Minific prompt! I'd love to have a Zutara story with "Q. One missed call." (Or I guess if you want to go canon, a missed message)
Author’s notes!
1. Thank you for prompting. 🥰💜 It’s a pleasure to try and give a little bit back to you!
2. Speaking of. Is this ambiguously-set ficlet perhaps possibly set in Baker!Zuko universe? I plead the Fifth.
3. Another one that I set a timer for, so once more please excuse if the ending arrives with the jarring suddenness of a YouTube advert.
***
As Katara paged to the beginning of her notes with the intention of going through the sections she still felt shaky in one more time, she flipped over her phone and took a glance at the screen almost without thinking.
The top notification dumped ice water into her veins.
With a shaky hand, she ripped out her earphones without bothering to stop the music, desperately needing to cut out all distractions as her brain tried to process what she was seeing. She unlocked her phone and pressed the notification like it was a big, red button that would end the whole world, not just her little pocket of the universe she’d created. Blowing up the information across her screen did nothing to help and everything to make the lump in her throat threaten to make her eyes tear up, and the soft clatter of Zuko sweeping the kitchen was the only catalyst she needed to leap off the couch, briefly fight with the blanket before casting it aside in merciless victory, and march to the brighter light and warm smells and the person who she hoped would help make this all feel better.
“Oh, hey.” Zuko glanced at the slowcooker. “I thought you’d be a little longer, so I don’t think the — what’s wrong?”
Clenching her jaw tight to keep herself together, Katara held up her phone toward him so he could read the screen. Zuko squinted at it and took a few hesitant steps forward, the furrow between his eyes deepening until understanding caused his eyebrow to shoot up instead.
“Oh. Wow. I thought they said they’d only call next w—” He glanced at Katara’s face again and winced at the expression he saw there. “Do you think... They won’t retract any offers just ‘cause you missed one call, right? That wouldn’t be professional. Nobody can be at their phones the whole day.”
He allowed the silence to sit in anticipation of her answer, so Katara finally made herself give one: first a shake of her head and then, haltingly, some words.
“No. They’ll — they’re good people. They’ll call back.”
“Okay.” The frown re-appeared on Zuko’s face. “That’s... good.” Katara pulled the phone back and curled it to her chest, wrapping her other arm around herself and looking at him imploringly, the stinging in her eyes growing worse. “Do you...” He was lost, and some part of her wanted to throw him a lifeline, but the part in control of her right then was just growing frustrated that he didn’t instantly understand what that missed call meant. “They said you’d only hear from them if your application was successful, right?”
Katara had to swallow a few times as she nodded, her throat tight and sore, her chest being carved out by every heartbeat, and the support she’d come to find not there for her to grasp onto.
Zuko gave her a little smile. “So you did it, Kat. That’s wonderful.”
The last layer of her rationality that sleep deprivation and pent-up emotion about her finals, her future, her self-worth, shattered completely under his words. Even as the tears finally welled enough to blur her vision, the cold in her turned to hot rage.
“So you’re happy I’m going?”
Zuko turned instantly weary. “Yeeeees?”
“How?” she snapped.
“What do you mean —? Because this is a great opportunity for you? Because you worked hard for months applying for this internship? Because you want to go?” He shook his head. “Kat, love, what is going —?”
“But how don’t you feel any sadness over this? I’m going for two years. I’m... I’m...” She roughly dragged the heel of her hand across both cheeks to try and shove away the tears. “We won’t be able to see each other for weeks at a time... And... and our schedules will barely line up and...”
“All things we’ve already — ” He cut off the frustrated sentence, took a deep breath and tried again, more level-toned. “Are you... afraid I’m going to break up with you because we’re on long distance?”
“No. I mean, okay, a little bit but if we do I won’t blame you because I’m — I’m leaving you. I’m just up and going to some other place for some internship opportunity like that’s more important than being there for you and I know you’ll be the one to stay up late to try and talk to me, and I can’t even promise I’ll make it out there or do something great or — or — or...”
“Oh, wow, okay.”
Zuko finally moved, crossing the expanse of kitchen between them. His arms came up as he walked but, when he reached her, he hesitated to put his arms around her, and Katara could all but read the inner workings of his mind wondering if she’d be comforted by a hug or whether she was genuinely mad at him and therefore did not want to be touched right then. It was so infuriating and so thoughtful that she let out a little hiccuping laugh and stepped into him to bury her head into the crook of his neck. At once, Zuko’s arms enveloped her.
“I’m a selfish person,” she whispered, and the confession broke the dam on her tears.
Zuko let her cry for a few moments, stroking her hair, before he shifted his head so that his right cheek pressed against her left one.
“You are very, very, very much not a selfish person. The opposite. And that’s a little bit of the problem. The other part of the problem is that you’re stressed and very sleep-deprived.”
“That’s two parts,” Katara mumbled, voice grossly thick.
“I guess the problem is larger than I thought,” he said in his Bad Uncle Iroh Impression voice. Katara couldn’t bring herself to laugh, but she did cling tighter to him. “Kat...” Zuko sighed. “It’s going to suck not having you close. Not getting to do things like this. But it’s worth it. I know this is falling on deaf ears right now, but we still have one working one between us so...” That did startle a laugh out of her, and she felt Zuko relax. She hadn’t realised how tense he’d been until that moment, and another wave of guilt washed over her and made her start to trace patterns against his back. “Kyoshi Island isn’t that far away. And if it is...” He hesitated. “If it is, I’ll move with you.”
Katara pulled back in shock, searching his face for any indication he was still trying to joke to make her feel better. His gaze was resolute.
“But — Uncle — your job — how could you even —?”
He shrugged and gave her a rueful smile. “No idea. Haven’t thought that far. Yet,” he added, hastily. “We’ll — we can talk about this. All of this. But... maybe after your last exam? When you’ve also slept for nine hours straight?”
“Yeah,” she said, distracted, still trying to process through what he’d just said. “I... yeah.” With the panic temporarily washed out of her, though, a different sort of shame to the insidious black lump inside her chest started to bloom hot across her chest and then up her neck and to her cheeks in a rapid inferno. “Tui and La. I’m —” She put her head in her hands, slapping herself with the phone she’d forgotten she still carried. “I’m so sorry. I — it just... I don’t even...”
He pried her fingers away gently, and cupped her face in his hands instead. Rough and warm and smelling of the kitchen cleaner he’d been using to scrub down the counters. He said nothing, but the way he looked at her hacked back at the miserable mortification until it was once again just roots below the surface. A memory of him quietly, almost shyly telling her that he appreciated it more when she shared what she was really feeling briefly flickered across her mind.
“I’m really proud of you for getting this job, Katara.”
She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his right hand. “Thank you.”
“Okay. Dinner.” Her stomach growled, as if on cue, and he sniggered softly at her. Ignoring her glare, he let go in favour of walking to check the food. “Give it... ten minutes. Do you want me to quiz you, or do you want to watch something?”
“New episodes of Is it Cake?” she asked, hopefully.
“I can suffer through a few,” came the droll reply.
“The one to get the most guesses wrong does the dishes tonight,” she said with a smirk that belied the fact that she knew she’d lose to him.
“The singular slow cooker?”
“And the bowls,” she countered, and laughed as he rolled his eyes at her. “Take the wins where you can, Zu.”
As he grumbled, Katara moved across the kitchen and picked up the broom to finish sweeping, waving him off when he protested. If there was one thing she’d learned throughout life, it was that the little moments were the ones that stuck with you and made the ache of missing worse... and also able to bear. She hoped this would be one of the nights she’d remember, exhausted and probably at least a little lonely despite Suki’s excited reassurances about Kyoshi Island’s residents.
Because Zuko was wearing one of her scrunchies to pull his hair back, she realised as he served them both dinner, and he was warm beside her on the couch and loud in his opinions about cake and adorably serious as he read her practise questions while she washed the dishes after dinner was done, tripping over the words he didn’t know but determined to get them all the same. This was a home worth coming back to, and worth fighting for, no matter how hard the battles became in the future.
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a/n - oh hey. its been a minute *maybe a year* I'm into cod now, don't ask, I'm blessing you with drunk captain price AND ghost headcannons. enjoy u freaks <3
warnings - dirty talk. older men. praise. freaky!drunk price (for a quick second) ghosts possessive ass. code names but no physical descriptors. clif hanger (sorry not sorry!)
drunk!captain price who’s tells you to bend over in the middle of your living room after coming home from a night out with his men at the bar
drunk!captainprice who is pulling those delicious purple panties off to reveal your soaking cunt
drunk!captain price with every thought evacuated from his head besides eating you out
drunk!captainprice who is pressing his head into your pussy like he’s a starving man who needs to have his fill
drunk!captainprice price who makes you come 3 times on his tongue with words like “soak me” “good girl, grind into my beard” and “let me drink you down”
drunk!ghost can’t stand the fact your getting shit faced drunk right now
drunk!ghost who is currently holding a can of beer sitting tightly on a semi-questionable stained sofa
drunk!ghost who watches you flirt and fumble through every man in the house, until somehow you end up outside
drunk!ghost who sees your wobbly steps and facade of confidence as you stroll over to him
drunk!ghost who tilts his head to look at you like he doesn’t have any idea what your about to do
“LT.” you greeted him, “Red” he greeted back, quick and gruff, emotionless.
he was always strictly orders and command, even when the entire squad celebrated a mission win, ghost would always separate himself from the rest. you didn’t know if it was because his usual brooding-bad boy vibe needed to be upheld, or he just didn’t like drinking all that much
either way, YOU like drinking, and you’ve had a lot this afternoon, and ghosts lap looks very comfortable and-
“Red? Fuckin, hell…” somehow, between your drunk thoughts and curious feet, your body ended up in ghost lap
both your legs were situated on either side of him, your hair brushing the sides of his face. Ghosts head tilted up instinctively
but whether he wanted to get away from you, or pull you in closer was still a mystery, the grenade was on his turf and he was taking a very long time to throw it back
in a rushed movement, ghosts tactile-glove had reach out to pull at your hips, beckoning you to press your body to his
“watched your pretty little ass talk to every one of those men in there” ghost whispered into your ear, it made you shiver he sounded angry
possessive.
“And you still found your way to me”
“You let any of em touch you, red, or are you just a tease?” Ghost pulls at your hips, attempting to bring you closer.
(Technically a ghost tour. Takes place in my Living Our Best Deaths AU.)
"I don't know." Robin nervously flicking his flashlight on and off. "Maybe we should wait for Batman."
"Psh, it's fine," Tim says, waving away Robin's fears with a flap of his hand. "I checked it out earlier and the haunting is very mundane. The old lady died from a heart attack during the robbery. Not even technically a murder!"
"Yeah, but—"
"She was an art teacher. If I giving her an energy boost, she can probably sketch the perp." Tim reaches through the door, unlocking the knob on the other side so they both can go through. "C'mon—it'll be fun!"
Contrary to popular belief, ghosts are not frightening.
Thomas will admit they are unusual, a bizarre oddity of otherworldly existence, but they are completely harmless, and most of them are friendly. The ghosts he speaks to are often regular companions who usually accompany him during the quiet, curious hours of night nestled behind the velvet red curtain separating the living world from theirs but, like tonight, others appear only when summoned on the request of a loved one longing to speak with them.
Or: Sonya and Harriet come into the psychic shop Thomas works at and ask him to summon Newt. But as it turns out, this isn't just a one time occurrence for any of them.
today i received the most beautiful package containing one of three copies of this book @merely-indifferent painstakingly made of all the ghostfic writings sophia, pierrot, and i made over the past couple years. it’s seriously such a work of art yall just look at this layout!! i’m a nerd about typesetting and book formatting and this book just hits the spot, soph did such an amazing job😭🫀 there are cute little details like the well-chosen symbols that head the chapters/sections which aren’t pictured bc of tumblr’s image limit….just everything about it is so beautiful and im soooo lucky to get to hold it in my hands 🥹
@25corneliaavenue also made an ADORABLE pin which fits right in on my bag’s little pin corner!!
you guys are so fucking talented what the hell. i love you🫀
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My first attempt at ghost fic! I don’t have an AO3 so gotta post it here. I will probably try to continue it at some point!
“I Will Do It” Chapter 1
Yesterday, I had been summoned for an “important discussion” by the ever critical and imposing Sister Imperator just after my normal working hours were over. To my surprise, when I arrived Papa Nihil was also present, standing beside Sister, but he did not look happy which made me even more worried than I had been about whatever Sister wanted to say.
[[MORE]]
“He’s here!” Sister Imperator announced, bringing Papa’s scowl in my direction as I came through the tall doors and approached them. I felt my heart rate increase and my palms grow sweaty as my mind ran through all the things they might want to say to me so urgently as I nervously greeted the pair, who shared a meaningful look and stepped away for a moment, grumbling to each other. After a moment, Sister Imperator stepped forward again and shocked me with her next words, “Cardinal, as our next senior most member behind Papa Emeritus III, you have now been assigned to the Ghost project and will be replacing him on tour in the next couple of months. I suggest you begin preparing yourself immediately.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, thinking I must’ve misunderstood her.
“Surely you heard me, Cardinal. I said, you will be replacing Papa Emeritus III on the upcoming tour.” She scolded.
I began to panic. Me? She wanted me to go on stage and perform for all those people? Papa III is very charismatic, good looking, outgoing, and everyone loves him. But me? I knew I was rather awkward man with poor people skills. The upper clergy never hesitated to let me know this on the occasions I gave sermons or spoke in meetings. Plus, I was only a cardinal, not Papa. It has only ever been Papa who performs with the band. However, one does not say “no” to Sister and Nihil. “I, ah-, Thank you? I just have one question though, I thought only the current Papa was the uh- the front man? I am only a Cardinal as you know and I can’t imagine that Papa will just step aside?” I asked, holding my breath in fear of an angry reply.
To my surprise she replied gently, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Oh Cardinal, do not concern yourself with that. Everything will fall into place. Go upstairs and get fitted for your new suits and we will discuss this more later.” Her cryptic response did not really answer any questions, but I didn’t want to try my luck with her seemingly good mood, so I nodded at her and Papa Nihil then turned on my heel to find the tailor. After all, she said we would talk more about it later.
Now, I had just finished my work for today and was hoping to find Papa III, affectionately called Terzo by most of us here in the ministry. Despite technically being my boss, he is one of my best friends. He seemed to sort of ‘adopt’ me since the day I joined this church. His outgoing and talkative nature made him easy to be around and he has always been patient with me and reassured me when things made my anxiety spike or made me stutter.
“Do not worry!” He would say, when I worried about giving a sermon or whatever I worried about, while patting my back. “You know what you’re talking about. You didn’t get to be Cardinal by accident. You say something a little bit wrong, Terzo will help you fix. Nobody argues with Papa right? It will be fine!”
I smiled to myself as I turned the corner approaching the door to his room. Yes, he will know what to say. He is bound to know what is going on, considering he would have to be leaving the band, and he could explain to me in a much less nerve wracking way than Imperator. Perhaps he’d even give me some tips, what I should practice, what to look out for, and other details like that since he has done it so many times. Although I don’t have a clue why they would want /me/ to replace him, and I did not feel confident I could actually do it, I knew I’d feel better after a better explanation of what to expect so I could prepare myself as much as I could.
Terzo’s door was open, so I decided to just go in. “Terzo! Where are you? I was hoping we could talk about something!” I called out as I dropped onto his couch, propping my feet up on the coffee table while being careful to avoid the bottle of wine and mostly empty wine glass beside it. Seconds passed with no reply, the only thing breaking the silence was the ticking of a grucifix shaped clock on the wall. “Terzo? Are you here?” I called again, craning my neck around searching the room for signs of him. Surely if he was in the bathroom I would have heard the water running by now right?
I got up and saw the bedroom door wide open, with the bed unmade and unoccupied. Turning to the bathroom door, it was opened a crack, but the light was off. I pushed it the rest of the way open just to double check, but found nothing as I expected.
Returning to the living area, I gave one more glance around for any hint to where he may have gone but found nothing but a rock music magazine opened to a full page photo of Terzo in his papal ropes and mitre, holding a mic apparently at a ritual. I glanced at the article to see if it happened to mention any upcoming appearances I could’ve forgotten about but it seemed to just be an article praising his latest album and discussing the song he won a Grammy for.
“Hmmf. I guess he’s not here. Asshole,” I said to myself and made my way out of his rooms, dinner on my mind. I texted him that i was looking for him and headed toward the kitchen, but was stopped in my tracks when I nearly ran right into Sister Imperator.
“Oh! Eh, sorry about that sister, I uh, I was just texting Terzo,” I said holding my phone up to explain why I wasn’t looking where I was going, “I was looking for him, so he could- eh, so maybe he could give me some tips? For my upcoming assignment. Would you happen to know where he is?” I asked hopefully, avoiding eye contact in case she was angry with me for nearly running her over.
“Cardinal, you need to get your head out of your ass if you want to be ready for this assignment.” I cringed internally as she continued, “Look where you are going. Papa Emeritus III is in the mortuary. You won’t find him here,” she said sternly turning to walk off.
The mortuary? Weird. What business did he have there? I wondered to myself. At least I knew where he was now. “Sister!” I said as I turned on my heel and walked quickly to catch up with her, “do you know when he will be back?” I questioned, walking in stride with her. She stopped and turned to me, giving me a peculiar look, like I had two heads or something. My eyes immediately went to the floor.
“He is in the MORTUARY, Cardinal. He will not be back. Surely you know what the mortuary is?” She rolled her eyes and continued walking, but my mind was reeling trying to comprehend what she just said. He will not be back? He couldn’t be dead, could he? He was perfectly healthy! I began to panic.
“Sister what do you mean?! He won’t be back? He was perfectly fine a couple days ago, we had dinner and drinks together!” I said, my voice becoming higher with nerves, while I ran to catch up and lightly grabbing her arm with a shaking hand.
She turned to me with a scowl this time, shaking my hand off her arm, “Really Cardinal? You really ought to think about what you say. I thought I made it clear. That useless man is dead. Since this morning.” She replied nonchalantly and walked off, her heels clicking and echoing as she left. I felt the world start spinning around me, and I stumbled to the wall for balance. How could this be? Why? Why didn’t anyone say anything before, he was the highest ranking member of our church, all the other former Papas were retired thus no longer as powerful. I felt my throat begin to close as my mind absorbed the fact I’d never see my friend again, never talk to him, never joke around over pizza and video games on unoccupied week nights, never hearing his reassuring words that I’m sure helped me achieve my position without having a mental breakdown.
I slid down the wall and sat on the floor with my knees to my chest and my head in my hands. Was this planned all along? I wondered to myself, needing to find a reason for his death. Did they know when they told me I’d replace him that Terzo would die? Closing my eyes I tried to control my breathing and avoid passing out in the hallway for some poor ghoul to find. I wiped a tear from my face and inhaled sharply as a thought entered my head. Sister Imperator seemed very nonchalant about the situation, and it made me very suspicious she had something to do with this. I always knew she was catty and enjoyed having power, but I didn’t think she would stoop so low as to kill others, especially not the son of her not so secret former lover.
I had to find out why. I needed to. I tried to collect myself as much as I could and staggered to a stand, taking a deep breath before making my way to the church mortuary.
Hey, guys. I just decided that I'm going to start posting chapters of Soul Bound on here as well as Ao3, that way I may have a little more traction.
As of today, I'm going to post the prologue as well as the first 3 chapters in a "keep reading" format on this tumblr.
I also changed tomrrow's chapter name to "What Happened?" and moved the title "Who Framed Luz Noceda?" to the chapter after that. That's what you get when you have such a vague outline.
