#suki's look of sheer relief!!!!!!!!

[josephgraham]

EASTENDERS | 25.12.2023

[xmaudx]

The Phoenic Burns

Chapter 8:

The faint sound of crackling fire and the distant echo of voices pulled y/n out of the darkness. She felt her body sink into the soft wet earth as she forced her eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the night. Her body ached, every nerve screaming in protest as she tried to move. The memory of Overhaul’s touch, the way her skin had begun to disintegrate, was fresh in her mind. Panic surged through her as she remembered the fight, the sheer helplessness she’d felt against his terrifying power.

But then she felt something warm and solid against her hand, grounding her in reality. She looked down to see Bakugou’s hand tightly gripping hers, his palm rough but comforting. He was kneeling beside her, his usually fiery eyes filled with an uncharacteristic worry.

“You’re awake,” he muttered, his voice low but edged with relief.

Y/N tried to speak, but her throat was dry, and all she managed was a weak croak. Bakugou shook his head, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

“Don’t try to talk idiot. You’re still healing,” he said, his tone softer than she’d ever heard it.

She let her head fall back against the ground, her gaze shifting to the sky above. The stars were out, twinkling faintly through the canopy of trees. The firelight flickered in the corner of her vision, casting dancing shadows on the forest floor. It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos she had just endured.

“What… happened?” she managed to rasp out, her voice hoarse.

Bakugou’s eyes darkened, a scowl crossing his face. “You almost got yourself killed, what on earth were you thinking?!.”

Y/N winced at his words, the memory of Overhaul’s quirk tearing through her flesh still vivid in her mind. She glanced down at her side, expecting to see the damage, but instead, she found her skin mostly intact, though bruised and tender.

Bakugou followed her gaze and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Ochacko and I managed to patch you up,” he said gruffly. “That bastard did a number on you, but you’ll be fine. You just need to rest.”

Y/N nodded weakly, her thoughts drifting back to the fight. She had been so close to death, so close to losing everything. The image of Eri, the terrified little girl, flashed in her mind, and she felt a pang of guilt. She had promised to protect her, but she had nearly failed.

“Eri,” she whispered, her voice cracking with worry.

Bakugou’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded toward the other side of the clearing. Y/N followed his gaze and saw Eri, the little girl curled up in a blanket, fast asleep by the fire. Todoroki sat nearby, keeping watch with a calm yet vigilant expression.

“She’s safe,” Bakugou reassured her. “We got her away from that bastard. She’s been through hell, but she’ll be okay.”

Relief flooded through Y/N, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She had survived, and so had Eri. They had made it through, even if just barely.

But the memory of Overhaul’s power still lingered, a dark cloud over her thoughts. She knew that this was only the beginning, that there were far worse dangers ahead. And the fear of what was to come, of the suffering she knew she would have to endure, weighed heavily on her heart.

Bakugou seemed to sense her turmoil, his expression hardening as he leaned closer. “Listen to me,” he said firmly. “You’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. You got that?”

Y/N looked up at him, the intensity in his gaze sending a wave of reassurance through her. She nodded, the knot of fear in her chest loosening slightly.

“Good,” he grunted, finally releasing her hand. “Now get some rest. You’re no use to anyone if you’re half-dead.”

Despite his gruff tone, Y/N could hear the underlying concern in his voice, and it brought a small, grateful smile to her lips. She closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling her back into the embrace of sleep.

"thank you..suki"

As she drifted off, she could still feel the warmth of Bakugou’s hand, a silent promise that no matter what came next, she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

-

Waking up again, y/n found herself lying beneath a makeshift canopy of branches and leaves. The bright light of the sun filtered through the foliage indicated it was morning. Her body ached, but the searing pain had dulled to a manageable throb. Looking over she'd find the group sitting down in the distance. Slowly getting to her feet she'd walk over, watching as each one noticed her presence

"you're awake!" Mina exclaimed softly before hugging the girl "how are you feeling"

"better but i do need to breathe" quickly moving away from you mina would smile as you laughed softly

"oops anyways come we've started discussing our next moves"

Sitting beside Mina and Denki she'd wave at Eri who was sat on Deku's lap, making a mental note to catch up with her before focusing on Shoto's briefing

"He might have managed to get away but Overhaul remains a threat. We'll need a solid plan if we are to confront him and bring him back to the castle for more information"

Eri's grip on Deku tightened as she lowered her gaze "I'm sorry..I'm putting you all in danger"

Y/n shook her head firmly smiling gently at the girl in an attempt to comfort her "None of this is your fault Eri, we're here to protect you"

Bakugou nodded. "Damn right. And we don't run from a fight."

Shoto glanced around the group. "Our priority should be to get Eri to a safe location where Overhaul can't reach her before a fight occurs."

Mina tapped her chin thoughtfully. "There are some old hideouts used by resistance groups near the eastern edge of the forest. They might serve as a temporary refuge."

"Good idea," Kirishima agreed. "It's better than staying out in the open."

Jirou checked her equipment. "I'll try to reach out to our allies, but the signal's weak out here."

Denki smirked. "Leave the tech stuff to me. I can boost the signal."

As they began making preparations, Y/N attempted to stand. Bakugou was immediately at her side, offering support. "Don't push yourself dumbass," he muttered.

She gave him a grateful look. "I won't be a burden. I can manage."

He raised an eyebrow. "Who said anything about you being a burden?"

She smiled softly. "Thank you, Katsuki."

He blinked at the use of nickname, whilst familiar it felt oddly nice. "Just stay close," he huffed.

-

The group set off cautiously, moving through the dense forest with heightened awareness. The trees stood like silent sentinels, their branches weaving a canopy that filtered the sunlight into scattered beams. The oppressive atmosphere from earlier seemed to have lifted slightly, but the sense of urgency remained.

Eri walked beside Y/N, her small hand clutching tightly. "Do you think we'll be ok?" she asked quietly.

Y/N looked down at her, offering a reassuring smile. "I promise we'll do everything we can to keep you safe."

The path ahead was treacherous, with uneven terrain and hidden pitfalls. At one point, Denki nearly stumbled into a concealed ravine, only to be saved by Kirishima's quick reflexes.

"Watch your step," Kirishima warned. "This place is full of surprises."

Mina pointed ahead. "I think I see the hideout. Just beyond those rocks."

A cleverly concealed entrance was nestled between two large boulders, covered by thick vines and foliage. Shoto led the way, using his ice to reinforce the entrance once everyone was inside.

The interior was modest but functional—a single large room with remnants of old supplies and makeshift furniture. Dust covered most surfaces, indicating it hadn't been used in some time.

"Not exactly homey," Denki commented, brushing cobwebs from a wooden chair.

"Better than being out in the open," Jirou replied, setting down her equipment.

Bakugou paced near the entrance. "We can't stay here long. Overhaul's gang are probably searching the forest."

Shoto nodded. "Agreed. But we need rest and a concrete plan."

Y/N sat on an old crate, exhaustion catching up to her. Eri settled beside her, leaning against her arm.

Mina approached with a makeshift medical kit. "Let me check your wounds."

Y/N sighed but allowed Mina to tend to her injuries. "We need to figure out how to counter Overhaul's quirk," she said.

"Physical attacks might be more effective," Kirishima suggested. "He can't disassemble me when I'm hardened."

"But getting close is risky," Jirou pointed out. "We need a distraction or some way to limit his abilities."

Denki snapped his fingers. "What if we overload his senses? Bright lights, loud noises—could throw him off balance."

Bakugou considered this. "It's worth a shot. Combine that with a coordinated attack, and we might have a chance."

Eri looked up hesitantly. "There's... something else," she murmured.

Everyone turned their attention to her. "What is it, Eri?" Y/N asked gently.

She fidgeted nervously. "My quirk... Rewind. It can undo things—like injuries or even quirks."

Shoto's eyes widened slightly. "You can reverse someone's quirk?"

She nodded. "But I can't control it well. Last time I tried, it hurt someone."

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We can help you learn to control it."

Eri's gaze was uncertain. "What if I make things worse?"

"You won't," Deku said firmly. "We'll make sure of it."

Mina smiled encouragingly. "With a bit of practice, you might be the key to stopping Overhaul."

Jirou adjusted her earpiece. "We can set up a training schedule. But we'll need more resources."

Denki's communicator beeped suddenly. "Hey! I've got a signal!"

"Who is it?" Kirishima asked.

Denki fiddled with the device. "It's Uraraka and Lida! They're nearby!"

Relief washed over the group. "Tell them our location," Shoto instructed. "We could use their help."

Within the hour, footsteps echoed outside the hideout. The group tensed until familiar voices called out.

"Guys? It's us!" Uraraka emerged, followed by Tenya Iida

"You guys made it!" Deku greeted them warmly.

He smiled broadly. "We were worried when we lost contact after the initial attack. Glad to see you're both okay."

Iida adjusted his glasses. "We came as soon as we received your message."

Ochako approached Eri, offering a kind smile. "Hello there. You must be Eri."

Eri nodded shyly, clutching onto y/n's arm. "Hi."

Introductions were made, and the group filled in the newcomers on the situation.

"So, Overhaul is after Eri because of her quirk," Deku summarized, his expression thoughtful. "And he's powerful enough to counter most of our attacks."

Bakugou crossed his arms. "We were thinking of a coordinated assault—overload his senses and strike hard."

Deku nodded. "It's a solid plan. With all of us working together, our chances improve."

Iida agreed. "We must also consider evacuation routes and backup plans."

Ochako looked at Eri. "If we can keep him distracted, maybe Eri can use her quirk to neutralize his."

Eri's eyes widened. "But I don't know if I can."

Y/N squeezed her hand. "We believe in you."

The group spent the next few hours strategizing, each member contributing their strengths. As night fell, they settled in for some rest before the impending confrontation.

Y/N found herself outside the hideout, gazing up at the stars peeking through the canopy. Bakugou joined her, leaning against a tree.

"You should be resting," he said.

"Could say the same to you, usually you'd be out by 8," she replied lightly.

He shrugged. "Too much on my mind."

She glanced at him. "Thank you, for everything."

He met her gaze, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "Just doing what needs to be done."

A comfortable silence settled between them. After a moment, he spoke again.

"Don't scare me like that again."

She raised an eyebrow. "Since when do I scare you?"

He scoffed. "You know what I mean."

A small smile played on her lips. "I'll do my best."

He nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Good."

"The stars look so pretty tonight"

"Indeed" Bakugou replied as he continued to focus his attention on y/n, staring only at her

"Kats.. what are you doing out here" y/n turned around to seek out the new voice only to find herself staring at the brown haired girl. Her baby pink night dress hung to her frame, hugging the right curves as she smiled at the both of them

"oh it's the both of you" y/n couldn't stop herself from clicking her tongue. Since when did she give him a nickname?

"Uraraka you look cold here" The blonde man took off his red cloak moving over to the woman to wrap it round her shoulders. Y/n looked away ignoring the way she looked up at him like he was hers. Biting her lip she'd sigh before looking up at Bakugou his eyes already on her. It was an unsettling look one she couldn't read.

"I'm going to bed"

Before the two could respond y/n walked off. It wasn't a matter of pride or how she felt hurt she couldn't share a moment with just Bakugou in peace. She remembered that look on Uraraka's face. She was in love with him. It's the same look she shared with Bakugou as well.

[tteokdoroki]

assistance please! | e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.6K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: workplace!au, internship!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: eijirou kirishima loved being an intern, he had great co-workers, had a shot at his dream job, his boss had taken quite liking to him and of course, being the favourite intern had many, many perks.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut,  ( kirishima is in his twenties ), power dynamics, sub top!kirishima + power bottom!reader,   heavy!praise kink, heavy!miss + mommy kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral ( female receiving ), squirting, tummy bulges, cumplay, creampie.

♡ author’s note(s): hihi everyone!! today i present to you my contribution to the bnharem on the job collab! i had a lot of fun playing with different dyanimics in this fic, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! make sure you chek out the other works from the other amazing creators!! <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“oi! ‘shima! you’re needed in the boss’ office right away, she’s got important business for ya!, wants t’have a word. now.”

eijirou ducks his head politely in a sign of gratitude, thanking his co-worker and superior, keigo— for the heads up. keigo, or better known as hawks around the office ( for his fast speeds in completing work and luring lonely interns into his bed ), was a nice guy— second to the lady in charge and way too chatty. he was a bit of an air head, got the job done when it needed to be but that’s what kirishima was for, the replacement while keigo took his vacation time in the middle of the year like an idiot.

he wasn’t too sure why you kept the blonde around, he supposed it was because he was pretty but eijirou wouldn’t dare question you— he needed this internship if he was going to make it big in the sports news reporting scene. he’d been majoring in sports and healthcare at college, two years away from graduating when the opportunity to work for yn ln, one of the biggest sports journalists in japan had landed right in his lap. of course he was going to take it, of course he was going to do everything he could not to fuck it up.

in the cubicles beside him, the other interns try to muffle their giggles and titters of curious laughter as the red head gathers himself for the meeting.

“oooo, i wonder what you did this time,” kaminari teases from the right, leaning over his side of the cubicle to fiddle with the odd bits on kirishima’s desk. denki kaminari was another person kirishima wondered how the hell he got into the programme, but then again he was pretty to look at and brought a lighter air to boring office days.

“nothing! i’m innocent!” eijirou defends, hands releasing his files to fly up in defence.

the other interns, going by the names of mina ashido, kyouka jirou and hanta sero snicker amongst themselves at the interaction.

“don’t believe it, s’obviously more than nothin’ if you’re always getting called down’ta the boss lady’s office.” bakugou, another intern, grunts out with his nose deep buried in files for upcoming reports. he was a little too rough for the journalism lifestyle but got the job done. his attitude wasn’t for everyone. “they’re probably fuckin’.”

mina giggles and kirishima steps out into the paths between desks. “don’t be such a sourpuss ‘suki, just ‘cause you’re not her favourite.”

a lose ‘shut up’ is huffed, before katsuki turns to face his taller, buffer companion. “just don’t be late, bunch of us are goin’ for lunch later.” he adds and turns back to his paperwork.

“affirmative, catch ya later!”

the group waves the red head off as he heads to the elevator directing him to the main floor— this is where all the higher ups worked. the journey wasn’t unfamiliar to the intern, he wasn’t like the others and had the steps to your office memorised by heart. sometimes it was like walking home, to his comfort and sanctuary away from the stressors of work and the outside world— he knew that was bad, but you were so kind, such a sweet and understanding boss he couldn’t help but develop some level of comfort towards you.

to most, it seemed like eijirou kirishima was just unbelievably close to his boss, that you’d taken him under your wing.

he however, knew what you had, meant more.

a fluttering warmth spreads across the intern’s chest as he approaches the door to your main office and he knocks. behind it lay mountains of secrets upon secrets, things that kirishima knows about you that no one else does. the walls have hidden words, written across them in fonts of passion and admiration and it’s all that he can think about. you’re all that he can think about, and it’s still wrong. there’s a shuffling deep in the room and some flitters of paper here and there before your soft, velveteen voice breaks through the barrier between you. the one thing keeping you apart.

“come in,” you call smoothly and kirishima follows your orders swiftly, if not eagerly, entering the four walls of your office. ruby eyes dart across the room to locate your position and his heart skips a beat when he finds you, body leaning over your dark oak desk, papers scattered across it while you frantically sift through numbers and stocks and nonsense way above the level of a journalism intern. but even amongst the chaos, you’re beautiful— eyes sparkling with productivity, lined in little flecks across the colour of your orbs. the way you dress never fails to steal away eijirou’s breath— a tight fitting leather skirt that hugs your mature curves and a white blouse with the bottoms popped open— just enough for him to get a peek at your cleavage.

the poor intern has to hold himself back from blurring the lines of work and pleasure to shove himself deep into your chest, suck and lick at your plush breasts until he was high off the taste of your skin. but he wouldn’t do that, yet. not without your permission. “oh eiji baby, there you are!” you coo to the red head, bright smile stretching across blood diamond painted lips. you cross the room in three short strides, tall black heels clacking against the smooth white marble until you’re standing in front of and looking up at kirishima. “was starting to think keigo had ditzed like a pretty boy and had forgotten to send you my way, darling.”

eijirou’s cheeks flame at the smoothness in your syrupy voice, like sweet honey to his hears, the pet name striking a familiar heat deep within him. you always had a way with your words— enticing, almost like a siren calling out to him despite the taboo aura that surrounded what you had. whatever it was— he just knew it was more than your typical boss-intern relationship.

“even if he had, ‘m more than happy to be of service to you ma’am,” he responds almost a little too quickly, large hand rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his baby hairs to ground himself.

you cock your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “always such a helpful, good boy eijirou,” you hum, lips pulling into a devilish red smile and the praise causing a new spark of lustful electricity to crackle through the air. “i could use a little assistance, please, i have this awful meeting with the board today, spent all night preparing and couldn’t go home, i could use some stress relief,”

kirishima’s gaze becomes hooded as he looks down at you, a familiar and bright desire burning in the pits of his stomach. “oh yeah? sucks that the paperwork kept you up all night ma’am…” he trails off, choosing to let his fingers dance up and down your sides— snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into him. you couldn’t or you wouldn’t go home. he’s not sure if he cares about the answer right now— not when you tremble in his grip, itching for something, anything from him. “how long do you reckon we have ms. ln?”

“ten to fifteen minutes sweetheart, give or take,”

you grin widens, taking an impossibly closer step to your intern— pressing the swell of your breasts against his hard chest. he can feel your nipples pebbling through your blouse, almost visible behind the white fabric and god the way you look up at him— he can no longer wait, he needs you. right here and right now.

“will you be needing my assistance throughout, ma’am?” kirishima asks, voice dropping a few octaves until it falls into a low growl.

“i expect it. you are my intern after all.”

the words laced with deep huskiness, the proximity of your bodies and the rising heat in the room is what leads you both to tumble into the next series of events. before he can’t register it, your mouths are slotted together in a fast paced and sloppy kiss, kirishima’s body manoeuvres you around the office, marking out a familiar pathway to your desk—his tongue remains sliding over yours in rapid movements as he commits your taste to memory, refreshing those from the last time he had you like this. yet every time you kiss and his tongue glides over yours, you taste sweeter than before; like peaches and morning coffee— you feel softer in his grip, every dip and curve to your body like it was built for him.

eijirou can't stop thinking of that last time, tucked away in your office after dark when your dainty hands pawed desperately at his hips to bring him closer or scratched at his back from sheer pleasure— kirishima wants to see you like that against, using his own hands to tear through your shirt and send buttons flying across the room. something in him just wants to do good for you, have you ache for him and earn himself some of your sweet praise. even as you step and stumble towards your work desk, the red-head lets his lips break away from yours, connected by a string of your own saliva before he drops to your neck, lapping tracks over your skin with the temptation to bite down and paint it shades of deep purple and blue.

but there are rules that you both have in place; ways to keep what you have a secret and hidden away from the public eye so that you don’t lose all that you’ve worked for and so kirishima can keep being your precious little intern.

“jump for me, please ma’am,” he whispers heavily into the junction between your neck and your shoulders, breath laboured and warm against your skin that begins to shine with light perspiration. mindlessly, you follow his orders, jumping up while your fingers curl into the mass of red on kirishima’s head and ankles lock around his waist—his hands meet the backs of your doughy thighs, squeezing the flesh between calloused digits while you toe off your heels.

“eiji, you’re so good,” you manage between feather light breaths as they clatter to the floor as the pair of you somehow make your way to the desk chair, pushing and tearing the clothes from one another’s bodies— including your crisp shirt. now seated and left in nothing but your bra, you tug harshly at your intern’s locks and bring his mouth down to yours, allowing them to move together in a dirty, messy kiss. there’s barely any time for you both to mess around, for him to tease you until your limit and you’re crying out for any type of touch from him, so eijirou quickly

flips down your bra, exposing your chest to cool, air conditioned air—not even bothering to unclip the material as his fingers descend on your nipple, pulling and twisting them until your back arches from the stimulation. “hurry, please eijirou,”

obedient as ever, your favourite boy drops to his knees in front of the chair you stay slumped in and with his height, he still manages to tower over you, practically at eye level with hunger framing the ruby of his own. large hands knead at your plush thighs, hiking your skirt up and up to give you room to spread your thighs, cunt growing sticky from anticipation— all from a few measly touches in familiar places. but this is kirishima, and he knows how your body works from countless hours spent after the office closes up— using one another to blow off extra steam. he knows just what makes you tick and moan his name.

logically, eijirou knows that your meeting could start at any minute and even though you’re both in a stickler for time, he still wants to get a taste at your skin before devouring your most intimate parts. he’ll make time to explore every part of you, to assist you in your stress relief. “‘m sorry miss, yn,” he whines needily, watching your chest rise and fall with want, feeling your body heat up and twitch from the ghost of his fingertips across your blemished skin. “gotta have a taste of you before the real deal, hope’ya don’t mind…”

latching onto the left mound of flesh at your exposed chest, kirishima sinks the point of his teeth into the area around your nipple— just enough to graze your skin and pull a sweet mewl from your mouth. you’re both lucky for the soundproof walls, your head thrown back in a lewd moan he lets his pink tongue roll over your bud in vicious circles. heavy, fat globs of saliva pool over the pink muscle, pouring down kirishima’s chin and painting your skin with a slick shine. “h-how...how could i mind angel, not when you treat me s’good,” you heave, vision fading in and out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure flashing through your body in waves of hotness. “always doin’ so well for me eiji, aren’t you such a good boy?”

“yes ma’am,” the intern confirms with a erogenous slur, pacified and content on his knees for you— sucking, licking and biting at your chest to his heart’s content. “‘m your good boy,” he corrects you, however. eijirou feels most happy when grazing his tongue over the swell of your breasts, watching your face carefully for any twitches of delirium, it lets him know how hot aroused he makes you feel— that knowledge shoots straight to his cock, rock hard in his slacks while the redhead watches his boss writhe in her seat all for his eyes only.

such a dazzling view, and it’s all for fucking him.

your perfectly manicured nails run through red hair, scratching deliciously at his scalp until you’re forcing his head back and pulling kirishima off of your breast with a pop. “as much as i love seeing a pretty boy suck on my tits like a baby, we’re pressed for time angel, gonna need you to speed it up a little,” despite the softness to your face and the sudden evenness to the tone of your voice, the words that you speak to eijirou are vulgar, nasty, and turn him on to his wits end. “want you to eat me out eiji, can you do that for me?”

shaking his head, yes, beautiful claret eyes shining with acquiescence, kirishima wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand— like the tainted, dirty intern he is. you sigh down at him salaciously, ready to tear his innocence apart all over again. eijirou was always so willing to please, both in his work and behind closed doors— you would be a fool to not take advantage of that. with brute force, your intern forces your legs apart, eyes rolling back in his skull from the scent of your sex, dripping with your juices right through your underwear and stockings. overexcited, he rips through the flimsy material at your cunt, exposing your panties for him to see.

“you’re so...so wet ms.ln,” kirishima comments observantly, not even bothering to pull your stockings the rest of the way down your legs, instead opting to pull on the whole until it’s wide enough for his mouth to fit. “smell s’good, bet you taste even better,” there’s a patch on the crotch of your panties, darker than the rest of the material from where you leak and without a second thought, the red head instantly surges forward to lick a stripe over it, letting out a choked gripe as the taste of your cream from over the fabric invades his tongue.

you let out a shrill cry, hips jumping up at the first brush of his tongue against your untouched, clothed pussy. you wriggle even as kirishima holds you down, needing the heat of his mouth against you before your meeting starts. but he’s so good, so well trained, reaching up to your hips to yank your panties down in one fluid motion. leaning forward, kirishima savagely buries his face between your doughy thighs, hiking them over his shoulders from beneath the desk. his nose bumps against your clit, swollen from the lack of touch as he greedily inhales your scent once more— without warning, the intern kicks a stripe up the length of your pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth and smiling against your heat.

“d-don’t tease baby, be good for me,” you remind kirishima, your body trembles with anticipation, craving an orgasm to expel the stress of your work days out. the boy between your legs only hums, the sound running straight though cunt and vibrating against it, causing you to gush and spill your arousal out onto the leather seat beneath your cheeks. eijirou feasts on the slick that seeps from your fluttering hole, gliding his tongue up and down your sex, allowing the occasional pressure from his nose to stimulate your bundle of nerves.

the pads of his thighs burn marks into your legs, using them as leverage to pull your heated core further into his mouth, “can’t help it ma’am, y’got such a pretty pussy...s’only right that i worship you…” eijirou breaths right against your puffy folds, eyes trained on the way your hole clenches around nothing. a primal urge flares in his chest, a desire— no, a need— to see you filled with something, any part of him that can make you see stars and fuck you dumb. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry you jus look s’fucking pretty miss…”

attaching his lips to your clit, the redhead pushes the spit gathered on his tongue right over your sloppy sit, hazy ruby stare watching as his saliva mixes with your juices and slides over your empty hole. he follows the oozing trail with his tongue, lapping it up and spewing it back into your sex until the pink muscle slips past your entrance— slipping inside of you with no prior warnings. your knuckles that grasp the arms of the chair as you’re spoiled between your legs by your top intern, his hands snaking their way around the tops of your thighs to spread your sticky pussy lips apart in order to bring more of you to the cool air of the office.

“you like this don’cha? dirty little boy,” you tease the poor boy, watching as his cheeks flame with embarrassment. “being a naughty little intern between your boss’ thighs all to keep on pleasing  her, keep your position at her company, huh? fuck eiji, you just love miss riding your naughty tongue—ohmygod—“

the way you sound, voice smooth like chocolate over the obscene slurping that fills the thats air heavy with the scent of sex and, makes eijirou’s cock jump up, precum oozing from his tip as he begins to rut against the hard floor beneath your desk. he makes an attempt to respond, but your thighs lock his head in place and his words come out muffled against your core. “mph, luh it, you’re s’sexy, please ma’am—“ he mumbles sordidly against you, practically humping the ground at your feet as you pick on him.

for a brief moment, kirishima pulls away to watch you roll your hips into nothing, hot tears beginning to brew into our hooded eyes from the satisfaction he brings you with every flick and flit of his tongue against where you need him most. written in your eyes is the command to keep going, your hands twistingly sharply in red roots to bring the intern back to your sluice, spasming cunt. so he does as he’s told, shoving his tongue deep inside your ribbed, iron hot walls and dragging tip along them to collect and taste strings of your viscous juices.

biting your lip, you do your best to hold back a voracious howl, bucking your hips feverishly into your intern’s face and staining his cheeks with everything that you have— he thrusts his tongue into you to the pace of your own hips, moaning against your slippery slit until your eyes are rolling. “gonna cum from this eiji, from you eatin’ me out like this...jus need a little more— need your fingers pretty boy,” you can feel the twist of the knot in your lower tummy starting to unravel, signifying your oncoming high, and the room starts to spin while kirishima eats you out with new vigour.

“yeah? miss? you’re gonna cum for me?” the intern practically whines and pulls his tongue from your hear, almost crying as his hips thump against the floor desperate for friction. “wanna see you come undone s’bad, please cum for me, please, please—“ eijirou chants, replacing his tongue with two of his thick digits, watching as your slick cunt stretches around them accommodatingly. he jackhammers them inside of you, grunting lowly underneath the slaps of his palm against the meat of your ass, as he returns to your clit to suckle on it hungrily. his fingers curl instantly in search for the spongy spot inside of you— bearing down hard against it once it’s located.

“oh—hah, right there baby— right fuckin’ there—!” you squeal, only egging him on as white starts to cloud your vision, everything sounds so nasty and wet, while eijirou stimulates both of your pleasure spots. it becomes hard to breath, legs wobbling around his broad shoulders, but your intern doesn’t let up, determined to bring you to cloud nine.

“that’s it ma’am, right there—you’re almost there, can feel you clenching around my fingers...please cum, fuck i want your cum, wanna taste you so bad, cum. cum. cum!” and that’s all it takes, eijirou’s pleading voice between your thick thighs to make the coil inside you snap and for your orgasm to wash over you. you convulse in your chair, nectar gushing freely from your raw and overstimulated cunt, spewing all over the redheads face as he continued to lap at your clit to ride out your high.

but he doesn’t stop there, scissoring his fingers deep within your velvet walls as you continue to cum, making you shake your head and wail from the high levels of ecstasy.

“please eiji—n’more, can’t, no—“

“you can miss, i know you can—fuck you look so pretty when you’re about to squirt for me, please…”

as quickly as your first high ended, another one comes crashing over you in harsh waves— rocking your world as clear liquid floods from your pussy— the sheer force of you squirting, pushing kirishima’s fingers out from your tight, sappy hole. your release hits the floor with a crude slap, both of you moaning loudly almost for the whole world to hear. he doesn’t stop sucking, clearing up your pretty cunt even as you fade in and out of consciousness from pleasure— he stays lapping at you with burning, languid strokes of his tongue between your folds even as you weakly attempt to answer the phone now ringing from your desk.

clearing your throat, you muster up the strength to sound professional over the line before picking up the phone and bringing it towards your ear. “good afternoon, this is yn ln of shinku sports reports, bringing you the latest sporting news, how may i help you?”

‘this is the board, we need to discuss this month's stocks and reports.’

from the corner of your eye, you can see kirishima rise from his place underneath your desk— standing tall over you once more while you converse with the directors on the other end of the phone. as quietly as he can, the redhead tears through the buttons on his shirt in a similar way to you, prior to you fucking and unbuckles his slacks. he pulls down his boxers and pants in one go, revealing his thick, hard girth that stands tall and slaps against his stomach— tip an angry shade of red as precum smears across his lower belly.

you nod into the phone, forgetting that the board can’t see you as kirishima lifts you from the chair and lays you on your back across the desk littered with unread papers. “ah yes, i’ve been expecting a call from you…” you whisper so quietly instead, not caring if they’ve missed what you said. you’re hardly paying attention, choosing to wrap a fist around eijirou’s cock, slickly pumping him to prepare him to take you— he parts your thighs, eyes closing and body shuddering above you while you continue to converse with the board.

spreading the droplets of precum across his slit and iron hot tip, kirishima takes his cock from your grasp— heavily slapping it against your sensitive and swollen clit to see you jolt up the desk. “gonna fuck you so good miss, jus’ be good ‘n stay quiet for me okay?” he says, a whimper catching in the tail end of his words. you nod to him, rushed and way too eager, laying your head back on the hard wood your swimming gaze settles on kirishima as he taps the head of his cock against your hole, teasingly pushing it just past your entrance before withdrawing again.

‘ms. ln, are you still there? we really are pressed for time so we would love to start by discussing interviews for the next issue—‘

you forget that you’re still connected on the line, settling for wriggling impatiently underneath your intern, who’s caramel tinted skin glistens with sweat and his cheeks begin to flush with unadulterated desire— all from watching the way your puffy folds lube up his shaft with every push through them. you can see him losing his resolve, just as sensitive as you since he’s been holding back an orgasm and without the hint of a warning, eijirou’s hips jump forward and drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex— brushing against your cervix. you gasp out in surprise, finally losing focus and barely manage a more comprehensive response to the board you have waiting on the line. “y-yes!— yes, yes, i’m still here… you may proceed with the meeting.”

he’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had— and you’d seen a lot being a woman of your caliber this high up in the industry...but no one could compare to the way your sweet, doe eyed gentlemanly little intern filled you up, fat cock stretching your walls even with the shallow thrusts into your cunt he gives you to adjust. the weight of his girth sits heavily inside you, twitching as kirishima slides into you easily due to the stickiness lining your gummy walls, breath shaky and uneven as he holds out for you during this time. you can tell the poor boy isn’t going to last long, fingers sinking into your thighs with a harsh grip while he tries to hold himself back.

such a good boy, always waiting for your every command.

‘so we’d like to talk about the main feature for next month’s issue, do you have anyone in mind?’

the monotone voice of the board member is drowned about by kirishima’s shaky breaths above you, his pleading puppy dog eyes while he stills himself inside your spasming, puckered hole— he waits for permission, following orders like a trained pet even though he can hardly stand it, overwhelmed by the flutter of your sex around him and heat from your body despite thrown over the desk. “y-you’re s’warm...god ma’am...need to—need to move,” the redhead huffs weakly in order to keep himself quiet, a line of sweat dotting his brow. “please,”

you sit up on the desk, legs locking around his slender waist to draw him closer, sheathing more of the poor boy inside of you until he’s completely bottomed out and balls deep inside your pretty cunt. he drops his neck to your shoulder, tongue lolling over your salt licked skin before biting down to pacify himself, sharp teeth almost drawing blood while you adjust the cord of the phone. “i was thinking…thinking that we got the hockey player— the oylmpic champion…” your eyes drift to kirishima’s complacent face, giving him a nod to start moving while he sucks another bruise further down his onto your collarbone. “t-touya...touya todoroki—!”

you hiccup but play it off with a cough when kirishima pulls back his hips, so far that his girth completely leaves you, before he drives himself forward with one powerful thrust and fills you right up again. looking down, you see him bulge in your tummy, the line of his girth prominent against your body— slightly dwarfed in kirishima’s arms. you rock your hips, coaxing your intern into your warmth to help him build up a momentum of thrusts.

‘sounds like a good choice, do we have anyone who could interview him? i believe we can have PR set up an interview this week.’

the desk creaks below you, hard wood groaning along with the red head who hides himself in your neck, squeaking pathetically as he moves inside of you— precum smearing along your gummy walls that welcome his hardened shaft. your pussy opens up for eijirou like it’s welcoming him home, still growing used to the pleasure-filled burn and stretch of him pushing in and out of you. the nerves on his head catch amongst your inner ridges, making his toned body shake in ecstasy.

“m-ma’am, feel s’fucking good, so fucking good...” your intern hums against your salty skin mawkishly, large palms dropping to the flesh of your ass— kneading it to bring you closer to his body— cock barely leaving you due to your proximity. with slow strokes, eijirou fills you up, painting you with what leaks from his tip— prodding at your cervix and brushing up against your sweet spot in ways that make sweet nectar dribble from your hole.

your digits curl in his hair once more, the phone slipping from between your neck and creating rustling on your end. “eijirou,” you sigh breathily, humping back his cock while you squeeze around him selfishly, keeping your intern inside of you. “i-i mean eijirou kirishima, he’s an intern— such a… a good one at that…”

a immodest whimper brews in the base of eijirou’s throat, bubbling against his bruised lips  while you shower him with praise, indirect to him, hand snaking up to the back of your neck— tangling in your baby hairs as he pulls you up to a sloppy kiss, slotting your mouths together and running his tongue over yours. “f-fuck mommy, ‘m i your good boy? please tell me yes, fuck, yn— ma’am,”

kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does devoir and pathos, vulnerability stays written across his handsome features as he succumbs to the mind break the heat of your damp, creamy core as he fucks into you. you throb at his use of mommy, shakily pulling the phone away from your ear to reach up to his own, nipping the earlobe and tugging on it gently. “you’re my good boy baby, keep being good eiji, be quiet...you gotta stay quiet if you want to keep fucking mommy okay? you wanna cum inside me right?” you say, words aberrant and low toned  on your tongue, your intern hisses and whines in response— nodding his head again and letting out a barely coherent ‘yes’. “then shh, baby, let mommy talk yeah?”

“hm’kay,” he babbles, dropping his ruby framed gaze to where your bodies meet, hiking your skirt further up your thighs to get a better view of your cunt staining his heavy balls with a layer of your slick.

‘ms. ln, are you sure that you want an intern to cover this case—’ the board begins to ask you, muffled from the distance away from you both.

picking up the phone again, you pull the line towards you again— mindful of capturing eijirou’s weak little mewls over the device as he languidly pumps himself in and out of you. “i know what i—fuck, what i want. eijirou, will be—oh— on the case. that's final.” you huff, watching your intern fall into a pussyhaze, his precious mind fogging with thoughts of only painting you white inside and out as a reward for helping relieve you of stress. the slow roll of his hips into yours are accompanied by the soft slaps of his skin against your own, wet and sticky— determination to make you feel good crackling across his mind.

‘there’s no need to curse, ma’am, do you need a moment to recollect yourself before we proceed with discussing the other features.’

“i’m fucking fine,” you growl, in anger or need you don’t know. but kirishima frowns, you can feel it as he start nosing up your cheek— swiping his tongue over areas of skin he hasn’t touched just yet— he grunts possessively , unhappy with the use of your title coming from anyone other than him. to prove his point, he pushes your thighs wider apart, letting you drip all over the documents sitting below your ass and ruining the ink— important or not he starts a brutal pace into your cunt and presses down on your tummy so you can feel exactly where eijirou is inside you and know that only he can make you feel this way.

‘ms.ln—‘

“i’m fine. keep going.” you grit your teeth, biting your lip to hold down your panting— again you don’t know who you’re speaking to. your intern who slows the movement of his hips, postponing in and out of your tightened hole, clamping down on him eagerly or the stupid board member giving you grief on the phone.

they proceed to talk, barking out suggestions to your sports magazine, that you hate— even considering bringing in good for nothing athletes who’d treated you like shit in the past, and you’d sworn to never work for them again.

but it’s almost silly, how kirishima lets out small moans of mommy and ma’am, trying to keep your attention on him like you would give up grinding down on your intern’s dick for some prissy member of the board over the phone— but you love the slight possession eijirou has over you, moulding your iron hot walls into the shape of his fat dick that presses up against your pleasure spots, makes you convulse and drawl and become addicted to everything that is him. eijirou kirishima.

“takin’ me so good, so well ma’am...don’t think i can hold on anymore…please,” eijirou warns you, losing control of his body as he takes you for his own like he’s done many times before after hours— your gazes lock, you can see his desperation to ruin you, moan for you despite the people on the phone and the people outside your office.

if he grows too loud, he could give you away— they could be listening in to your poor needy little intern humping you like a feral dog and whining your name. and as much as that thought makes your hole spasm around his fat cock, make his thrusts stutter and eyes screw shut while you moan in sweet, almost silent harmony, you love your job and so weakly, you take two of your fingers, shoving them deep into eijirou’s mouth as it hangs open in heavy pants of warm air. you press down on his wet tongue, fucking into his mouth in tune with the pace of his hips plunging deep within your walls, churning up your syrupy and sticky insides.

“keep quiet, baby,”  you hiss to the redhead, who’s eyes start to brim with fresh hot tears from the overwhelming pleasure. “let mommy take care of this, yeah? finish up so you can let it all out on me.”

he sucks on your fingers to calm himself down, shallow breathing while he paws at the flesh on your sides and circles his hips into yours— letting his leaky tip bare down on your sweet spot and forcing the air out of your body. white hot pleasure flashes through your bloodstream, replacing any air of professionalism flooding through them. you can’t, you physically cannot hold back either of your orgasms— you can’t concentrate as your mind starts to fall away with the world and your gaze hones in on the way kirishima takes your fingers in his hot mouth so deep in an attempt to hush himself.

the coil in your tummy begins to unwind and the room swims once more. ‘ms.ln is everything okay over there— we need to progress with his meeting if we’re—‘ the annoying board member sounds underneath kirishima’s sloppy groans, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. your dirty, good boy.

“i’m going to need to take a rain—hah— a rain check on this meeting. you’ll hear from me when my interns and i are ready—“ you huff, cutting the staff off and quickly throwing the phone onto the hook, you’ll have keigo deal with the consequences later but for now you focus on kirishima who picks you up by the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock in frantic movements as he finally loses all connections to his control. “ohmygod—eiji baby, slow—fuck, down—“

he shakes his head, latching onto your collar bone as he revels in the way you leak down his shaft and drip between his balls, lewd squelching sounds fluttering through the air hot, sex scented air at full volume. “‘m sorry ma’am— i can’t… i’m really close, i really need’ta cum...please ma’am...mommy, i’ve been good—please let me cum...“ eijirou groans heartily, from deep in his chest as if he’s finally releasing what he’s been holding back— arms flexing and the sweat from his body slicking up your own.

limbs shaking you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your foreheads against one another, while you nod. he worked so hard to make you feel good, all day long to do the best job that he can— pressing small kisses to his lips encouragingly. “you can do it baby, one last thing for me— fill me up eiji, cum for me.” you whisper between bites and sucks on his lower lip, lined with a vibrant shade of red.

“cummin’, cummin’...miss yn, mommy—!” and then his hips come to a halt, his dick pulsing as waves of his cream line your insides with an opaque white, thick and seeping down your thighs. his fingers drop to your sensitive cunt, slipping quick circles over your swollen clit to bring you to your high. his cock never stops pumping in and out of you, pushing his seed further into your sex while you writhe and fall over the edge into your orgasm— gushing so hard you force him out of plugged and full hole.

losing his strength, kirishima collapses on top of you, pressing out both to the hard wood seat which you’re surprised  is still standing, his lips pressing fleeting kisses across your face and neck while you both come back down to earth.

and then he looks up at you with a weak smile, “did i do good?” he asks you lazily and almost sleepily— refusing to budge from laying atop you and almost crushing you with his weight.

pushing back his hair to soothe him. “always eiji, you’re not my favourite intern for nothing,” you coo at him, pulling him up to press your lips to him in a soft kiss.

“i sure hope you don’t have any other favourites, i want to be the only one who assists you like this,” kirishima says, remaining tangled with you for a moment more in your office, content with snuggling into your exposed and bruised side.

you share a sleepy giggle, intending to clean up later— eijirou completely forgetting about the lunch he’d promised the other interns after your meeting.

oh well, assisting you was a much better treat than spending time with any one else.

[chitsangenthusiast]

good afternoon i bring with me a (slightly rough) wip of zuko getting to see his daughter for the first time after she's born <3

(featuring some zuko teasing bc the gaang can't help it even at his daughter's birth, and sokka also getting to hold her!!)

—

She’s born in the middle of a scorching summer, under the gaze of a shining moon and on a bed covered in caribou-hare pelts.

Zuko knows when she’s arrived; he’s already crossed the length of the reception room by the time the clamor behind the separating screen abruptly cuts into a breathless silence, and his heart beats in expectation when Suki pokes her head out. She’s exhausted, she’s excited, and she’s dragging him in before he can even fathom any kind of thought.

He comes in just as the midwife finishes in clearing her nose and mouth, to reveal a tiny face and the full sound of his daughter’s fair wail.

Daughter.

Zuko stumbles.

A bubble of absolute glee spills from his mouth as he’s pushed into a chair next to the bed because, from here, he has an even better view. Poking out above her little arm is a head covered in a wet smattering of dark hair and already full eyebrows, with impossibly round cheeks showing off pouting lips and red gums while she cries. She���s loud, she’s announcing her presence, she’s so small.

Zuko chokes on an exhilarated gasp. That’s his daughter.

He reaches out, then falters. As he watches her settle into the soothing warmth of bare skin, all he wants is to fall forward to her, to tuck her into him and rest his hand on her small back to feel how she lifts the entirety of her body as he cries and breathesin her first moments. But he’s not sure who he can touch or even what he can touch on the bed, and he instead throws an absentmindedly desperate hand out to stop himself from grabbing at the furs as he works to remember how to properly take in air.

Someone grabs it—Sokka, he can tell by the calluses on his fingers—and directs it down. Instantly, instinctively, Zuko splays his fingers to cradle her head and strokes his thumb over his daughter’s ear.

His hand curls perfectly around her, and he chokes on another exhilarated sob.

“Katara—”

“She’s beautiful,” Katara immediately returns. Her eyes flit up to Zuko’s, just for a moment, before sliding back down to the baby resting on her stomach. She’s holding a tiny fist in her own hand, running tired fingers up and down a forearm, and she can’t look away either. She’s crying, Zuko realizes, tears just like his own, and she shakes out little relieved sniffles when he and Sokka quickly clasp her heaving shoulders. Katara’s head falls back to the pillows—from the exhaustion, from the relief of their touch, from those strong, healthy cries—and her hand joins Zuko’s on his daughter’s head as she lets out a breathless laugh. “Oh wow, she’s really perfect, Zuko.”

“Thank you,” he gasps out, and then no other words come. His face is a reservoir of open gratitude even when he can’t get anything else out, he knows Katara understands him when she lightly runs a thumb against his hand in response to his spasming grip on her shoulder.

Thank you.

Aang is let in shortly after, buzzing out of his body as he rushes to Katara’s side, with Azula jumping at the chance to barrel inside too. He’s been through this before with Bumi, but his hands still shake slightly as he cups her face and leans down to kiss her forehead with a long, deep inhale. Katara reaches out a free hand to hold onto him, and just smiles at the comfort of his happiness.

Her other hand is still in Zuko’s grasp. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to let go just yet, even after moving to the other side of the bed so that his good ear could better pick up her murmuring, or after her careful transfer of his daughter into his his bare arms, and now together they hold onto an exposed arm left out of the blanket.

Snatches of conversation happen around him, slight jostling occurs as everyone works on the after care, but Zuko is captivated only by the bundle in his arms. Their eyes are locked—she looks up at Zuko, and he stares right back. When Katara has to let go, he takes over to admire his daughter with his thumb, tracing it across her plump jawline, smoothing down the soft hair on her head and over her eyebrows.

Toward the end of the pregnancy, when Aang and Katara came to stay at the palace to prepare, Zuko used to sometimes stare at her. It was hard, trying to imagine what a child between them would look like, and a niggling thought that circled in the back of his mind—quietly, in a determined attempt to not let it fester too much—had him wishing, hoping that his daughter would have more of Katara in her than him. Beyond possibly gold-tinted eyes, what worth did his ancestry have to offer in the face of so much goodness from Katara’s?

(He got scolded for ruminating over this, then given an extremely long hug, and then scolded again for his incessant doting over a Katara who did not need to be doted over, much to Aang’s cackling amusement and Zuko’s embarrassed chagrin.)

But his daughter looks so much like him, and in such a breathtakingly sweet way that leaves him stunned. He can see the small flicks of her eyes moving as they roam over his face; they’re so light in color, tawny almost like how Azula’s were when she was born, and he wonders if they’ll be bright like his or darken into a strong amber like Uncle’s. She also has his nose, a wide little thing that he can’t help but bop a finger against, and her cheeks may be big but Zuko thinks she has his chin.

“It’s crazy how alert she already is,” Aang says, smiling as he peeks down at her across the bed. “I hope her cries get louder though, she needs those firebender lungs so she can shout like you can, Zuko.”

“Don’t do that to me,” Azula instantly scoffs, taking her place next to her brother, then smirks at his lukewarm glare. “I can only handle one loudmouth at a time, and Zuzu is plenty already.”

“Hey—”

Sokka snorts, and responds faster than Zuko can continue. “Well, when she’s right, she’s right.”

Suki overtakes their snickering with a bright burst of laughter, and his daughter’s head rolls toward the noise. “I thought blessings for babies by airbenders were supposed to be good-natured?”

“Oh, sure,” Aang laughs as he takes a cool cloth from her to wipe at Katara’s neck. “She will have a loving heart, an inquisitive mind, and a steadfast head on her shoulders that will push her through anything she sets herself to achieve. But I also hope she gets a set of good strong lungs, just so Zuko can see what we’ve put up with over the years.”

“Can you all be nice to me for five seconds,” Zuko grumps lightly. “I’m literally holding my child right now.”

“I think Aang’s gonna be right too,” Sokka happily jumps back in, dropping a heavy hand on Zuko’s shoulder as he leans over him to coo into her space. “She’s already got his frown.”

“Sokka!” Katara chides, but her laughter is still the loudest above everyone else’s at the falsely disgruntled scowl they receive—which is indeed replicated perfectly on that little face. “You know you can’t say things like that, or she’s going to end up looking like you!”

Sokka just chuckles, and the happy sound thrums through Zuko’s nerves. He’s pulled back already, giving him room to curl around his daughter like she’ll be able to protect him from the teasing—and Zuko forcibly swallows down the heavy desire to pull him back in.

“If that happens, it’ll only be because we look like, Katara.”

“Alright, move over punks!” Toph is as gleefully brash as ever when she steps into room with Lin on her hip and Iroh following close behind her, but Zuko can see the excitement lighting up her face as she beelines over. “Stop hogging the kid!”

Suki makes quick work to take Lin from her while Aang moves to pull Bumi from Iroh’s arms, and the four of them maneuver themselves onto the bed around Katara. She grouses lightly, but still looks incredibly contented to now have her son within arm’s reach. Iroh moves to take up residence on Zuko’s free side next to Sokka, and rests his hand on Zuko’s other shoulder.

“Oh, nephew,” he breathes out in deep admiration, and Zuko can feel his elation all the way down to his bones. “What a remarkable little beauty you have there.”

“Do you want to hold her?” he asks, after Iroh has showered Katara with a slew of his own sincere appreciation. Katara shies a little at the praise, but her smile remains firm even as her eyes droop slightly, and Zuko has a feeling Aang may soon kick them all out into another room to let her sleep.

Iroh’s steady joy though is infectious, and the room alights with an even more blanketing warmth from it. He reaches out eagerly to gingerly take her into his arms, and his eyes shine as he coos down at his granddaughter.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” Iroh hums, “There are great things in store for you here, just you wait and see.”

Azula gets to hold her next. Not for as long as their uncle, too nervous to hold something so tiny yet also noticeably too unwilling to give her up, and Zuko feels his eyes start to prick as sheer happiness crashes over him at the sight.

Sokka is the third one, composure fully cracked and delighted tears flowing as he wetly hiccups between stunned laughter.

“What an awesome little kid,” he says, his watery grin is as wide as his eyes. He then carefully cradles one of her hands into his palm, and welcomes her with a gentle handshake.

“Hello, Izumi,” he murmurs, and Zuko’s heart sings. “It’s so good to finally see you.”

Zuko doesn’t have anything to say in response, burstingly overwhelmed.

Instead, he quietly marvels at how well Izumi fits into his arms as he brushes a finger over one of her eyebrows. He glances up, to commit to memory the full picture of them together—their eyes catch, and his breath hitches at the deep adoration he spies in those blue eyes.

Sokka shakes himself a beat later, and looks back down at Izumi with a blazing grin.

“Man, you really do look just like your dad, don’t you, little princess?”

She does, but she undeniably has pieces of Katara in her too. Her complexion is slightly darker, and there’s already a slight wave to her hair that Zuko idly traces in amazement. He’s somewhat certain she has Katara’s lips too, and she hasn’t smiled yet but the thought that she could also end up with that same spirited smile makes his chest ache in private joy. It’s thrilling, the notion that even when his friend isn’t around, Zuko will still be able to see her signature grin light up the Fire Nation.

Zuko glances back up while Sokka continues to look down at his daughter.

He allows himself a moment to stare.

And carefully, very carefully, he thinks about how Katara and Sokka have the same smile.

[violetnotez]

Hi! I just had a smol idea for like an HC with our bois Todoroki and Bakugou. How do you think he’d react if his S/O finally used their quirk to their full ability, after being shy to use their quirk at all

Ack this is such an adorable idea anon, thank you for sending in the request!

Hc: Their S/O Uses Their Quirk To Their Full Ability

Pairings: Shoto x reader, Bakugo x reader

————————-

Shoto

◦Shoto was watching from the stands, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the railings

◦You were currently participating at the UA Festival, and had gone through the first 2 rounds and were now at the “Battles”

◦You were currently fighting a particularly strong 1-B student, and you weren’t doing so well

◦He could tell you were getting fatigued-your body was slouched and you were holding on to your right arm, a large bruise blossoming under your skin

◦Shoto leaned over the railings, wishing he could do something, anything, to help you

◦What was also bothering him was that you weren’t using your quirk to your full ability-he knew you were extremely powerful and could definitely beat your opponent, you were in Class 1-A after all

◦He has also seen your quirk first-hand: your quirk was called Light Burst, in which you could shoot light rays out of your hands

◦It was quite beautiful but also deadly, as the rays were extremely hot and could burn a person quite easily

◦But after you had accidentally burnt yourself and a classmate in middle school when you used your quirk, you were scared to use it at it’s full level

◦Shoto completely understood and assured you that it was alright to be apprehensive of your quirk, he had felt the same way about his quirk for a long time

◦ But right now he was conflicted-he knew you could beat this student if you just used your quirk to it’s full ability

◦He grimaced as you took another harsh blow, your body being propelled through the air and roughly hitting the dirt floor

◦The Class 1-B student strutted towards you, his hand out to deal the last blow that would push you against the line, ending the match

◦Shoto couldn’t sit and watch you fail when you could win and prove yourself to everyone- he gripped the edge of the railing, pushing his body as far as it could go

◦”Y/n!” He yelled out, his voice traveling throughout the stadium to you “Use your quirk-don’t be afraid!”

◦He saw your head shoot up to met his eyes, conflict set in your brows

◦You looked down at the ground, and for second he was terrified you were going to consider defeat

◦But to his relief, you shakingly stood up, gripping your bruised arm in a broken battle stance

◦”Heh, you seriously needed your boyfriend to get you back into the fight?” The student taunted, clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, “You’re weaker than I thought you were.”

◦Fury built up in Shoto after hearing that rude remark, but he then saw the confident smirk you were sporting

◦”Not weak,” you spoke back defiantly, “I Just needed a reminder.”

◦Your hands then began to sparkle with a blinding white light, your hair billowing around you from the sheer power building up in your palms

◦Everyone in the stadium was in complete shock-where did this power come from? You honestly did look weak at the beginning of the fight, as you only threw small little balls of light at your opponent, but now you were a force to be reckoned with

◦Your power continued to grow, propelling you off the ground until you were floating in midair

◦ your whole body was engulfed in a ball of white light, a shimmering gold layer hovering around you

◦Shoto stared in amazement, feeling pride swell in his chest-you looked absolutely beautiful with the light of your quirk encircling you, making you look like a powerful goddess as you rose above the ground

◦Before your opponent could even register what had just occurred, you aimed all your power at him, creating a giant blast that rushed the stadium with light

◦Everyone was deadly silent as the dust cleared as they held their breath, anticipating who had won

◦Your opponent was knocked a few feet past the line, his body unconscious

◦The whole stadium began to cheer loudly as you stood there, looking badly beaten up but victorious as you realized you had won

◦You looked over your shoulder, throwing Shoto a tired smile, your eyes full of gratitude

◦Shoto blushed, knowing he had a part in helping you realize your true potential, until he looked farther down your body and became beet red

◦”Her-her shirt!” Kamianri yelled, pointing down at the battle ring, “I think her quirk burnt it off!”

◦It was true-the power of your quirk had burnt your clothes to a crisp, leaving your breasts completely exposed

◦Shoto tried his best not to look-but God they looked so good in that black bra~

◦He was a blushing wreck until he heard Mineta make a lewd comment about you, in which he turned around and almost burnt him to a crisp

Bakugo

◦You two were caught in a corner, your backs against the wall as the villians closed in

◦Bakugo bared his teeth, flashing his sharp canines as he instantly tried to block your body with his

◦He knew you were completely capable of fighting, but you were not in the state to be battling right now

◦And hell, he wasn’t going to let anyone get to his girlfriend

◦These villains had bombarded you two as you were taking a walk throughout downtown at night

◦Bakugo was cursing himself for agreeing to do this with you-if you guys had just stayed at the dorms you two wouldn’t be in this position

◦”We just want the girl,” one of the villains commanded roughly, “give you to her-and we won’t hurt you.”

◦ Bakugo knew full well why these villains wanted you- your father was the leader of an underground Villain organization and had been searching for you ever since you had escaped the organization with your mother as a child

◦Bakugo knew how traumatized you were of your family’s history, and it was the main reason why you had decided to be a hero-to undo all the evil your father had inflicted on the world

◦These villians were fucking insane if they thought he was just going to step aside and hand you over

◦ “Like hell Im giving her to you,” Bakugo snapped back, “piss off!”

◦”Fine then-,” the villain replied coldly, motioning quickly to Bakugo’s body as he blocked you from view, “Get him.”

◦The goons swiftly grabbed Bakugo’s body, profanities spilling out of his voice as he fought wildly against their hold

◦”Get the hell off me-“ he screamed, until one of the villains landed a blow to his stomach to silence his screeches, the air escaping his lungs in a painful gasp

◦”Bakugo!” you screamed, tears pricking your eyes. He was trying to protect you, and here you were, watching him get hurt over you-guilt flooded your body looking at Bakugo try to recover from the pain

◦”Let him go-please!” You cried out, running to Bakugo’s side

◦Your Hands went out to reach him, but another goon gripped his arm around your waist, swinging you violently into a tight grasp

◦You tried to wiggle out, but it was no use-you were caught like a prey, and wouldn’t be escaping

◦Your lungs felt restricted, your body flooding with panic- “Let me go! Let me go! Let-me-GO!” You kept repeating, fear flooding you as the villians began to walk you away from Bakugo, your hand reaching out to him in desperation

◦Bakugo continued to struggle against their hold, hating how weak he felt-he couldn’t even use his quirk, as the villians seemed to already know about his power and had made sure he was unable of using it

◦”Fucking-shit-y/n! You need to use your quirk-NOW!” He screamed out, his vermillion eyes bright as he made eye contact with you

◦You gulped-he knew how apprehensive you were to use your quirk. It was hard for you to control, but still extremely powerful -It was named “Bone Arrows,” which meant you could shoot out bone shards from your body

◦He knew you were terrified to use it, since it was mainly your father’s quirk, but if you two wanted to escape, you needed to use it-now

◦”USE YOUR DAMN QUIRK Y/N-WE WILL BE FINE, JUST USE-“ He yelled out until another painful blow was sent to his stomach

◦”Katsuki!” You screeched out his name, fear filling your stomach as you activated your quirk-you didn’t want to, but you would do anything to make sure he didn’t get hurt for you any longer

◦Stick-like fragments of bone shards shot out of your body in every direction as a scream escaped your chest, the goons of your father falling to the ground in pain

◦BAkugo stared in shock-in under a few seconds you had taken down over 5 full grown men with one move

◦You began to breathe heavily, your body taking a huge physical toll from the emotional and physical strain

◦Bakugo ran towards you, hugging you close to him as you fell to the ground from exhaustion

◦”Shit y/n-“ he grunted out, his hands shaking, “you okay? You hurt? God-fuck-we need to get you somewhere safe-“

◦You sat trembling in his arms, grasping onto him with all your might

◦“I’m sorry, ‘Suki, I’m sorry you got hurt-“

◦”Don't say that shit,” he quickly interrupted you, “you-you saved me. You’re powerful as hell-don’t forget it.”

————————

I don’t like Bakugo’s HC but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! ❤️

[shoutogepi]

As Long as You’re Safe

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 2.1k smol boi (blurb!)

[ ☁︎, ☀︎ ]  

themes : Soooo not really sure what to call this?? Kinda angst?? But super fluff ending :3

blurb : They are fighting a villain who has the ability to see into their opponent’s memories, and also convey scenarios and images into their opponent’s mind, making them feel like real life. The villain accesses their memories of you, and realizes that that is a very weak spot.

author’s note : idk i felt like I needed a fluff sponge to clean up that nasty first post haha so heres my best janitorial work!

    ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he air whipped past Bakugou’s face, eyes turning into venomous slits as he finally was able to see the villain he had been called in to handle. He had been on patrol on the other side of the area, but when his sidekick didn’t respond to his messages, a gut feeling had urged him to come as backup. The agency had called when he was already halfway there, confirming his suspicion.

This was the guy? Tch. Bakugou snarled at the thought of this wimp being able to beat, well, anyone. The guy was slender and looked like he had almost no muscle or body fat. But he had to have a good quirk if he had taken out a handful of people already, so Bakugou regarded him with careful contempt. The explosions in his palms stopped as he fell from the third story of the building he’d been perched on, hurtling toward the ground.

“Hey asshole,” Bakugou yelled as his boots touched the pavement of the sidewalk. He stretched his palms in a wicked manner, cracking his neck in a swift motion.

The villain turned, a look of disgruntled annoyance simmering to the surface of his face. A malicious smile overtook his thin lips, and a glint in his eye made Bakugou growl. The man faced him directly now, and the terrified pedestrian he had been toying with sobbed as they ran towards the safety of the crowd gathering a respectable distance away. Bakugou grimaced as he noticed the limp body of his sidekick, sat up against one of the storefront’s flower barrels with closed eyes and a pained expression. From just a glance, he could tell they were alive… but they probably didn’t feel too great.

“Ground Zero,” the spindly man smiled, but to Bakugou it looked more like he was baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “How nice of you to grace me with your presence! I didn’t know little old me could pull in a top hero.”

Bakugou barked a short laugh. “You only got me ‘cause of sheer luck, dumbass. I have no clue who you think you are, but you’re about to be very well acquainted,” he paused, rolling his right wrist for dramatic effect,” with my fists.” 

He expected a range of reactions from the villain. He had been doing this pro-hero gig for awhile now, so he’d learned the ropes-- and this guy didn’t seem like the type to have an ass-whooping quirk, so he could most likely afford to physically attack.

“Now that is an interesting game plan, Bakugou,” the villain stated, voice dripping with rancor. His words shocked Bakugou for a moment, and just as a thought formed in his mind, the slender man vocalized it. “Oh shit, this fucker can read me like a book,” the man paused, an amused smile on his face,” wow, you have quite a way with words.”

“Tch. I don’t care if you’re in my head asswipe, ‘cause your skull is about to be crushed into the ground,” Bakugou replied, foot planting behind himself and getting ready to pounce.

“Hmm, are you sure? Will you treat me roughly?” the man continues seamlessly, making Bakugou’s eyes widen in confusion. Treat him rough? Who the hell does this guy think he is? Was he hitting on him? The villain’s smile only broadened, the sneer on his mouth flushing Bakugou’s stomach with dread. “At least, as rough as your girlfriend likes it?”

Bakugou’s mouth dried at his words, body stuttering as he processed the them. Why the fuck was this freak talking about Y/N?

“Y/N, yes-- what an extravagant creature. I wouldn’t have pegged her as someone who likes to be choked. Are you sure you can handle fighting me? It seems like you had an exhausting night, and rest is important for the body.”

Bakugou’s breath is stolen out of his lungs, his wide eyes turning into furious crescents at the villain’s words. That was private! The villain’s words automatically triggered his memory, even if he was trying his best to push the image away. You, underneath him last night, shaking and whimpering and making that irresistible expression as he fucked you raw. A light blush bloomed on his cheeks at the recollection, but he shoved it away as fast as he could. His eyes met the villain’s again, but this time, the shadowy figure’s features had morphed into a terrifying grin, eyes bulging out of his skull with disgusting delight.

“Oh, thank you so much for sharing that with me. Maybe I’ll try out choking her myself!” he laughed, voice oozing with excitement as he wrung his hands together.

Bakugou snapped out of his surprised state, shaking his head and clenching his eyes shut. He just had to wreck his loser and then he could go home to you.

Nothing could prepare him for what happened next. He looked back up at the villain, and his stomach plummeted fifty meters into the concrete below him as he registered the horrific scene.

The villain was standing in the exact same spot, but he had his arms wrapped around your throat. You were trapped in his hold, big desperate eyes full of tears that slid down your cheeks and fingers clawing futilely at his hold. You were wearing that maroon lingerie from last anniversary that drove Bakugou wild, your hair clinging to your wet chin as you sobbed. The noise was enough to make Bakugou’s knees shake, his heart felt like it had leapt into his throat.

“S-Suki,” you whimpered, slicing his heart into two.

Bakugou’s lips trembled at your cry, his hands clenching into fists at his side. His voice was much softer now, and he was surprised to find it didn’t break,” Let her go.” His feet planted square, he stared down the villain with a burning determination, steam practically pouring out of his nostrils.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” the man chided, one hand leaving your delicate throat and sliding down your chest. Bakugou’s fingernails broke into the flesh of his palms as the villain’s hand ran over your breast, lingering there as he gauged Bakugou’s reaction. The choked sob that came from you made Bakugou see red.

Bakugou stepped forward but immediately regretted it as the villain’s hand on your throat turned white. He watched in horror as you sputtered, face turning pink at the exertion of wriggling in his hold, grasping at his hand to no avail. “Stop! Please!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in front of him and taking a step back.

“Ground Zero!” Bakugou’s eyes hesitantly left your figure for a moment, trying to find the source of the shout. It sounded like someone was calling him, but from somewhere far away… or like he was underwater. He looked around, realizing the crowd of onlookers had vanished, and the unconscious body of his sidekick was gone as well. Actually, you three were the only people on the busy Japan street.

Just like that, the gears click into place. Looking back at the villain, his rage bubbling inside, he snarled and pushed his body off the pavement, explosions dancing on his palms to seal the gap swiftly.

The villain looked irritated at being found out, but that didn’t stop him from snapping your neck. Bakugou tried not to look at you, but the thought that you had been real just a moment ago made his chest tight as your gaze glazed over and your body slumped to the ground. He screamed as he drew back his fist, concentrating his power on his hand just as it connected with the spindly man’s jaw. His head flew backwards, a sick crack sounding as his body was flung into the air behind him.

Bakugou landed on his feet, and braced himself for a second as he closed his eyes. Not real, not real, she is not real. Opening his eyes, he looked at the spot your crumpled body should have been, only to find that it was empty. He breathed out a sigh of relief, attention sliding back to the unconscious villain in the middle of the road. He ignored the cheers erupting from the crowd behind him, feet moving on their own accord toward the villain’s figure to finish the job.

It was hell waiting to get back to you. Bakugou had to wait for the police to show up and take the loser off his hands, then he had to pretend he was fine and sign a thousand autographs, and then to top it all off, he had to take his damn sidekick back to the agency across town. The suspense was killing him. Even if he knew that it was stupid… a small, okay-- maybe large-- part of him needed you in his arms, and to know you were truly alright.

After he was done with the agency, he nearly ran all the way home. Using his quirk to shoot himself through the starry cityscape, the wind rushing through his hair, his chest still felt just as tight as it did earlier. It seemed like an eternity had passed as he finally planted his feet on the sidewalk, hand grabbing the main entrance door and nearly ripping it off its hinges. The security guard barely had time to recognize him and buzz him in, and he sure as hell didn’t bother with a “good evening”. He beelined past the elevator, instead opting to dart into the stairwell and propel himself up to the sixteenth floor with his quirk.

His legs couldn’t carry him fast enough, and he dashed through the hallway with urgency. His eyes finally landing on the door, he prayed it was unlocked because he really did not want to blast through the lock but damn it, he might just have to. He nearly cried as he jiggled the door handle, confirming his fear. His palm on the metal handle, he closed his eyes and wondered if you would kill him for blasting through another locksmith’s fine work.

But then the handle turned ninety degrees, and the door cracked open to reveal your bare face, hair looking frazzled as you blinked at him.

“Suki!” your plump lips split into a joyous grin and Bakugou’s soul almost left his body in sheer relief. You pulled him into the apartment, shutting the door behind him and wrapping your soft arms around his torso. “I was so worried about you! I saw the end of your fight on the news, are you okay?”

Bakugou couldn’t say any words, his throat felt thick and his eyes stung as he crushed you into his chest. His head hanging down to sniff your precious head, his lungs rattled as he tried not to burst into tears. You fit so perfectly in his arms, he couldn’t help but thank the universe that you’re safe, and you’re here, holding onto him tightly as he barely kept it together.

You frowned at his silence, but you decided to comfort him anyway because he seemed like he really needed it. Your fingers brushed along his spine as he clutched onto you, gathering his emotions. You weren’t used to seeing him so choked up, but you knew there must be some reason as to why he’s so silent. “It’s okay, baby,” you whispered, making a small sigh fall from his lips.

He finally looked you in the eye, and your stomach fluttered with butterflies at his expression. “I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled, warm hands taking your face and pressing your lips to his. You hummed happily against his mouth, hands lacing behind his neck in compliance. He pulled away, one last shred of doubt left to address. “Are you okay?” he inquired quietly, almost bashfully. His gaze was directed to the collar of your shit that his thumb was playing with, and you took his jaw in your hands to make him look at you.

His scarlet eyes looked so concerned and scared, your heart ached for him. “Of course I’m okay Katsuki,” you answered, looking at him deeply,” I have you to protect me!” A small smile adorned your lips as your nails scratch gently at his scalp. “Are you okay, my love?”

One corner of his mouth quirked up adorably as he tried to put on his brave face for you. “I’m okay,” he whispered, eyes closing as his lips touched your forehead gently,” as long as you’re safe.”

    ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

masterlist (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ 

please stop by and say hi!! i’d love any feedback <3 thanks for reading!!

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫����𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC X

Parts 1-9 linked in bio

Not entirely canon compliant but elements of canon - FWB.

Song: Electric Love - BØRNS

Rating: M, implied sex, sexual language, swearing

Word Count: 3677

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Ten: New Year, Same Situation

It turned out, in a blessing to Suki’s guilt, that Bryce had picked up extra shifts on Christmas. He didn’t seem fussed about it, so she guessed he just wasn’t the Christmas type. She’d caved and texted him back asking about his plans, and he’d told her. Apparently it brought a lot of the patients joy to have ‘such an incredibly handsome surgeon helping out’ (his words). There was still that regret that she hadn’t offered, though. And also a small part of her that just wishes he’d been there for the sake of being there.

She couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Every aspect was jumbling about in her brain like the numbers in a lottery machine. The way he’d held her in all her layers against his bare skin, the steady, savouring movements of their lips against one another. The familiar yet brand new sensation, each nerve wired with the electricity spreading between them. It was intense. She was waiting for her number to be called to find out if she’d won: but what was the prize? Bryce..? She already knew him. But… more kisses? Honestly, thinking about it was giving her a headache.

The look on Bryce’s face. Narcotised, dumbfounded. She couldn’t stop seeing that face in her head, and every time she did her heart stopped and she wanted to kiss him like that again just to see it.

She wondered if Bryce had felt the same way about it, or if it had been only her. Because yeah, it had been a good kiss, he’d said as such afterwards. But had it been as earth-shattering for him as it had been for her? Had he felt that nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach and the ringing in his ears and the thrum of his heart? Was he thinking fuck the whole time? Or unable to think of anything beside her lips?

And it felt like now there was something pulling them together, she wanted him there any time she had a bad day to cradle her in his big arms and reassure her, she wanted him there to kiss her until she could barely speak or do anything else.

On Boxing Day, Elijah and Suki were serving themselves leftovers while Jackie sat on the sofa groaning through her fifth mimosa. Suki was wearing Bryce’s reindeer hoodie, because her own Christmas jumpers were ugly and tasteless, she told herself. Of course, no one else knew it was Bryce’s. Unless they knew his scent as well as she did. Suki didn’t even realise she was smiling until Elijah spoke.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Elijah smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh- I mean, nothing. You just seem less stressed.”

Suki squinted her eyes. That wasn’t it. “Spill.”

“God, fine. I’m terrible at keeping things. Back in September, that night we watched movies? I talked to Bryce earlier that day and he told me to keep an eye on you, that you might’ve been needing a little extra love.”

So that was why Elijah was being like that. Bless him.

“That little-“

“He didn’t want you to think he was being weird and overbearing! That’s why he asked me. He barely knew us back then.”

Well, not exactly true. By that point we’d kissed in a supply closet.

“Did he say anything else?” Suki asked, suddenly worried about Bryce sharing their little secret. Then again, it had been months, and Elijah was terrible at keeping things. He wouldn’t have been able to go so long unnoticed. Suki had noticed his concerned looks at her, she just hadn’t known the meaning behind them.

“Um. No? I don’t remember.”

Well, it couldn’t have been that Bryce had told him, then.

“Okay.”

“But he was right. I don’t know how he noticed, but you were a little off for a time.” Elijah placed down the clippers he’d been using to serve himself some roast potatoes.

I mean, he noticed because he found me crying in the supply closet but we’ll leave that bit out.

“Yeah. Being a doctor is hard.”

“You got that right.”

—-

When New Year rolled around, all the roommates had returned to the apartment and were discussing their NYE plans.

“I don’t want to throw another party. Not after the last one.”

“It was fine! Farley didn’t even find out.”

“It got out of hand and it was stressful, can’t someone else throw a party?”

“Or we could go to Donahue’s…” Jackie suggested.

“No,” the others chorused.

“Fine, fine.”

“Donahue‘s is great but I’m not ringing in the new year there.”

“We spent Halloween there.”

“That’s different.”

“Is anyone working?”

Suki’s head was starting to hurt from the questions and overlap of voices. She wasn’t even fussed about having a big New Year celebration, she just wanted to be with her friends.

“Let’s just spend the new year by ourselves,” Suki breathed out after a while.

Jackie shrugged, seeming okay with the idea.

“But… what about our other friends?” Asked Elijah.

“Like who?” Said Aurora, “we don’t have other friends.”

“Not true! There’s that sweet paramedic Rafael who talks to me when he’s bringing patients in,”

“Sienna I don’t think that’s-”

“And I made friends with one of my patients, she’s called Kyra.” Elijah added.

“Have you all forgotten about Bryce? He’s annoying as fuck but he’s technically part of the group.”

“Gia from across the hall! She’s so lovely.”

“Gia has a kid, she won’t come.”

“What about that Landry kid who came to Donahue’s with us?”

“No. No.” Jackie made a gagging motion.

“It’s sounding like you guys want a party. Does anyone actually want a party?” Aurora asked.

The rest of them groaned uneasily. No one wanted a party.

“Fine, how about everyone has a plus one. Sienna, that way you can invite Rafael, Elijah can invite Kyra, Jackie can invite Bryce...” Aurora said calmly.

“Ew,” Jackie retorted.

“I kind of wanted to invite Danny…” Sienna trailed off.

“He can be my plus one,” Aurora offered.

“I’m not having Bryce as my plus one,” Jackie made a face of disgust.

“It’s not like having a plus one means anything. They’re not going to be handcuffed to you or something weird,” Aurora said.

“I don’t care. Suki can have him.”

“Why me?” She realised the rush and speed of her reply may have not been the most natural thing.

“Did you have any other options?”

“…no.”

“Sorted. I’ll invite that nice girl from down the hall as my plus one.”

“Huh?”

“Phoebe. The one you have a crush on,” Jackie directed her gaze to Elijah.

“…what??” Elijah looked completely taken aback. His mouth was agape and his eyes were wide.

So the group got to refining their plans, including the type of alcohol they’d buy, any decorations, timings, entertainment.

—-

For the first time, Suki was nervous about texting Bryce. After their kiss, she didn’t want to make things weird. Plus, he’d never replied to her when she’d asked him about New Years the week before.

Santa Fe: you free on ny?

Scalpel Jockey: depends why you’re asking

Santa Fe: we’re doing some kind of gathering at the apartment

Santa Fe: the others wanted you here

Scalpel Jockey: the others but not you? ouch

Santa Fe: 🙄you know what I meant

Santa Fe: are you free or not?

Scalpel Jockey: sure i’ll be there

—-

Everyone worked most of the time in the couple of days leading up to their get-together, so anything that was done in preparation was done in short bursts. On the 30th, Bryce texted again.

Scalpel Jockey: what’s this about handcuffs?😏

Santa Fe: what???

Scalpel Jockey: jackie said something about handcuffs and i for one am not complaining

Scalpel Jockey: i bumped into her at the hospital earlier and she was complaining to me about myself

Huh, must’ve been what Aurora had said about the plus ones not meaning anything. Of course his ears only perked up when it could be interpreted as kinky.

Santa Fe: there’s no handcuffs

Scalpel Jockey: after that christmas lingerie? colour me doubtful

Santa Fe: correction, *there’s no handcuffs for you at a new years celebration while everyone else is around

Scalpel Jockey: i’ll take it😏

—-

Then in no time it was 6:00pm on the 31st and everyone was getting ready for the others to turn up.

Suki was wearing a sparkly black jumpsuit with sheer sleeves and gold eyeshadow on her eyes. It felt the right palette for the occasion. The others were also dressed to the nines and they laughed and hung out until the first guest arrived.

Suki began to get nervous waiting for Bryce to arrive. God, what’s going on here? I thought we were over this?

Each new arrival sent a jolt through Suki’s stomach and she held her breath for a moment. And then there was a mix of relief and disappointment each time it wasn’t him.

When he finally swaggered through the door holding two bottles of red wine, cheering with his usual cockiness, she hung back while the others greeted him. He was dressed up, and lord did he look good.

Blue slacks, blue jacket, floral light blue shirt. Right down to the shiny black shoes. Suddenly Suki couldn’t stop looking at how those clothes fit him, suited him so well. Shit. And then how they would look on her bedroom floor.

“Suki,” he finally breathed out his greeting after saying hello to everyone else.

“Hi,” she gave him a nod and a smile which came out higher pitched than she’d intended and already knew her face was heating up.

Calm. The. Fuck. Down. It was just a kiss. We do it all the time.

Bryce moved closer as though about to say something else, when Jackie slapped a hand on his back and led him to the kitchen.

“We need to get that wine in a glass…”

The new year squad drank and discussed for a while before eventually Sienna started off the games for the evening.

“We’re going to play charades!” Sienna enthused.

“I call dibs on Suki,” Bryce said almost immediately.

“You don’t even know if I’m any good.”

“Oh, I know you’re good,” he winked. She rolled her eyes playfully, and the rest of the group paired up: Elijah and Phoebe, Sienna and Danny, Jackie and Raf, Aurora and Kyra.

Bryce and Suki got off to a Rocky start. The card she picked was an obscure one. She was standing, moving a fist in circles beside her mouth.

“Uhhh washing your face? Applying mascara? Smelling flowers? …whiskers? I- um, churning… butter? Conducting! No? Um…”

Suki was violently shaking her head at each ridiculous guess. She scowled and controlled her hand a little, opening her mouth like a fish.

“Oh! Eating!”

She nodded and grinned, waiting for him to get the rest.

“Oatmeal? Cereal? Ice cream? Oh! SOUP!?”

“Yes!” She jumped up finally and the two high-fived.

Elijah and Phoebe were surprisingly good, Sienna and Danny pretty terrible because they couldn’t stop laughing, and both Team Aurora and Team Jackie’s competitive sides were coming out. Most of the charades were funny, but Kyra’s were hilarious.

After a few rounds everyone was cutting it close aside from Sienna and Danny. It was Bryce’s turn.

He was mimicking riding a bike, which was hilarious. He had one foot to the ground and was circling the other one while he held his hands out in front of him. What a dork. But Suki guessed it quickly enough, pulling them ahead in points.

They reached the bottom of the pile of cards, Bryce and Suki winning by one point.

“We make quite the pair, don’t we Sukes?” He grinned, nudging her with his shoulder.

“I- are you-“

“You think I didn’t notice that little nickname you gave me? You can’t hog all the fun.”

Ah. So he hadn’t missed it then.

—-

As the night continued on they played a few board games (Monopoly, Scrabble), before an interesting game of Twister.

Suki somehow ended up in an odd human pretzel with Rafael, Sienna, and not at all to her surprise, Bryce. The universe had an agenda, alright.

“No don’t put your hand on that one I’ll fall over!” Sienna shouted at Raf. But it was too late and they fell into a big pile in the middle of the sheet. Somehow Jackie remained composed to the side of them.

“I won!”

“Can you help?” Struggled Suki, who was stuck at the bottom of the pile. The other half of the group worked to help each person off the pile. Bryce was winking down at her, their faces close and his body fitting into every part of hers. For fucks sake. She was trying super hard not to think about kissing the shit out of those lips right now.

To her relief, but also disappointment - which seemed to be much of a theme that night - Phoebe and Danny helped to pull Bryce up and she was left freed.

And then Kyra insisted on a game of Truth or Dare.

“Aren’t we a bit old for that?” Aurora asked.

“You’re never told old for fun!” Kyra replied, “I want to get to know you guys better.”

Phoebe had to kiss the person she fancied the most, which brought on many cheers and whoops when it turned out to be Elijah (definitely a leading question on Kyra’s part). The two couldn’t stop smiling at each other after that. Elijah told everyone about his biggest fantasy, Aurora showed off her hidden talent (burping the ABC’s), Danny read out his most recent text (an ‘I love you’ to his dad), Sienna was dared to take a mystery shot of Jackie’s creation – which looked like included pickle juice and Tabasco sauce. Rafael talked about his worst date, and Kyra had to give the person to her right a foot massage – which was Jackie. She didn’t seem to mind much.

Bryce picked dare, of course.

“I dare you to give everyone in the circle a lap dance!” Rafael said.

“You just want one, don’t you?” Bryce winked to the other man, who laughed and shrugged. Jackie looked horrified at the idea, and Elijah started to play Pony – Ginuwine through the speakers. So Bryce got about moving to the music like he was in Magic Mike. Slowly, each item of clothing was lost. Until he was left in only his boxers. Incredibly cringey, but also… pretty hot. He went around the circle, giving each person their own little performance. Danny pretended to fling dollar bills at him. Jackie made a lot of gagging noises and screeches.

When he at last got to Suki, she was nervous. He gave her that look she could read right through, and began to grind his ass just above her lap. When he turned to face her and began to wind his body above her, she knew she was visibly flustered. And so did he. Not to mention, he knew what she liked.

He grabbed her chin and brought it towards his sensually as he mockingly sang along with the song. This was such a game for him, and she was an unwitting pawn.

“You’re… not supposed to touch me,” she tried to laugh it out, but it was awkward and meek. He removed his hand with a flourish and an insolent shoulder shrug.

She was so alarmed, but eventually began to screech laughter. By that point everyone was in fits. It was almost impossible to take a lap dance seriously, and definitely impossible to take a lap dance from Bryce seriously.

“Okay, I think that concludes that,” Raf laughed. Bryce shot Suki a signature wink before pushing himself up to standing. He finished off his dance with a rather impressive body roll-into-worm movement. He then began to re-clothe himself.

After cooling down a bit, Suki chose truth, always the safer option. Or so she thought.

“Ok then. When did you last get laid?” Phoebe asked. Jump right to it, why don’t you?

Easy to lie, of course. But her expression and squirming was a dead giveaway that she was nervous to answer the question. And Suki was a terrible liar.

“The day before Christmas Eve,” she choked out, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Bryce because she could already tell the expression he had at that moment. Smug. Smug as shit. There’s no way he’s not thinking about the Christmas themed lingerie if nothing else.

“What? Who?” Jackie asked, not sly about the way her eyes fell on Suki’s neck again.

“Random tinder guy. It was nothing.”

From the corner of her eye Suki thought she could see Bryce’s face crinkle momentarily, but he was normal when she fully looked at him.

They played a couple more rounds, Suki was sure to pick dare that time (try to lick your elbow, thanks Sienna).

When the group took a little break Suki escaped and grabbed some more drinks from her bedroom, only to go to return and find Bryce leaning on her doorway. Draped on the frame like the prettiest chandelier in the vintage furniture store. Because vintage had character, beauty, stories, secrets. Looking ever so casual in his shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and slacks. His jacket was long discarded. Okay, this is the first time we’ll really have spoken since the kiss.

“Hey,” he said, as though they hadn’t spoken before that evening. Which, she supposed, they hadn’t. Not as ‘Bryce and Suki’.

Was he thinking about that kiss too? Was he consumed by the desire to rush over and kiss her slowly, every moment as much bliss as it was torture as though the moment were crafted as deliberately Dionysian? Hard to tell.

“Hey, what are you doing?” She was holding two bottles of sparkling wine in each hand, ready to have taken them out to the others. Unfortunately that meant she couldn’t expel nervous energy through drumming her fingers on her thighs.

“Just checking up on you. Making sure you’re not causing any trouble.”

“Riiiight.”

“Um,” he was flustered, something Suki never believed she would see in a million years. He scratched at the back of his head. “So tonight… after… are we- am I staying?”

“Ah, I see. This is a preemptive booty call.”

“No, well- I-“

Suki laughed, it was so odd to see him like this. Also odd that his first reaction to ‘is this a booty call’ was ‘no’?? What the hell has him so creepily bashful?

“Of course you can stay if you want. You don’t even have to leave early I’ll just throw you out on the couch and blame it on the alcohol.” As soon as the words left her mouth Suki regretted them. She’d pretty explicitly just invited him to stay the night. Like, the actual night. Rule number fucking two Suki. No. Staying. The. Night.

Not a matter of convenience, not a courtesy as thanks, just… because.

That mischievous part of her didn’t want to correct herself, or make it clear that he couldn’t stay. She wanted him to want to stay.

Fuck.

But she couldn’t listen to that little voice. She couldn’t. She knew she’d only screw herself over.

“You know what I mean, right? Like, after sex I’ll send you to the sofa…”

“Yeah. Sweet. Cool. Nice.”

Oh my god. What is going on? Why is he acting so weird? Is it the alcohol?

Suki was feeling clammy and stressed and she knew she had to change the subject.

“So, why didn’t you tell me the other day what your New Years plans were?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I came to yours…” now it was Suki’s turn to feel flustered, kiss brain alert kiss brain alert “I asked you about New Years and you ignored it.”

“Oh? I don’t know. I can’t remember,” he grinned and normal Bryce was back. “Come on, pass me a bottle and let’s get this night cracking on.”

And so they did, more laughing and dancing and games and talking. At one point, Bryce was dancing in a mockingly seductive way with Phoebe and Elijah, prompting Sienna to sidle up to Suki.

“So that lap dance Bryce did… did you notice he spent waaay longer on you than anyone else?”

“I think he just knew I’m easily embarrassed. It’s difficult to hide.”

“I don’t know Suki, I think he might fancy you,” she whispered, excitement and scandal in her voice and on her face.

How do I tell Sienna it’s just because we’re sleeping together without telling Sienna we’re sleeping together?

“Incredibly doubtful. He just wanted a rise out of me.”

When it reached around 11:45pm, the group lounged around on the couches to watch the ball drop in New York on the TV.

The obvious couples of the evening – Sienna and Danny; Elijah and Phoebe – were antsy and sat beside each other, waiting for their midnight kiss.

“I’m going to kiss each and every one of you,” Kyra grinned.

And Suki was in an awkward positing sat beside Bryce and wondering if she should kiss into the new year with him. It was only tradition, right? But felt important information to know.

Which she absolutely didn’t know.

But they couldn’t, they were surrounded by people.

As the countdown began, Suki’s tension rose. He wouldn’t kiss her, would he? Not here, not now.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Everyone shouted at once when the clock hit zero and the ball dropped in Times Square. Bryce reached over to give Suki’s hand a quick squeeze, but no kiss.

Instead, Kyra gave Suki a prolonged ‘mwah!’, and she had to sit watching Danny and Sienna, and Elijah and Phoebe getting into it. At least everyone else was single. The singles all stood to hug each other, a few kisses too, celebrating a whole new calendar year.

Suki bitterly wished that Bryce had kissed her. And she was mentally kicking herself for it. But, when he embraced her he whispered:

“We’ll ring the new year in properly later.”

[bnhaclaimedmysoul]

how would bakugou katsuki be as a dad?

character: bakugou katsuki

genre: fluff

note: @akadeko requested gremlin boi with a son, so here we are!

-this gremlin would be one of the most excited for the entire journey of raising a child

-when you reveal that you’re pregnant to him

-he’s just speechless

-like words wouldn’t budge out of his mouth no matter how much he tried

-you’d have to snap him out his thoughts by poking his cheek incessantly

-but the moment he finally realized the situation and the fact that you’re going to be having a child with him settled in

-expect a rare emotional moment since the both of you would be trying for so long

-he’ll just pull you into a hug, with no words said and will just proceed to hold you within his arms

-And when you reciprocate the hugs and start to run your hand across his back

- he’ll unexpectedly lift you up in the air and twirl you around

-the sheer happiness couldn’t be removed from his face

-its crazy

-And after a whole day of just smiling and relishing in the happiness that it’s finally happening

-he’ll flop on the bed and will beckon you to come closer to him

-and when you do, he’ll pull you into his embrace and will ask you to put your head on his chest

-and when you were starting ti fall asleep listening to the comforting sound of his pacifying heartbeat

-he’ll run his fingers through the locks of your hair

-And in the softest whisper possible, he’ll ask you whether you want to tell his parents

-And when you agree that the both of you can drop by their house tomorrow for the big reveal

-when the both of you were deciding who was drive to his parents’ house

-an argument erupted

-“ YOU HAVE OUR CHILD INSIDE YOU WHAT FI YOU GET INTO A ROAD ACCIDENT?”

“KATSUKI I’M JUST PREGNANT, I’M NOT GONNA DIE”

-“IT’S MY JOB TO KEEP YOU SAFE SO SHUT THE F UP AND JUST SETTLE DOWN. AND DON’T FORGET TO WEAR THE SEATBELT ”

-And when the both of you just unexpectedly show up

-masaru is just confused as hecc

-mitsuki will pop her head out of the kitchen and her eyes will literally lighten up when she sees you

-she’ll pull you into a tight hug and squeeze the living life out of you

-and when she invites you to the living hall and asks you to take a seat

-you can see tiny sparks flying off katsuki’s hands

-he was sweating so much from nervousness that he was about to lose control of his quirk

-“YOU OLD HAG HOW LONG ARE YOU GONNA TAKE TO COME AND HAVE A CHAT?”

-“KATSUKI CONTROL YOUR DIRTY MOUTH, YOU WERE RAISED IN THIS HOUSE”

-and when you place you palm of his hand, as an attempt to calm him down

-he’d be relaxed within a fraction of a second

-and even before mitsuki could take a seat the gremlin boi blurts it out

-“we’re having a child”

-cue a mitsuki who looks like her brain cells were fried to a crisp

-and in the softest voice possible she asks “what do you mean?”

-masaru is just confused about why was mitsuki’s tone so solemn like

-“I mean it, she’s pregnant and you’re gonna be grandparents”

-and after the big revelation, it’s just a series of laughter form uncontrollable euphoria

-it’s a rare soft moment in the bakugou household

-she practically scares katsuki to life while talking about when she was pregnant with him and aks him to take care of you

-“tch isn’t it obvious that I’ll protect her and our baby with my life?”

-and when that statement comes out of his mouth

-you and his parents are just emotionally overwhelmed as masaru ruffles his hair and mistuki hold your palm in hers and asks you to stay strong for him

-after an emotional day that his parent’s house, bakugou katsuki will always be on his toes

-All. The. Fricking. Time.

-if he hears one groan from, get ready to be bombarded by a million questions and then a long massage after that

-he wouldn’t spare any chance of alleviating your pains

-and when the time finally comes, he’s more excited than his entire family

-he’ll be the one carrying all the necessities and the bag for you and will be eagerly anticipating the delivery

-but the moment his son was in his arms all that buzzing sensation through his veins turns into relief

-a relief that their son is finally here

-the first few weeks are just full of silence, just the sounds of your son randomly crying due to soiled diapers or hunger

-but the moment the cries leave his son’s mouth

-he’s there standing right next to his crib

-with his heart pounding in his chest, wondering what discomfort your child might  be going through

-loves babysitting

-“suki I can do this”

-“Honey I WILL DO THIS FOR YOU”

-literally forces you out of the house so that he can spend quality time with his son

-often times, it ends up with the father soothingly rubbing his thumb over his son’s tiny palm

-and adjusting the fleece blanket over his body so that he can sleep without any interruptions

-and when you were about to announce that you returned home after some chores

-he will literally put a finger over his lip and shush you down

-cuz we treasure quality sleep in this household

-he’s just was a fond grin and will look at his son with the heart eyes

-the kid is always. ALWAYS strapped onto him when it’s a family night

-softest bakugou imaginable

-and tummy raspberries

-when your child grows older

-he’s that dad who goes to every single one of their child’s events

-a basketball game? You bet

-an art competition? He’s gonna be so proud when his son wins

-his son wants to learn how to dance? This man is gonna attend every dance recital of his

-saavge clapback when your child is being lazy

-and then will crouch down to tell his son that he’s not mad at him

-and when your child manifests his quirk

-cue a bakugou who will retrieve his phone from his back pocket

-who will dial deku’s number to brag about how his son has a better quirk than his daughter

-honestly, he loves his family a bit too much to the point he becomes aggressively protective about it

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Marigold Fever

Bam! Hanahaki Azula! For those of you who don’t know what Hanahaki is, it’s a fictional disease where a person coughs up flowers until their unrequited love is requited. 

Petals flowed from her lips, vivid red like blood or the silk of her robes and sometimes with touches of marigold. It is almost beautiful in a haunting and dismal sort of way. Maybe if it were happening to someone else it would be morbidly aesthetic. Azula finds herself choking again, the petals it isn’t painful--more or less it is uncomfortable. At times it tastes strangely pleasant, but mostly it leaves an odd earthy taste in her mouth. She plucks the petals from her mouth and sets them aflame.

At least she has one advantage, she can get rid of the evidence of her otherworldly affliction. She can keep her problems to herself. Still she is frustrated with her predicament. Other than the steady stream of petals she can hide her feelings so well.

She thinks that it must be some sort of vengeance from the spirit world. Some twisted punishment for being so secretive and guarding. But is it really anyone’s business who she loves.

Is it even his business?

He has the Kyoshi girl anyhow. Some confession, sappy or not, would only be a bother to the man.

Azula is frustrated with herself and embarrassed all over again to know that it is Sokka in particular, of all people, that she has fallen for. The man is barely a man, more so some blundering hog-monkey than anything else. Yet her heart has taken a shine to the oaf.

She wanders down the hall for supper, hoping that the dining room will be empty this time. The thought of breaking into a coughing fit of flora is heavily unappealing. It isn’t empty when she arrives. But she has put off eating for too long, there is a dull ache in her belly and she can’t go another day without eating anything at all. Trying to make herself as inconspicuous as she can, Azula finds her seat. But she is noticed immediately, it isn’t a surprise being as her presence has become such a rarity these days.

She ignores the stares and tries to finish her meal quickly. But not at a pace her father would scold her for should he have been there. She listened to them chatter amid themselves. TyLee prattles on and on about how good being a Kyoshi warrior is doing her and Mai isn’t even pretending to be interested. Aang on the other hand is fully invested in the tale. Katara and Zuko speak of politics with an occasional jesting remark from Toph. She hears Suki speaking and actively tries to block out the sound of Sokka’s reply.

But it meets her ears anyhow and triggers a bought of coughs. At first they are flora free, they are still enough to earn her all eyes.

“Are you alright, Azula?” Zuko asks.

Azula nods but the fit doesn’t pass. She can feel them now, forming in her throat. She had already been covering her mouth, now she has it covered with both hands. The first few petals seep into her fingers. She moves one hand and snatches a napkin, holding it to her mouth as the fit grows more forceful. Involuntary tears spring to her eyes, it is hard to breathe. She doesn’t know how much more the napkin can hide so she dismisses herself without a word, hoping that they will attribute her departure to a more standard illness.

She can hear them talking as she departs; hushed voices asking Zuko if her illness is serious.

.oOo.

It had been a mistake to try to join them all for dinner and she doesn’t risk another trip to the dining hall for a while. Mostly she eats late at night or early in the morning when there are few souls up and about, much less Sokka.

But she is growing lonely. She likes to think that, prior to contracting hanahaki, she had been doing a good job of being a more approachable person. She doesn’t understand why she is being punished now. Doesn’t understand why the universe is making it hard for her to rebuild stable relationships.

Whatever the reason, she finally caves to her craving for social interaction. She makes her way towards the chattering voices in hopes of the best. Mai, Zuko, and TyLee are the only ones present and it is a relief to Azula. Maybe without Sokka around, she can get through a conversation.

She seats herself without a greeting. They don’t notice her at first.

“Oh! Azula! When did you get here?” TyLee asks with a smile as cheerful as Azula remembers.

“Just a few minutes ago.” She answers, she finds that her voice is hoarser than she recalls. Has it really been that long since she has spoken to someone?

“You don’t sound too good.” Mai comments casually.

“Yes.” Azula agrees. “I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“Do you need to see the physician?” Zuko offers.

Azula shakes her head. “I’ll manage.” She doesn’t know how but she will. She watches TyLee pluck a flower from the grass and cringes.

TyLee holds it out to her. “Here, it smells nice.”

Reflexively, Azula crinkles her nose. “Eh...no thanks, TyLee.” Quickly she adds, “I’m not much of a flower person.” She wishes that were the truth. Almost as feverishly as she wishes that her heart would have tied itself to TyLee instead. It would have been much easier, somehow less awkward. She feels bad for thinking of TyLee as a means to cure a disease, even if it had only been a passing thought.

“Alright, I’ll just give it to Mai.”

“Flowers are gross.” Mai grumbles. It takes all of Azula’s willpower to not mutter something akin to, ‘you’re telling me.’

“Zuko?” TyLee offers. He rolls his eyes and tucks the flower behind his ear.

“Well, how do I look?” He asks.

“You look exactly like how you run our country.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azula shrugs, “delicate and fragile.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Azula.”

She gives a smug smile. “Yes, I know. Who else will remind you that you’re a wimp?”

“Toph, occasionally.” Zuko notes.

“I’ll have to thank her for filling in for me.” She says it with a jesting smirk but a sorrow tickles her belly. She wishes that she can talk like this regularly. Hell, she wishes that she can stick around for the rest of this conversation. But her throat is beginning to prickle and she knows that she is overdue for a burst of petals. She looks at her palms and coughs once. She supposes that she should announce her departure before she can’t. She coughs again. “I am going to get myself a glass of water.”

“Sounds like you need it.” Mai agrees.

With a parting and agreeing nod, Azula stands. She is angry all over again that she has to cut the conversation short. It was going so well...she sighs. Only when she makes it to the quiet solitude of her room does she let herself succumb to the coughing. It is worse this time and her sides and throat ache from the ferocity of the fit. Her floor is a mess of wet petals.

She thinks that she can see speckles of blood.

She doesn’t know if it is from her throat being so raw or from the flowers themselves; perhaps the roses have grown thorns.

Azula curls herself on the ground, shaking at the thought.

She doesn’t want to know what is going on inside her throat.

Can she die from this?

She supposes that if love could kill anyone, it would take her out first.

.oOo.

She has only emerged from her room twice after that within a two week span, she resorts to using the bathroom that is conjoined with her room and having her meals delivered. She only speaks when someone knocks at her door and she is quick to push them out.

Azula doesn’t think that she is being unpleasant but has a feeling, all the same, that people are viewing her as cold and standoffish. They are beginning to visit her less. She chews the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t want to lose the delicate friendships she has formed and reformed.

She slips from her room once more. She can already feel the petals tingling in the back of her throat, threatening to spill themselves out at any moment.

When she emerges into the dining room, she finds it empty. The entry and living rooms are empty as well. So she checks the garden, only finding two people. “Where is everyone?”

“Aang wanted to take Zuko to some shop he discovered.” TyLee says. “I’ve already been there so I stayed behind.”

Azula’s stomach lurches as she addresses Sokka, “and you?”

“That shop is for kids.” Sokka replies. “I am a man.”

Azula gives a sarcastic sniff. “You think that you’re a man.” She is doing herself no favors in pushing the man away. His affection is rather critical to her health.

“What brings you out of your room?” Sokka asks.

With every word, the petals and vines in her throat seem to shift. “I needed some fresh air and conversation.”

“I thought that you didn’t like people.”

“She likes people!” TyLee declares.

“In moderation.” Azula half-lies.

“So, what, after ten minutes of talking you retreat to your room for a week to recover?”

Azula blinks at the sheer audacity of the man. All the same, she has to admire his bold brazenness. “I might need more than that to recuperate from you.”

Sokka laughs. “Glad I can drive you that crazy!” He slings his arm over her shoulder and around her neck. It is more than enough, she doubles over almost immediately. She barely hears TyLee shout her name.

This round of coughs is much more violent. She can hardly breath and she thinks that she may choke. So she really can die from love. What a truly wild notion. Her body seems to fold in on itself on its own accord. Petals are weeping from her mouth and she can’t even hope to conceal them. The sheer amount is overbearing.

The grass beneath her is a mess of rose and marigold by the time her fit passes. She is breathless, her eyes watery. She feels so weak and drained, she doesn’t even try to pick herself up. She doesn’t know who is rubbing her back. She thinks that it is TyLee. TyLee has rubbed her back like that before. She finds herself being lifted up. Sokka nuzzles her into his arms. He pets her hair. She appreciates the thought but, Agni is she scared, he is going to trigger another round.

TyLee observes the scatter of petals. The same petals Sokka is quizzically staring at. Azula swallows.

“What the hell was that?” Sokka finally asks.

“Oh, Azula.” TyLee clasps her hands together a look of sympathy splaying itself on her face. And then she gives a soft chuckle. “You would get yourself a case of hanasaki.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Azula mutters, her voice twice as raspy.

“You’re always bottling things up.” She gives Azula an affectionate boop that the princess makes a point of ignoring. “This is why you can’t do that.”

“What’s a hanahaki?” Sokka asks.

“Uncultured peasant.” Azula folds her arms and fixes him with a half-pout. Not that she isn’t thankful for his cluelessness. She can’t imagine that it will uphold with TyLee around.

“It’s romantic, Sokka!” TyLee gushes. At this, Azula scoffs. “But it’s also really tragic. If a person falls in love--and it has to be real, true love!--and it isn’t required then they start coughing up flower petals. The disease can only be cured by the person returning their affections.”

Azula feels her cheeks flaring.

“That’s adorable, Azula.”

Azula’s face grows reader and her frown deepens. “It won’t be so adorable when I toss you into the turtleduck pond.” Perhaps she can make herself hate him. But she doesn’t, she can’t.

Somehow is infuriating teasing is also endearing. “Why can’t I just cough up fire or something befitting of me.”

“That’s not how hanahaki works!” TyLee exclaims. “It wouldn’t be romantic.”

“I hate romance.” Azula mutters.

“Apparently, that’s not true.” Sokka remarks.

“I can be in love, but I don’t have to like it.” She says more to herself than anyone.

“So who is it?” Sokka asks.

The question takes her by surprise. “That’s none of your business.”  

“Is it mine?” TyLee asks hopefully.

“No!” Azula snaps reflexively. “Maybe. But only if you can keep your mouth shut about it.”

This gives Sokka a devilish idea. “I won’t tell the rest of the gang if you tell me who is responsible for your hanasaki.”

“Hanahaki.” Azula corrects. “If I tell you, will you kick his ass for me?”

Sokka thinks for a moment before agreeing. It is another nice sentiment, but she keeps her lips sealed. He has put her in an uncomfortable position. Either he is going to find out about her girlish crush or everyone else will find out that she has one. She doesn’t know which evil is worse.  

She wonders if setting him on fire would end her affliction or end her life. She folds her arms over her chest and holds her silence. Her eyes fall upon the heap of petals, they flutter about between grass blades. “Fine. Tell them, they’re probably going to find out sooner or later.”

She must have sounded pretty dismal because his voice loses all jest, “I’m won’t tell them.” He pauses. “But I think that you should tell...whoever it is. That,” he motions to the indent that her body left in the grass, “looked kind of painful.”

“It is…” She trails off.

“I’m sure whoever it is will return your feelings.” He pauses for a moment and his own cheeks seem to grow redder, he goes through with what he wants to say regardless. “You’re really pretty and one of the smartest people I know.” And then the jesting is back, “you’re kind of a major jerkbender, which I think is a family trait, probably. But I’m sure that person would like you anyways.”

“I doubt it.” Azula mutters.

“Why?” TyLee asks.

“They’re taken.”

“Oh.” She replies glumly.

“But if they weren’t would you tell them?” Sokka asks.

“I think...maybe.” Azula replies. She supposes that she would rather be direct. She has a momentum going and for a moment she thinks about telling him anyhow. But before he can he picks a flower petal off of the ground and tucks it into her hair. “Ew, Sokka, that was in my mouth.”

“Yeah, I’m the one who should be saying ew. It’s your slobber not mine.”

She truly doesn’t understand her own thinking, she should be completely off put by his foolish remarks, and yet she isn’t. She finds his humor rather comforting, even if it is on the childish side. Still, she doesn’t let on, “do you want to end up in the turtleduck pond?”

Sokka laughs.

“You two are adorable.” TyLee smiles.

He laughs louder. “Yeah, maybe now that Suki left me we can start our epic romance!” He jabs Azula in the ribcage. “What do you think about that, Azula?”

She fights to keep the heat out of her cheeks. “It sounds awful.”

[flauntpage]

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks

For our 2017-18 NBA Season Preview, we're doing deep dives on five teams who can beat the Warriors in the next five years—and the players who can push them over the top.

Giannis Antetokounmpo's transformation from gangly neophyte into menacing prophet has been stunning not just for its pace but also for its smoothness. His is the rare story of tantalizing potential fully redeemed, and then some. He has increased his production in all five major statistical categories each of his four seasons in the league, and he's just 22. He'll tell us when he's done.

What the 6'11" matchup catastrophe can already do—defend from the perimeter to the rim, gyro-step across continents, dunk everything in sight—sets up the Milwaukee Bucks to contend for years to come. But even Antetokounmpo, Destroyer of Worlds will need help to take down the Golden State Warriors. By 2021, a fully formed Thon Maker, a somehow wilier Malcolm Brogdon, and Khris Middleton playing baseline jazz will be enough to make it a series.

Whether the Bucks can win that series depends on the team's other 22-year-old star forward, Jabari Parker. The injuries that have so far derailed Parker's career put the linearity of Antetokounmpo's ascent in stark relief. An athletic marvel in his own right, Parker had as much offensive polish coming out of college as any player drafted this decade. Stretching his bruising game to the three-point line last season, the former Duke Blue Devil emerged as the ideal counterpunch to Antetokounmpo. Together, they made half-court sets a paint-stripping cyclone of drives, dives, and back-cuts.

But for the second time in three years, Parker's season ended prematurely with a torn left ACL. The short list of NBA players who have sustained this knee injury twice does not offer an especially promising outlook for Parker's recovery. Michael Redd was a shell of himself after a 14-month absence. Baron Davis never made it back. Tony Wroten fails to register.

Parker's second ACL tear. Photo by Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

And yet, everyone who knows Jabari Parker thinks his story will end differently. "Jabari believes he's supposed to be special," said Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski. "And he's willing to pay the price to be special. Road blocks like this, which are supposed to be big ones, are not going to deter him reaching that destination."

Parker has more than an army of believers supporting him in his recovery. He also has the steady march of science at his back, and one of the best ACL rehabbers in the world in his corner. And he's still just 22.

When an NBA player tears an anterior cruciate ligament, he usually hears a pop. It's the sound of his femur and tibia separating from each other as the rope connecting them frays and the cartilage surrounding the joint cuts loose. The surgery requires about a year's worth of rehab.

Why injuries of the anterior cruciate ligament have been on the rise over the past decade is anyone's guess. "It's the Nobel Prize–winning question," said Dr. David Altchek, who performed Parker's first ACL surgery. The sheer force being applied to knee joints by increasingly explosive athletes could be one liability; looking at the NBA specifically, Dr. Altchek blames the Eurostep.

The operation is fairly standard. The surgeon takes a graft, usually of the patellar tendon, and uses it to build a new ACL. If the new ACL fails—as Parker's did—a second graft will be taken for the revision, usually from the opposite knee, but the success rate of an ACL revision surgery is lower—about 75 percent, according to Dr. Robert LaPrade, who performed Parker's second surgery. "The biology of the whole healing response is not as precise," Altchek said.

That would seem to spell trouble for a player of Parker's intensity, and it does—no medical professional would deny the vulnerability of his left knee henceforth. But an avalanche of research and innovation in ACL injury prevention and recovery could swing his future.

One study, funded by Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, investigates the effectiveness of HGH in rehabilitating the injury. Another explores the insertion of a synthetic brace around the ligament. Stem-cell injections and platelet-rich plasma treatments are already being performed in the United States to accelerate healing; though their effectiveness has not been empirically proven, it's not hard to imagine something along those lines becoming standard practice down the road.

Meanwhile, Parker has been seen dunking. He's only seven months removed from his surgery, and five months away from his slated return, but Parker's second comeback is already looking a lot like his first. Reporters who have seen him practicing the past few weeks say he's showing no ill effects in non-contact drills—pivoting and showing burst, elevating off of one foot and two.

He has plenty going for him his second time around. He was in peak physical condition when he went down, which he has said allowed his recovery to begin earlier. Age is on his side. And he has the resilience of a damn CAA intern. Look at what Parker told Sports Illustrated in a video posted online Thursday:

I see beauty in my scars. They tell my story. And when I'm able to uplift myself from those positions, I'm always going to backtrack and remind myself the grit, the pain, the disappointment that it's gonna take to be successful one day.

What the Bucks will not say—the team did not make anyone available for this story—is how he has gotten up to speed this quickly.

Occam's razor would suggest the guidance of Suki Hobson, the team's director of strength and conditioning who also oversaw Parker's first ACL comeback. Originally from England, Hobson honed her craft in Australia, which is famous for producing some of the world's top sports scientists (including several who work for NBA teams today). She rehabbed fallen rugby players, footballers, and BMX riders before joining the Bucks' staff about six months after Parker's first ACL injury.

Hobson's knowledge of knee function, one trainer told me, is considered industry-leading. And Parker's training program seemed fun, an American Ninja Warrior–esque gauntlet of trampolines, balance beams, and monkey bars. Now it includes dunking. If nothing else, it's a promising indicator of the player Hobson is trying to rebuild, and of his place in the offense Milwaukee wants to restore.

The funny thing is, the knock on Jabari Parker coming out of college was that he wasn't particularly athletic. That was a misconception, partly a function of context—he was picked immediately after YouTube demigod Andrew Wiggins—and also the result of a foot injury that sidelined him for much of his senior year of high school and limited him at Duke.

"We never got the 100 percent Jabari here," said Jeff Capel, a Duke assistant coach who remains close with Parker. "People forgot that he was this great athlete in high school [before] he hurt his foot." He came into the NBA at 19 years old, seemingly with baby fat still on his arms. His knee gave out only 25 games in.

It was not until Jabari 2.0, the goateed player coming off that first ACL tear in late 2015, that the NBA saw his tape-measure verticality, that Jamesian blend of power and agility. In handing the Golden State Warriors their first loss in a record-breaking 73-9 season, Parker poured in 19 points, showcasing the full package of transition scoring, off-ball creativity, and touch from the perimeter. Jabari 3.0, debuting in late February 2018, might somehow be even scarier.

2021 is a long way away, with everyone but Antetokounmpo and Maker up for new contracts between now and then. If the Bucks can't reach an extension with Parker before this season starts, he'll be a restricted free agent next summer. But teams with championship aspirations don't let great assets walk. He figures to be in Milwaukee for a few more playoff runs.

Time, luck, and science will tell how deep Parker can take them—how long he can last in the ring with Draymond Green, whether his lateral movement will ever fully return, what kind of player he will be. But Parker isn't feeling bad for himself. He'll be making up for lost time starting again in February.

"He has a way, man, which is weird, it's so different," Capel said. "He's had these two injuries. He was playing great and all of a sudden it happened. But right afterwards he's reassuring you—you're heartbroken and all those things, and he's the one picking you up. He's strong, he's resilient, and he came back better and more explosive. I think you're going to see the same thing from this injury."

Bouncing back from a second torn ACL on a 12-month timeline wouldn't be normal. A full recovery sustained through his athletic prime might be even more improbable. But maybe that makes it Parker's most likely outcome.

"I mean, he's a freak," Capel added with a chuckle. "Some guys are like that."

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[amtushinfosolutionspage]

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks

Giannis Antetokounmpo’s transformation from gangly neophyte into menacing prophet has been stunning not just for its pace but also for its smoothness. His is the rare story of tantalizing potential fully redeemed, and then some. He has increased his production in all five major statistical categories each of his four seasons in the league, and he’s just 22. He’ll tell us when he’s done.

What the 6’11” matchup catastrophe can already do—defend from the perimeter to the rim, gyro-step across continents, dunk everything in sight—sets up the Milwaukee Bucks to contend for years to come. But even Antetokounmpo, Destroyer of Worlds will need help to take down the Golden State Warriors. By 2021, a fully formed Thon Maker, a somehow wilier Malcolm Brogdon, and Khris Middleton playing baseline jazz will be enough to make it a series.

Whether the Bucks can win that series depends on the team’s other 22-year-old star forward, Jabari Parker. The injuries that have so far derailed Parker’s career put the linearity of Antetokounmpo’s ascent in stark relief. An athletic marvel in his own right, Parker had as much offensive polish coming out of college as any player drafted this decade. Stretching his bruising game to the three-point line last season, the former Duke Blue Devil emerged as the ideal counterpunch to Antetokounmpo. Together, they made half-court sets a paint-stripping cyclone of drives, dives, and back-cuts.

But for the second time in three years, Parker’s season ended prematurely with a torn left ACL. The short list of NBA players who have sustained this knee injury twice does not offer an especially promising outlook for Parker’s recovery. Michael Redd was a shell of himself after a 14-month absence. Baron Davis never made it back. Tony Wroten fails to register.

Parker’s second ACL tear. Photo by Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

And yet, everyone who knows Jabari Parker thinks his story will end differently. “Jabari believes he’s supposed to be special,” said Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski. “And he’s willing to pay the price to be special. Road blocks like this, which are supposed to be big ones, are not going to deter him reaching that destination.”

Parker has more than an army of believers supporting him in his recovery. He also has the steady march of science at his back, and one of the best ACL rehabbers in the world in his corner. And he’s still just 22.

When an NBA player tears an anterior cruciate ligament, he usually hears a pop. It’s the sound of his femur and tibia separating from each other as the rope connecting them frays and the cartilage surrounding the joint cuts loose. The surgery requires about a year’s worth of rehab.

Why injuries of the anterior cruciate ligament have been on the rise over the past decade is anyone’s guess. “It’s the Nobel Prize–winning question,” said Dr. David Altchek, who performed Parker’s first ACL surgery. The sheer force being applied to knee joints by increasingly explosive athletes could be one liability; looking at the NBA specifically, Dr. Altchek blames the Eurostep.

The operation is fairly standard. The surgeon takes a graft, usually of the patellar tendon, and uses it to build a new ACL. If the new ACL fails—as Parker’s did—a second graft will be taken for the revision, usually from the opposite knee, but the success rate of an ACL revision surgery is lower—about 75 percent, according to Dr. Robert LaPrade, who performed Parker’s second surgery. “The biology of the whole healing response is not as precise,” Altchek said.

That would seem to spell trouble for a player of Parker’s intensity, and it does—no medical professional would deny the vulnerability of his left knee henceforth. But an avalanche of research and innovation in ACL injury prevention and recovery could swing his future.

One study, funded by Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, investigates the effectiveness of HGH in rehabilitating the injury. Another explores the insertion of a synthetic brace around the ligament. Stem-cell injections and platelet-rich plasma treatments are already being performed in the United States to accelerate healing; though their effectiveness has not been empirically proven, it’s not hard to imagine something along those lines becoming standard practice down the road.

Meanwhile, Parker has been seen dunking. He’s only seven months removed from his surgery, and five months away from his slated return, but Parker’s second comeback is already looking a lot like his first. Reporters who have seen him practicing the past few weeks say he’s showing no ill effects in non-contact drills—pivoting and showing burst, elevating off of one foot and two.

He has plenty going for him his second time around. He was in peak physical condition when he went down, which he has said allowed his recovery to begin earlier. Age is on his side. And he has the resilience of a damn CAA intern. Look at what Parker told Sports Illustrated in a video posted online Thursday:

I see beauty in my scars. They tell my story. And when I’m able to uplift myself from those positions, I’m always going to backtrack and remind myself the grit, the pain, the disappointment that it’s gonna take to be successful one day.

What the Bucks will not say—the team did not make anyone available for this story—is how he has gotten up to speed this quickly.

Occam’s razor would suggest the guidance of Suki Hobson, the team’s director of strength and conditioning who also oversaw Parker’s first ACL comeback. Originally from England, Hobson honed her craft in Australia, which is famous for producing some of the world’s top sports scientists (including several who work for NBA teams today). She rehabbed fallen rugby players, footballers, and BMX riders before joining the Bucks’ staff about six months after Parker’s first ACL injury.

Hobson’s knowledge of knee function, one trainer told me, is considered industry-leading. And Parker’s training program seemed fun, an American Ninja Warrior–esque gauntlet of trampolines, balance beams, and monkey bars. Now it includes dunking. If nothing else, it’s a promising indicator of the player Hobson is trying to rebuild, and of his place in the offense Milwaukee wants to restore.

The funny thing is, the knock on Jabari Parker coming out of college was that he wasn’t particularly athletic. That was a misconception, partly a function of context—he was picked immediately after YouTube demigod Andrew Wiggins—and also the result of a foot injury that sidelined him for much of his senior year of high school and limited him at Duke.

“We never got the 100 percent Jabari here,” said Jeff Caple, a Duke assistant coach who remains close with Parker. “People forgot that he was this great athlete in high school [before] he hurt his foot.” He came into the NBA at 19 years old, seemingly with baby fat still on his arms. His knee gave out only 25 games in.

It was not until Jabari 2.0, the goateed player coming off that first ACL tear in late 2015, that the NBA saw his tape-measure verticality, that Jamesian blend of power and agility. In handing the Golden State Warriors their first loss in a record-breaking 73-9 season, Parker poured in 19 points, showcasing the full package of transition scoring, off-ball creativity, and touch from the perimeter. Jabari 3.0, debuting in late February 2018, might somehow be even scarier.

2021 is a long way away, with everyone but Antetokounmpo and Maker up for new contracts between now and then. If the Bucks can’t reach an extension with Parker before this season starts, he’ll be a restricted free agent next summer. But teams with championship aspirations don’t let great assets walk. He figures to be in Milwaukee for a few more playoff runs.

Time, luck, and science will tell how deep Parker can take them—how long he can last in the ring with Draymond Green, whether his lateral movement will ever fully return, what kind of player he will be. But Parker isn’t feeling bad for himself. He’ll be making up for lost time starting again in February.

“He has a way, man, which is weird, it’s so different,” Caple said. “He’s had these two injuries. He was playing great and all of a sudden it happened. But right afterwards he’s reassuring you—you’re heartbroken and all those things, and he’s the one picking you up. He’s strong, he’s resilient, and he came back better and more explosive. I think you’re going to see the same thing from this injury.”

Bouncing back from a second torn ACL on a 12-month timeline wouldn’t be normal. A full recovery sustained through his athletic prime might be even more improbable. But maybe that makes it Parker’s most likely outcome.

“I mean, he’s a freak,” Caple added with a chuckle. “Some guys are like that.”

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks syndicated from http://ift.tt/2ug2Ns6

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Marigold Fever (Last Part)

She sleeps for a long while and Sokka is hesitant to leave her. At the very least, her sleep look peaceful. She lays on her back, clutching lightly at the sheets in her sleep. Every now and again she utters a soft cough. He watches her roll onto her side before Zuko beckons him out of the room.

“She probably won’t appreciate waking up and seeing someone staring at her.” Zuko comments upon re-entering the hallway.

Sokka imagines a fistful of fire in his face and nods, “yeah, you’re probably right.” He decides to wander off to his own room. He has to admit that he is still rattled from almost having someone die in his arms. Someone who he is growing fond of at that.

He lays upon his own bed, one arm behind his head and the draped over his middle and stares at the ceiling.  It had been too close a call for him to rest easy. And there is something else. Something he can’t place that bothers him.

Though he isn’t sure that bother is the right word.

He tries to put it out of his mind and think of something more pleasant. Evidently his mind doesn’t leave the slumbering princess. Azula isn’t exactly the sort of person who he’d have thought that he’d find pleasant. Yet, he has grown comforted by her presence and her snide remarks, accompanied by chipper comments from TyLee. Before her health had taken a sharper decline, Azula almost seemed to be in good spirits.  

Perhaps it is bizarre given the circumstances, but it had been nice to hold her so close.

He hopes that she will recover soon.

.oOo.

She doesn’t know what time it is but she does know that it had been early morning when she’d…

Her head is fuzzy and her thinking is still jumbled. Light streams over her face, it is warm and consoling. A tingle prickles in her belly at the thought that she might be dead. Didn’t they say something about light and warmth in dying. She writes that off relatively quickly. She can’t imagine that she’d be seeing the light side of the spirit world, in passing.

She sits up and tries to rid some of the haze in her head. For a moment she holds her position with her head dipping and her eyelids drooping. She thinks that she may fall asleep again.

She must have briefly nodded off because her head is against the pillow once more and the sun is hanging lower in the sky. The rays it casts on her floor have shifted some.

This time, Azula forces herself out of bed. She still feels light-headed and the room sways some. She puts her weight against the wall and waits for the spell to pass. She utters a few coughs, a residual lingering irritation in her throat.

It takes her another cough and a moment to realize that the petals had either withered and shrunken or retracted and disappeared altogether.

She doesn’t feel like wandering back across the room to check the mirror, but she brings her fingers to her neck. It is smooth. Still somewhat swollen, but free of the bulging impression of the vines.

She isn’t one for crippling emotions but it is a fight to keep herself from collapsing in sheer relief. Azula wanders into the hallway with the last of the fog in her brain clearing. It has cleared enough for her to put two and two together and her stomach lurches.

She had anticipated a slow and agonizing death.

She had made plans for that.

She hasn’t made any regarding what she would do if her love were to be reciprocated.   

.oOo.

Sokka frowns, his drawing is not going how he wants it to. His lion-turtle looks more like Appa, but if Appa was having really bad fur day. His skin prickles, at first he can’t place why. He looks up and jolts, nearly toppling his chair.

Azula stands in the doorway, still in her night robe--he supposes that, at this late in the evening, there is no point in her changing out of it. She regards him with languid gold eyes. He doesn’t know what she is doing here but he doesn’t intend on shooing her away.

“What are you drawing?” He can hear the strain in her voice.

Before remembering that he is not satisfied with his art, he pridefully holds up his masterpiece and declares, “it’s a lion-turtle.”

“I hate it.” Azula comments dryly and with all of the social elegance he expects of her.

“Actually, me too.” He admits rubbing the back of his head.

“Can I set it on fire?” She holds her hand out.

Sokka holds it protectively to his chest. “No!”

She laughs, but this only irritates her throat and she is hunched over coughing. The fit passes. It must have depleted what little energy she had left, because the firebender sits herself on the floor.

“Here.” Sokka gets up. He helps her into the chair.  “How are you feeling?”

“I suppose, fine...for having almost died.” She flips the lion-turtle drawing over with a matter-of-fact, “his intense stare was creeping me out. Seriously, can I burn that monstrosity?”

“Kozu didn’t do anything to you.”

Azula crinkles her nose. “Did you really name that thing after my brother?”

He realizes that she has just changed the subject.

“Any more petals?”

Azula shakes her head.

Perhaps he is absently putting the pieces together because it dawns on him that he is probably the first person she visited after waking. And she is in his room, she has sought him out in particular. She has her head down, face buried in her arms.

If the petals are gone then that means…

Does he really love her?

He peers at her, meeting her gaze when she turns her head up.

He thinks that he does.

.oOo.

Azula supposes that she has her victory.

The flowers are gone and she hasn’t had to utter a word of confession.

She is under the impression that Sokka will coax a vocalization out of her anyways. Likely after she has recovered. That is if he can put two and two together. She believes that he already has, he is giving her the stupid lopsided grin.

“Stop that.” She murmurs.

“You like me don’t you?”  

Foolish of her to assume that he would wait. “Less and less every time you speak.”

He wasn’t supposed to smile more. But he does. He isn’t making things any less awkward for her. She longs to avert her gaze, but she holds it. He loses the shit-eating grin and pulls up a chair for himself. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Azula shrugs.

“You said that you would if he was single. I have a whole folder of heartbreak art to prove it.”

Azula shrugs a second time. “Didn’t want to make things weird.”

Sokka blinks. “Spontaneously dying in the middle of the floor kind of makes any situation weird.”

“Yes, well, I’d be dead so I wouldn’t have to deal with any of the awkwardness.”

He laughs. “You’re incredible.” She can’t tell if he means so endearingly or incredulously or some hybrid of the two.

“Yes.” She agrees. Truth be told she also didn’t fancy the idea of rejection. Not after having received it from her father and at one point her uncle, mother, and ex-friends. It still clings to her even with most relationships decently patched up.

But he hasn’t rejected her. She feels her neck again. The vines would still twitch there if he had. Still, she has no idea what to do with that.

He sighs, “you really aren’t good at this romance thing, are you?”

She shakes her head.

“Well good thing that you have found yourself a professional.”

“Zuko told me that he walked in on you with a rose in your mouth and…”

Sokka’s face grows red. “Well that makes two of us!”

She blinks twice. He isn’t wrong. “I didn’t put mine there.” Technically she had though, in some sense.

He knows it too. He stops laughing again. “It’s not as hard as you think.” He flashes her a reassuring grin.

“You’ll find that I’m not the cuddly, clingy sort.”

“That’s the beauty of love!” Sokka sweeps his arms out in a grand arc. “You don’t have to be. For some reason, I like...I love you anyways. I’m kind of tired of clingy anyways. Suki is great, but sometimes a man needs his man time.”

“As long as I never find out exactly what that entails, have at it.” She comments with a wave of her hand. She puts her head back against the table, feeling drowsy all over again.

“Besides,” Sokka continues, “I think that this is rather romantic don’t you think.”

She cocks her head.

“Stumbling upon a heartbroken man doing art.”

Azula rolls her eyes. At this he grows serious again. “What I mean is, I don’t need you to be a Suki. I don’t need you to be fluffy or cuddly. I think that I’d probably hate that actually, it would be a little creepy. I just need you to be…”

“Alive?” Azula fills in.

“That too.” Sokka chuckles. “I just need you to be Azula. Just do what you usually do. I fell in love with that, so...uh...keep doing it I guess.”

She hides her face in her arms, under the guise of not feeling well. At least the fading disease has given her a subtle means of hiding an absurdly flushed face. She can’t recall a time when anyone has said something like that to her.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” He asks. “Your bed is probably more comfy than this desk.”

Azula picks her head back up and then stands up, simultaneously pushing her chair out. She motions for him to follow.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat or drink? You missed lunch.”

Azula nods. “Let Zuzu know that he’s not safe from me yet. I’m still going to kick his ass at kuai ball this summer.”

“I’ll deliver the message.” Sokka promises once they reach her bedroom. He leaves her in the doorway with a parting kiss. She brings her fingers to her lips. She supposes that she hadn’t entirely hated it.

No, she rather liked it.

[flauntpage]

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks

Giannis Antetokounmpo's transformation from gangly neophyte into menacing prophet has been stunning not just for its pace but also for its smoothness. His is the rare story of tantalizing potential fully redeemed, and then some. He has increased his production in all five major statistical categories each of his four seasons in the league, and he's just 22. He'll tell us when he's done.

What the 6'11" matchup catastrophe can already do—defend from the perimeter to the rim, gyro-step across continents, dunk everything in sight—sets up the Milwaukee Bucks to contend for years to come. But even Antetokounmpo, Destroyer of Worlds will need help to take down the Golden State Warriors. By 2021, a fully formed Thon Maker, a somehow wilier Malcolm Brogdon, and Khris Middleton playing baseline jazz will be enough to make it a series.

Whether the Bucks can win that series depends on the team's other 22-year-old star forward, Jabari Parker. The injuries that have so far derailed Parker's career put the linearity of Antetokounmpo's ascent in stark relief. An athletic marvel in his own right, Parker had as much offensive polish coming out of college as any player drafted this decade. Stretching his bruising game to the three-point line last season, the former Duke Blue Devil emerged as the ideal counterpunch to Antetokounmpo. Together, they made half-court sets a paint-stripping cyclone of drives, dives, and back-cuts.

But for the second time in three years, Parker's season ended prematurely with a torn left ACL. The short list of NBA players who have sustained this knee injury twice does not offer an especially promising outlook for Parker's recovery. Michael Redd was a shell of himself after a 14-month absence. Baron Davis never made it back. Tony Wroten fails to register.

Parker's second ACL tear. Photo by Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

And yet, everyone who knows Jabari Parker thinks his story will end differently. "Jabari believes he's supposed to be special," said Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski. "And he's willing to pay the price to be special. Road blocks like this, which are supposed to be big ones, are not going to deter him reaching that destination."

Parker has more than an army of believers supporting him in his recovery. He also has the steady march of science at his back, and one of the best ACL rehabbers in the world in his corner. And he's still just 22.

When an NBA player tears an anterior cruciate ligament, he usually hears a pop. It's the sound of his femur and tibia separating from each other as the rope connecting them frays and the cartilage surrounding the joint cuts loose. The surgery requires about a year's worth of rehab.

Why injuries of the anterior cruciate ligament have been on the rise over the past decade is anyone's guess. "It's the Nobel Prize–winning question," said Dr. David Altchek, who performed Parker's first ACL surgery. The sheer force being applied to knee joints by increasingly explosive athletes could be one liability; looking at the NBA specifically, Dr. Altchek blames the Eurostep.

The operation is fairly standard. The surgeon takes a graft, usually of the patellar tendon, and uses it to build a new ACL. If the new ACL fails—as Parker's did—a second graft will be taken for the revision, usually from the opposite knee, but the success rate of an ACL revision surgery is lower—about 75 percent, according to Dr. Robert LaPrade, who performed Parker's second surgery. "The biology of the whole healing response is not as precise," Altchek said.

That would seem to spell trouble for a player of Parker's intensity, and it does—no medical professional would deny the vulnerability of his left knee henceforth. But an avalanche of research and innovation in ACL injury prevention and recovery could swing his future.

One study, funded by Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, investigates the effectiveness of HGH in rehabilitating the injury. Another explores the insertion of a synthetic brace around the ligament. Stem-cell injections and platelet-rich plasma treatments are already being performed in the United States to accelerate healing; though their effectiveness has not been empirically proven, it's not hard to imagine something along those lines becoming standard practice down the road.

Meanwhile, Parker has been seen dunking. He's only seven months removed from his surgery, and five months away from his slated return, but Parker's second comeback is already looking a lot like his first. Reporters who have seen him practicing the past few weeks say he's showing no ill effects in non-contact drills—pivoting and showing burst, elevating off of one foot and two.

He has plenty going for him his second time around. He was in peak physical condition when he went down, which he has said allowed his recovery to begin earlier. Age is on his side. And he has the resilience of a damn CAA intern. Look at what Parker told Sports Illustrated in a video posted online Thursday:

I see beauty in my scars. They tell my story. And when I'm able to uplift myself from those positions, I'm always going to backtrack and remind myself the grit, the pain, the disappointment that it's gonna take to be successful one day.

What the Bucks will not say—the team did not make anyone available for this story—is how he has gotten up to speed this quickly.

Occam's razor would suggest the guidance of Suki Hobson, the team's director of strength and conditioning who also oversaw Parker's first ACL comeback. Originally from England, Hobson honed her craft in Australia, which is famous for producing some of the world's top sports scientists (including several who work for NBA teams today). She rehabbed fallen rugby players, footballers, and BMX riders before joining the Bucks' staff about six months after Parker's first ACL injury.

Hobson's knowledge of knee function, one trainer told me, is considered industry-leading. And Parker's training program seemed fun, an American Ninja Warrior–esque gauntlet of trampolines, balance beams, and monkey bars. Now it includes dunking. If nothing else, it's a promising indicator of the player Hobson is trying to rebuild, and of his place in the offense Milwaukee wants to restore.

The funny thing is, the knock on Jabari Parker coming out of college was that he wasn't particularly athletic. That was a misconception, partly a function of context—he was picked immediately after YouTube demigod Andrew Wiggins—and also the result of a foot injury that sidelined him for much of his senior year of high school and limited him at Duke.

"We never got the 100 percent Jabari here," said Jeff Capel, a Duke assistant coach who remains close with Parker. "People forgot that he was this great athlete in high school [before] he hurt his foot." He came into the NBA at 19 years old, seemingly with baby fat still on his arms. His knee gave out only 25 games in.

It was not until Jabari 2.0, the goateed player coming off that first ACL tear in late 2015, that the NBA saw his tape-measure verticality, that Jamesian blend of power and agility. In handing the Golden State Warriors their first loss in a record-breaking 73-9 season, Parker poured in 19 points, showcasing the full package of transition scoring, off-ball creativity, and touch from the perimeter. Jabari 3.0, debuting in late February 2018, might somehow be even scarier.

2021 is a long way away, with everyone but Antetokounmpo and Maker up for new contracts between now and then. If the Bucks can't reach an extension with Parker before this season starts, he'll be a restricted free agent next summer. But teams with championship aspirations don't let great assets walk. He figures to be in Milwaukee for a few more playoff runs.

Time, luck, and science will tell how deep Parker can take them—how long he can last in the ring with Draymond Green, whether his lateral movement will ever fully return, what kind of player he will be. But Parker isn't feeling bad for himself. He'll be making up for lost time starting again in February.

"He has a way, man, which is weird, it's so different," Capel said. "He's had these two injuries. He was playing great and all of a sudden it happened. But right afterwards he's reassuring you—you're heartbroken and all those things, and he's the one picking you up. He's strong, he's resilient, and he came back better and more explosive. I think you're going to see the same thing from this injury."

Bouncing back from a second torn ACL on a 12-month timeline wouldn't be normal. A full recovery sustained through his athletic prime might be even more improbable. But maybe that makes it Parker's most likely outcome.

"I mean, he's a freak," Capel added with a chuckle. "Some guys are like that."

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[flauntpage]

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks

Giannis Antetokounmpo's transformation from gangly neophyte into menacing prophet has been stunning not just for its pace but also for its smoothness. His is the rare story of tantalizing potential fully redeemed, and then some. He has increased his production in all five major statistical categories each of his four seasons in the league, and he's just 22. He'll tell us when he's done.

What the 6'11" matchup catastrophe can already do—defend from the perimeter to the rim, gyro-step across continents, dunk everything in sight—sets up the Milwaukee Bucks to contend for years to come. But even Antetokounmpo, Destroyer of Worlds will need help to take down the Golden State Warriors. By 2021, a fully formed Thon Maker, a somehow wilier Malcolm Brogdon, and Khris Middleton playing baseline jazz will be enough to make it a series.

Whether the Bucks can win that series depends on the team's other 22-year-old star forward, Jabari Parker. The injuries that have so far derailed Parker's career put the linearity of Antetokounmpo's ascent in stark relief. An athletic marvel in his own right, Parker had as much offensive polish coming out of college as any player drafted this decade. Stretching his bruising game to the three-point line last season, the former Duke Blue Devil emerged as the ideal counterpunch to Antetokounmpo. Together, they made half-court sets a paint-stripping cyclone of drives, dives, and back-cuts.

But for the second time in three years, Parker's season ended prematurely with a torn left ACL. The short list of NBA players who have sustained this knee injury twice does not offer an especially promising outlook for Parker's recovery. Michael Redd was a shell of himself after a 14-month absence. Baron Davis never made it back. Tony Wroten fails to register.

Parker's second ACL tear. Photo by Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

And yet, everyone who knows Jabari Parker thinks his story will end differently. "Jabari believes he's supposed to be special," said Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski. "And he's willing to pay the price to be special. Road blocks like this, which are supposed to be big ones, are not going to deter him reaching that destination."

Parker has more than an army of believers supporting him in his recovery. He also has the steady march of science at his back, and one of the best ACL rehabbers in the world in his corner. And he's still just 22.

When an NBA player tears an anterior cruciate ligament, he usually hears a pop. It's the sound of his femur and tibia separating from each other as the rope connecting them frays and the cartilage surrounding the joint cuts loose. The surgery requires about a year's worth of rehab.

Why injuries of the anterior cruciate ligament have been on the rise over the past decade is anyone's guess. "It's the Nobel Prize–winning question," said Dr. David Altchek, who performed Parker's first ACL surgery. The sheer force being applied to knee joints by increasingly explosive athletes could be one liability; looking at the NBA specifically, Dr. Altchek blames the Eurostep.

The operation is fairly standard. The surgeon takes a graft, usually of the patellar tendon, and uses it to build a new ACL. If the new ACL fails—as Parker's did—a second graft will be taken for the revision, usually from the opposite knee, but the success rate of an ACL revision surgery is lower—about 75 percent, according to Dr. Robert LaPrade, who performed Parker's second surgery. "The biology of the whole healing response is not as precise," Altchek said.

That would seem to spell trouble for a player of Parker's intensity, and it does—no medical professional would deny the vulnerability of his left knee henceforth. But an avalanche of research and innovation in ACL injury prevention and recovery could swing his future.

One study, funded by Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, investigates the effectiveness of HGH in rehabilitating the injury. Another explores the insertion of a synthetic brace around the ligament. Stem-cell injections and platelet-rich plasma treatments are already being performed in the United States to accelerate healing; though their effectiveness has not been empirically proven, it's not hard to imagine something along those lines becoming standard practice down the road.

Meanwhile, Parker has been seen dunking. He's only seven months removed from his surgery, and five months away from his slated return, but Parker's second comeback is already looking a lot like his first. Reporters who have seen him practicing the past few weeks say he's showing no ill effects in non-contact drills—pivoting and showing burst, elevating off of one foot and two.

He has plenty going for him his second time around. He was in peak physical condition when he went down, which he has said allowed his recovery to begin earlier. Age is on his side. And he has the resilience of a damn CAA intern. Look at what Parker told Sports Illustrated in a video posted online Thursday:

I see beauty in my scars. They tell my story. And when I'm able to uplift myself from those positions, I'm always going to backtrack and remind myself the grit, the pain, the disappointment that it's gonna take to be successful one day.

What the Bucks will not say—the team did not make anyone available for this story—is how he has gotten up to speed this quickly.

Occam's razor would suggest the guidance of Suki Hobson, the team's director of strength and conditioning who also oversaw Parker's first ACL comeback. Originally from England, Hobson honed her craft in Australia, which is famous for producing some of the world's top sports scientists (including several who work for NBA teams today). She rehabbed fallen rugby players, footballers, and BMX riders before joining the Bucks' staff about six months after Parker's first ACL injury.

Hobson's knowledge of knee function, one trainer told me, is considered industry-leading. And Parker's training program seemed fun, an American Ninja Warrior–esque gauntlet of trampolines, balance beams, and monkey bars. Now it includes dunking. If nothing else, it's a promising indicator of the player Hobson is trying to rebuild, and of his place in the offense Milwaukee wants to restore.

The funny thing is, the knock on Jabari Parker coming out of college was that he wasn't particularly athletic. That was a misconception, partly a function of context—he was picked immediately after YouTube demigod Andrew Wiggins—and also the result of a foot injury that sidelined him for much of his senior year of high school and limited him at Duke.

"We never got the 100 percent Jabari here," said Jeff Caple, a Duke assistant coach who remains close with Parker. "People forgot that he was this great athlete in high school [before] he hurt his foot." He came into the NBA at 19 years old, seemingly with baby fat still on his arms. His knee gave out only 25 games in.

It was not until Jabari 2.0, the goateed player coming off that first ACL tear in late 2015, that the NBA saw his tape-measure verticality, that Jamesian blend of power and agility. In handing the Golden State Warriors their first loss in a record-breaking 73-9 season, Parker poured in 19 points, showcasing the full package of transition scoring, off-ball creativity, and touch from the perimeter. Jabari 3.0, debuting in late February 2018, might somehow be even scarier.

2021 is a long way away, with everyone but Antetokounmpo and Maker up for new contracts between now and then. If the Bucks can't reach an extension with Parker before this season starts, he'll be a restricted free agent next summer. But teams with championship aspirations don't let great assets walk. He figures to be in Milwaukee for a few more playoff runs.

Time, luck, and science will tell how deep Parker can take them—how long he can last in the ring with Draymond Green, whether his lateral movement will ever fully return, what kind of player he will be. But Parker isn't feeling bad for himself. He'll be making up for lost time starting again in February.

"He has a way, man, which is weird, it's so different," Caple said. "He's had these two injuries. He was playing great and all of a sudden it happened. But right afterwards he's reassuring you—you're heartbroken and all those things, and he's the one picking you up. He's strong, he's resilient, and he came back better and more explosive. I think you're going to see the same thing from this injury."

Bouncing back from a second torn ACL on a 12-month timeline wouldn't be normal. A full recovery sustained through his athletic prime might be even more improbable. But maybe that makes it Parker's most likely outcome.

"I mean, he's a freak," Caple added with a chuckle. "Some guys are like that."

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[flauntpage]

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks

Giannis Antetokounmpo's transformation from gangly neophyte into menacing prophet has been stunning not just for its pace but also for its smoothness. His is the rare story of tantalizing potential fully redeemed, and then some. He has increased his production in all five major statistical categories each of his four seasons in the league, and he's just 22. He'll tell us when he's done.

What the 6'11" matchup catastrophe can already do—defend from the perimeter to the rim, gyro-step across continents, dunk everything in sight—sets up the Milwaukee Bucks to contend for years to come. But even Antetokounmpo, Destroyer of Worlds will need help to take down the Golden State Warriors. By 2021, a fully formed Thon Maker, a somehow wilier Malcolm Brogdon, and Khris Middleton playing baseline jazz will be enough to make it a series.

Whether the Bucks can win that series depends on the team's other 22-year-old star forward, Jabari Parker. The injuries that have so far derailed Parker's career put the linearity of Antetokounmpo's ascent in stark relief. An athletic marvel in his own right, Parker had as much offensive polish coming out of college as any player drafted this decade. Stretching his bruising game to the three-point line last season, the former Duke Blue Devil emerged as the ideal counterpunch to Antetokounmpo. Together, they made half-court sets a paint-stripping cyclone of drives, dives, and back-cuts.

But for the second time in three years, Parker's season ended prematurely with a torn left ACL. The short list of NBA players who have sustained this knee injury twice does not offer an especially promising outlook for Parker's recovery. Michael Redd was a shell of himself after a 14-month absence. Baron Davis never made it back. Tony Wroten fails to register.

Parker's second ACL tear. Photo by Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

And yet, everyone who knows Jabari Parker thinks his story will end differently. "Jabari believes he's supposed to be special," said Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski. "And he's willing to pay the price to be special. Road blocks like this, which are supposed to be big ones, are not going to deter him reaching that destination."

Parker has more than an army of believers supporting him in his recovery. He also has the steady march of science at his back, and one of the best ACL rehabbers in the world in his corner. And he's still just 22.

When an NBA player tears an anterior cruciate ligament, he usually hears a pop. It's the sound of his femur and tibia separating from each other as the rope connecting them frays and the cartilage surrounding the joint cuts loose. The surgery requires about a year's worth of rehab.

Why injuries of the anterior cruciate ligament have been on the rise over the past decade is anyone's guess. "It's the Nobel Prize–winning question," said Dr. David Altchek, who performed Parker's first ACL surgery. The sheer force being applied to knee joints by increasingly explosive athletes could be one liability; looking at the NBA specifically, Dr. Altchek blames the Eurostep.

The operation is fairly standard. The surgeon takes a graft, usually of the patellar tendon, and uses it to build a new ACL. If the new ACL fails—as Parker's did—a second graft will be taken for the revision, usually from the opposite knee, but the success rate of an ACL revision surgery is lower—about 75 percent, according to Dr. Robert LaPrade, who performed Parker's second surgery. "The biology of the whole healing response is not as precise," Altchek said.

That would seem to spell trouble for a player of Parker's intensity, and it does—no medical professional would deny the vulnerability of his left knee henceforth. But an avalanche of research and innovation in ACL injury prevention and recovery could swing his future.

One study, funded by Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, investigates the effectiveness of HGH in rehabilitating the injury. Another explores the insertion of a synthetic brace around the ligament. Stem-cell injections and platelet-rich plasma treatments are already being performed in the United States to accelerate healing; though their effectiveness has not been empirically proven, it's not hard to imagine something along those lines becoming standard practice down the road.

Meanwhile, Parker has been seen dunking. He's only seven months removed from his surgery, and five months away from his slated return, but Parker's second comeback is already looking a lot like his first. Reporters who have seen him practicing the past few weeks say he's showing no ill effects in non-contact drills—pivoting and showing burst, elevating off of one foot and two.

He has plenty going for him his second time around. He was in peak physical condition when he went down, which he has said allowed his recovery to begin earlier. Age is on his side. And he has the resilience of a damn CAA intern. Look at what Parker told Sports Illustrated in a video posted online Thursday:

I see beauty in my scars. They tell my story. And when I'm able to uplift myself from those positions, I'm always going to backtrack and remind myself the grit, the pain, the disappointment that it's gonna take to be successful one day.

What the Bucks will not say—the team did not make anyone available for this story—is how he has gotten up to speed this quickly.

Occam's razor would suggest the guidance of Suki Hobson, the team's director of strength and conditioning who also oversaw Parker's first ACL comeback. Originally from England, Hobson honed her craft in Australia, which is famous for producing some of the world's top sports scientists (including several who work for NBA teams today). She rehabbed fallen rugby players, footballers, and BMX riders before joining the Bucks' staff about six months after Parker's first ACL injury.

Hobson's knowledge of knee function, one trainer told me, is considered industry-leading. And Parker's training program seemed fun, an American Ninja Warrior–esque gauntlet of trampolines, balance beams, and monkey bars. Now it includes dunking. If nothing else, it's a promising indicator of the player Hobson is trying to rebuild, and of his place in the offense Milwaukee wants to restore.

The funny thing is, the knock on Jabari Parker coming out of college was that he wasn't particularly athletic. That was a misconception, partly a function of context—he was picked immediately after YouTube demigod Andrew Wiggins—and also the result of a foot injury that sidelined him for much of his senior year of high school and limited him at Duke.

"We never got the 100 percent Jabari here," said Jeff Caple, a Duke assistant coach who remains close with Parker. "People forgot that he was this great athlete in high school [before] he hurt his foot." He came into the NBA at 19 years old, seemingly with baby fat still on his arms. His knee gave out only 25 games in.

It was not until Jabari 2.0, the goateed player coming off that first ACL tear in late 2015, that the NBA saw his tape-measure verticality, that Jamesian blend of power and agility. In handing the Golden State Warriors their first loss in a record-breaking 73-9 season, Parker poured in 19 points, showcasing the full package of transition scoring, off-ball creativity, and touch from the perimeter. Jabari 3.0, debuting in late February 2018, might somehow be even scarier.

2021 is a long way away, with everyone but Antetokounmpo and Maker up for new contracts between now and then. If the Bucks can't reach an extension with Parker before this season starts, he'll be a restricted free agent next summer. But teams with championship aspirations don't let great assets walk. He figures to be in Milwaukee for a few more playoff runs.

Time, luck, and science will tell how deep Parker can take them—how long he can last in the ring with Draymond Green, whether his lateral movement will ever fully return, what kind of player he will be. But Parker isn't feeling bad for himself. He'll be making up for lost time starting again in February.

"He has a way, man, which is weird, it's so different," Caple said. "He's had these two injuries. He was playing great and all of a sudden it happened. But right afterwards he's reassuring you—you're heartbroken and all those things, and he's the one picking you up. He's strong, he's resilient, and he came back better and more explosive. I think you're going to see the same thing from this injury."

Bouncing back from a second torn ACL on a 12-month timeline wouldn't be normal. A full recovery sustained through his athletic prime might be even more improbable. But maybe that makes it Parker's most likely outcome.

"I mean, he's a freak," Caple added with a chuckle. "Some guys are like that."

Meet Your 2021 NBA Champions, the Milwaukee Bucks published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv