthfully were surprised that sasha wasn’t on her second child with connie, from the extreme stories she told the two of you about her love life, it’s only a wonder that she isn’t carrying.

“girl! why you shaking your head?! a lil’ birdie told me that ony had to buy your lil ass a plan b!” sasha looks at you through the rearview mirror.

your eyes immediately dart towards zinnia, she’s the only person you disclosed that information to. zinnia quickly turns the music up, pretending she didn’t hear sasha’s accusation.

when sasha parks near the house that’s throwing the party, you feel so afraid that you immediately want to throw up. you were doing good not crying but reality seems to settle in and you realize you’re actually about to confront ony. a lump forms in your throat that you struggle to swallow down. you’re looking out of the window, at the house. you’re so caught up in your head that you don’t realize both zinnia and sasha are looking at you in worry.

you’ve been anxious since a child. you’re the ‘come with me’ friend. it’s something you hated. there’s been numerous times you’ve wished and prayed that anxiety didn’t control your life. you struggled extremely with confrontation. maybe that’s why you and ony got along so well. you never questioned him or any of that sort. you prefer to sit back and watch rather than being in the spotlight, being perceived. that goes for family, friends, and strangers. you weren’t even tearing up from what ony did, while that did have a part in your tears, you were more so dreading the thought of speaking up to him.

“you okay, snookie?” zinnia asks, worriedly.

you inhale sharply, “y-yeah. can we just.. get this over with, please?”

they both share a glance before agreeing. the three of you exit the car, the sounds of purses, bracelets and y’all’s slide sandals sync as you walk towards the house.

“we’re so bad.” sasha sighs while looking over the three of you to make sure you all looked good.

once you enter the house, you’re immediately blinded by flashing lights. the air is hot and humid as numerous people rub against each other. loud speakers blast rap music and you could faintly hear people rapping along with the rapper. alcohol, weed, and sweat fills your nose making you internally gag. this is the second party you’ve ever came to and you want to leave right away. sasha grabs zinnia’s hand, and zinnia grabs your hand. sasha leads you three to the kitchen that’s only filled with a few people. out of the corner of your eye, you could see a couple sloppily making out against the refrigerator.

“here.” sasha hands you a small glass that is filled with something clear. “take a shot or two and loosen up.”

following her instructions, you take two shots straight. bile rises and you have to swallow it causing you to gag. you feel your body shiver as you attempt to digest the alcohol. you take a gulp from the red bull that zinnia gives you, trying to ease the burning sensation in your throat.

“they’re all in the livin’ room, i seen them all huddled up and shit.” sasha comments while holding a cup in her hand.

“les go.” zinnia doesn’t waste any time making her way over to them.

you follow the girls along with legs that feel like jelly. the closer you come to the group, the faster your heart beats inside your chest. when you're just a few steps away, the scent of weed hits you powerfully.

“ohhh!” connie screams once he sees the three of you walk up. “we got zinnia in da housseeeeeee! ohhh shitttt! y’all don’ got itty bitty’s ass to get out of daaa houseeee! whaaaatttt! oh, ‘nd sasha is here too.. i guesssss.” connie is obviously intoxicated as he slurs over his words.

immediately, the rest of the guys' heads snap in y'all's direction. you somehow hear armin let out a “oh lord” once he sees the expressions on sasha and zinnia’s faces.

“connie shut that shit up, boy! what that hell are you screaming for?!” sasha wastes no time grabbing connie by his shirt.

“unhand me you beast!” connie screams dramatically.

sasha rolls her eyes at connie’s antics. her eyes dart from face to face until they land on ony, who’s sitting there manspreading. there’s an uninterested look on his face as he views your trio before his eyes locate onto you and you only. eye contact that you haven’t held in three days. that lazy head tilt and seeing his full lips pressed straight, you have to force yourself to look elsewhere. you refuse to get sucked into his hypnotizing eyes once again.

“you. stand up, i wanna fight.” she tells ony.

ony looks at her boredly, his eyes are glossed and lidded. “sasha, gone somewhere, man.” “beat her ass, ony. ‘m too scared t’do it.” connie says from his grasp in sasha’s hand.

ony's eyes dart over to you. there's a look on his face that makes your knees almost buckle. your heart speeds up in your chest and you can tell from the shift in the atmosphere that something is about to pop off.

#5k wdc #idk abt dis one yall #pls do leave feedback i might private this #pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #aot ପ૮๑ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ๑ აଓ #ᡣ𐭩 #aot onyankopon #ony x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #onyankapon #aot x black reader #aot x reader

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minasweep · 2 years

Text

being a drink girl is actually a struggle how do u do it

#i unintentionally became a drink girl w like 3 drinks yk what theres not enough cupholders #mina mumbles #im a singular treat girl its easier 2 carry #had 2 down my water im not strong enough

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wintfleur · 3 months

Note

so stella is anemic, what if one of her brothers finds her passed out bc of it

౨ৎ passing out spells and a misinformed quinny

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X brother! Quinn Hughes )

°. — details ( g; i honestly don’t know. w; Stella passing out, I think that’s all. wc; 1.6k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( thank you so much for requesting !!! So sorry that it took so long to get out, I’ve never written something like this before so I hope the passing out scene isn’t to cringe. I hope you guys enjoy it, please don’t be a silent reader !!! )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

Stella loved how peaceful early mornings were at her brother's lake house, especially when she had the house to herself. Luke was staying with some friends for the weekend, Jack was out doing God knows what, and Quinn decided to wake up early and go to a rink close by to do some laps. After making sure Stella was okay with being home alone, she was having a rough week, her energy was low, and she was basically napping and relaxing all week.

Stella was curled up on the couch watching Gilmore girls and eating, well more like picking at some cherries when Quinn kissed her forehead and said he would be back soon. Shouting out a ‘i love you’ before he left. Stella mumbled back an i love you as her tired eyes were focused on the big tv, watching as dean and Rory argue for what felt like the 10th time this episode.

She was currently rewatching the show with Luke, so she was stuck rewatching the earlier episodes since Luke was adamant of them watching it together. Stella yawned and brought the blanket she was cuddled up in up to her shoulders, she honestly wasn't sure whose blanket it was, it was already on the couch.

Stella watched 3 more episodes of Gilmore girls before she started to get stir crazy and hot under the blanket. She pushed the blanket off her legs and sat up from laying down, she searched for the remote and paused the tv in the middle of the theme song. She blinked a few times and let out a heavy breath, starting to feel a little nauseous. Maybe it was the smell of cherries? She thought as she looked down at the bowl filled with cherries on the coffee table.

Stella always got really nauseous whenever she was on her period, like now. She grabbed the bowl and got up from the couch, too quickly as she saw white spots in her vision. Stella ignored the nausea and the dizzy feeling she was used to and slowly walked out of the living room and into the kitchen to put the cherries in the fridge.

She held onto the corner of the island counter after she put away the cherries, the dizzy feeling was much worse and the pounding in the back of her head became unbearable. Stella winced at the pounding in her head, closing her eyes and hoping that it would help. She felt that familiar fear of passing out, she slowly walked back into the living room, her legs and hands trembling.

She grabbed onto the edge of the couch as she tried to lean against it, but she felt her knees become weak and her grip on the couch slip, her eyes roll back as she collapses on the living room floor with a thump. The last thing on her mind was that she was alone.

Quinn hums along to the song playing on the radio channel Stella had put on the last time she was in the car with him, he wasn't sure what the song was, but he had heard Stella listen to it many times. His car would almost always turn into Stella's whenever they were together, her things in the backseat, her ChapStick or lip glosses in the cup holders. He wasn't complaining though, he missed it when he was away.

He drove into the driveway and shut off his car, sliding his keys into his pocket and grabbing the cherry ChapStick in the cupholder that he remembered Stella complained to Cole about her losing it. He slid it into his pocket before getting out of the car and going to the trunk to grab his hockey bag. He gets his keys out his pocket and locks the car as he walks up to the front door and unlocks the door, a sigh of relief leaving his lips now that he's home.

Quinn closes the door behind him and drops his hockey bag near the front door, tossing his keys on the island counter in the kitchen. He was confused when he didn't hear the sound of the tv, but then again maybe she went up to her room. “Stella, I'm home!” Quinn shouts out and he gets no answer, he knows she could be sleeping but he got a weird feeling in his chest that something was wrong.

Quinn set the water bottle he pulled out of the fridge on the counter and made his way out of the kitchen and into the living room. Quinn's eyes drop to the floor of the living room and his eyes widen in fear and worry when he sees his sister's heart patterned socks peeking out from in front of the couch. Quinn quickly made his way around the crouch, and he dropped to his knees at Stella's side when he saw her unconscious on the ground.

“Stella? Estella, can you hear me?” Quinn frantically spoke loudly, his tone filled with worry as he quickly but gently rolled Stella to lay on her back, one of his hands on the back of his littles sister's head as he tilted it back to clear her airways. His heart was almost beating out of his chest as he tried to remember all the steps of helping someone who's unconscious.

He turned his body to reach and grab a pillow off the couch to put under Stella's legs but quickly turns back to his little sister when he hears the weak groan leaving her pale pink lips. Quinn brought his hands to cup stella’s face, gently forcing her to open her eyes as he rubbed his thumbs on her cheeks “Hey, hey stella can you hear me ⸺ c’mon open your eyes.”

“Oww” Stella sleepily whined out as she gained full consciousness. She was confused, she had no idea what was going on or what happened. All she knew was that her head was killing her, and her ass was numb. Stella slowly fluttered her eyes open, a wince leaving her lips at the bright light of the living room. Stella blinked a few times trying to get used to the light, Stella's hand gripped onto the fur of the rug, and she tried to flatten her palm to lift herself up from the uncomfortable floor.

“Not so fast, it's okay just lay back down” Quinn spoke softly as he grabbed a pillow from the couch and slipped it under her head so she could rest it comfortably. Quinn kept his eyes on his little sister, they were still filled with worry. Stella groans and rests her head on the pillow looking up at her brother as she whispers, “What happened?”

“Looks like you passed out ⸺ when were you gonna tell me you could do that hmm?” Quinn jokes with a weak smile, knowing that Stella would panic the more she thought of it. Stella sniffles and tries to smile at her brother's attempt to make her feel better, she was starting to remember what had happened. She replied quietly “Thought I’d surprise ya”

“Consider me surprised” Quinn sighed, he gently moved some of Stella's hair out of her face before he stood up. “Don't move okay, I'm going to get your iron pills and something for you to drink.”

Stella weakly nodded and watched as her big brother rushed into the kitchen. Stella waited for a few moments before she tried again to sit up, this time she was much more successful. Stella groaned quietly as she slowly stood up and sat on the couch, pulling the blanket over her lap and closing her eyes. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Stella chanted in her head as she did her breathing exercise, hoping that it would help with the pounding in her head.

“I told you not to move ⸺ they say you have to lay down for 10 minutes” Quinn groaned as he walked into the living room to see stella snuggled up on the couch, of course she didn't listen to him. ‘They’ being the internet. Quinn had scoured the internet for as much information he could get about Stella's anemia and what to do if she passed out when she was diagnosed.

“They also say you shouldn't put a pillow under someone's head after they pass out” Stella says matter-of-factly as she looks up at her brother who was holding out a cold glass of orange juice, the other hand holding two iron pills.

“What? ⸺ and you're just telling me this now?” Quinn gaped as Stella took the glass and pills into her hands. Stella rolled her eyes and swallowed the two pills with a big mouthful of orange juice. She looks up at her brother who was giving her an unimpressed look, he took her health and safety very seriously. Stella gave him an innocent smile and just simply shrugged “It was a really comfy pillow.”

“Where are you going?” Stella questioned him as he shook his head in disbelief and turned around to walk out of the living room, his hands on his hips as he dramatically walked out. All of her brothers were so damn dramatic . . . but so was she. She hears Quinn shout his answer from the kitchen and the sound of him unzipping his bag for his phone “Going to call mom and tell her you haven't been taking your pills.”

“They also say you shouldn't put me through any stress or yell at me” Stella shouted back with a playful smile, she took another sip from the glass while she picked up the remote and started looking for something new to watch. Already feeling much better.

“Now you're just making shit up!” Quinn shouted back with a roll of his eyes, knowing that his little sister was just teasing him. Quinn paused his movement of searching up their moms contact when he heard the faint sound of her laughter, a smile coming across his lips when he heard her sassily shout a reply.

“It's completely true and reasonable!”

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( THIS. IS. SO. BAD. IM. GONNA. SCREAM. 😄 )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @prettyboywoll @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨👩🏻‍🎨୧˚ stella hughes au!#💌stellahughes!#hockey #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #vancouver canucks #qh43 #jh86 #lh43 #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers #hughes!sister #hughes sister #nhl blurb #nhl imagine

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writtenbymoonflower · 4 months

Text

Shaken Soda

You have therapy and Remus is too kind. Remus Lupin x fem!reader. mondern!au

cw: mentions of therapy/mental health issues. Slight mention of unintentional self injury.

780 words

“Thank you, see you next week.” You muttered politely, exiting the small visiting room.

“See you then.” Your therapist smiled warmly at you. You appreciated the gesture, but wrapped your arms around your middle protectively anyway.

"Bye." The word was just barely a whisper as you turned to walk down the hall, but you were interrupted.

“Oh by the way, we covered a lot today. I’m proud of you, Y/N. Just, make sure to look after yourself extra.” They gave another polite nod and skirted back into their office. You gave a tight-lipped smile at the now closed door before walking down the hall to the waiting area, dreading the walk home in the pouring rain and shivering cold. You pulled the hood of your coat over your head before checking your phone, stalling.

Hey, dovey. It’s pretty nasty out so I’m going to come pick you up. Be there when you get out. x

You were equal parts grateful and distressed. Happy you wouldn’t be soaked down to your bones, but worried about your boyfriend seeing you in such a raw state. You checked the mirror by the entryway, wiping away mascara residue and pressing your cold hands to your cheeks in a desperate attempt to reduce the redness splotching over your eyes and nose.

Though Remus would likely see through any attempts at sweeping your struggles under the rug, he was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for.

You listened to the ding of the bell as you swung the door open, walking under the awning to where Remus’ black car was parked. You opened the door, being hit with a wave of toasty AC.

“Hi lovely.” His amber eyes greeted you with their usual warmth. (Warmth that was pretty much reserved for you).

“Hey Remmy.” You said, much to quiet and reserved for his liking, leaning over the center console to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the spin. You didn’t have to drive in the rain.” Your comment earned an eye roll from Remus, though he was still smiling as he pulled out onto the road.

“Don’t. I get to spend extra time with you, and I’ll never complain about that.” He placed a large hand on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh there. “Almost forgot,” He reached into the cupholder. “Got this for you.” You were handed a to-go cup full of coffee. Your favorite. You swore you could sob all over again.

“Rem… You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Anyway it wasn’t completely selfless, I was craving a fog.” You still looked at him all glossy and doe eyed.

“Thank you.” Your voice was so small. It was only when he looked over at you that he noticed your swollen features and red-rimmed eyes. He could swear there were burns on your cheeks from the scratchy material of your sleeves after being rubbed and wiped raw and cruelly.

“You doin’ okay, sweet girl?” He tried hard to keep his eyes on the road and stop a notch of concern from appearing between his dark eyebrows, knowing it would only push you more into your shell.

“Yeah, ‘m okay.” You picked at your nails. Remus took a deep breath.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” He started and you tried to keep from wincing. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him or didn’t want to tell him what you had discussed, the emotions it brought up, but you knew that when you cracked the lid on your frayed feelings, everything would come out all at once. Tears, murmured fears and all. You were like a pop bottle that had been violently shaken, one wrong move and a mess would be everywhere. “But I want you to know I’m proud of you.” He checked the road around him before making brief eye contact with you. “Really, really proud. I know it can be scary. But also, please know, I’m here if you every need to talk about anythin’. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

You nodded as he turned onto your street. You were still feeling raw, but you could feel it subsiding, just by being in his presence. “I know you do.” You looked over at him as he pulled up to your place and put the car in park. It didn’t take many long for you to unclick your seatbelt, leaning over your drinks and wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly. Remus stiffened in surprise, but then hugged you back, smoothing his hands up and down your thick coat. “Thank you.” You whispered into his neck.

“It’s what I’m here for, lovely. I’m always gonna be here.”

#drabble #marauders #marauders fanfiction #fluff #marauders era #marauders fandom #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin #hurt/comfort #remus lupin hurt/comfort #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb

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alyswritings · 4 days

Text

Car Video

Request: Hiii can I request sturniolo triplets x sister reader she is like 5 or 6 they are doing a car video they asked her questions and they asked who is her favorite triplets is and she says matt and then Chris says a bad word the reader repeat it thank you love your page

Sturniolo Triplets x sister!reader

Summary: Y/N is in a car video with her brothers.

Warnings: none.

a/n: thanks for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Matt pulls into the parking spot in the fairly deserted parking lot and he puts the car in park.

Chris deals with setting up the camera while Matt passes out the food they got.

"Okay. You ready?" Nick asks his baby sister.

"Uh-huh." She vigorously nods, stuffing a whole chicken nugget in her mouth.

"Hey, be careful before you choke." Matt warns, earning a nod from the girl.

"'Kay. We're recording." Chris says, putting the camera up on the dashboard. Matt gets out to check if it's in focus, getting back in once he looks.

"All right. Hey, guys. Today, we have a very special guest for the car video. We have, our little sister, Y/N." Nick introduces, motioning to the girl.

"Hi." The five year old waves and grins at the camera, earning soft laughs from her three brothers.

"We've done this type of video before with our parents and with Justin where we ask them questions and that's what we're gonna be doing with Y/N/N." Nick explains.

"Be honest, munchkin." Chris warns making her nod.

"Okay. We can start off easy. What's your favorite color?" Matt asks, scrolling through his phone.

"Dark purple." Y/N answers. "But sometimes green. Orange is fun, too."

"Okay, so three favorite colors, got it." Nick says.

"What's your favorite movie?" Chris asks.

"Tangled." The girl immediately lights up at the thought of the animated movie. "Mommy won't let me get a chameleon or a horse." She pouts.

"Maybe when you're older." Nick lightly pats her on the head. "Who's your best friend?"

"Natalie." Y/N grins. "We play Barbies and dress up and she has a doggy, too. He's really big."

"Bigger than you?" Chris asks and the girl nods.

"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" Matt asks.

"Cheerio." Y/N answers. "She said her sister named him when she was a little kid and they got him as a puppy."

"Okay, here's a good one." Chris smiles. "Who's your favorite brother?"

"Matty." Y/N answers with almost no hesitation.

"What?!" Chris exclaims.

"Wha--" Nick frowns at her.

"All right!" Matt grins, reaching back and giving her a high five.

"That's so mean." Nick scoffs.

"What do you mean it's Matt?" Chris asks.

"You asked." The five year old shrugs, not seeing the issue.

"Why does he get to be the favorite?" Nick asks.

"Cause he always says yes when I ask him to play and he lets me sleep in his bed when I get bad dreams. And he takes me to get ice cream." Y/N explains.

"We let you sleep in our beds." Nick says. "We bring home ice cream. We play with you."

"You two say no a lot more than him. Plus, he's the best at play pretend." Y/N pouts. "And I like car rides. You don't take me on car rides."

"All right." Chris rolls his eyes. "We get it. Matt's the favorite."

"Yeah, moving on." Nick says.

They continue to ask her questions, Y/N going into random rambles at times.

"Fuck!" Chris hisses when his knee hits the dashboard.

"Chris!" His brothers scold as Y/N giggles.

"What?" He asks.

"5 year old present, you idiot." Matt smacks him in the arm.

"You want some more fries?" Nick asks, holding the carton out to his sister, distracting her from the two arguing up front. Y/N nods, grabbing a few of the fries and starting to eat them.

Y/N gasps as the fries fall out of her hold and onto the floor.

"Fuck!" She cries out.

"Chris!" Matt scolds.

"Shit." Nick whispers, rubbing his face.

"Whoops." Chris mumbles, struggling not to laugh.

"Mom's gonna kill you." Nick says. He glances down as Y/N leans over to the cupholder to take a sip of her drink. He puts the fries in the other cupholder, giving her easy access to them.

"Y/N, you can't say that word." Matt tells her.

"Why?" She frowns. "Chrissy said it."

"It's an adult word. You're not an adult." Nick tells her.

"That's stupid." She grumbles, slouching in her seat and crossing her arms over a chest, pouting. The triplets quietly laugh, trying to hold it in so they don't upset her.

"Trust me, kid, you don't wanna grow up too fast." Chris tells her.

"Whatever." She huffs.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x sister reader #chris sturniolo x sister reader #matt sturniolo x sister reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x sister reader

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tboygareth · 1 year

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here, have a little modern steddie meet-cute. meet-ugly, maybe? idk. 1k words, mostly dialogue

"uber for, uh," the guy in the beemer at the curb looks at the phone in his hand, "eddie m.?"

"hey, that's my name!" eddie shouts, stumbling toward the car. the world is tipping sideways a little, but it's been a good night.

he wrenches open the passenger side door and slides in.

"cool if i sit up front, man? i get motion sickness sitting in the back, and you would not like me when i'm motion sick."

"uh, sure?"

eddie pulls the door closed behind him and says, "so what's your name, pretty boy?"

"you don't check the app before getting into some random guy's car?" the guy asks with a huff.

"oh, no, i never order these things for myself." eddie laughs. he tries to think back, remember how many jameson shots he put back tonight. can't. oh, well. "my roommate always sets it up beforehand when i come down to the styx for a show."

"a show? like a concert?"

"uh, no. drag show. styx is a gay bar." the guy's quiet at that. "that a problem? still dunno your name."

"oh. steve," the guy - steve - says shortly. "no, it just... looks more like a... metal bar, or something."

"sometimes things are both, can you believe it! they do a drag show last wednesday of every month. good show tonight, all the girls looked great." he kicks his feet up on the dashboard of the car, watches steve's eyes cut sideways at them as he does. "do you like drag shows, steve?"

he's testing the waters, feeling steve out to see if he should be worried about getting into some random guy's car outisde a gay bar with a dead phone. eddie's definitely had a little too much tonight. he's probably got glitter in his hair. there's definitely black lipstick smeared across his cheek from when allison chaynz planted one on him earlier during her set.

"only been to a few, but yeah. they're a good time. good show."

safe, then. tentatively.

eddie studies steve for a moment, trying to figure him out. he's got this thing he does sometimes, in an uber; eddie's an easy read - he gets into an uber and the driver immediately flips their spotify over to a metal playlist.

the driver's are usually easy to read too, and it's eddie's favorite game; he tends to know when he's got a country boy behind the wheel, or an emo transplant from the mid aughts, or the indie girlies with their iced coffees and perpetual dark undereye circles that all the concealer in the world can't hide.

the guy looks like he wears teenage boy deodorant and smells like repressed trauma. he has the indie girlie dark circles under his eyes, an apple watch strapped to his wrist. rich boy. drives a beemer. good hair, stupid highlights. there's a tube of burt's bees cherry lip balm in the center console and a days old energy drink in the cupholder.

"hmmm, the front bottoms," he decides at last, after staring at steve for what must have been an uncomfortably long time.

"i'm sorry?"

"i said, the front bottoms."

"is that a... what's the word... a euphemism?"

"no, steeeeve. it's a band. check 'em out sometime, your daddy issues'll thank you. do you like music, steve?"

"sure."

eddie clicks his tongue. "smells like bullshit. no one who likes music says sure when someone asks if they like music."

they're stopped at a stoplight. from behind the wheel, steve is studying him right back, looking him up and down, his gaze coming to rest once again on eddie's shoes on the dash.

"get your feet down," steve says, pushing at eddie's shins. "do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"fine, fine. so if you don't listen to music, steve, what do you listen to in this fancy bmw?"

"sports, mostly," steve shrugs. "podcasts sometimes."

"oh, boy, you are a walking red flag, aren't you? shame you're so pretty."

"well what about you? what do you listen to?"

"guess."

"i dunno, probably that metal shit. five finger whatever, or something."

eddie presses his hand to his chest. "five finger - oh, stevie, i am wounded. i wouldn't be caught dead listening to bro rock."

out of the corner of his eye, he definitely catches a smile from steve.

steve holds an aux cable out to him. "here, then. wow me. show me some real metal or whatever."

"god, i'd love to take you up on that," eddie says, huffing out a little laugh. he holds his phone up. "this sucker's been dead for hours."

this time steve's the one to click his tongue. "shame."

"truly. so what's your story, steven? what's got you out at three in the morning?"

"it's my night off," steve shrugs. "just started night shift at the hospital, trying to get used to the new sleep schedule."

"mmm, the hospital. you a nurse?"

"i am. trauma nurse."

"nice. ever see any gnarly injuries?"

"had a pretty fucked up dog bite come in the other night."

"shit."

"yeah." another stoplight, another unsubtle once over from steve. "so what about you? what do you do?"

"line cook."

steve's eyes linger on him a little longer than necessary. "oh, but i'm the walking red flag. got it."

"whoa," eddie laughs. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i've dated line cooks. everyone's dated a line cook."

"sounds like something a slut would say, steve. craziest dick you've ever had, huh?"

"mmm."

it's not a denial.

they're getting close to eddie's building now, and that's an actual shame. because steve's cute. he needs a haircut maybe, and the stubble around his mouth and chin is just on the wrong side of five o'clock shadow, but he's got these distracting little moles along his face and neck and arm that eddie's been itching to play connect the dots with since he got in the car.

"wait, i know this building," steve says as he slows at the curb and looks at the address on his phone again. "my roommate's girlfriend lives in this building."

it clicks into place, then, for eddie.

"oh, shit! you're robin's steve!"

steve's eyebrows draw together as he gapes at eddie, and then his eyes go wide with realization. "chrissy's ed?"

"eddie," he corrects. "gotta be a level twenty friend to call me ed. and chrissy's the only level twenty friend i'll ever have."

"noted. good to finally meet you, man. i, uh. i guess this is you, then, huh?"

"yeah, sure is. maybe i'll see ya around." eddie goes to get out of the car.

"oh, you will," steve says, his smile lopsided and goofy. "i'll make sure of it."

"hold ya to it," eddie promises with a wink.

steve wiggles his fingers in a flirtatious wave as eddie walks backward on the sidewalk toward his building.

so robin's steve is cute. maybe he should have been letting chrissy set them up this whole time.

still. sports and podcasts. guy's a walking red flag. who knows, maybe they're green. eddie's never been able to see the difference anyway.

#steddie #steddie fic #bee's blurbs #idk what this is honestly #it came to me in a vision #buckingham #if you squint

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radiant-reid · 1 year

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Reader drunk calling Spencer to pick her up from girls night and the entire way home she keeps hitting on him and trying to seduce him but they just started sleeping together snd he’s a consent king so he keeps saying no even tho it’s getting harder and harder to resist and eventually she starts crying and he’s like “what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself?” And she is sobbing going “my boyfriend my super sexy amazing boyfriend doesn’t think I’m hot” and he’s frantically shaking his head while blushing bc she called him sexy and she’s like “if I’m so hot why won’t you sleep with me? Do you think sex with me is bad?”

All you want to do is talk to Spencer. Honestly, it's slightly pathetic, and you'd be calling Penelope, JJ, or Emily whipped if all they could talk about was their boyfriend.

Still, Spencer isn't like anyone else.

He picks up within two rings. "Y/n, what's wrong?" The panic in his voice is typical for someone with your jobs.

"Nothing, nothing." You assure his worries, running a hand through your hair. "Sorry for calling so late."

"Or early." He laughs slightly. "Aren't you meant to be out with the girls?"

"Yeah, we went back to Penelope's." You inform him, shuffling on your feet on the balcony. The cool DC air feels good on your warm skin. "I just- I wanted to talk to you."

You can almost hear the smile on his face. "Do you want me to come get you?" He offers.

"I was about to call an Uber home." You inform him.

Spencer's already climbing out of bed, grabbing his glasses from the side table since he's not going to waste time putting contacts in. "No, don't." He tells you while he rustles around, jumping into some pants so he doesn't end up in front of his colleagues in his underwear before grabbing his keys and wallet and slipping into some shoes. "I'm coming to get you. You can't get an Uber this late."

He knows you can kick ass, and you know he knows, but you appreciate how much he cares and wants to keep you out of potential danger. "Okay, thank you." You say before hanging up.

Thanks to the clear roads, he's there in seven minutes, and you quickly say goodbye to the girls once you see his car on the street, not worried about their teasing.

Spencer gets out of the car, waving up at Penelope's window and helping you into the car. It's good that he does because you're so drunk you can't walk properly. "You okay?" He asks. "I brought water." He nods to the bottle in the cupholder.

"You're the best." You tell him, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "Love it when you wear your glasses, you know?" You ask rhetorically, sliding your hand onto his knee. "You look so hot."

He shakes his head. "Y/n." He warns.

"What, baby?" You ask, experimentally moving your hand further up. "You deserve a proper thank you for being so valiant."

"Words are enough." He assures you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road as he moves your hand up to kiss the back of it. "Want me to drive you to your place?" He offers, although he's taking the correct turns to get to his place.

You shake your head quickly. "No, please, I want to sleep with you." You say, hoping he catches the double entendre.

He just nods, driving back to his place while you sit there in silence.

You're determined to get what you want, and your efforts don't stop when you get into his apartment. He grants you a quick kiss that you quickly deepen.

Spencer pulls away. "You taste like rum... white rum."

"Mm, good spot." You compliment him, running your hand down his chest. Spencer pulls back when you go to kiss him again. "What? You drink mojitos."

"Baby, you're drunk." He reminds you.

"And hot for you." You add, pressing your hips to his. He's not hard at all, but you're not going to let your momentary disappointment take over. "Come on, Spence. I want to have sex."

He cups your cheeks, shaking his head. "I can't do it." He tells you.

You bite down on your lip to avoid crying, but you desperately want to be out of his gaze. Never has anyone rejected you, let alone Spencer, who has always been eager to have sex with you. "I need to use to bathroom."

"I'll bring you some water." He tells you, moving away and letting you scurry away.

You cry as soon as you're behind closed doors. It would be stupid, but you've had enough to drink that the smallest thing feels like it could set you over the edge, and Spencer rejecting you is the worst ending to your night.

After a few minutes, Spencer taps on the door. "Hey, are you alright?"

"Mhm." You answer through sobs.

"Y/n, please, I can hear you crying." He begs, sounding sad himself, and you hate that you made him feel like that. "Talk to me. I can help."

Quickly, you feel angry, throwing the door open and meeting your boyfriend's soft eyes. "You can help? How could you possibly fix that you're not attracted to me?" You ask him, furious tears still spilling out of your eyes.

Somehow, his face softens more. "What, baby? What made you think that?" He asks.

"You can't have sex with me because you don't think I'm hot anymore." You complain. "And you're so hot, and now that you're not attracted to me, this will never work."

Spencer pulls you over to sit on the edge of the bed before sitting next to you. "I think you're the most gorgeous person in the world." He assures you. "You're beautiful, pretty, sexy, cute, and, of course, hot. I said I can't have sex with you because I can't, not because you've done anything wrong or because I don't find you incredibly attractive." He reminds you. "You've had enough white rum that I can taste it, and it wouldn't be right for me to have sex with you because you can't consent."

"Oh." You say, blush filling your cheek at being so wrong.

"Hey, hey, don't do that." He says softly. "Don't be embarrassed."

You sigh. "You're so sweet, you know?"

"It's the bare minimum." He reminds you. "Do you want to sleep?"

You nod. "Please... and there will be sex in the future when I'm sober."

He laughs at you, kissing you on the lips. "I'll eagerly await it."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds

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ddejavvu · 8 months

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Hi! If you are up for it and feel inspired: maybe Jake let’s his girl decorate the passenger seat in his car (I feel like he would have a pickup truck but literally any car works) because she is his certified passenger princess. I can see her adding a ton of cute little things to her seat/area that just make it pink and comfy and Jake still being like “that’s not enough, add more”, because he wants her to be happy and comfy and he loves looking over at the seat and being reminded of her?

The stare that Jake gives Fanboy when the man tries climbing into the passengers seat of his truck has the potential to raze a city to the ground. It's withering, condescending, and Fanboy feels frozen by it.

"Uh-"

"What are you doing?" Jake asks, his hands poised on the wheel. Fanboy had thought his behavior was somewhat self-explanatory - getting into the car? - but he suddenly can barely speak under the weight of Jake's gaze. He lets his eyes drop instead to the seat, formerly covered in black fabric and now shrouded in pink. There's a blanket tucked beneath the glove box, a silicon cupholder affixed to the door, a pillow strapped to the headrest, and candy - pink starburst- waiting on the dashboard.

Fanboy only has one guess, and he hopes it's the right one: "Is this seat saved for your girlfriend?"

"Well those aren't your panda bear slippers on the floor, are they?" Jake drawls, and Fanboy resists the urge to roll his eyes if only to avoid getting abandoned in the parking lot of his apartment complex.

"I'll get in the back," He grumbles, shutting the door perhaps a tad harder than he needs to. Jake doesn't comment, but he makes casual conversation on the way to their next stop. One by one, the truck fills up, until there's no seats left and they need to hide away in the bed. Legal? No. Fun? Yes.

The last stop that Jake pulls up to is a little townhouse, and you're waiting on the steps. His team has met you before, and you're giddy to reunite with them, laughing cheerily as four men wave clumsily at you from the bed of the truck that they're not supposed to be in.

Jake leans over with that charming grin of his to ask for a kiss before you've even settled in your seat, and you're happy to lean over and smooch him as an entry fee for your ride.

"Hi, pretty girl," Jake hums, voice infinitely softer than when he'd greeted Fanboy, "Saved a seat for 'ya."

"I bought new stuff to put in your car," You admit sheepishly, revealing a mirror charm with the moon on one end, and stars on the other, "Is it okay if I put it up? I don't want to distract you. Or- or mess with the vibe of your space."

"Give it here, darlin'." Jake holds out his hand in lieu of a direct answer, delicately stringing the charm over the arm of his mirror, "There, makes the buffoons in the back look a whole lot prettier."

"Hi, buffoons," You greet teasingly, peering back once you settle in your seat to greet Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote, "Do we need to go get anyone else?"

"Nope," Jake checks to make sure your seatbelt is secure by gently tugging on the strap, acquiescing when it stays firmly in its latch. He throws an arm over the headrest of your seat, his large hand enveloping the pink straps of your headrest completely as he peers behind him to back out of his temporary parking spot. Satisfied, he steals one more kiss for good measure before putting the car in reverse, "Saved the best for last, baby doll."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 months

Text

Mother's Scrapbook

Summary: The Fire Family takes a vacation to Seychelles. Azula is trying to start a summer romance with the tour guide and Ursa just wants to take one photograph with her daughter.

She meets the girl by chance on the shores of La Digue when the sun is high and the heat is rolling. She has a pretty smile that competes with the sunlight. Azula supposes that it isn’t pure happenstance, she had booked the tour afterall. An all day excursion of the island and the next one over.

Where happenstance comes into play is that her initial tour guide has fallen ill—parasites of some sort in his fish dinner. So she has met the man’s daughter.

It is just she and mother for this particular adventure. Zuzu had wanted to go snorkeling, a means of making good on his promise to Katara that he would bring back neat pictures of the ocean. Of course, uncle wanted to tag along. Truth be told, she wouldn’t have been able to guess that father was fond of snorkeling. Apparently he is interested in the stingrays.

Mother on the other hand has a particularly adventurous spirit. It is one thing that they share.

She just hopes that the woman won’t be overly gushing about this.

The girl, who introduces herself as Seicho has a deeper complexion and pretty, soft brown eyes. She wears a wooden turtle necklace, likely hand-carved. “So you guys are staying in one of those spa resorts?”

Azula nods. She has been enjoying the Rock Spa and its jacuzzi and manicure services. “We have a garden villa.”

“That sounds lovely.”

Ursa nods. “The facials and massages are amazing. My husband claims that he didn’t enjoy it but I haven’t seen him this relaxed in decades.” She ends with a chuckle.

Seicho returns it. “Well first things first. I’ll show you around Anse Source D’argent.”

.oOo.

Most of the photos she snaps have been candid and stealthy. Azula doesn’t care for taking pictures. It has been so long since the two of them have bonded and there is so much that she doesn’t know about her own daughter. She only has this sneaking suspicion that the girl doesn’t like to be photographed because she has a habit of finding flaws where there are none.

Mostly Ursa has been capturing nature shots, picturesque panoramas of the palm trees and the hiking trail before them. She has managed capture a few images of slumbering flying foxes and white fairy terns just before they took flight.

Somehow it had been much harder to take a picture of Azula. But finally she has one. The image shows up on her camera screen; Azula is squatting in front of one of several tortoises attempting to feed it a handful of leaves while Seicho stands to her left, stroking the tortoise’s shell.

Ursa smiles at the photograph. Decidedly, her next mission will be to convince Azula take at least one photo together. She can’t remember the last time that the two of them have been in a picture together, let alone one that features just the two of them. It would be a lovely addition to her scrapbook.

“Do you want to try to feed them, mother?” Azula asks.

“Of course I would.”

Azula takes the camera from her and Ursa allows herself to be on the other side of the lens for a change.

“We should take a picture together.” She suggests a little ways down the hiking trail.

“Here?” Azula furrows her brows. “Shouldn’t we find a more scenic spot?”

It isn’t a yes, but it certainly implies that she might just get that photo of the two of them, if she chooses just the right setting. It is only night one of their vacation. Ursa smiles to herself, she has a feeling that she will get that photo eventually.

.oOo.

From atop her granite perch, Azula kicks her feet at water that reflects a mango-pink lemonade sunset. The rocks look pink in this light and Seicho’s face is painted a soft gold. The girl’s hand falls atop hers.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?”

It would be much easier to make the most of the moment if mother wasn’t there observing and giving her what is supposed to be an encouraging thumbs up. It only brings color to her cheeks and she hopes that Seicho hasn’t spotted the woman.

Azula nods. “I’ve seen sunsets in Hawaii, The Maldives, and Tahiti. I like this one the most.” Although, nothing truly compares to the volcanoes in Hawaii. “It’s a good way to end the first evening.” She wonders how Zuzu, father, and uncle are doing. She speculates that they are probably making their way to one of the resort’s restaurants, likely picking out a seat that overlooks the water. Zuzu is quite fond of ladob and she and father have taken a shine to the kari bonit.

“Roasted breadfruit?” Seicho offers.

Azula scrunches her brows at the fruit.

“I guess that it doesn’t look particularly appetizing, but it is tasty.” Seicho promises.

Reluctantly, Azula picks up a slice. Even more hesitantly Azula pops it into her mouth.

“Well?”

Azula hums. “It’s alright, I suppose.”

“It tastes better with coconut oil and other fruits.”

With nowhere left to take the conversation, Azula resumes looking out at the winking waves as a balmy breeze tosses her locks about. The world around smells fresh and salty. She finds herself slipping into a daydream of sorts; one wherein she and Seicho are walking across the sand while their families enjoy a beach picnic.

They are supposed to have a family picnic on day three of their vacation.

“Where did you get that necklace?” Azula tries to resume the conversation.

“It was my great, great, great, great, grandmother’s. It has been passed down for generations. My mom lets me wear it sometimes.” She pauses. “So what brings you to Seychelles?”

“Family vacation.” Azula finds herself staring off again. “It’s the first one that we’ve taken since my cousin Lu-Ten died.”

“What happened to him?”

“He and my grandfather were part of a search and rescue team. No one was there to rescue them.” She will leave it to Seicho to piece the details together. The wound is still rather raw in spite of the years gone by.

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Seicho frowns.

Azula shrugs. “I’m glad to be going on vacations again.” It is a simple, lighter way of saying that she is glad that her family is finally on the mend after tragedy and tension had put such a rift in the unity of it.

As embarrassing as it is to have mother lurking about, she is quite relived that the woman cares enough to hover and supervise. To have the woman’s encouragement. “The hike was nice, mother rather enjoyed it.” And they had rather enjoyed each other’s company for a change.”

Seicho grins. “Thanks! It was my first time giving a tour! I’ll let my dad know that you think I did a good job.”

Azula nods. She casts a glance at the hand that is still resting atop her own.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I can move it if you’d like.”

Azula shakes her head. “You can leave it there.” She doesn’t think anyone, family aside, has ever held her hand before. She has never had someone hold her hand the way that Mai holds Zuko’s. This isn’t exactly hand holding but it is close enough to make her stomach fluttery.

She catches Seicho’s eyes. They reflect the sun perfectly. So much so that Azula is inclined to say that they were made to do just that.

She doesn’t kiss Seicho that day, but she has all week to try.

Perhaps it will be a short thing.

A tiny little blip of a summer romance.

But it will be a memory to cherish and look back on when she sees the pictures in mother’s scrapbook.

#avatar the last airbender #azula #ursa #seicho #Azula/Seicho #Azula/Cupholder Girl #fanfiction

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