#my adhd ass + my adhd ass wife do not remember to take chicken out to thaw it

[boygirlcreature]

now that i learned i can cook chicken in my instant pot without thawing it first it is over for everybody

[zukofenty]

Day 4: bad decisions

➜  The one where Katara (might) be in love with the campus drug dealer.

“So why won’t you go out with me? Is it because I’m a drug dealer?” Zuko’s mad, twisting the rings on his fingers while impatiently waiting on her answer.

“Not exactly,” Katara quips, averting her eyes from his fiery gaze. “It’s mainly because you don’t tip when we go out to eat.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, teeny bit of angst, DrugDealer!Zuko 

➜ Words: 5.3k

➜ Warnings: I love DrugDealer!Zuko more than I love myself 😩

AO3, Zutara Month Playlist, @zutaramonth​ hi i love u! 

➜ Notes: hehe listen to “Bad Decisions” by Miss Ari! life changing! 

“Zuko’s dead? ” Katara nearly screams into the phone. She pulls on one of his hoodies and is scrambling to find her slides and keys.

Toph sighs. “We all knew this would happen. The sky’s blue, Beyonce needs to stop forcing her boyfriend on us. Basic facts. Get it together , Katara.”

“Toph, how does your disdain for Jay-Z make it into every conversation you have?” Suki wearily states. “All we know is that a dealer got shot near the frats today. So in conclusion, Zuko’s dead.”

“Donezo.”

“Bitch is gone .”

“God bless his beautiful ass.”

“A moment of silence for his fake Chanel blouses.”

Katara does her breathing exercises. “ Enough .” She hears a knock at the door, and immediately grabs her expandable baton. “Oh my god , someone’s at the door.” She whips out the baton to its full length.

Toph gasps. “Bitch, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. Are we getting a two for one deal tonight?”

Suki cheers. “I call dibs on her Fenty highlighters.”

“Oh hell fucking no ! You do not have the range for Trophy Wife, whore!” Toph shouts right into the microphone. Katara winces, and takes out an Airpod. She’s heaving, nervous at who could be at the door. Toph and Suki were trying to negotiate with each other on who was getting Katara’s brand new Hydrating Foundation when she takes an experimental glance out the peephole. Her gasp reverberates through the phone.

“She’s died, Suki! She’s died!” Toph wails, her screams nearly unintelligible.

“ Zuko? ” Katara screeches at the top of her lungs, launching herself at him so violently her other Airpod pops out.

He chuckles when she locks her legs around his waist, his arms coming out to support her from underneath her ass. It’s domestic, and he relishes in the attention. “Hello to you, too.” She’s smiling at him and it’s beautiful and soft and everything he wanted to see after the shitty night he’s had. Dealing in college was an easy route to Balenciaga and bitches. Everyone did it, it was as easy as catching HPV at your school. Yet, Zhao, the Kingpin of dealers, just had to get his side-chick pregnant and then just had to get shot by his girlfriend. Even if he did get shot up because he was a slut (#FreeZhao), the campus dean had called the cops and was in the process of launching an extensive campaign to fuck up any current dealers. Even if you possess the slightest hint of addy for your ADHD, you still had to haul your ass to the campus police station. It wasn’t fair though. Coke is what makes college campuses around the world run as smoothly as they do.

“You promised me you’d stop,” she’s murmuring in his ear, curled up beside him in her cramped twin bed. Her roommates went back home for the weekend, so it makes it just that much easier to pretend you two could be like this. Lost in the sheets, hopelessly in love with her head on his chest.

“If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get you this,” Zuko whispers in her hair. He slides a ring on her finger and she smiles lazily back at him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. God, is this what love feels like? If she accidentally got pregnant with Zuko’s spawn she wouldn’t immediately reach for Plan B? The ring was a simple thing, just plain silver because she wanted one to be “edgy,” obsessed with rings after playing with the handful that adorn Zuko’s fingers. After making sure she was sound asleep, he lets himself smile. Finally , he’s getting somewhere with her.  

Seemingly a too perfect, impenetrable forest, he’s finding himself finally being let into her world. As corny and lovesick it sounded, Zuko understood how easy it was to love someone when he laid eyes on you. All those damn John Green books were right, he begrudgingly admits ( Eat shit John Green.) She truly could not do one wrong thing in his eyes, her soft giggles as she attempted to explain commas and semicolons and gerunds or whatever the fuck he doesn’t quite remember because he was busy being infatuated and trying to make her laugh. They’d met freshman year, and have remained in this weird limbo ever since. Where he would call her  to remind her to eat when she was stressed, and he could plant kisses in her hair when he’s showing up to her apartment at night, cuddling her without her pulling away because it always felt right. At the same time, Katara felt so unattainable, so out of reach. It’s never progressed past simple, flirtatious touches. Yet, being with her feels different than any other relationship he’s been in, as though his heart was permanently and solely hers.

It was easy to fall in love. Katara was so kind, yet so dead set in her ways. Never detracting her focus from school, she had no time for anything else in her life. Her older brother Sokka had raised her when their parents had disappeared shortly after producing the “accident” child. They handed Katara off to him, who hadn’t spoken to them in years. While Sokka was in college and attempting to care for Katara at the same time, he had struck gold with recording labels interested in his music producing work. Soon, he was making songs you could regularly hear on the radio and not just on Soundcloud, and the royalties were ensuring Katara got the best. The best schools, clothes, life. Even if her brother was obsessed with flexing his regular Bugatti purchases on Instagram, she wasn’t nearly as preoccupied. She was always in oversized hoodies that once upon a time ago belonged to Sokka before he decided on dressing like a 30 year old hypebeast Instagrammer still trying to hold onto their youth. Always volunteering her time and doing things rich people had time to do to make themselves feel good about their tax breaks.

It made Zuko feel jealous in a sense, with his uncle struggling to make ends meet his whole life. He ran a small fried chicken and tea shop (Iroh was convinced about this combo) in his neighborhood, and he hated to admit that he was ashamed. That he dreamed of shoving Chanel anything up his ass. He would take the perfume sample cards from the mall that said Givenchy , pinning it to his wall as inspiration for what he would buy in the future. It didn’t make sense to him, when Katara had all this money and couldn’t care less. She penny pinched when she didn’t need to, wore clothes from Forever 21, as though Sokka wouldn’t drop thousands for the Fendi boots she always talked about.

“Damnit, you’re dick sick, aren’t you?” Toph sends her a look that screamed pity. Katara tried to fix the frown, but her eyes always revealed everything. So she nods in agreement, and Toph wraps her up in her arms. Zuko had invited her and Toph to a quote unquote “exclusive party” thrown by the rich kids whose parents owned the university. The Olivia Jades of the world. Schmoney shmoney . It didn’t help that she felt so out of place, circling all throughout the frat house before settling on the cleanest couch near the one window that wasn’t broken. She wanted to be a part of Zuko’s world for a night, see where he was disappearing to on the weekends.

Although Toph spent the better part of the evening prepping her hoe fit, Katara stuck to an uneventful long t shirt (Zuko’s shirt, of course) paired with thigh high boots. She had planned on only staying half an hour, tops. She didn’t drink, smoke, it just wasn’t her thing. Her worst fear was contracting herpes from a wax pen. Even when she was a college freshman and people were busy coming back upchucking all over the communal dorm bathroom, she instead dutifully held hair back, and changed drunk girls’ clothes. She quickly learned the tricks of the trade after cleaning up Sokka’s messy weekend self during his quarter life crisis phase. Admittedly, she was boring . So, she reasoned 30 minutes gave her enough time to walk around the place and see Zuko schmoozing with rich kids, and then leave to have enough time to do her skincare before bed.  

“More like sick. He deals coke now! Coke! That’s a prison drug, ma’am. The real deal,” she whimpers into her tits. She had caught Zuko in one of the trust fund babies’ enormous rooms in the frat house, daddy’s credit cards and student IDs out and about with lines of something she’d only seen in movies. Since all the dealers were on the low with the campus crackdown, and since it was midterms season, the demand amongst the student population was unbelievably high. Zuko was the only brave stupid enough to keep selling. Katara had burst into the room to alert Zuko that Toph and her were about to make a dramatic exit without him to go back to her place and watch John Tucker Must Die instead of studying.

She had expected a lot of things, hell even coke (maybe). What she didn’t anticipate was seeing a girl in Zuko’s lap, kissing up his neck, wearing practically nothing. He had an assertive hand on her thigh, massaging it, manhandling her like Katara wished he would do with her. He’s talking and acting like he belonged with the assholes of your school. Like he wasn’t the gentle guy who Katara always saw in sweats always talking about his half sister, or memories of his uncle’s restaurant. She had made eye contact with him and promptly shut the door, feeling as though her heart would burst any second now.

So Toph and Katara go back to her place, calling up Suki who Ubers over, ready to rag on her (sort of) mans. Both Toph and her were in Suki’s t shirts that she “gave” to the duo. Both girls ignore her protests when she shows up and demands for them back. “Hey, that is premium Aliexpress Yeezus Tour shirts! They don’t sell fakes like these anymore!”

Katara was eating Target generic brand ice cream out the container, her heartbreak palpable, especially to Toph. The two girls were best friends after becoming roommates freshman year. Katara’s a sweet thing, too sweet in Toph’s opinion. Always remembering little things, people’s birthdays or favorite brand of instant Udon packages. She was always the one defending Toph against those who found it too easy to take advantage of her. Toph, in turn, was always there to mend her big heart after no one remembered her birthday freshman year. In many ways, Katara won a permanent place in Toph’s heart. She was always the one showing up to her dance performances, even if they were a two hour bus ride away. Always making sure to take off her makeup after recitals when she was too tired to move. It hurt her to see Katara like this, in pain.

“All I’m saying is that he uses you to play house. It’s time to cut the cord. Don’t be Beyonce, don’t keep letting a man bring down your worth. Plus, you don’t have the range to come out with Lemonade in the middle of all this heartbreak and betrayal.”

She scoops Vanilla bean into her mouth, eyes downcast. “What do you mean? Just because he comes here and sleeps over all the time?” She settles her head in Toph’s lap when she sees Suki begin to straighten her back, prepping for the rant she was about to deliver.

“Katara, sweet, pure, virginal Katara.”  

“Hey!” Katara yelps.

“I’m going to be honest with you, and it’s going to hurt. Like pap smear at the gyno hurt.” Katara nods, interest piqued. “Do you see you on his Instagram? Do you? Any posts, any tagging done when I know you took this photo of this overpriced matcha soy latte?” Suki tries her hardest not to break her tough girl role when she sees hersad fucking eyes. Why are they built like that? Like she could break her heart with just a watery glance? “Tell me, who do you see on Zuko’s Instagram and Snapchat?”

“Hotgirls,” she jumbles the words in her haste.

“Louder!” Suki shouts.

“ Hot. Girls. ” she admitted defeat. Toph strokes her hair gently to try to comfort her.

“That’s the thing with guys like Zuko, ok? They want the hottest girls on campus to suck and fuck, but they’re even more cruel with girls like you. Girls who are meant for dating to marry and cute gender reveal parties and pastels and shit. He knows that you guys aren’t meant to be together, the universe says so. But he’ll still play with your feelings because he likes pretending he deserves you. Pretending that in this world, girls like you and guys like him can be together and make it work.”

Katara’s jolting her head out of Toph’s lap in protest. “Well, what if I want to be a slut? What if I want to be the kind of girl that Zuko wants?” She was tired of being the cute girl who looks like she goes to volunteer at the community center regularly and is destined for some picket fence with a balding, accountant husband and loud, undisciplined kids. She wanted sex, hell she wanted to wear skimpy clothes without worrying what Zuko was going to think about how her tits looked, or if her pants showed enough of her ass to be considered hoe. Katara wanted the confidence of those girls Zuko would put on his social media, she wanted to be them. Being with Zuko felt like being with someone who got her, and she liked, hell loved the attention he gave her. As though she felt pretty, and not adorable. He was someone she just couldn’t get out of her head, someone that was so dangerous to her because she was feeling herself change for him. Is it wrong that she liked it? The way he called her gorgeous when he comes over, or how he lazily grinds against her ass when he’s half-asleep, hands on her hips grounding her.

Suki squeezes her chipmunk cheeks between her musty hands, and interrupts Katara’s protest about an acne breakout. “Even if you try changing everything about you to become exactly what he wants, do you really think he’s going to treat you the same when it isn’t on the down low?”

Ouch.

Suki’s honesty still stings, but it was the cold hard truth. She was willing to change herself, be someone for a guy promising her trips to Paris when he could never meet when the sun was up. Suki’s words hurt as bad as the dress Toph was squeezing you into. “You wanted slutty, I’m giving you waist trainer, Insta model slutty!” She had convinced Katara to go on a date with some guy who was “perfect” for her. Code for boring, she was sure of it. Probably an engineering major who didn’t know how Twitter worked.

Even with all of Toph’s efforts, Katara decided all the shapewear in the world wasn’t going to contain her “post depression ice cream for all three meals” belly.  So, she decided to keep it simple with her “knock-off Ariana” outfit as she calls it. Pairing just a pair of thigh high boots with a long sweatshirt.

“Look, I know you secretly get off to the thrill of dating a lame drug dealer, knowing the cops could bust down your door and cause a scene at your apartment. I know you live for the drama. But I promise, this guy will be good for you. Let’s just have fun for one night. Please put the dress back on? I know you haven’t washed that hoodie in a week,” Toph pleads with Katara.

She just rolled her eyes while Toph reapplied a layer of gloss to Katara’s lips. Deep down, she just knew in her heart there was no getting over Zuko. At least immediately. But, it didn’t hurt that Jet was cute, harmless fun.  He was taking her out to a diner near her apartment, frequented by students at their college deluded by the aesthetic photo ops, and not too concerned about how the restaurant was serving up microwaved Mac n cheese. He showed up looking exactly like his Instagram photos and in a well ironed H&M button up. She could feel Toph hiding behind her futon, snapping clandestine photos for Suki, who was in the bathroom with the Taco Bell shits.  

“ How dare you?! ” Jet screeches, dropping a cold fry in disbelief. “You’ve never watched anime?”

“Ok, a scream was not what I was expecting. I just asked if Teen Titans counted. Sue me.” Katara’s laughing, and hates to admit that it was fun being with Jet. He’s nerdy and sweet and most importantly so, so tall. A good guy.

“It doesn’t! ” he huffs petulantly.

Katara juts out her lip. “How can you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm. I guess a second date. Maybe an anime sesh will have to do. Your place, and we’re pulling an all nighter.”

“Why not your place?” she questions.

“I live in a living room, and I don’t have a mattress. But why not? My place it is!” His aggressive thumbs up makes her laugh so hard it sends her into a choking fit.

“So, we’re watching Teen Titans first, right?” she teases, pounding at her chest to stop the coughs.

His smile reaches his eyes. “You know, I was kinda scared going out with you tonight. No offense, but you have, like, no pictures on your social media. All Toph promised me was ‘you’re really pretty and heartbroken as well. ’ And, not to try to win any brownie points on this date, but I have to agree, you’re really pretty.” Katara rolls her eyes, and he blushes.

“I was expecting something along the lines of ‘ Goddess like,’ but I guess ‘really pretty’ works, too.” She’s laughing along with his obnoxious giggles, and she feels almost lighthearted. Not quite ready to fall in love again, but considering the possibility. “Let me guess, she cheated on you?”

“Worse. Walked in on her with...drumroll please!” Katara lightly began drumming her fingers on the dining table. “You guessed it! My brother!” he sheepishly admits, bringing out the jazz hands and everything to emphasize his point.

She audibly gasps. “That’s some Kdrama shit right there! Please tell me you started a fist fight with him, kicked a nut or two.”

“Nah, I had an essay due. No time for that shit, you know? I just shut the door, banged out my paper, and haven’t spoken to either of them in about four months.”

She takes a sip of her milkshake. “That’s healthy!” Jet tilts his shake in Katara’s direction in agreement, before taking a long gulp from the cup.

He quirks a perfectly shaped brow towards her. “So, let me guess. Your guy saved his side chick’s name as Chick-fil-a in his phone, you found out and tried to strangle him with his belt, and he pressed charges?”

“Oddly specific, but sadly no. Let’s just say he had the biggest heart. Big enough for bitches on the side as well.” Jet makes a grunt in disapproval. “It wasn’t like I could be mad, anyways. We weren’t in anything official. But it felt like it could’ve been something, you know?”

It was like an unspoken agreement, an energy that the two felt when they met each other. A “my heart was just shattered into a billion pieces but hopefully a rebound will lessen the pain just for two hours tonight” kind of vibe. It felt good with Jet, like the two of you guys had known each other forever. He serves her with corny joke after joke, and she lets herself laugh. She hated being around men, and besides, Sokka threatened any that even made eye contact with her  for longer than 20 seconds. Aside from Sokka, Zuko, and Aang, the kid she babysat, Katara was afraid to let any other men in her life. Three was already enough emotional labor.

They both go out for boba afterwards, and Jet makes sure to pay for their drinksand then drop his change into the tip jar. He knows that Katara swoons immediately. It always works. That’s why 30 minutes later, she’s slamming him into her futon. Soon after, he’s shirtless, pressing at her core with impatient fingers. She’s grinding helplessly in his lap, his moans egging her on. He insisted she keep the boots on.

“I was not raised to leave my shoes on in the house. That’s just vile ,” she protested. Jet silences her with a gentle kiss, and a press of his throbbing cock against her.

“Please, baby. Make an exception for me tonight,” he whispers against her lips. Her shorts and underwear are suddenly missing. When the fuck did he do that? She’s dizzy and horny and so full when he starts fingering her. His fingers so fucking long and is making her whimper and ready to have his kids. She closes her eyes because staring at Jet’s fucked out ones made her want to combust. She was focusing on the feeling of being stuffed while trying to tamp down on the fear of losing her virginity, because that seemed like the logical course of action with how the night was playing out. Damnit, what if it hurts like a pap smear ? She thinks pathetically. In the middle of all her inner monologues, she’s suddenly shoved off of Jet’s warm body, tumbling on the ground. She opens her eyes to see Zuko pummeling Jet to a pulp.

“Not the face, Zuko! Not the fucking face! He’s too pretty for this!” Katara yelps, shoving Zuko’s muscular frame off of Jet. Jet sends her a sad smile before slipping his shirt over his head and heading out the door.

She’s fuming, too angry, too confused. “What the fuck was that ?” She’s at maximum screech levels tonight, much to her neighbor’s dismay.

“You tell me!” Zuko cards his hands through his hair. “You’re fucking some other guy? Don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Katara. But this,” he gestures between the two of them. “Did you forget about us? Forget about me? What the fuck?”  

“Hold up, Walter White.” She’s sticking a hand out in his face. “We are a situationship, at best. Don’t you dare accuse me of whoring around when we aren’t even official.”

“I thought what we had, what we were...I don’t know? It’s different,” Zuko rubs at his neck awkwardly. “Did you not feel the same way? Why do you care about all these labels all of a sudden? Why didn’t you fucking tell me you wanted us to make it official?”

“It’s because you’re supposed to know! You’re supposed to know that I hate what you do, that I hate loving you, because it hurts me.”

“So why won’t you go out with me? Is it because I’m a drug dealer?” Zuko’s mad, twisting the rings on his fingers while impatiently waiting on her answer.

“Not exactly,” Katara quips, averting her eyes from his fiery gaze. “It’s mainly because you don’t tip when we go out to eat.”

“Bullshit!” he howls.

“You need to tip at least 20%!”

“Katara.” He takes a deep breath in. “Why don’t we just make this official?”

She’s worrying at her lip. Trying desperately to remember the breathing exercises her therapist had recommended before she started crying and did something crazy like suck his dick because he looked hot when he was angry. “Zuko, as much as you’d like to keep pretending that we could ever be a thing, I can’t. I can’t keep holding onto this fucking unrealistic dream. These unrealistic expectations! What do you want me to do? Pray for the day you get bored of dealing or hanging out with the rich kids or making out with sorority girls so you could come back to me at night? Because I’m fucking pathetic and let you back every single time?”

She sees him spluttering, trying to desperately hold onto a solid response that could sway her decision. “Katara, you know how much I care about you. But you would never get it! You would never get someone like me!”

She scoffs. “Try me. What don’t I get about you, Zuko?”

“That being with those people, and dealing makes me feel like more than just a poor kid with no parents and no fucking future.” Zuko huffs out the confession as though he was holding it in for a millenium.

“I get it, ok I understand but-”

Zuko steps back from her, as though she’s slapped him straight across the face. “No, Katara. You don’t. You don’t fucking get it. You get to cosplay as poor. Pretend that you have to budget when Sokka could easily handle everything if things go wrong.”

Katara’s angry, angry at herself. For hurting Zuko with her careless words, for looking so fucking stupid. “Ok, fine. You’re right.” She surprises even herself at her confession. "I don’t get it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be fucking worried about you? That I’m terrified about what could go wrong? One wrong move and you could fucking die! You think the dean is going to let any of those rich assholes take the fall for anything? No, they’re going to blame it on the disposable kid on Financial Aid,” she wails at the top of her lungs.

She searches his eyes for any understanding, for any reaction to what she was saying. His jaw is set in a determined look, the kind of look she knew was unwavering, was unable to be changed no matter what. She sucks in a breath of air, praying for any sort of strength. “How about you do you, and I do me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Zuko squeezes out. He’s rushing out the door, slamming it on his way out.

//

“I knew I could smell the cock on you! You rode that dick like a stolen car, didn’t you?” Suki bellows, cackling.

“Please, I will fucking block you,” Katara wearily threatens, without any might behind it. She’s, predictably, in one of Zuko’s old t shirts from when he played soccer in high school, slapping on moisturizer before she could retire to bed. “Zuko stopped anything from happening when he came in and went 'New York after Hottie said she looked like Beyonce' on his ass.

Toph grunts over the line. “So what’s the deal with you guys? He’s dealing you drugs and dick now? You’re fucking the weed man for weed? Or are you fucking the dick man for dick? At least you’re not fucking the tweet man for tweets.”

Katara pauses in patting in the cream on her face. “How does this make any sense to you? Like do you not hear yourself speak?”

“It makes perfect sense to me, slut.”

Suki jumps in before low blows could be dealt and the girls start making fun of each others foundation not matching. “You know what, I bet Zuko’s selling whole ass cilantro and/or oregano and no one says anything because he’s fine.”

Katara pauses in applying her lip balm, a call from Zuko popping up threatening to end her call with her girls. “Zuko’s calling?” she questions.

“This late?” Toph is in between bites of her pepperoni Hot Pocket.

Suki sighs. “Listen, Katara. Girls don’t win when it comes to love, we never win. Maybe you should take a break from all this Zuko mess, and I don’t know. Pick up a hobby. Go back to therapy.”

But Katara knew something was wrong. She could sense it, just feel it inside her. Something was inherently wrong. As though the universe was whispering this to her, pleading with her to listen. “I’ll call you guys back, ok?”

“This is the future Stephanie Meyer wanted. For girls to be pathetically in love with pale, emo guys,” Toph miserably whimpers after Katara leaves their call.

Katara heart felt like it could fall out of her ass and then jump back in her mouth with how loudly it was beating. She’s running, clad in only the t shirt and her slides. They were threatening to slip off at any second from how fast her feet were forcing them to pound at the pavement. Word of the wise, don’t fucking run in slides.

“Don’t fucking hurt him!” She screams, expandable baton whipped out and ready to pummel any bitch dumb enough to hurt Zuko while she’s around. A few guys were standing around Zuko’s limp body, about to lay another painful blow against his bruised visage when she starts wildly beating them with her baton. She’s shrieking at the top of her lungs, scaring them enough for all of them to disperse. They all ran off before they had to deal with whatever the fuck Katara was doing. Crazy wasn’t in their agenda that night, only beating up good looking dealers.

“Oh, Zuko.” Katara immediately lets go of the weapon, dropping down to her knees to look at him.

Turns out, everyone wants a shot at the king.

She sits herself down and gently cradles Zuko’s head in between her hands before placing it in her lap. He closes his eyes and musters the strength to give her a small smile.

“Thank you, Katara.” She’s trying her best to hold back her tears. The gravel is scraping unforgivably against her legs, the cold causing her throat to begin to itch. She’s shivering as she types in “911.”

Zuko lifts a battered arm to swat quickly at her fingers. “Can we just Uber to the hospital? I don’t want to drop two racks on an ambulance.”

“Zuko!” Katara squeals. It works, he’s got her to smile in spite of all the drama, all the tears. It’s so easy for them to be like this together. Just enjoying the moment, just being themselves. “You know, I’m sorry for ever saying you look like an angry snake. You still do, but I’m sorry.”

“I hate you,” he says without any commitment to the spite.

“You don’t.”

“I know.” He lets her finish ordering the Uber before speaking again. “I love you.”

She runs her fingers in his hair. “I know.”

“Say it back, please?” He has the audacity to pout despite being beaten nearly half to death.

“I’m scared,” she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with his intense gaze.

“I know.”

//

“Zuko! What happened?” Iroh’s running as fast as he can, still clad in his sleepwear. He sees the pretty girl that the nurses warned has refused to leave the boy’s side for the past few hours, never letting go of his hand. She’s even had the gall to snap the nurses who would show up to their shift a few minutes late.

He sees his nephew rub comforting circles in the girls’ hand with his thumb, looking at her before he could make eye contact with his uncle. Right when he’s about to say something, he’s interrupted.

“He was protecting me. We were walking in a bad part of town because I really wanted to get ice cream, and...we got mugged.” She finishes lamely, whispering the last few words. “They hit him first and then were trying to steal my purse. They got even more mad when he started yelling ‘don’t hurt her!’ He jumped in front of me before they could do anything.”

The two share a look and a smile. Zuko’s grip on Katara’s hand grows impossibly tigther.

[biggy-habes]

So another year came to an end. But not just the end of a year, but the end of the decade! The '10s have come to an end. With the end of every year there is always a reflection. What happened? What was great? What really sucked? What could I have done differently? What do I hope for in the new year? Well, this was not just a single year but an entire decade to process! In the past 10 years I have lived in 3 different states. I've worked 4 different jobs. And like a typical drifter, I am a bit private with my past. I seem to just appear at a new job in a new state every couple of years and apart from some lingering drama I seem to have an undisclosed past. There are many of you who did not know me before I came to North Carolina. There are quite a few of you who did not know me before I was in recovery. And only a few of you who knew me before I lived in New York (the first time). I have lived several lives and have displayed countless shades of personality. Well, here is your chance to catch a glimpse of what my life has been like. Well, for these past 10 years anyways. The ups, the downs, the shitty heartaches, and the bitchin' experiences. A lot has happened and my memory is absolutely horrible, so I will recruit the assistance of my timeline on The Facebook and a few Spotify playlists. I have added a few songs to give a soundtrack as you are reading. I carefully selected these to be specific to the time period as well as where I was during that era. So now, here is a walk down memory lane. The Tens of Haber.

I welcomed 2010 in at a 12 Step Recovery function in Lawton, Oklahoma. I had recently moved back to Lawton after spending a year working in Washington, DC. You see, I had grown roots while stationed in Oklahoma during my time in the service. Life apparently felt like that I needed a second tour, but this time as a civilian. I had carried a lot of emotional baggage with me from my year living in Maryland, and I believed that running and starting a new life was the best course of action. When I returned to Lawton I was losing my mind. I was straight off my rocker! I was at the height of one of my worst mental breakdowns. I recently moved back to Lawton, Oklahoma. By choice. From Maryland. Yeah. See the previous statement. Anyways,  I was waist deep in 12 step programs and played a very active role in my local Narcotics Anonymous group. But one thing that I had always had was a weakness for women. I would fall hard for girls that I had no business being with. At this particular time I was messing around with girls from the local halfway house. And I was getting the results that you may expect. I had fallen hard for a girl named "Lori" (no need to drag her real name into this), who I allowed to tear into my life and my heart like a goddamn tornado! She had recently started coming to meetings after ending up how most addicts end up in the rooms. The courts. She was what you would refer to as "adorable". Short dark hair that seemed to reflect light with its shine. She had deep, sultry blue eyes with long, fluttering eyelashes. When she started to show attention to me I was immediately became hooked. When things came crashing down and my heart got crushed I started sliding down the slippery slope of sanity. Fortunately I had an amazing friend, Nicole, who lived in Oklahoma City. Nicole is one of the most enjoyable people that I have had in my life. We briefly dated and she has played an incredibly important role in my story!  I have so many wonderful stories and experiences involving us. Stories that I will save for another post.

 Anyways, Nicole and I share the same birthday, and we both love to go big so we both took a trip to Boston to celebrate my 31st birthday. As it turns out the Yankees were in town so I fulfilled a lifelong dream of watching the Sox and Yankees play in Fenway Park! We got lost in downtown Boston and had to find our way back to our hotel using public transportation in the middle of the night. Nicole, who has lived in Oklahoma all of her life, got to get a wonderful glimpse of the not-so-nice parts of South Boston. It was a great birthday weekend for the both of us.

 I got back from our trip with a clear head and I decided to get my ass back in school. I remained active in my NA group (shoutout to Different Way in Lawton, OK! That place was my home for a long time!)  I may appear salty sometimes when speaking of my time in NA, but recovery mad a lot of positive changes in my life. One of those changes was gracing me with the motivation to complete my Bachelor's Degree. My apartment was an 8 minute ride away from the local university (Cameron University…GO PIONEERS, BITCHES!!!). I was able to focus my energy on studying. I have always had a knack for school, and I really enjoyed studying psychology and sociology so I was easily able to focus on my schoolwork. I was working a side job as a per diem psychometrist for a neuropsychologist named Dr. Hamil. I have so much credit to give to him for taking me on as a mentor. He saw something special in me. He saw talent. And I was happy to work for him whenever he needed me to. I was taking a lot of trips to Oklahoma City for testing assignments in assisted living facilities. And to be honest I was making a decent amount of scratch doing it. Now my full time job was working with the trainees going through Fort Sill that were having a difficult time adjusting to military life. On slow days I would have plenty of opportunity to work on the testing data that I had collected over the weekend. One day while scoring testing paperwork that I had sprawled all over my desk there was a knock on my office door. It was the chief of the clinic giving a potential psych tech the grand tour.  "Mr. Haber, I would like you to meet one of the interviews for the tech position." She was slim and stylish, with long, dark hair and a smile that seemed to radiate comfort. And that was the first time I laid my eyes on the woman who I would eventually ask to be my wife. She extended her warm, slender hand. "Hello! I'm Amanda."

Our first encounter was short and sweet. And to be honest, it really did not leave much of an impact. A few months would pass before I would learn that she was hired. So this would be the first time that Amanda would actually enter into my life. By the time she was hired I was back working at the main behavioral health clinic on Fort Sill. I shared an office with several other psych techs. At any one time there could be 8 or more of us fighting over a computer. I walked into the clinic and was told a crop of newbies had started. I went in to introduce myself. And there she was. I reintroduced myself and blushed a little when she told me that she remembered me from our first encounter. We commenced with the getting-to-know-you chit chat. As the weeks went on we talked more and more, and flirting began. She knew about my side job in the city and asked if she could sit in on a session with me to learn more about what I do. So one night after work her and I drove to OKC for a 4 hour testing session with an ADHD child who was bouncing all over the room. Afterwards we stopped at McDonalds on our way back to Lawton and shared a 20 piece Chicken McNugget (because yo boy Haber is classy!). I would later find out that she had no interest in learning about psychometry. She just wanted a reason to spend time with me. Anyways, while driving back I mentioned that MC Hammer was going to be at the Oklahoma State Fair and if she would like to go. And that, my friends, is how my relationship with Amanda began. At an MC Hammer concert! In TRUE Haber form!

Eventually Amanda and I started dating. And it was incredible! She was a great woman. And she was great for me. When we had met I was going through a lot of internal strife, and being with her was calming me down. That November, after discussing the idea with Amanda (and after we got back together following a HUGE argument and eventual "break") we decided to adopt a pup. I went to the pound on Fort Sill. I walked down the row of cages and looked at every one of the hopeful pups. I stopped at this scrawny auburn-colored little shit who was barking as loud as he could as he put on his meanest look. But there was something in his eyes that told me that he has been in some shit and he was just needing someone to love him. I could relate to that. I asked the Poundtender (I'm really not sure what the manager of a pound would be referred to as, so we will go with this) about him and he told me that he was surrendered by an elderly couple for being too aggressive. I asked if I could take him for a walk in the yard. I sat on the grass and reached out my hand and he timidly came over to me, not certain whether to trust me or not. This was all it took for me. On November 8, 2010, I took Fennie into my home and into my life. Which means that it has been him and I for an entire decade!  Women and jobs would come and go, but he has remained by my side through all of it. He truly is my Ryde or Die!

The winter this year was unusually harsh in Oklahoma. It seemed as if at least once a week work was closed due to ice and snow. I was living in a shitty 1 BR apartment on the borders of the Lawton hood and the heat just was not capable of handling the cold temperatures for so long. There were several days where Amanda, Fennie, and I would just huddle around the fireplace and turn the oven on to keep us warm. December rolled around, and we were still in the still-kinda-dating-but-not-sure-where-this-is-going phase so I chose to spend Christmas with my family. My sister had been living in Georgia at the time and my mother had recently moved up there as well. Two days before to make the long drive to Atlanta I received a call from an old friend Jake. Jake and I had worked together at a treatment center in Tampa. He informed me that a mutual friend of ours, Emilio, was reported missing. Emilio was a gentle soul who, like most of us that got deep in the drug lifestyle, had his share of demons. But he was a kind and fair man who had a heart that was filled with love for others. He was a new daddy and one night he just vanished. While walking into Moe's to have dinner with my family Jake called to let me know that Emilio's body had been found. I will never forget that Christmas. I sat in front of my loaded burrito with a dazed feeling all over my body. Emilio was a remarkable human being, and the world lost a great man the day that he was taken from us.  

2011 began with Amanda and I…well…shit was getting kinda real.  

Amanda and I ended up making the decision that I would move into her apartment. The reasoning that she gave was that it would be more economical, but I am sure that her being afraid of staying at my shitty apartment played a major role.  Around this time I also started getting an itch to do something more with myself. I was one year away from completing my Bachelors degree and I was starting to question what I was going to do with myself now that I had no schoolwork to complete or classes to attend. This was when the idea came to me….BAM! I am going to become Dr. Haber! So this was when I made the decision to pursue my PhD in Psychology.  If I had only known how much of an uphill climb the next 3 years would be on me because of this decision, perhaps I would have reconsidered. I developed a plan of action. I would boost my vita with extracurricular positions and accolades. I was asked to join the psychology honor society and attend the Psychology Club meetings. I worked with an outstanding neuropsychologist and mentor named Dr. Jason Albano, who pushed me to be the best PhD candidate that I could possibly be. I would spend hours in his office just asking for direction and recommendations. He suggested that I take the Psychometrist Certification exam, the gold standard in the field of psychometry. Dr. Albano would help me find time to study and my colleagues were an invaluable resources.

I will get more into the certification exam. But first, I am aware that I dropped a bit of a twist earlier with the Starting Attending Mass Again comment. As you could probably deduct from my postings on The Facebook that this just ain't me! Well, let me tell you about my Catholic Jon phase. Gowing up I attending Mass every Sunday with my grandfather. This was mostly due to the fact that he would buy me McDonalds afterwards. I never really had a strong belief in a god. Even as a kid I remember reading my CCD workbook and would think "Hey, wait a second. Something does not add up."  It was once I got sent to rehab that I slowly started to build a belief in a higher power. We would get taken to 12 Step meetings and I would hear everyone talk about how you can't make it in recovery without a Higher Power. So, I guess I better get one of those! So I would work with my sponsor and talk about it at meetings and eventually I had some sort of Higher Power of my own. It hit all of the qualifications that they told me. It was loving. It was forgiving. It was greater than me. Cool cool cool. Let's go full speed ahead with this whole recovery thing. It wasn’t until I started seeing a girl named Jill in Oklahoma that I was able to call it by the name God. I would attend church with her and one day I decided to go up and get "saved". And ever since then I started learning more about Christianity and my idea of God would change as I grew. I started going back to Mass after encouragement from a friend who was heavily into the Catholic Life. One thing about me is that I latch onto something and go deep into whatever that might be. Catholicism was no different. Before too long I was absorbing anything involving Catholic Dogma that I could get my hands on. Every night I would pray the Rosary. During Lent I would practice self-mortification. When Amanda and I started she started attending Mass with me and it became a fairly strong bond in our relationship. She was accepting of my zeal towards my beliefs at the time and would support me however she could. This was something that I would eventually take for granted, and what would be a major factor in the demise of our relationship.

And that is where I will end this chapter. I will get further into all of the changes that 2011 would bring. I will label this period the "Amanda Era".

Now I will say that there was a lot of heartache involved in the ending of our relationship. However, I will only write about her in a positive light. She played a very important role in my story, and there were so many great memories in my story that involved her. At this point time has faded most of the hurtful memories and the good ones are what remained. So stayed tuned for the next chapter where we will tag along with Amanda and Jon on their journeys around the country.