#why did I write this? I don’t know fucking sue me there are BUGS in my BRAIN

[archiebaldo1414]

Picture it with me people

Season 16. Opens with Dean realizing Heaven isn’t good. He’s having these memories of him and Cas through the years and is just like ‘if this was heaven he’d be here’ type shit you know

Supportive Sam and him break out and try to go rescue Sam from the empty. Dean is depressed as hell as always, but he has a purpose now so he’s compartmentalizing, but we continue to see memories. At first, they were all bro-like shit (as much as Destiel ever can be so still romantic lmao) but it starts transferring into stuff we’ve never seen before.

A night in the Dean Cave just them and they keep just looking at each other. [the audience can’t tell if it’s sweet or if they are getting second hand embarrassment since Dean’s fucking 40 and Cas is billions of years old]

A time where Cas heard about the kiss it better thing and fucking DID IT when he cut his hand or some shit. We begin to realize they might have been slightly more aware of things that we were led to believe.

There’s more chill domestic stuff but the kiss it better thing comes up once or twice more. Enough to show us that’s one of their weird little rituals that no one knows about; but ITS A THING!!!

Cas is saved. There’s hugging and intense eye contact. Sam is there. He gets a hug too and suddenly they are having trouble looking at each other. Dean is distraught. He’s fucked up about feelings, he can’t voice this shit! He tried in purgatory but Cas didn’t let him, but now, now he can’t. He keeps trying to talk to him; Cas is sure to remind him he is okay and knows Dean doesn’t feel a certain way.

He’s frustrated. Why is Cas making this so difficult?? How does he have no clue? Surely he’s aware how he acts with Cas is VERY different to how he acts with everyone else/how everyone else acts with him?

It comes to him suddenly when he bangs his hip on the counter. As he swears (loudly) a little voice in his head is saying ‘Cas needs to kiss it better’. And then he knows. Since he was rescued, they’re little rituals have gotten infrequent and awkward. Cas doesn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable after all! He knows now!

Dean runs. Bangs on Sam’s door. Sam opens it, it’s late, he’s annoyed. “What, Dean, why do you look so excited?” He’s doing his bitch face

“Sammy, punch me in the mouth” he prepares himself for the punch, he can hardly stop grinning. He’s practically vibrating with excitement, the freak.

“Dean? What? Why would I punch you?” Sam is perplexed. He’s concerned. He would love to punch Dean (lol)

“I need you to. It’s important, please, Sam”

Eileen hears them and comes to the door as well. Sam explains what’s going on while Dean looks at her and pleads to punch him. She clearly realizes something Sam doesn’t becuase she starts cackling before winding back and punching him. Hard. His lip splits, and he grins around slightly bloody teeth before waving goofily and turning to go while Sam throws up his hands in frustration because What! The! Fuck!

Anyways. Dean marches down the hall. He’s nervous. He knocks. Cas answers. He looks down at Dean’s fucked up bloody mouth and is like Dean! What happened! Who must I kill! And Dean’s like it’s all good man but 😔👉👈it hurts

Cas is all; let me heal you…and Dean’s like OKAY THAT’S FINE WITH ME HA HA

There’s a bit of staring while Cas tries to figure out what’s going on and he slowly raises two fingers before Dean slowly pushes his hand down. He doesn’t let go of the loose grip on his wrist. His hands are shaking a bit. Cas is feeling a little rejected, he can’t even heal Dean now? But Dean is so close, and he’s still holding his wrist? Why is he shaking a bit? What’s go- oh. Oh oh oh oh

Cas very tentatively leans forward and presses tiny little delicate to Deans mouth as he heals him and cdjrjgfjejficsjtjvisjtv

Anyways they kiss a lot yay the end

dean: ow, fuck. i cut my finger.

cas: here, let me kiss it better.

dean, blushing furiously: oh- uh- okay.

[later]

dean: sammy, i need you to punch me in the mouth.

sam, already winding up: done.

[goldeneyedgirl]

Sonya! (Imagine, for a moment, that Tumblr Staff actually fixed the bug that means I have to screenshot and tag you @sonyawix for replies.) I missed you!

Jasper's just there realising that a couple of decades of training and practice with the Cullens was no match for a tiny teenage girl who looks at him like he's the second coming. She did more for his self-esteem in one night than anyone has done for him since he was human.

Jasper's softer in STL and his trauma has already been sorted, organised, and filed in his mental storage unit so he just has to simp over worry about Mary-Alice. Mary-Alice has the trauma conga-line but it gets pretty soft for both of them starting next chapter.

But it's why Jasper chapters are usually easier to write.

And listen, we all switch hyperfixations. I read a whole bunch of MCU fics that had Correct Vibes but Incorrect Takes, and beautililies had to stop me from writing MCU fic before I worked on Jalice fics. Also the idea I am carrying 70% of your Jalice experience is fucking wild. What do you want? I feel like I need to give you something because 2024 was not my most active year ever.

My little Mabel has recovered from the infections she had well, but decided to keep things interesting and acquired an ear infection which has since been upgraded to a double ear infection because what's more fun than a lot of credit card debt? Even more credit card debt! She is why I can only stare longing at Coach bags and not own fun stuff like that.

And honestly, I join you in solidarity that my sister and father are also Shitty Fucking People. Sometimes, people are rancid, and we just need to salute their bullshit and carry on our merry way.

It is law that if you bring up Anathema, I post something. I picked this scene WIP because Alice being a dramatic teenage girl is somehow so funny in my head? I can't wait to get to a scene where she's dramatic in front of Jasper and he's just "...you're adorable, you know that right?" And she's like, "absolutely not."

But for now, Alice makes a small scene.

“This is to never get back to the Clearwaters,” I could hear Freddie saying to Charlie Swan in a low voice. “Any of them. I trust you, Charlie.”

Charlie sighed. “Fred, I’ve known you a long time, and I don’t like this at all. What is so important you have to meet with them alone, without Sue and Billy knowing?"

Silence, and I was tempted to creep up the hallway to be able to hear better.

“… This is about Alice and her well-being. If… I have reason to believe that if Sue, Harry, and Billy knew more about Alice’s … health and genetic make-up, they would be deeply unhappy."

That was most likely an understatement. I had a feeling that if Sue found out that I was biologically half-vampire, I would be persona-non-grata in the Clearwater household. There was a fifty-percent chance that Harry would hunt me for sport, honestly. His aim with a shotgun was second-to-none.

//

Dr Cullen had brought his wife, and there was something almost funny seeing them in our home - they were both dressed in very stiff, fancy clothing, standing in the entrance looking awkward. I was in the kitchen finishing the washing up in pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt; both Freddie and Charlie were still wearing work clothing.

The apartment was still mostly in the late 60s style from when it was built. Lots of brown and yellow. Freddie always intended to renovate, but we never seemed to get around to it - moving all the books would take us days, and we’d have to stay downstairs. It was cozy up here, and if we made any changes, it would be to clean out the third floor.

“Hello Alice.” Mrs Cullen smiled so warmly at me, but I felt oddly shy, offering a little wave as I put plates back into the cupboard.

“Turn on the coffee maker, love, before you go,” Freddie said, and I got the message that this wasn’t going to be a meeting I was included in. I wasn’t upset about that; somehow Dr and Mrs Cullen were far and away more intimidating than Jasper was. Somehow the golden eyes and the pale skin that looked so right on him made me nervous around them.

Thankfully, Dulcie was having dinner with her brother’s family tonight. It meant we could have this meeting at home and she’d probably bring home left-over dessert. Hopefully that really good blueberry donut thing that Mrs Stanley usually made for Dulcie’s birthday.

It also meant that whilst I had been told I wouldn’t be joining in on the meeting today, there was no one in the house that would check to make sure I was wearing headphones and watching movies on my laptop instead of eavesdropping for all I was worth. And in my defence, I had to know what Freddie was telling everyone so I didn’t mess up the story later on. It was just planning ahead.

//

“He can read minds?” I shrieked, giving myself away instantly.

Charlie Swan swore, sloshing his coffee in surprise, as the rest of them spun around to look at me in the hallway.

“Alice,” Freddie groaned but I didn’t care that I would be doing extra cleaning this week or whatever as punishment.

A girl’s mind is private. There are things happening up there that die with me, okay?

Things like me contemplating the logistics of having sex on a gurney now that I’d met Jasper and realised he was a foot and a half taller than me, and probably 100lb heavier.

Or the fact that whilst my visions hadn’t been instructional, so to speak, they had given me a certain amount of reference material to reflect on. I might never have been a Girl Scout, but I do like to be prepared.

And the idea that one of the Cullens could mind-read and had probably told the entire family that a good fifty-percent of my brain power was solely dedicated to what I had seen of Jasper’s body in my vision at any time was… not ideal. Not at all how I planned to integrate myself into their lives. I was aiming for lovable future daughter-in-law, not mouth-breathing creeper.

“Edward considers the contents of everyone’s mind private, unless harm would result in keeping it secret,” Mrs Cullen quickly reassured me. Please. I had seen Leah and Seth together; I knew what siblings were like. There was no way in hell that Jasper hadn't been informed that I had absolutely noticed he was ripped when he helped me up.

“I’m taking a lot of emotional damage learning this,” I said slightly hysterically. “Can he hear everything?”

“Only when he’s present.” Was Dr Cullen laughing at me? He looked amused.

“Alice,” Freddie sounded tired. “There are brownies in the downstairs freezer if you want some dessert.”

Huh. It was bad if Freddie was bribing me with the catering supplies.

“That would help,” I said, trying to walk through the kitchen to get a knife with some kind of dignity. “You understand why I would be uncomfortable with a teenage boy reading my mind, right?”

“I think we’re all on the same page about that,” Charlie said. He didn’t look amused.

"Alice, I really don't think there's anything in your head that Edward Cullen would worry about," Freddie said, obviously trying to sound comforting and mostly made me want to slam my head against a wall.

"I've had unmonitored access to the internet since I was eleven and no boyfriend! Or girlfriend! There's plenty up there I don't want Jasper's brother knowing!" I snatched up the cake knife and looked over to see Freddie looking like he needed a drink, Charlie Swan looking the most uncomfortable I had ever seen him - and that included the ass-injury incident - and Mrs Cullen trying very unsuccessfully not to laugh at me.

"And now I've made it worse. I'm calling Cynthia!"

It's not the fact that my father was a vampire that makes me a freak. I manage to do that all by myself.

[krastbannert]

I'm back.

(2) Cute Waiter with Taang

Always love having you back for more, Comfy.😏

I really need to write more Taang. This was a lot of fun. I actually kinda want to write the continuation of this.

Just for reference, the restaurant Toph mentions, "Ping's Cuisine", is supposed to be the one Zuko and Jin went to. It doesn't have a name, so I gave it one. Sue me.

@atla-multishipping-bingo

Modern AU Bingo B3 - Cute Waiter

Aang can’t help himself. He doesn’t mean to stare, he really doesn’t, but he just…he can’t keep his eyes off her. He keeps watching the way she moves, weaving between tables and barstools and people like it was nothing. She’s solid on the ground, though, both feet - bare feet, he noticed, which is…odd - planted firmly on the stone floor.

(That was another odd thing, he thinks. Stone floors. He hasn’t seen stone floors in…a long time. Since he was a kid, really, long before he’d moved to Ba Sing Se.

No one had them anymore, hadn’t in a long time, but this bar…it was strange. He liked it, though. It was different.)

He watches as she takes another order, and she smirks, chuckling at someone’s joke. That smirk…he couldn’t stop staring at it. It’s cute, and for some reason he wants to see it as much as he can. And her eyes, brilliant green but somehow glazed over - she’s blind, he’s fairly sure, which leaves him more mystified.

How did she do it?

(She looks familiar, too. He’s not sure why, but she…he feels like he’s seen her before, somewhere, but at the same time he’s absolutely sure he’s never met her.)

“Aang, buddy, you’re gonna start drooling if you stare any longer.” Sokka’s voice breaks him from his trance, and he shakes his head.

“What? No, no I wasn’t staring!” He tries - it doesn’t work. Zuko and Sokka look at each other, and a knowing grin tugs at the corners of their lips.

“Go ask her out already,” Zuko rasps.” You’ve been staring at her the entire time we’ve been here.”

“No! That would be creepy!” he stammers, the blood rushing to his face. It’s not like it was his fault she was gorgeous! And funny, too - it might have been his imagination, but she seemed to keep coming by their table, with some joke or something funny to say, always addressing him.

It bugs him, not because he doesn’t like it, but because he wants to know, for sure, if it’s just his imagination, or if she really is coming over to his table repeatedly.

“Who’s asking who out?”

Oh, fuck.

She’s right behind him.

Sokka bursts out laughing as Aang’s cheeks heat up - he looks like a tomato right now, he’s sure. He sighs, hides his face in his hands.

(Wait, she’s blind, he’s being stupid.)

“What’s wrong? Crocokitten got your tongue!” She smirks, and damn he can’t stop staring at her, at the little twinkle in her eye and the tilt of her lips.” Or just see something you like?”

Fuck, he’s gone.

“Uh-uh nope! Nothing!” he says before he thinks, and he immediately slams his palm into his face. He pointedly ignores the sputtering laughter of his friends at their table.” Wait, no, I didn’t mean that!”

The waitress - Toph, he remembers her introducing herself as - just laughs. It’s bright, cheerful…and a little sly, too.” Don’t worry, Twinkletoes. I know what you meant.”

“You, uh…you did?” he asks.

“Sure,” she says. Toph leans over, resting her hands on the table.” Tell you what. You know where Ping’s Cuisine is? Meet me there at 7 o’clock tomorrow, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

He stares at her for a brief moment, stunned, before he shakes his head, smiles.” Ping’s at 7. I’ll be there. Can I, uh, have your number?”

She doesn’t say a word, just grins and holds out a napkin, and his heart skips a beat. Scrawled on it is a phone number, and her name. Toph Bei Fong.

Did she…make this? Just for him?

“Alright, Twinkletoes, I gotta get back to work, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” She leaves it almost as more of a question, like she’s hopeful, too.

“Definitely,” he smiles up at her, his heart thudding hard in his chest, and he can’t help but smile as she walks away, her hips swaying in time to the beat of the bar’s music.

“Did…did you just get a date?” Sokka asks slowly.

“Just like that?” Zuko adds.

“...yeah,” Aang smiles, still staring down at the napkin. He already knew he liked her - now, though, he’s practically enthralled.” Yeah, I think I did.”

[spectral-kitkat]

Miraculous Rant.

Where the hell do I begin…

Season 1:

The show was decent in season 1. Some episodes were just mindless filler and probably weren’t needed in the grand scheme of things but they helped us get introduced to the characters, we got to know the plot and the world our characters inhabit. It was good. The love story between Adrien and Marinette was cute and off to a touching and fluffy start.

Season 2:

This season was immediately better than season 1. It had character development, it went more into detail about the lore surrounding the Miraculous and we got to learn more about our characters and their families and the villian’s motives. (HM really went from “I wanna destroy the world” to “I wanna wake my wife from the coma she’s in”).

We got to see new heroes which was fun! We got new characters like Luka and Kagami.

The season finale was epic! The Miraculous team all taking down all the previous villains in the show was awesome. At the end we even got Mari kissing Adrien on the cheek. It was great! (Even though it clearly reset itself in season 3 cause it’s never mentioned again)

I really enjoyed season 2 and it’s probably my favourite out of the 4.

Season 3:

Season 3 was kinda good and kinda bad. We had some great episodes but this is where the show took the wrong turn.

Marinette lost some of her character in season 3. This was the start of her descent into being the Queen of Mary Sues. It’s also where she was crowned the Queen of Stalkers! Her character took a fucking nose dive in this season. We had so many moments that just creeped me the fuck out.

1. The ENTIRETY of Puppeteer 2 🤢🤢🤢 I could not stand that episode. When we reached the dreaded statue scene I physically had to pause it like 10 times. That scene takes about 3 minutes to watch… it took me about 20. I cringed so fucking hard because of the secondhand embarrassment I was feeling. That was not sweet, it wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t the least bit cute… it was a train wreck! It was creepy and stalkerish and it’s a wonder Adrien even spoke to her again after that atrocity!

2. LB delivering the present in Chat Blanc. Two words: STALKER BEHAVIOUR!!! I genuinely could not believe my eyes when I saw LB run her hand across everything in his room and then actually SNIFF Adrien’s pillow. Like WTF!!! 🤮 I’m pretty sure whoever was responsible for that scene clearly thought it was the equivalent of when someone gets their S/O’s jumper or something and it still smells like them. But this turned it up to the nth degree and way passed the line of sanity.

Adrien was extremely under-utilised in this season. He didn’t really do anything. The only episodes we got about him didn’t really focus on him. ‘Felix’ whilst focusing on Adrien’s family didn’t really feature him. ‘Party Crasher’ while a beautiful mess was more about Mari trying to get into the party than the party itself. ‘Chat Blanc’ again focused more on Mari trying to fix her mistake.

We got even more heroes in season 3, not in the right order but they were there. It was fun seeing everyone’s transformations.

Season 3 was also the season of destroying redemptions. The big one obviously being Chloe. Season 2 was setting up this amazing redemption for her and before it could go anywhere it was wiped off the face of the earth during the finale (and don’t worry we’ll get to that dumpster fire later). Gabriel also had any remaining sympathy ripped away from him. How did the guy who stopped Gorizilla from letting Adrien die when he only thought he was CN go from that to using his son like fucking baseball in Chat Blanc when he knew his son was CN. Like I knew you were a shit father but you still cared about Adrien in some way shape or form but after that episode I can see I was clearly mistaken!

Before we get to the finale I want to talk about probably my 2 least favourite episodes from this season: Desperada and Reflekdoll

Desperada:

I fucking hated this episode! The only good thing was Luka getting to be Viperion, other than that this episode was awful!

Marinette was a selfish cringey bitch. Completely ignoring Luka to gush about Adrien to Jagged. Brushing Luka off as soon as Adrien turns up. Immediately cuddling up to Aspik and flirting with him when she needed to focus on the akuma (something which she has told CN not to do many times before)

Adrien, I love you kid but Jesus Christ you were a dumbass in this episode! Aspik’s design was terrible! Aspik himself was awful. I know Adrien tried his best but dude you were given the Black Cat miraculous for a reason! He shouldn’t have tried to be Aspik but even when he did he should’ve called it quits after like 5 resets not 25,913 times.

The only person with a brain this episode was Luka. So well done guitar boy, gold star!

Reflekdoll:

This episode was annoying! It was basically the start of the Marinette can do no wrong streak! When they have to swap miraculous I was happy cause it meant we got to see new outfits and see how they each handle the different powers. It would also serve as a way to get LB and CN to see what their partners role is first hand. Until we actually get to it…

LadyNoire is of course amazing and needs no introduction to using this new miraculous that she’s never used before. She’s cocky and confident and basically just LB in Chat’s costume with his powers.

Mister Bug on the other hand is just useless. He struggles with this new miraculous (like anyone would!) and is stupid and goofy. He has to rely on LadyNoire to solve the lucky charm. They swapped miraculous so shouldn’t that mean that Mister Bug should get the lucky vision and the creative powers that the earrings give him.

Overall Reflekdoll is awful. It was shitty writing and the start of Adrien getting the short end of the stick.

And now the season 3 finale… Just what the fuck. That is my only reaction: what the fuck!

Chloe you poor fucking child! What did they do to you!!! So much potential SQUANDERED!!!!

What was the point in bringing in all these different superheros with unique skill sets, costumes and transformations if you were just going to immediately reveal them to the main villian so they can’t be used again. That’s stupid! If you wanted the shock value that is “Oh no HM knows some of the heroes identities!” Then keep it as only some. Have like Max, Kim and Kagami outside trying to find somewhere to hide but unfortunately they get hit. Or Nino and Alya are hiding but the windows open and they get hit. Have some of the heroes hide so they’re fine! Taking away every ally of LB and CN’s was a stupid move! (Even if they wanted Alya to become a spy have her as part of the like 4 that get revealed or something, it’s not that difficult)

Season 3 was 50/50 for me

Season 4:

So I know season 4 isn’t even halfway through yet but so much is wrong with this season already that I need to vent!

So my biggest problem with this season of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybitch and Rena Rouge, I mean Rena Furtive… shit, Chat Noir! Is that CN is basically pointless! Adrien has been flung over a rainbow and is only remembered when he’s needed as

1. Marinette’s love interest

2. Someone for LB to shout at

3. A plot device

He has basically been sidelined. Partners my ASS!!!

Adrien is being blown off by pretty much EVERYONE! It’s coming to a point where this poor sweet summer child is going to crack! And it is not gonna be pretty… I definitely feel like the writers are leading up to a big fight between CN and LB which will probably end with Chat Blanc 2.0.

I REALLY HATE MARINETTE/LADYBUG!!!! In Season 3 I said it was the beginning of her descent, well in season 4 she’s done it. She’s descended, she has hit rock fucking bottom. She is so unlikable I don’t actually care about her as a person. She has entered full blown stalker territory it’s only a matter of time before she starts killing people for even looking at Adrien! Not to mention that Miss Mary Sue here can’t do anything wrong! She never has to suffer the consequences of her actions, she is always perfect no matter what she does… it pisses me off!)

She’s the Guardian now big whoop. I know what it feels like to be stressed and under pressure so I do understand why she needed to tell someone about it all. I just don’t see why that person had to Alya! Especially considering she has someone by her side every akuma attack going through pretty much the exact same thing. I know she’s worried about CB happening again but as I said before the more she leaves him out the more she is actually pushing that to become a possibility! Plus it makes sense for them to reveal their identities now since LB is now the guardian it’s probably a good idea to know who holds the cat miraculous, she knows everyone else’s identities!

Even if she didn’t want to tell CN her identity she could still explain the situation to him. If she didn’t want to tell him anything (which she doesn’t anyway) then instead of Alya she should’ve talked to Luka! Her boyfriend for all of half an episode (thanks writers…). He’s so sweet and caring and clearly loves her so much! If she wanted someone to confide in then why not choose the person you clearly wanted to date but couldn’t because of that very reason! (Yeah I know it’s kinda a moot point now since Luka knows both identities but still). He wanted to try and comfort her so it would’ve been the perfect moment for it. That way you could still date him and he’d know why you had to suddenly leave dates halfway through! But no break the boys heart instead!

Adrien and Marinette were both such fucking idiots in the first 2 episodes. Like why would you start a relationship with someone when you know your heart isn’t in it! That’s called leading someone on and is a really shitty thing to do to someone! No wonder Kagami and Luka ended up akumatized!

Another aspect of season 4 I don’t like is Rena Furtive. Yes ok having a spy for your side is a good strategy but when said spy basically tells an important member of a duo that the 2 person job doesn’t involve them… it just really ticks me off! Alya you are the sidekick to LB and CN! Chat isn’t!

Miraculous specials:

The Miraculous World specials suck! Shanghai is better than NY but still has its problems. Both specials add nothing to the overall plot/lore of the show apart from trying to set up some weird cinematic universe…

NY special:

One of the worst things I’ve ever had to sit through! The plane scene alone I paused a few times. I want to say well done to Mari for trying to move on from Adrien (especially considering I’m pretty sure she’s dating Luka at this point) but I can’t help but think it’s just to give her character some pointless development that goes nowhere and doesn’t actually develop anything!

LB can pretty much fuck off at this point! I hate her! She put all this shit on CN (like she doesn’t know exactly how that feels). It’s like why does she get to go off on holiday but CN can’t. LB should’ve stayed in Paris for 3 reasons:

1. She’s recently become the guardian meaning it would probably be best that she stayed with the Mircle Box

2. She’s the only one who can purity the akumas

3. If she’s so sure about being the boss then she should take responsibility of Paris and the citizens.

What really pisses me off about her is what she says to CN during the big fight. “I can’t trust you”… surely you could have this conversation afterwards since you’re supposed to be focusing on taking down the villian! Plus everyone bashes Adrien for giving his miraculous up in this episode but look at it from his point of view: His partner and best friend just said she couldn’t trust him which in turn caused him to cataclysm someone and essentially kill them. That’s gonna take a toll on anyone, especially a 14 year old! He probably thought in that moment. “Ladybug needs a partner she can trust and someone who won’t mess up and kill someone. She needs a better partner.” It makes sense he renounces his miraculous! I’m just upset that in doing so he loses Plagg who is pretty much his only friend who actually understands what Adrien goes through at home.

When Uncanny gets CN to come back, LB acts like it’s not her fault in the first place that he feels inadequate! She didn’t even apologise for saying what she did! He apologised for lying about not being in Paris but nope LB wasn’t in the wrong at all and didn’t have anything to apologise for 🙄… (yes the LadyNoir hug was amazing but I just wish it was under different circumstances!)

Also are we not gonna mention Gabriel Agreste almost starting WW3??? He wanted to launch a fucking missile!!!

Shanghai:

As I said before, this special is way better for several reasons.

We got MariChat! (Best side to the love square imo). This special actually had some semblance on a plot. Fei, whilst a bit op, was a cool character. It was nice to see Wang Cheng again.

However once again there were many problems.

A big one being Marinette yet again! (What a shock! 😒 I’ll come back to this). Another was that once again HM’s motivation has changed. How is getting the Prodigious gonna help bring back Emilie??

Back to Marinette… The fact that the words “Huh?! There must be some kind of mistake! I always know what's up with Adrien! … His 5 first names and every corresponding name date, his yearly schedule, even his shoe size! If there were anything to know about him, I would know it!” come out of her mouth whilst she is flipping through his schedule that she keeps in her pocketbook is a hugh red flag!!! That is not cute or adorable! That’s messed up and Adrien needs to fucking run and maybe possibly go into witness protection… Marinette is a full blown stalker! Not to mention the GPS she has (that could just be the find my friends app on iphone but still).

It also is extremely rude of her to use not only her great uncle’s birthday but also a lie about wanting to know her Chinese heritage in order to go to Shanghai to stalk her obsession, I mean crush. This could’ve been avoided if the Dupain-Chengs were going to Shanghai for the purpose of celebrating Wang Cheng’s bday and then Adrien just so happened to be in Shanghai.

Also this means LB left Paris without telling CN! I know CN did the same but again he can’t purify the akumas. Plus he has a reason he couldn’t stay in Paris, Mari just went cause her crush did. Great guardianship there Marinette.

This was also the last time CN actually did something. Even if it was for a short while before LB and her female partner took over (the beginning of a theme…)

Other things:

There are 2 other things that I wanna say but felt they needed a separate bit.

In Furious Fu, Su-Han has a rule book that he uses to tell Marinette which rules she has broken. At the end of the episode he tells her that is she breaks 1 more rule that he will take the Miraculous and the Miracle Box off her, which fair enough but wouldn’t it be helpful to leave the rule book with her?! How can she be wary of not breaking anymore rules when she doesn’t even know what the rules are??

Now the big one: Master Fu…

Where do I even start with him. He is so fucking manipulative!! He is Asian Dumbledore!

He decides to leave these extremely powerful jewels in the hands of 13 year olds! Surely leaving the miraculous to someone in their 20s would’ve been better!

He clearly favours LB over CN even though the Ladybug and Black Cat are supposed to be partners! Wouldn’t it make sense for them both to be in contact with the guardian from the start?? He randomly started introducing rules such as if LB and CN find out each other’s identities they would lose their miraculous… what kind of bullshit rule is that? It also came out of fucking nowhere!

Final Thoughts:

But to summarise all of that: Miraculous is on quite a steep decline but I’m invested at this point and I am genuinely curious as to where the fuck this will go.

Marinette needs professional fucking help before the writers even consider canonising Adrienette cause at the moment she is not what Adrien needs!

Adrien needs to stand up for himself! He needs to pull LB to the side and tell her what he feels and what he’s going through cause he is on the precipice of a breakdown!

(Small point that’s more to do with the fandom: when searching for fanfics it’s really annoying that Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir Bashing is a tag but Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug Bashing isn’t. Why does everyone think Marinette can do no wrong???)

[jadedxrealityw]

-Rivals- Hermione Granger x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody: I’m using the owls grading system for the story so if that’s not right, sue me i guess idk. 

    Movie/Show: Harry Potter, ignoring the storyline

    House/Year: Ravenclaw / 7th year

    Request:  Can I request a bold ravenclaw reader (her attitude almost could pass as a slytherin ngl) she's been Hermione's rival when it comes to grades and they DON'T get along very well. Reader is the opposite of mione's reserved personality. But rivals don't kiss and make out with each other secretly in the lavatory 😭 pls enemies to lovers (with some tension;) ykyk and then one day, they walk the great hall hand in hand and everyone is like don't they find each other insufferable?

    Possible Triggers/Warnings: if you don’t like lesbians get the hell off my page, sexual tension, enemies to lovers trope, cursing

    ☼-☪-☼

    love came unexpectedly at times, you learned that at young age from fairy tales and such. Well all kids did, but kids eventually grew up and came to the realization that fairy tales were exactly what they were, fairy tales. Fiction. Not real. 

    people could call you cold hearted or rude, but you would describe yourself as blunt or brutally honest. Never afraid to speak your mind or point out injustice when you saw fit. To put it simpler terms, professors at Hogwarts preferred you didn’t speak at times. 

    “Your too outspoken Ms. L/n” 

    “Stick to your academics Ms. L/n”

    “You wouldn’t be in detention so much so if kept your mouth shut Ms. L/n”

    merlin, you were exhausted of hearing your own last name. You guessed the only reason you weren’t reprimanded as worse as the Weasley Twins was because you were one of Hogwarts brightest witches, always excelled in academics, in every subject. 

    you couldn’t explain it to others even if you tried other then it just came naturally. Your parents, when they were attended Hogwarts were both just as naturally skilled in there studies as you were. So you must have inherited there ‘big brain’ as your mother said many times before.

    you were never one to gloat though, it was never your style. You were more humble about what you could accomplish. That was until she got involved. That egoistical, hypocritical, Gryffindor girl. Hermione Granger became the bane of your existence early into your fifth year. 

   until then Ms. Granger had been the top of all her classes, no one even came close to her intelligence, naming her ‘The Brightest Witch At Hogwarts’ and Hermione wore that title with pride. Being a Muggle born put a target on her head as well as stereotypes.

    most students and some staff almost immediately came to the conclusion she wasn’t capable of achieving goals that regular half or pure bloods could. It was a terrible way to think, but it was unfortunately the reality of being involved with the wizarding world. 

   Hermione was lucky to have friends like she did that cared about her no matter who she was or what she became, but it didn’t stop her need to feel validated in her academics. It was the one thing no one could giver her shit for, because she was the best at it and no one else was. 

   until that fateful fifth year that was mentioned earlier. It was the time when you finally got your mind and heart into your studie. You blew past most of the student body rather quickly, earning the title of the fastest turn around at Hogwarts.

    it was nice

    then it wasn’t, for Hermione of course 

    ☼-☪-☼

    fifth year / past

    “It seems we have two students with an Outstanding this time around” Professor Flitwick spoke as the exams from the previous week had landed neatly onto the wooden desk in front of you. “congratulations Ms. Granger and Ms. L/n”

    Hermione’s head perked up like a cat who had heard a bag of hard food shake from the nest room over, eager. She had never heard that name before, it didn’t come as much as an surprise though considering how big Hogwarts was. She leant to the left where Harry Potter sat. 

    “Who’s L/n? Do you know her?” she asked, casually though Harry knew her better then most. He gave her a half hearted shrug “No clue, try Ron” he suggests. Hermione nods once before leaning over to the right, where the Weasley sat, scowling at his exam. 

    “Mum’s going to kill me” he muttered, bringing no reaction to Granger’s face. He never studied. “Ron, do you know who this L/n is?” she repeated the question she gave to Harry. Ron turns his head away from the parchment and to Hermione. 

   his brows furrowed as he searches the corners of his mind for where he had heard the name from, until the visible light bulb popped over his head- well not so visible actually. “Oh um- Y/n L/n. she’s a Ravenclaw, her parents are certified geniuses. They work at the ministry. Department of magical education”

   his words did not soothe the wracking thought in the young Granger’s mind. “Certified geniuses?” Hermione echos. “If that’s so how come she’s only getting Outstandings now? she must have cheated somehow” she thought aloud. 

    “I surely didn’t cheat”

   like an owl Hermione’s head turned over her shoulder, her two Gryffindor pals doing the same. In her sight was a girl, her age, in a Ravenclaw robe. She had S/C skin with H/L H/C hair and E/C eyes that were staring back at her. Hermione was almost stunned into silence- keyword being almost. 

    “the explain the good grade all of the sudden, L/n?”

   you looked rather confused. You had never met the girl and she was accusing you of cheating because you had never gotten an Outstanding before? Was this a prank of some sort or fever dream? “I studied for once. You have no right accusing me, i don’t even know you that well”

    Harry placed a hand upon Hermione’s shoulder, signaling for her to stop before she caused a scene. Looking back, she should have listened “No right? I have a right to point out people who are just trying to cheat their way through school while people like us actually care about our grades”

    what the Gryffindor girl wasn’t expecting was for you to start laughing. Her friend, Cho Chang joining in, finding it just as equally hilarious. Hermione’s face turned just as bright as Ron’s hair. “What is so funny?” you and Cho slowly come to a stop, breathing in and out. 

    “what’s funny is that your ego is so incredibly large, so much so that it can’t comprehend that someone, not a Gryffindor either was able to match your intelligence. Now shove off ” you said it all with a grin on your face, because you certainly knew you were right. 

    and from that day, you both despised each other

    ☼-☪-☼

    seventh year / present

    and with every exam, every questioned called on by a teacher, you fastly became Hermione’s rival. It was a term Cho used, but you didn’t really see it that way since you weren’t competing with her. You never studied harder to make sure you got the same grade, never tried to sabotage her in any way. 

    you didn’t care much about it actually

    but you did quite enjoy her face, the way her nostrils flared up an her cheeks turned a bright red in anger. It was cute seeing her so mad. Sending er a wink or sly grin when she glared at you became a daily routine as well. When at first you ignored her you now loved annoying her.

    never having to say a word was probably your favorite part. 

    that’s probably when feelings began to mix into it, but you either didn’t notice or refuse to acknowledge them at all. You genuinely thought you hated this girl, so why in the world would you ever think you liked her? Makes sense, right? Were not even going to mention the questioning your sexuality.

    “Sit still while i pass out your exams from yesterday. Once you recieve your paper you may get up and leave” 

    “You think if Snape got laid he wouldn’t be such a prick?” the Slytherin boy spoke, leaning towards you. turning your head ever so slightly, you lock eyes with Draco “Why are you even sitting here?” you whisper back, giving him a mock astonished look.

   he rolls his grey eyes, shrugging his shoulders “You never talk to me outside of class anymore” he grumbles. Is he- Is this- What is happening? “That’s because your a little shit and pushed Neville in the hallway yesterday” yeh, you caught his dumbass. 

    Draco’s eyes widen a bit, not knowing you had been in the hallway during the crime. “You saw that?- what are you his protector?” he says, clearly as an insult, but oh little did he know that you were indeed exactly what he just said and would say it with pride.

    “Yes-”

    “Ms. L/n, Outstanding as usual as well Mr. Malfoy. Good work, the both of you” Snape places the exams in front of each of you, but you were both to busy staring in shock. This bitter, old, mean, crude man just compliment you. Merlin, you had finally gotten fathers approval

    (what in the fuck am i writing)

    “Is this heaven?” Draco questioned, staring bug eyed forward. 

    “No”

    “How do you know?”

    “Cormac is here”

    “Yeah your right, feelings over” both you and Draco sighed, turning to look at each other before laughing quietly. He was a pretty chill dude sometimes. “What!?” the loud screech filled your ears. All heads turned behind you, so you followed that and saw the one and only Hermione Granger. 

    she was huffing and puffing. You feared for the stick and straw houses in the world for a moment. Harry quickly stood up and pushed her shoulders down, forcing her back into her seat “I've never gotten an Exceeds Expectations before” Hermione sputters out. 

    she

    got

    what

    now?

    oh this was rich, absolutely hilarious, so much so that Draco had already began to laugh. “Poor Granger, guess you really aren’t the brightest witch” he taunted. Hermione looked up, glaring daggers at the Slytherin. Merlin, he had such a big mouth.

    then her brown eyes strayed to you, but you only pursed your lips together, providing her no emotion to work off of. In a haste, she collected her things, leaving the cursed exam on the table nd rushing out the door, both Ron and Harry calling out for her. 

    fuck

    standing up, you grab your bag and look down at Draco. His laughter comes to an end and he looks up at you “What?” he asked. You copied his dementor singers from third year, making him look at your hands. You took that time to reach down and flick his forehead. 

    he pulls away, his palm rubbing his head in circles “Bloody hell, what was that for?!” he exclaimed. What an idiot. “This is why we don’t hang out” you deadpan before finally going to exit the classroom, leaving a grumbling, mumbling Draco. Something about you being  ‘mean friend’

    ☼-☪-☼

    only having ten minutes until Charms class you began to search the halls. Merlin where had she run off too? The school wasn’t THAT big- okay maybe it was. You had almost called quits, making a mental note to check up on her during lunch when you passed the restroom.

    sniffling and crys were heard. You’ll admit, it kind off hurt to hear. Taking a few steps backwards, you use the palm off your hand to slowly push the door open so it wouldn’t creak like the old shit it was. When it was open just enough for you to fit through, you slip in. 

    gazing around, you see Hermione bent over the sink, sobbing. You could hear her voice becoming rougher by the second as she destroyed her vocal cords. “Granger?” you say, staying a few feet behind her. Hermione looks up in the mirror, spotting you behind her. 

    her distraught expression quickly shifted to anger “You” she seethed. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion “Me?” you say back, crossing your arms. “Leave me the hell alone L/n!” she shouts, angry tears flooding down her cheeks. Raising your hands, you offer your surrender.

    “Shit, sorry. I was just trying to see if you were okay” you admit. Hermione turns on her heels, facing you directly this time before speaking “Oh so now your my friend, your a bully! All you do is step on my toes and try to make me look like a fool!”

    “Are you on fucking drugs Granger? Not once have i ever gone out my way to harm you of any sort. Your the one who is obsessed with trying to be better then me and i never gave a shit. I never wanted to be your rival for three years and i certainly never bullied you!”

    the words you spoke went out one of Hermione’s ears and out the other. For someone as smart as her, she could be quite dense when angry “You don’t get to play the saint, L/n! I have spent those three years studying as hard as i can and you don’t even have to try!” 

   throwing your hands up in the air a crazy person because she was honestly starting to make your brain hurt quite a bit, you laugh loudly “Oh my- no one asked you too! What is so wrong with us being the same?! ” you shouted, finally raising your voice as much as she had.

    “Because your not a Muggle! You don’t know what it’s like to have everyone you meet already assume your not worth their time just because your parents aren’t witches or wizards!” she crept towards you and which each step she took you took a step right the fuck back.

    this chick wasn’t going to hit you, right?

    “I have never judged you for your blood status Granger, i frankly could care less. What i do judge you for is you know, the giant ego thing” you spat back only causing her to gasp in offense “I do not have an ego!” she yells, stepping into your boundaries basically.

   you had tried to back up like before, but you were pressed up against a wall at this point. “Yes you do and it’s as big as Hagrid!” you reply. Hermione grabs the collar of your white uniform shirt, pulling you down a bit so her face was inches from yours, trying to intimidate you.

    “Take it back!” she threatens. In that moment your eyes scanned her face, noting her almost perfect skin, her brown eyes that looked more hazel up close then far away, and her lips. They looked so soft and inviting. You couldn’t quite understand why you were thinking like this all of the sudden.

    but it felt right, so right

    in a swift motion you place your lips on Hermione’s. You had thought she’d pull away, but only half a second later her arms were wrapped around your neck, pulling you as close as possible to her. You tangled one of your hands into her light brown wavy mess and the other pushed on the small of her back. 

    the kiss was messy and sloppy, not amount of anything really could make it appropriate. How did you two go from fighting to almost ripping each others uniforms off? A question no one could really answer but yourself as well Hermione. 

    it was over as soon as it began with Hermione pulling away, leaning her forehead against yours. You could make out the small smile on her face, it made you smile as well. “That was-” she started to speak, but was stopped by her own laughter. 

    “Yeah” you breathed out. What had just happened?

        ☼-☪-☼

    four months later

    ever since that day you and Hermione would casually meet up in the lavatory to kiss and feel up on each other after, btween, during classes. Anything really. You both had also not interacted at all outside of these visits. Just stayed away from each other as much as possible.

    most people thought you two had either made up after three years of rivalry or had decided to no longer interact with each other at all. Little did they know right? Speaking of that, you pull away from Hermione, panting for air “We have divination in three minutes” you spoke. 

   her face turned to worry instantly making you grin to yourself “Godric, i have to get out of here. Wait a couple minutes” she gathered her belongings and rushed out the restroom not even leaving you with an goodbye kiss. How rude. After about five minutes or so you leave as well

    once you get to class you look around the room and spot Hermione already sat with Harry and Ron on one side of the arch like sitting area for the students. “Y/n!” oh not again. Turning your head to the right, you spt the Slytherin boy with his mates.

   this guy just doesn’t quit. You plop yourself next to Draco Malfoy “I thought you were going to ignore me again” he admits. Ignoring his statement, you gaze around the people at your table “Where’s Parkinson? If i’m going to be stuck with you gits and Theo i rather it be with her” 

   Theo cracks a smile while Draco rolls his eyes “She’s sick, stuck in her dorms” he explains. You nod mindlessly and look over at Hermione. She was brushing through her hair with her fingers, trying to make it look like you weren’t tugging on it just minutes ago. 

    “What’s that on your neck?” Harry asks, moving the top part of Hermione’s robe with his finger, causing her to swat his hand away “It’s just a bug bite” she says with haste. quick thinking, that’s kinda cute. For some odd reason you liked seeing her explain her way out of a hickey that you gave her. 

    class soon started, but you kept your inventive gaze on her. It was adorable how she would catch you staring and turn a nice shade of red. It brought a smug smile to your face each time. Professor Trelawney had called upon Hermione to ask a question, but she seemed to be too busy avoiding your gaze. 

    “My dear, Ms. Granger” Trelawney said for maybe the third time until Hermione finally fell back down to reality. She looked at the Professor who gave her a kind smile “Oh um-” the Gryffindor put on a nervous smile, her eyes looking to you. You sent her a wink.

    merlin you were such an asshole

    Hermione looked at her lap, trying to muster up the words, any words actually. Her savior wore glasses “Hermione isn’t feeling to well. Can Ron and i take her to the hospital wing?” Harry asked. What a buzzkill. Trelawney nods, waving her hand to the direction of the door. 

    Harry tapped Hermione’s shoulder while Ron grabbed her things and off they went. 

        ☼-☪-☼

    a week later

    “I have to head to dinner, you should too. I saw that you didn’t eat during lunch” Hermione spoke, buttoning her uniform shirt. You smile, looking into the mirror so you could fix your hair “Watching me Granger?” you ask, turning away from your reflection.

    “You know i worry about your health” she said, which only made your smile wider “What is that stupid smile for?’ Hermione questions, an amused laugh in her tone. Shrugging, you lean against the sink counter “Stupid? I thought you liked my quote on quote ‘Goofy smile’” 

    Hermione shakes her head, grabbing her bag from the floor “I better see you at dinner or i’ll drag you there myself” she said playfully. An idea popped into your mind. “Then drag me” you smirk, tilting your head to the left. Hermione looks at you, shaking her head again. “You know i can’t”

    “Why not? It’s been four months. I would like to be your-” you stopped mid sentence. You both had never really gave each other labels before. It was always just the casual make out and flirting, but now you were much more. Fuck it “I would like to be your girlfriend in public”

    Hermione’s brow eyes went wide as she heard those words. It becoming a little too real. You saw her conflicted face and immediately felt some sort of shame. Averting your gaze to the ground, you take a deep breath. “Forget i said anything” 

    “No!- i mean. I’m ready. Plus i’m tired of being distracted by you during class” Hermione lightened the mood just a tad. You look back up at her, cracking a half smile “I’m most likely still going to distract you” you point out, making her chuckle. Cute.

    she inhales sharply “Let’s do this” she states confidently, letting out the breath. She reached out, opening her hand for you to grab. In that small gesture, you knew you would be with this woman for as long as you lived. Grabbing her hand, you intertwined your fingers with hers. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    hand in hand, you walk into the great hall. Heads turned and pupils dialated at the sight of you and Hermione walking in together. You honestly felt a little self conscious until you saw the bright smile of Cho and Luna as well as Draco who gave you a hidden thumbs up.

    both you and Hermione took  seat at the Gryffindor table. “So Hermione, how long as this been going on?” Harry asked. Hermione glances at you before her best friend “Four months, one week.” she said, gleaming with pride at her memory. 

    Harry looked taken aback at the time, but gave you both a smile “Well at least you both are getting along finally” he says, Ron nodding beside “Yeah- getting along” the Weasley jokes. You laugh a bit before leaning over to kiss the temple of Hermione's head. 

    rivals am i right?

        ☼-☪-☼

    Click here to join my Taglist so you never miss a new story from me!

    @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @queeriacs @marrymetheonott

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody- Aye look its 10 am and i haven’t slept. Good night, my requests are open blah blah. Anyways, peace. 

[darling-i-read-it]

Twenty Minutes

Will Graham x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: smut

Author’s Note: hi yes, prison will could rail me ANY DAY (any will could but lets be real that jumpsuit and hair really did something extra) 

Summary: You convince Frederick for a conjugal visit with WIll

Genre: smut

Song: Motivation by Kelly Rowland 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Will had this look in his eyes ever since he went to prison. You had been beside him for the longest time and that look was almost foregin to you. LIke the world had shattered at his feet and he managed to pick up every single piece of glass to make it a picture that was even messier than before.

But he had done it.

So he controlled it.

And that look in his eyes was no longer unstable. It was no longer scared or filled with confusion.

Will Graham had come into his own in prison and how many people could say that?

“Conjugal visit? Please, I know you don’t think he’s the Ripper but everyone else is pretty sure he is,” Frederick said as he sat at his desk. “And may I just say, you look different. A could be different.” You gave him a thinned lipped smile.

“Thanks it's the fact my boyfriend went to jail for serial murder.” You sat down at the seat in front of his desk. You missed Will. And you were curious as to what he was doing at this point. If his mind had changed. You imagined pieces that hadn’t healed yet that weren’t being treated. Or rather, were being treated by doctors with their own agendas. “One visit. Twenty minutes. That’s all I ask. I may even be able to bring you back information if you aren’t watching all the time. If you can assure me that we will have a private twenty minutes I will give you pieces I never gave to Hannibal.” 

“Pieces of Will?” 

“Well of course. Who else?” 

Frederick weighed the ideas here. He thought about the fact that you would likely feed him lies to get Will out quicker. His mind thought about what you would do during that visit and he came up with things he couldn’t imagine a murderer doing to any consenting women.

Then again, you and Will had always been a bit much.

But perhaps you were going to give him secret information. Swap stories of what had happened in secret. Maybe you were just a girl missing her closest friend. 

“You don’t think he’ll hurt you?” he asked. You scoffed.

“If Will murders me that’ll be on me. I’ll sign something so no one sues if you want although I’m fairly certain he won’t lay an unwanted hand at me.” 

“Twenty minutes. And if you fail to give me anything of substance I’ll make sure he has a living hell for the next few weeks.” You smiled. You figured you’d tell him some bullshit story about Will fishing to add to the symbolism of the book he wanted to write. 

“Thank you Fredreick.”

“Anything for you dear.” 

You set up an afternoon and Will had no idea. Chilton was always one for a good surprise and watching Will unsure where he was going was something he enjoyed. You walked beside Chilton to one of the private offices. You had picked it and sweeped it once before for bugs and cameras. You were prepared to look again once you got in.

“You look stunning,” Chilton commented. Your heels hit the floor with a powerful click as you entered the room.

“Thank you. When will he be here?”

“Just a few minutes.”

You looked at Frederick and he nodded, shutting the door behind him. You looked across the place once more and found that Frederick must have kept his words. The room wasn’t built for these kinds of meetings. It seemed to be something of a forgotten office. Two chairs and a desk with bare walls. A bookcase with no books in it. You watched the door for a minute until Will walked in, wearing his gray jumpsuit. 

His mouth opened a tad at the sight of you which turned quickly to a laugh.

“I thought Frederick finally gave up and was sending me to the electric chair.” You and Frederick laughed.

“Twenty minutes.” You nodded.

“We won’t need long. Are you going to take those off?” you asked, pointing to the cuffs. Chilton shook his head.

“Not gonna give up that precaution. You’re on the clock.”

He shut and locked the door behind him. You quickly shut the only window and turned to Will who was looking at you with curiosity. What would have usually been worry or comfort was something different now. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You walked up to him and he backed up a step, hitting the lone desk. You put a hand on his cheek gently and looked into his eyes.

“What is going on in that head? I used to know. Now I feel like it’s so foreign.” Your voice was laced with an underlying lust that Will’s knees started to tremble over. He touched your hair with his hand, the other dangling from the cuffs. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked again.

You kissed him and he kissed you with such force that you almost stumbled over. His wrists tugged at the cuffs angrily and it would probably leave marks later. He moved you so that you were sitting on the desk, kissing him hungrily. 

Your hands ran through his curls and gasped as his lips moved to your chin. You were desperately trying to find out how his jumpsuit came off, struggling with the buttons and the white undershirt. You wanted to touch every piece of him, inhale him as though you would never touch him again.

“Take off your shirt,” he demanded and his voice sent shivers down your spine. You did as you were told and he cupped your breast, allowing you to take off his jumpsuit, kicking it to the ground and off of him. 

“Will your shirt,” you breathed and he nodded, allowing you to take off the white undershirt so that your hands could roam his bare back and chest. He paused and looked at you, right in your eyes. 

And there it was again.

That look. 

Like he wasn’t broken anymore.

Like he was about to wreck you. 

And fuck was it hot.

He put himself inside you and put his hands on your thighs, as best he could with the restraint. He wasn’t being gentle and you didn’t mind. This was nowhere near your first time together.

You gripped his shoulders and was so full of adrenaline that you came like putty very quickly. It didn’t take him long either, the prison time taking a toll on him. 

You breathed heavily against each other before backing up to look at each other's expression.

“Is that all?” he asked, laughing dryly.

“We could go again?” 

“Chilton will be back soon and I don’t know how you got this jumpsuit off me,” he said laughing. There he was. Your Will was still there.

“I’ll help. Lemme just get my pants back on.” 

It took you a few minutes to retrieve every bit of clothing again but you did manage to put it all on by the time Chillton burst into the room. He looked disappointed.

“Did you enjoy your time?”

You put a hand on Will’s beard, kissing him softly one more time. 

“Yes we did. Why, you want details Frederick?” you teased. He chuckled but you could tell he secretly wanted to say yes.

[austarus]

Frost/Caitlin Snow x Reader - 5 and 7

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

*I’m not dead, however, I’m slowly trying to get back into writing. I’m so mentally and emotionally exhausted from my uni and classes. I’m just so tired. I just want winter break to come. My professors and university don’t really care about doing their jobs correctly or compensating/accommodating the students during the stress of the pandemic. It’s harder at the hospital I work at. Break is coming soon and I have so many fics planned. 

Word Count: 2453

“So, cutie, when are you going to tell them?”  

You yelped in surprise at the source of the voice. Turning around you saw Frost leaning against the doorframe of your room. “Tell who- What- How the hell did you even get in here?” You raised an eyebrow at her while she strolled in and plopped down on your bed. You had no idea why she kept calling you pet names.

“I picked your lock.”

“Of course, you did,” you sighed, folding a shirt and setting it aside. You continued doing your laundry while Frost laid back on your bed, legs crossed. Glancing at her, you shook your head while she sucked on a lollipop. Caity had yelled at her for invading your privacy the entire time she was picking your lock. Frost payed her no mind. With your clothes fully sorted in piles, you picked one up and moved to your dresser. Bending down, you opened the most bottom drawer and placed the jeans there along with some leggings. Frost’s eyes racked over your figure.

She’s got a pretty nice ass, huh Caity?

Can’t you keep your eyes to yourself? Be respective.

Hey, (Y/N) started it a few days ago. Remember? And I’m being perceptive.

Caitlin had gone silent at the back of her alter ego’s head. A few days ago, you had accidentally stared a bit too long when she wore a deep V-neck romper. The back was completely open, and Caitlin was sporting her typical heels that day. The physician had caught you a few times, she just wasn’t sure what was up. Did it look bad on her? Was it damaged and you didn’t have the heart to tell her? Frost had… insisted on an idea, but Caity had shut her down. After all, you’ve only been ever interested in guys.

Her eyes were all over us. And her reaction when I came out was delicious.

“Nice panties,” Frost broke the silence, holding one up that had straggled far from you. Confused, you caught it when she had thrown it at you. It was a lacy deep blue one. You huffed and folded it quickly.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Your phone vibrated, with a frown you checked it. It was Cisco.

Ciscito: Is Frost/Caitlin with you? 5: 46 PM

You: Yeah? Why? 5: 51 PM

Ciscito: Good, keep her out of the labs for a bit. Barry and I are going to try to jumpstart the Speedforce machine thing again and she’s sort of been bothering us all day. 5: 53 PM

You: What? No? Have Ralph come pick her up! He’s better at dealing with her. 5: 54 PM

Ciscito: Too late... 5: 55 PM

You: She broke into my home!  5: 56 PM

Ciscito: That sounds like our frost queen. And Ralph’s busy with Sue 5: 57 PM

You: … Of course, he is 5: 58 PM

“I can see your nipples,” You snapped your head up to see the cold meta sit up on your plush bed. You felt your cheeks flush slightly as she smirked at you. Frost loved teasing you, “Right through your shirt. Perky. Cute.”

Don’t make her uncomfortable!

But its so cute and so easy to see her blush. Plus, you’ve seen her boobs in dresses before, they’re pretty cute. So squishy. I can just-

-They are- But that’s beside the point. Just, you know-

-I know, chill, I got this.

You rolled your eyes at her, “In my defense, if I had known someone was coming over, then I would have put a bra on.” You were having a lazy day today, deciding to just clean and not come into the labs. Originally you were going to just laze around without any clothes. You’re glad that you didn’t go through with that idea. “Don’t you have anything else better to do? Anyone else to bug?”

“I’m bugging you.”

“Besides me, Frost.”

“Nah, I’m good. Where’s your alcohol, by the way? I’m stealing some.”

“No, fuck you.”

“When and where? Because we can go right now,” The cold-powered meta pointed with her thumb on the bed. “Bed is right here so-”

“-I will hit that pretty face of yours.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty. Caity, she thinks we’re pretty.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. You always got into these sorts of… Well, you didn’t know how to exactly word it.

“So, when are you going to tell them?”

“Tell who what?” You rolled your eyes as she had followed you out of your bedroom into your quaint living room. Caity took the time to appreciate your small apartment. It was cozy, the color scheme fitting well with not just the décor and furniture, but with your personality.

“The team,” Frost simply stated as she ran her fingers over the cool marble of the side-counter attached to the wall and connected to the counter where the sink resided. You eyed the meta carefully, a ball forming in your gut.

“About what?”

“You know about what.”

“No, I don’t.” Pulling out the alcohol, you avoided her eyes.

“Can I use your bathroom real quick? Don’t want to break the barrier while drinking or else we both know there’d be no end to the bathroom trips for Caity.”

Hey! Rude! I’m right here.

But it’s true.

“First door on the left,” You simply said, pouring the meta a drink while you pulled out some snacks and ginger ale for yourself. Your stomach had been hurting you for a bit. Might as well entertain the Frost Queen while the boys finish. I swear, a warning would have been nice before she arrived.

Frost entered your bathroom and turned on the lights. She froze for a moment at the sight on what was on the arm of the bathtub. Before a snicker left her lips which erupted into a full-on laugh.

Is that-

-a dildo in her bathroom. Yup. Frost got closer and picked up the cleaned toy. She figured it was because the cleaning products for it was out on the counter. Which means she had used it fairly recently. Frost licked her lips at the thought of you using it. That same thought made Caity remain quiet and just feel hella bashful, yet… intrigued by it. Aw, that’s cute she can only take up to 5”. Bet you we can-

-Frost-

-get her up to 7”. Now that’s a delicious thought. It’s a good thing I bought the str-

“Hey, Frost have you seen- Oh my god- I- that’s-” You dropped your towel as you froze in the hallway. The meta turned around with the colored dildo in hand. Your ears had perked up at the intense sound of her laugh, wondering what she was laughing at. Well, now you know and you’re 100% convinced she’s laughing at you.”

“Not yours? I honestly find it hard to believe.”

You tried to form words, but your mind would not comply

“5 inches. That’s real cute. Caity thinks so too.”

Do not involve-

-You think it’s cute, now hush. I can feel your feelings too.

“Are you only meant to tease and pester me?” You flushed under her gaze, stepping over to take the dildo away. “Also, where’s Caitlin? Isn’t she supposed to be having the day to herself this time?” But she dodged you. Running out of the bathroom. You shut off the lights, because duh you pay rent and also save energy thus saving the planet.

“We sort of… switched it up. But this,” Frost held up the detailed dildo. The two of you kept running around the apartment like that. “You can do better. And you know what I mean.” Your heart stopped when she winked at you, giving the tip a slow lick as he eyes never left you. You swallowed hard.

“By the way, Caity and I know. Well, it was mainly me, but no need to be shy.”

“I- How?” You sighed in defeat because you couldn’t catch her. Well, you wanted to 100% tackle her to the couch and steal the dildo, but you Frost didn’t like anyone touching her. Instead you just took a seat on the couch while she moved to stand in front of you, the coffee table wedged between you both.

“A little birdie may have stared a bit too long a few too many times when we were wearing that v-neck romper.” She shrugged before taking a seat beside you. “And it really was adorable watching you fumble about and look away.” Frost smirked, resting her elbow on the back of the couch. “I wonder what else that face can make.”

You felt the air in the apartment get stuffier. “A-and Caitlin knows?”

“Oh, she knows. Now she knows. She just wasn’t convinced about my thought of you being gay… or well, bi. Mainly because you dated guys.” She handed you the dildo.

“Th-that did not mean I can’t be interested in girls. I just… never acted on it.”

“Oh, I know. She just didn’t want to assume and everything. You’re shit with talking to guys, so I figured you’d be the same way or much worse with girls.”

“Gee, thanks,” you rolled your eyes at her, setting the suction cup dildo on the counter. There was a silence in the apartment. You got up to grab the drinks, handing her the glass of alcohol on the rocks while you had your cup of ginger ale.

“Girls do it better.” Frost broke the silence and took great pleasure into seeing you almost choke on your drink.

“Where the fuck did that come from?”

“What? I was just stating an obvious fact in case you were wondering-”

“-I was not-”

“-Yes, you were.” She deadpanned, placing her alcohol down on the coffee table. “Oh, so Caity’s gonna tap in. Hold on.” You raised an eyebrow at the meta melting back into her human alter ego. Platinum blonde hair changed to a beautiful brunette color, eyes softening up as well.

“I am so sorry, I swear she doesn’t think before speaking,” Caitlin started apologizing, fidgeting with her hands. She was always so pretty and adorable when she did that. Or just whenever she spoke in general. “… But she is right.”

“About which part? That chicks do it better? That she can get me to 7”? Or that I’m shit with talking to guys and I would be much worse with girls?”

If she gave me one night, I’d get her to 7-

-Frost-

-Plus, who’d pass up a night of that kind of kinky fun.

Frost! Stop!

You raised an eyebrow and figured Frost was whispering her two cents into Caitlin, who was automatically flushing. “What did she say?”

“Too many things.” Caitlin roughly sighed, “I- we… sort of have been thinking and reflecting-” -Get to the point!- -I am! “A-and we wouldn’t really mind if- I mean we just. W-we like you. And we just wanted to know that we weren’t misinterpreting the signs.” Way to sound like a high schooler with a crush. Grow a pair woman and say that we wanna kiss and bang her like the world means nothing.

“I..” You took in a breath and held your cup with hands. A shaky breath left you. Glancing away, you collected your thoughts before turning back to an expectant Caitlin. “I really like you too. Both of you. Like… a lot.” Caitlin smiled, but you continued. Frost just whispered that she knew it and tried to get Caitlin to go in for the kiss. But Caitlin tuned her out. “At first, I… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to say anything because I just- I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. It’s- That’s why I kept going on those random-ass dates with some guys on bumble. It was actually fun taking some of the guys down a few notches. I swear the male ego is so infuriating sometimes.”

“Amen to that. Honestly Ronnie and Julian were one of the best guys in my life.”

You smiled back at her, “I wanted to convince myself that I shouldn’t be thinking of my close friend like that. But then I kept thinking and feeling. And here we are.” You gestured to herself and you.

Caitlin pulled you into a comforting hug, her arms around your shoulders, “When Frost came out, I did too. I think Cisco and Kamila were the first one’s to know. They did have to drag Frost out of a gay bar where she was literally arm wrestling the other drunk customers. Not one of her best moments.”

Caitlin pulled away abruptly, Frost coming out to defend herself. Platinum blonde locks, icy white irises, and blue lips. “Hey, it was one of my finer moments! I was kicking their asses left and right.”

“I never said anything.” You giggled and Frost just cupped your face with a grin on her face.

“You’re too cute to stay mad at.” The meta tugged you into a kiss, her cool lips pressed against yours, your hands lightly gripped her arms as your lips started smacking against hers in a rough-ish kiss. “Mm, you taste good. Like… vanilla latte?” Pulling away, Frost licked her lips from the kiss and melting back into the depths of her mind for Caitlin to come out to have a taste. Caity’s kiss was gently -sensual- unlike how heated Frost wanted to get with you. Damn, your heart was flying, and your panties were… well… yeah… You locked lips for a bit with Caitlin, nibbling on her soft lips before she finally pulled away with a small breath. Her cheeks were flushed and lips slightly swollen. She looked so cute.

Frost came out once more, pointing behind you, “You know, we can put that dildo to good use tonight.”

Frost, what the hell!

“Shouldn’t you take me out on a few dates before we go to bed?”

“Nah, we can do that tomorrow morning. Plus, Caity’s a big cuddle bug so be prepared for that. I’m more of a big spoon. For now, we can play with that bad boy,” Frost pointed to the dildo behind you, “before upgrading you the 7 inch that I have at home. And believe me. You’ll really enjoy it when I’m done with you.”

“As long as I get to do you too.”

“Obviously”

“Is Caity ok with it?”

“Oh, honey, she’s going to be more than ok with it. She’s flailing around embarrassed right now, but she’s hella wet so. Bed. Let’s go.” You couldn’t help the fit of giggles you had as she dragged you by the hand to your bedroom while holding the light purple dildo in her other hand.

[dastardlydandelion]

Billy having the bust appendix episode?

so i combined these into one thingy??

also the latter, uh, it's. like?? i played w ur prompt, dude, chose to focus more on the concept of "not lasting" w susan and max tho bc if i write neil for too long it'll inevitably turn into another murder fic.

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced/discussed abuse, brief suicidal ideation

“Day four of fever, fella. That’s no fun.” Susan sets the thermometer aside with a frown and brushes the back of her hand over his cheek.

Billy blinks slowly at the touch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve pushed her away. He hasn’t exactly enjoyed having the Stomach Flu From Hell for the better half of the week, but he supposes if there was ever a time to get sick, it’s now. Because these past few days have been the last few days he’s ever going to get with Susan and Max. He can use being sick as an excuse to let them get close like this. He can let himself let them close without feeling defensive or embarrassed because after tonight, he’ll never see them again.

“I feel better,” he mumbles as she brushes his fringe back, pad of her thumb gingerly lingering over the nick in his brow. “Really, Sue, s’not as bad today.”

And it’s not. Today’s Wednesday and he’s been feeling shitty since Sunday night, sluggish and nauseous with a nagging stomachache. He managed not to puke up Sunday dinner until Monday morning, although he didn’t actually make it to the bathroom. Susan scrubbed it out of his bedroom carpet even though Billy told her to leave it. Max stayed home from school to keep him company, which really…genuinely meant a lot to Billy, considering skipping school meant sacrificing some of the little time remaining with her friends. And she did it to just to hang out with his sweaty, grouchy, probably contagious and definitely less sociable self.

His stomachache got worse throughout the day but he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone. Didn’t say anything on Tuesday either, even though by evening it hurt so fucking bad it was like there was an invisible knife carving into his guts, blade twisting so terribly the only thing that helped at all was curling into a fetal position. Billy was almost frightened, actually. He doesn’t believe he’s ever felt worse than the torture he went through Tuesday, not even at his father’s hands.

But he couldn’t say anything. Not with everything going on. He wouldn’t do anything to possibly compromise the plan. Couldn’t let himself do anything that could delay their escape. So he sucked it up and kept his mouth screwed shut, endured in silence.

The relentless agony of nonexistent knives twisting through his guts kept him up all night. Then very early this morning, just as the sunrise’s first rays began to lighten the sky, the pain subsided. Billy still feels uncomfortable and he’d probably hurl again if he got a whiff of goat cheese or canned sardines, but it doesn’t compare to the misery of last night.

“How about I put the kettle on? Ginger tea is good for stomach bugs.”

“Nah.”

“What about chamomile?”

“No.”

“Peppermint?”

“Stop, Sue. I don’t want tea.”

“Please. You’ve barely kept anything down all week and you’re sweating like a turkey at Christmas. You’ll feel even worse if you get dehydrated, Billy.”

Susan retracts her hand with a fretful noise in her throat and turns to the door. With a sudden spike of panic that she’s— she’s leaving —he frees an arm from the blanket and grabs her wrist. Susan jumps as though she’s touched a hot stove. Billy immediately lets go. He wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Susan, I just…”

Chewing her lip, she nods down at him. She carefully sits on the edge of his bed, one leg folding on the mattress, opposite foot still on the floor. She takes his face in her chilly hands and Billy heaves out a sigh.

“I wish things were different,” she murmurs. “If the, uh…if the p-place Max and I are going accepted boys your age, you’d be coming with us. I promise I’d take you with us if I could.”

The shelter doesn’t allow male children over age twelve, Susan had informed Billy the night she told him they were leaving. She’d said it apologetically, eyes sorrowful like the look she’s giving him right now. She’s said it like it scraped her throat on the way out, tragic and grave as though she were reading him his own obituary.

It was the oddest thing Billy couldn’t begin to comprehend. He wouldn’t go with them even if going with them was an option. And never had he ever expected it to be an option. He doesn’t understand why Susan is looking at him like that.

“I just grabbed you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Susan’s face twitches like he’s the one being weird, like it isn’t she who’s looking at him with all these things he never wanted from her.

“You didn’t hurt me, Billy, just startled me a bit. I’m as skittish as a doe and of course today is…it’s a big day.”

“…what time?”

Susan spares a glance to his door. Still shut. Neil’s getting ready for work and he wouldn’t dare enter Billy’s room right now anyway. Wouldn’t risk catching whatever Billy has. He’d sent Susan in the bathroom Monday after Billy had barely stumbled out, wan from the latest round of purging, in drill sergeant mode and demanding that Susan bleach every contaminated tile.

“Noon. I want to drive in the daylight. Max is staying home from school. I told your father she caught your bug.”

Billy raises a brow.

“She didn’t,” Susan clarifies. “But he didn’t question the excuse. She’s sleeping in, I think it’s best to let her sleep in. It’s a big day.”

“Big day,” Billy repeats quietly.

Susan’s hands are still on his face, gentle and cool. Billy feels hot. The past few days he’s felt too cold or too hot, no in between. He’s either burrowing under the blankets to ward off the icy chills or laying on the bathroom tile to ease the sensation of roasting in his skin.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? You don’t have to drink it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Fluids are important, Billy.”

Susan slides her hands off and Billy wonders if perhaps that’s the last time she’ll ever touch him. She leaves his room. Quietly closes the door behind her. Billy rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around his stomach, wondering if he should’ve let her closer before. If he should’ve let Max closer too.

Maybe it’s better he didn’t. Maybe losing them would hurt more if he did. And it does hurt. Even when the minutes tick down to the time they will exchange their final goodbyes, he’ll never say it out loud, but it hurts. It’s going to gut him when they go.

But it’s good that they’re going. And it’s good that he’s not. Billy ensured early on that Susan knew never to act like his mother. And Susan never seemed particularly passionate about trying, maybe there was even some relief for her that Billy had shut down every feeble attempt, that she never had to claim him. Billy never asked for Max either. The responsibility of a little sister. The pressure of having to set a good example for her, more reasons for Neil to be pissed at him whenever he inexorably failed. Max thought he was cool when they were younger, then there was that really rough patch after the move, and now things are better.

Things are probably the best they’ve ever been between him and Susan, between him and Max, and he’s going to miss them. Billy wants them to leave. Billy wants to be left. But the separation, the severing, the knowledge that he will never see them again pounds his heart like brass knuckles. He’s never going to watch Susan take another spider outside in a tissue, humming her weird little singsong. He’s never going to have to groan and roll his eyes over being Max’s designated chauffeur to the arcade, the park, the monster movie matinee.

He’s going to be alone with Neil.

Susan brings Billy a ceramic mug of steaming tea. She feels his forehead and probes at the sides of his neck, humming in concern. He would never let her fawn over him without a fight on a normal day. He’s only receptive now because he knows they aren’t going to be in each other’s lives anymore. He doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he kind of likes the fawning, but maybe he wouldn’t— maybe he wouldn’t like it at all if she wasn’t leaving, maybe the leaving makes it special. Or maybe it’s easier to think of it that way than to wonder if it would’ve been better to have this kind of relationship all along.

Billy watches the steam rise from the mug. He doesn’t touch the tea. He’s exhausted and he finds himself drifting, dozing off…

When Billy blinks his eyes back open, he’s dismayed to find his stomach hurting again. It might actually be the stomachache that wakes him up. Either the stomachache or Max in the doorway, hand on the knob.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Billy begins to push himself up on his elbows, pauses when his gut lurches.

So much for that plan.

He settles back, and rolls onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest under the blanket. Some of the pain abates. This position is still the winner.

“Are you okay?” Max rests her hand on the mattress, cocking her head to the side. “Do you need the trash can again?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…My mom’s loading up the car.”

“Yeah?” Billy really hopes she isn’t here to ask him to help. If she does, he will, but just the idea of rolling out of bed sounds like a grandiose effort.

“Yeah. Can I hang out for a little bit?”

Something thick rises in his throat. “Sure thing, shitbird.”

Max climbs onto the bed and over Billy, jostling him enough to make him queasy. She sits at his back. He can’t see her but he feels her hand settle on his shoulder.

“Your room smells like gym socks and barf,” she remarks, scowl audible in her voice.

“When you catch this from me, your room’s gonna smell the same way,” he mutters. Only after the words have left his lips, does Billy really realize what he’s said.

Max’s bedroom here on Cherry Lane isn’t really her bedroom anymore. Susan’s putting her belongings in the car. The next time Max gets sick, maybe it won’t be in a bedroom of her own at all. Or it will be her bedroom in a house far away from here. It’ll be a room Billy will never go in and he’ll never have the opportunity to tease her.

“I’m kinda nervous about the shelter, Billy,” she admits, voice quiet and unsure. “I was nervous when we first moved to Hawkins too. But this is a different kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Billy mutters. “You’re gonna be safer there than you are here.”

“Supposedly,” Max huffs. “You know Neil’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What if he comes after us?”

“I won’t let him,” Billy declares, meaning every word.

“Could you really stop him?”

Billy curls a little tighter in an effort to ease the pain spreading through his stomach. It’s beginning to be more than a nuisance but he’s doing his best not to be distracted. Max needs him right now. This is the last time he’ll ever be an older brother. That’s more important, that’s the thing he needs to devote his attention to. He never asked for the job and he hasn’t been exceptional at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to soothe his soon to be ex-sister’s worries with her small hand shaking ever so slightly on his shoulder.

He cranes his neck back to meet her eye and flashes a winning grin he hopes looks less forced than it feels.

”Let’s put it this way, he’d have to kill me to get to you.”

Instead of being reassured, Max looks spooked.

“I really thought he was going to, you know. That night.”

Ah, that night. Billy knows which. He was feeling pretty ballsy, feeling strong and bold after a good workout and a couple of beers. When Neil got in his shit that night, for the very first time, Billy threw a punch.

He remembers thinking that things would go in his favor if he could just get Neil to the ground. That’s the last thing he remembers, actually. Thinking that. And maybe it really would’ve gone in his favor if he’d gotten Neil down. But he didn’t.

Billy doesn’t actually remember what happened. But it definitely wasn’t that.

“He wouldn’t really go that far, Max. Neil talks a big game, but I’m all he’s got and he knows it.”

Max doesn’t seem convinced in the least.

“I think that’s what made Mom decide we had to go,” she says quietly. “That night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says, tone sharp.

Max glowers, clearly disagreeing. Billy matches her stare.

“…I wonder if there will be other kids my age,” Max murmurs eventually, changing the subject.

Evidently neither of them want to argue their remaining time together away.

If there are kids her age, they’ll be girls, like Neil always wanted. No boys over twelve permitted stay. Billy shifts his head back, eyes sliding from Max and off to the wall. He’s starting to feel Tuesday night’s painful sort of nausea. Like his guts are going through a meat grinder.

“It’ll suck if I’m just surrounded by adults the whole time. However long that’s gonna be…Mom wouldn’t say.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know yet, Max.”

“Maybe not. She’s trying to keep her cool but I can tell she’s nervous. Even more than me and I can’t let on that I’m nervous at all, not to Mom, because then she’ll really flip her lid. She tried so hard to convince me everything will be okay at the shelter. She’ll feel like a failure if she knows I’m scared and Neil’s already made her feel a failure over and over. I won’t do it too.”

This is the last conversation they’re ever going to have. This is the last time they’re ever going to talk to each other. Max is on the precipice of another massive move to somewhere new. All the secrecy and uncertainties surrounding it make it all the more of a transition and Billy’s last job as her older brother is this conversation. He’s trying to focus on it, on her, but the pain in his stomach is growing more insistent.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Billy curls his fingers in the bedsheets and silently begs for it not to get any worse. Not now. Max is leaving, Susan is leaving, fuck it— his fucking family is leaving and he can’t do this right now.

“…uh…yeah. I’m gonna get out of this Hawkins dump as soon as I can. And I bet you and your mom will find somewhere for yourselves better than this dump too, without Neil steering the wheel…how about, five years from now, we meet up in Cali? At least you and me, Sue can come too if she wants.”

Billy doesn’t think she would. Things have been better between him and his stepmother, yeah, but. He knows what he is. And Max— Max too, really. She thinks she’ll want to see him again now. Things have been better and maybe there’s even a part of her that still thinks of him as her cool big brother, but when she gets some distance, she’ll get some perspective and neither of them will want anything to do with him anymore. By then he’ll just be one more ugly part of an ugly life, the wayward offspring of the enemy.

By then he’ll be nothing but a reminder and no one wants reminders.

Max hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. We could do that, right? I always wanted to go back to San Diego…”

She squeezes his shoulder and Billy shuts his eyes. It’s getting harder to ignore how awful he feels. His whole body sagging with the overall illness laying him low. The torrent of nausea washing over him even though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to puke up. The vengeful reprisal of the invisible knife, carving into his guts with a silent wrath.

“…does that sound good? …Billy?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly.

“The zoo, sick brain.” She huffs a little and gives his shoulder another squeeze. “In five years, let’s meet up at the zoo. In the gift shop where you stole the lion keychain.”

“Hey, you remember that.”

“You stole a gag giraffe toy for me too, the squishy one. When you squeeze it, the eyes pop out.”

“Pfft, yeah…I said, ‘look, it’s your mom’ and slipped it in your backpack.”

“I still have that giraffe, Billy,” she continues, voice determined. “I’m bringing it with me. I’ll look at it every day so I don’t forget our meeting place.”

Billy doesn’t really feel like talking anymore. He just wants to shove his head under the pillow and sleep it off, sleep it out. Wake up when his stomach isn’t being stabbed and his heart isn’t being strangled.

It’s a shining fantasy, that’s all. A fuzzy, glowing thing that will never happen. He’s just playing along for Max’s sake.

“What day, Max?”

“I was thinking the Fourth of July. You dad always made sure the fourth was the biggest Hargrove household holiday.” Billy can hear her roll her eyes. “Neither of us will ever forget that date, not even in five years.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Sounds good. We’ll meet again at the San Diego Zoo gift shop in five years, on the fourth.”

“Pinky swear?”

Moving makes the pain worse. Any movements, even small ones.

“Nah. My hands are all sweaty and contagious, you don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not getting you sick, Max,” Billy states firmly. “You’ve got enough going on.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“I really do,” she says eventually, her tone wary. “I hate Neil. But leaving him means leaving you and my friends, and going somewhere with a bunch of total strangers who have their own Neils who might come after us.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! Stranger things have happened! Stranger things happen all the time!”

Max smacks her hands together and does something with her arms that shifts her weight and in turn, shifts the mattress. The minute movement multiplies the knives and the stabs, and Billy agonizes, grinding his molars against a hiss as those knives in his gut twist so hard he’s already seeing fireworks.

“What’s wrong?”

It hurts so bad. This isn’t the flu. Billy doesn’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not the flu.

“Billy?”

Christ, is he dying?

“Hey.” The back of Max’s hand rests against his cheek, smaller and warmer than her mother’s was, fabric bandaid under her knuckles now protecting that scab she wouldn’t stop picking at. “Geez, you’re burning up. Are you dying?”

He’d gibe back at her if he wasn’t seriously evaluating this possibility. He momentarily considers telling her that he is, that it’s so fucking bad it’s like knives. Then he blinks and Susan’s here, half-in-half-out, one foot over the threshold of his bedroom, the other still in the hallway.

“Time to go, Max.”

Max inhales sharply above his ear. Billy composes himself. He clears his throat and does his best to keep his voice steady.

“You heard her,” he mutters. “Get your ass outta here, lemme sleep this off.”

Abruptly, Max’s weight flops over his torso, arms squeezing. She’s hugging him. She’s hugging him and the pain is so bad it’s blinding. Billy traps a scream between his teeth, burns with shame as the tears spring to his eyes. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to push her off. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to hug her back.

“Germs,” he manages to grate out, hoping it’s enough.

Max’s arms unlatch and she climbs down from his bed. Billy’s head spins with reeling pain and nausea as she trots across his floor for the final time. She stands at her mother’s side, no longer his responsibility.

“Bye, Billy.” Max’s lips twitch in a sad smile, her hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

Susan steps aside to let her through and lingers for a heartbeat, frowning at him.

“I hope you feel better, Billy…”

“Your tea was bitter,” he gripes even though he hasn’t taken a single sip.

Susan’s eyes sharpen. She sees something, Billy isn’t sure what. Her lips part but he speaks first.

“Please get out.”

So he can cry. So he can scream. It hurts, he hurts. His stomach, his heart. It’s horrible, he’s horrible.

Susan bobs her head and obliges, making herself scarce. Billy hangs onto the sound of steps getting further away. He doesn’t let the tears fall until he hears the door close and then he’s smashing his face into his pillow to smother his sobs in cotton stuffing. Forces himself to stop because crying’s making it worse, much worse, his shoulders are hitching and moving is anguish.

Something is so very wrong.

Billy can’t even think around its wrongness. Last night the pain was sharpest in his side but right now it feels like his whole stomach is burning. He shifts even slightly and his stomach burns with white-hot pain but he’s so cold everywhere else.

Billy lies still and curled and quiet, impatiently waiting for it to get better. If he doesn’t move, it should get better. Curling like this helped last night and then this morning, the pain went away.

Will it go away again if he just keeps waiting?

He’s already waited so long.

Will it come back even worse?

Could it get worse?

That’s a stupid question, everything can get worse. If there is anything Billy has learned in his life, it’s that there’s no real rock bottom. It can always get worse.

That shove will turn into a slap. That slap will turn into a punch. That punch will multiply into many punches. The opposite arm will lock around your throat so those punches can keep pummeling the breath right out of you and the night you think you’re gonna punch back—

No such thing as bad as bad gets, no limits, maybe if he really is dying, it’s for the best. Maybe dying is the best goddamn thing that can happen to you in a world where invisible knives slicing into you and screams shriveling like dead leaves—

(everyone leaves, doesn’t matter if it’s autumn)

—behind your chattering teeth could very well be the least of your suffering. It hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

Billy forces himself out of bed anyway. He always gets up even when he doesn’t want to, but today he’s outstandingly bad at it. His organs must be pureed from all the silent stabs and his legs buckle under him. His hands fly out when he falters, ceramic mug knocked off his nightstand.

When the tea spills on him, it’s cold and Billy’s confused because it’s supposed to be hot tea. Then he’s confused at his own confusion because no fucking shit it’s cold now, it’s been out for hours.

How many hours?

When did Susan put the kettle on?

How long has Susan been gone, Max in tow?

It feels like an eternity but Neil isn’t home yet, so Billy knows that’s not true. He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’d know if Neil was home. Neil makes his presence known. Neil doesn’t set foot in this house without immediately staking claim to everyone’s attention.

Everyone?

There is no everyone anymore. Just Billy and Neil now. Billy got out of bed with the intention of finding his keys. Driving himself to the hospital. Because it’s been hours, how many he isn’t sure, but enough of them to mean he needs to go to the hospital. Go to the zoo?

No, he— he can’t go to the hospital.

He could make himself get up. Demons slice their claws through his stomach with every chill that wracks his frame and garble their guttural taunts right into his ears but he could get up. He could but he won’t, he knows better.

If Billy goes to the hospital, they’re going to call Neil. It’s a small town. Someone will know who he is even if he pretends to be too out of it to say. Someone will know he belongs to Neil and then Neil will be called. Then Neil will find out even sooner that he’s been left, and he’ll get mad, and Billy doesn’t know what he’ll do with the anger but it won’t be good.

Max and Sue need as much time as they can get, as much distance between him and his dad as possible before he finds out. He’s going to find out but they got a head-start and Billy won’t sabotage that. It’s better for him too, in case Neil decides to turn the rage his way. Neil takes responsibility for jack shit, he might even decide it’s Billy’s fault they're gone, because he got left behind to blame.

Billy could make himself get up but he won’t. He just pulls the comforter off the bed and over himself on the floor. It’s so bad he could writhe but that too, would make it worse. He’s waiting to watch a demon claw its way out of his stomach, like that scene in that one movie he watched with Max.

It wasn’t the last movie he watched with Max. Billy doesn’t remember the last movie he watched with Max, the last movie he’ll ever watch with Max. He’s never going to see her again. If he dies here on the carpet, he supposes he’ll never see anyone again.

Crying about it won’t help. Crying doesn’t solve anything.

Something is making a horrible yowling sound. There’s a stray cat in the neighborhood, it must be right outside his bedroom window. Or else it got inside somehow, it sounds so close. Its cries sound so wretchedly human.

Billy isn’t a brother anymore, he has demons twisting their pitchforks in his stomach, he’s too cold to catch his breath, and his cheeks are very wet. He doesn’t have any time or energy to chase around a stray cat, to stop it from making a mess.

Billy does not die on the floor. When his father comes home at first his yells are angry and then his yells are fearful. He calls an ambulance and cradles Billy close until it comes.

Billy loses himself in the whirlwind of activity that follows. He gets poked and prodded and jabbed, and someone blessedly takes his pain away but Billy doesn’t know who because everyone’s faces blur until they all look the same. He has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration.

Dehydration, that’s deja vu. But it’s not Susan talking about dehydration this time even though he wishes it was. He wishes it was?

Yes. No. She needed to get out. Max needed to get out. Billy has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration, and his fever’s so high they might as well bake cookies on him and— and if his mother were here, she would like that one, yeah, he definitely got his dry wit from her. Sardonic snark is right up Mom’s alley. But she had to get out too, everyone has to get out.

Except Billy. He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, apparently he needs surgery, but he doesn’t need to escape. One day he will, but he doesn’t need to. It’s not a necessity. No matter what Max saw That Night he doesn’t remember, Neil would never kill him.

Neil would never, ever kill him. Billy is his only legacy. Piss poor legacy from Neil’s standpoint, sure, he’ll never let him forget it. But nonetheless, it’s the only one he’s got. Billy may blow his brains out when he gets bored of his twenties (if he even makes it that far) just to spite the bastard because he doesn’t want to be his good-for-nothing piece of shit legacy, he never asked for that.

But now is not the time to begrudge all he didn’t ask for, now is the time to count backwards.

“Dad?” Billy calls into the quiet nighttime of the room, blinking fuzzily at the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed. His throat feels like sandpaper, he swallows with an effort and tries again. “Dad?”

Neil stirs this time, eyes brightening, alert on Billy. “I’m here. Do you need something?”

Billy pauses. “M’sick, right?”

“Sure as shit you’re sick,” Neil huffs, eyes narrowing. “Almost lost all three of you in the same day.”

The words bounce around Billy’s skull.

“Susan left me,” Neil continues slowly, anger shimmering like hot coals underneath the veil of weariness. “All her stuff is gone, she took Max too. I don’t expect you knew anything about that?”

“No, sir,” Billy denies. “I thought they went shopping.”

“No. They certainly didn’t go shopping. They cleared out and left us behind. No explanation, no letter, not even a note.”

So it’s ‘us’ now, huh?

Billy widens his eyes, does his best to seem surprised as he attempts to sit up. Then he really is surprised, first at how awful of an idea that is, and then at realizing the blanket covering his hospital bed is one from home. One of Neil’s, fleecy and worn.

“Grabbed a few things from home. Needed something to do to keep my mind busy. You were on the operating table twice as long as they told me you were gonna be, Bill. Scared the hell out of me.”

“…why?”

“I’m told your appendix ruptured before they opened you up and that complicated things…you’re gonna be here for a little while, bud.” Neil gently rubs his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He answered the wrong question. Billy wasn’t asking why it took longer, he was asking why Neil was scared. But he doesn’t correct him. He swallows and hopes Max and Susan are safe. He wonders just what time they got to wherever they were going. Susan never shared the location or ever alluded to the distance from Hawkins. He hopes there were no mishaps along the way, no flat tires or fender-benders, or murderous traffic in backed up lanes.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. “Not gonna bitch about a stupid stomachache.”

At that, his father raises a brow. He gives a shake of the head and his hand leaves Billy’s shoulder. He makes a low noise in his throat that almost sounds like approval and covers Billy’s forehead with his hand. The heel of his palm is calloused and Billy knows he’s been hitting the bottle when the unmistakable scent of warm beer wafts over his nostrils.

“Well, it’s just us now, tough guy. You need to speak up if something’s really wrong, capeesh?”

He said it again. Us. They’re an us once more. Billy tiredly lifts his hand, bracing his elbow on the mattress to give his father’s forearm a squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

57 and 10 for shoni ?

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

Forgotten First Meeting  & Airport/Travel AU 

so i've gotten a couple of anons bugging me about poet!toni so here is the beginning of an au i'm chewing around with. this is more actually an au of an au, as this won't actually be a scene in it, it was just me dicking around with the characters. Basically, shelby and toni play sisters in king lear and also toni's poetry is slowly driving shelby up a wall and has been since they first met in an airport and shelby robbed toni of her notebook but toni forgot she existed and shelby has hung onto the notebook ever since. The first poem is an original, the second is an excerpt from my girl adrienne rich. it's barely an airport au, anon i'm sorry, but suck my dick <3

It’s a little leather bound notebook, moleskin and only half full.

Toni Shalifoe!!

Don’t read!!!!!!

Email me here!!!! tshalifoe@zoobah.com

It’s something of a haiku, which is line with the first poem, also pretty intensely structured.

There is one apple left on the old apple tree

Fall

Winter

Spring

Summer

My golden color turns to brown

Bite by the squirrels chews me down

There is only a core

Left of me

On that old apple tree

But my seeds are planted

And I have left

A legacy

Shelby reads every single poem in there, disregarding the first entry begging her not to. The scrawl is childish but she thinks the girl must be old, middle school or something. She never shows her parents and she never emails to return the notebook.

It was in a Minnesota gate anyway, what was she gonna do, mail it?

The poems are odd, one is about climbing a mountain, another about the angel of death, a third about an apple tree. Shelby never quite gets them and she decides the writer doesn’t really either. Toni. Whoever she is.

She’s only a fourth grader and she’s not allowed to use a computer without parent permission anyway. So she doesn’t think about it.

Years pass.

King Lear is the worst Shakespeare play Woods could’ve chosen for the fall production. For one thing, it’s not a history like Richard is, so it won’t get cool and bloody. That wasn’t a problem for her but if they wanted guys to audition, blood and gore was necessary. It wasn’t a comedy like Twelfth Night nor was it famous like Midsummer, meaning audiences would be bored and ticket sales would go down. Again, not a problem for her but they were already operating a shoe string budget, ever since the football team got that new scoreboard.

Shelby wasn’t saying the football team didn’t deserve that scoreboard! Andrew might not have thrown a completed pass since the ninth grade but football was an important sport. They needed it.

The one thing that pissed Shelby off about King Lear was that it wasn’t a romance. Call her basic but she was a sucker for love stories. King Lear was just a tragedy about some king losing his throne. There was nothing interesting or important or applicable and she didn’t get how she was supposed to play Cordelia. Cordelia refused to say she loved her father, that was her whole thing. She was just a pretty girl who didn’t love her father.

“Shelby,” Woods said. “This is your sister, Goneril,”

Shelby looked up from the script to the antagonist, a short women with a furrowed brow. “Have we met?”

“I don’t think so,” Shelby held out her hand. “Shelby Goodkind. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Toni Shalifoe,” Toni Shalifoe said. She took Shelby’s hand and Shelby kept her expression clear, continuing to grin brightly at the girl’s who’s poems had haunted two years of her life. It had to be a different Toni. What were the chances?

“Toni here,” Woods clapped her shoulder, “Just moved from Minnesota.” Frick. “I thought maybe you could show her around.”

Shelby smiled wide. “I would love to.”

How did some random no one from nowhere become Goneril? One of the biggest parts in the show? That wasn’t fair to Cindy, who’d been auditioning every year! Probably because Toni was a senior or something, had to be it. Or maybe she’d been held back? Shelby had been so sure the writer was older than her.

“So,” Shelby said, once Woods walked away to harass the orchestra. “Do you like Texas?”

“Fuck no,” Toni said.

“It’s not that bad,” Shelby tried.

“Literally what’s to like?”

“Clearly you’ve never been to a dude ranch.”

Toni rolled her eyes. “Hard pass.”

“That wasn’t an invitation,” Shelby said.

“Thank god,” Toni said.

She sorted through her lines, brow furrowing again as she made notes and Shelby watched her, wondered if she was still brilliant. If she was the same age as Shelby, which she seemed to be, surely she still had to be writing right?

“At least we’re doing a decent play,” Toni said.

Shelby blinked at her. “You think King Lear is decent?”

“Duh,” Toni looked up. “It’s like—one of his best? C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t get it.”

“I guess I don’t get it,” Shelby said. “It’s just about some crazy king giving up his throne. Divine right to rule and like not democratic.”

“It’s about three daughters struggling to figure out what to do with their parent in his old age,” Toni said. “It’s about the sick and dying not being taken care of and being cheated by their kids.”

“Okay,” Shelby tried. “So?”

“So,” Toni said. “Eventually you’ll have to decide what to do with your parents. Whether to put them in a home or have them stay with you or whatever. They’re gonna get old and sick eventually.”

“I know that,” Shelby said.

“So why don’t you like King Lear?” Toni said. “Let me guess—you prefer Romeo and Juliet?”

“I’m a sucker for a good romance,” Shelby said. “Sue me.”

“Romeo and Juliet isn’t a romance, it’s a treatise on the importance of letting your kids be happy,” Toni said.

“What?”

“If Romeo’s parents had realized how deep heartbroken he was, or if Juliet’s parents realized she didn’t want to marry Paris, they both would’ve been and probably wouldn’t have fallen in love,” Toni said.

“Hold on,” Shelby said. “You’re saying the greatest love story ever told was actually teenage rebellion?”

“If that’s your greatest love story, I’m sorry for you,” Toni said.

Shelby got up and walked away.

Later, and she wasn’t proud of this, she realized Toni had left her bag behind. She knew it was Toni’s because she had to open it to find out who it was. And when she opened it she saw a little spiral notebook.

Property of: Toni Shalifoe

toni.shalifoe@gmail.com

Please email me if you find this.

There was no instruction not to read so…

I dreamed you were a poem,

I say, a poem I wanted to show to someone…

and I laugh and fall dreaming again

Of the desire to show you to everyone I love,

to move openly together

in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,

which carries the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.

Shelby slammed the journal shut, shoved it in the backpack, and raced out of the auditorium. Hopefully, Toni would return for her own backpack.

[deniigi]

i have been sick in bed with a stomach bug and re-reading a bunch of your series and these questions have plagued me so pls, for the sake of your fellow samuel chung lover, if sammy was in the Selkie verse, would he be a fae? if so, what kind? ALSO, what would his interactions with jack be like (either in the selkie verse or in the lying by omission verse)? pls and thanks <3

hi!

I’ll answer asks in a bit, but for this one I have a fic that explore a What If Jack Lived/Mike existed scenario with Sam in the Inimitable verse? I know it’s now what you asked for, but it is like 4k already written so that might be smth--an LBO Sam would be tricky because Sam would be itty bitty and Matt wouldn’t have the same kind of relationship with him.

As for selkie-verse Sam? I would have to do more research on Chinese spirts/fae/folklore, but for now, he’s not fae, just human 💖He’s like 12 and can make himself invisible though, which would be very confusing for Sue if she ever bumped into him

(Sue: baby boggart??? come here I love you I will look after you.)

(Sam: please stay exactly 5037 feet away from me! Thank you and I’m calling my mom!)

Here is the What If Jack and Mike thing from the Inimitable Verse.

Jack Murdock was the size of a house. He made Matt look dainty. He made Kirsten look like a kids’ mannequin. And he made Foggy laugh until he wept.

Sam could not understand a goddamn thing he said. Nor could he understand the guy he’d brought with him, who appeared to have had some serious plastic surgery to look exactly like Matt.

Sam could take an unintelligible giant. What he couldn’t take was an unintelligible Matt, and before him, somehow, in this ring of ginger, he’d been presented with two unintellible Matts.

His head was spinning.

Kirsten patted at him sympathetically.

“I’m from New York,” Sam told her mournfully.

“I know, hon.”

“How is this even possible? You’re from New York. How are they—what are they saying?”

Kirsten shook her head.

“Only Foggy knows,” she said. “It’s okay, he’ll translate when he gets back up.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock, the tallest of the gingers, might have been a good three to four inches taller than his boys, and he might have had the biggest hands that Sam had ever had the opportunity to touch in his life, but he was really nothing but a big, shaggy sheep dog.

The reasons Sam couldn’t understand a single fucking word he said came threefold.

1) Mr. Murdock had grown up in mid-century Hell’s Kitchen. That was just how accents from those parts used to sound. They’d lightened with time.

2) He had an extra layer of what Matt called a ‘brogue.’ He was first-generation American. Both his folks had immigrated from Ireland. He talked halfway between the way they talked and the way that the kids in his neighborhood growing up had.

And 3) The man had a lisp?

It wasn’t super noticeable. Sam sure as shit couldn’t hear it among the other layers of stuff going on, but Foggy said it was there.

Apparently, it came out more when he was anxious.

Apparently, he was anxious a lot.

Foggy told Sam to just give it an hour and he’d understand.

 --

  “So your name is Sam?” Mr. Murdock asked him while Sam tried to keep his mouth from falling open.

Matt was holding his facial-copy-cat against the wall by his lapels. The copy-cat had started making kissy noises at him. He egged Matt on to punch him right in the face.  

No one was stopping them.  

Kirsten cleared her throat and brought Sam back down to earth.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam. Mr., uh—”

“Call me Jack.”

Never.

“Matty hasn’t said much about you, sorry to say.” Mr. Murdock explained. The more he spoke directly to Sam, the more Sam found, to his relief, that he could understand him. “He don’t like sharin’ things his brother can get ahold of and take from ‘im.”

Sam looked from him to the ‘brother.’

“There’s two of them?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“God help us, every one,” he huffed.

You can say that again.

“How long has there been two?” Sam asked hesitantly.

“Mm? Oh, uh. Christ with the math,” Mr. Murdock said, “Michael—Michael—boy, you knock that off; that’s how you lose teeth—how old are you now?”

Nevermind. Sam didn’t need to know.

“I’m ageless, Pops, remember?” ‘Michael’ said, grinning at Matt’s sneer in his face, “Everlasting, never dying. Immortal. Timeless. I’m—” Dude got the wind knocked out his sails from Matt aiming for his solar plexus instead of his face.

“Maitiú,” Mr. Murdock said sharply. “He’s your brother.”

“He earned it,” Matt snapped back at his dad. “You said ‘no teeth,’ I ain’t even touched his goddamn teeth.”

“No, you coward, you wouldn’t, would you?” Michael threw back at Matt with no sense in his head. “You scared of gettin’ stuck on all that metal, huh?”

“I ain’t got my tetanus booster,” Matt deadpanned.

“Oh, get the yellow fever one next time, it’s a hoot—”

“I’m mailing you back to Thailand in a crate.”

“Oh mail me, why don’t you?”

“I’m gonna.”

“Boys,” Mr. Murdock said, exasperated. “Knock it off. You love each other. We get it.”

Kirsten shook with giggles.

“I’d drown you in the open ocean and then kill myself,” Matt said through gritted teeth. His nose was maybe an inch from his brother’s.

Michael just beamed.

“Aw, babe. You’d do that for me?” he gushed.

“HHhhh—”

“Maitiú.”

Sam had never heard someone said ‘Matthew’ this way. It was delightful. It made Matt’s shoulders go stiff as a board and then squirm in barely contained fury.

“Thank you,” Mr. Murdock said. “Drop ‘im.”

Matt didn’t want to, but he released his grip on his sibling. Michael slipped down and then caught himself and straightened himself out.

“Well, I’ll never,” he said. “We come all this way to visit you on your deathbed and—”

“I’m not dying,” Matt said.

“—you worry Dad sick for months on end. Don’t call. Don’t write. He thought the Californians had eaten you—"

“—I told him that it was a dislocation and I’m fine—”

“—and of course I told him, ‘no Dad, there ain’t any more cannibals in California than there are in New York’ but who listens to Mike, huh?”

Mr. Murdock had only been in the house for 15 minutes and he already looked exhausted.

“Where are the dogs?” he asked Foggy.

 ---

 This was the weirdest time-out session Sam had ever experienced and he’d decided that he was living for it. Mr. Murdock went out onto the deck and locked himself out there with the dogs. Matt and his brother had never been more guilty.

Quickly the arguing turned towards scheming, which turned towards climbing out a window, which turned towards getting stuck on the roof and pleading with the Father to lend a hand.

Mr. Murdock observed Matt sobbing with laughter over Mike’s sudden anxiety of stepping from the roof to the deck’s arm railing with only hollowness.

“Mike’s not very super,” Sam pointed out to Kirsten.

“Nope,” she said brightly. “He is refreshingly normal,” she said. “Even the conman part.”

The what?

 ---

 Matt climbed off the roof with ease and took the opportunity to finally give his old man a hug, which Mr. Murdock seemed to appreciate. He smoothed a giant mitt of a hand through Matt’s hair tenderly, like he was a baby.

It was kind of cute.

Mike scowled at them both and announced that he was pretty fine, by the way. He’d just stay there on the roof until the vultures got him.

“Matt’s the younger twin,” Foggy told Sam cheerfully. “He can do no wrong.”

Sam felt like he could suddenly see the forest for the trees.

“And Mike?” he asked.

Foggy snickered.

“He and Jack live together to keep each other in good cardiac shape,” he said. “They drive each other nuts.”

“But they still live together?” Sam clarified.

“Yeah,” Foggy said. “Mike’s what happens when you give a used-car salesman ever so slightly too much brain. He travels all over. Gets shot at and held hostage a lot. He’ll do just about anything for a couple bucks, no matter how hard Jack’s tried to get him to go straight over the years.”

“And Mr. Murdock? He doesn’t mind his son living with him?” Sam asked.

Kirsten and Foggy softened.

“Matt used to check on him more when we lived back home,” Foggy said. “Without him and Mike, Jack’s by himself. He’s got friends and work, yeah, but you know. If it weren’t for Mike, he’d come home to an empty apartment every night. Man’s got too much head trauma for that to be any kind of good. Mike looks after him—probably more than he lets anyone else. He’s too stubborn to let Matt try to help him.”

Aw, cute.

“Be prepared, Sammy,” Foggy said. “Jack’s already adopted you.”

Say what now?

 ---

 Mr. Murdock didn’t outright say that Sam was puny and he was going to fix it, but Sam could see it in his disappointed gaze.

“Don’t like bread?” he asked as Sam chewed his way through an Uncrustable at the kitchen table. Sam froze with the sandwich in hand. He stared at it.

It was bread.

Surely, this was bread.

Right?

“Uh?” he tried.

“Don’t like the crusts?” Mr. Murdock asked him more gently.

Oh.

“I don’t mind them, these are premade though. You know, convenient,” Sam explained.

He got a stare impossible to read.

“Stay there,” Mr. Murdock decided.

It took too long for Sam’s brain to work out what had just happened, and by the time it had, it was too late. Matt stuck his head in the room and asked Sam why he’d told his dad that Matt was starving him.

Sam floundered and tried to explain the sandwiches. Matt absorbed this and rolled his whole head.

“Well, now he’s makin’ a week’s worth for you,” he sighed. “Wants you to eat the crust.”

Dude.

“It’s easier not to question it,” Matt sighed. “What kind of jelly do you want?”

 ---

 Matt didn’t interrogate his father, but Mike did. Unrepentantly. He walked in as Sam was emphasizing that he didn’t want any kind of jelly and he’d make his own sandwiches and understood the entire situation faster than Sam could have possibly explained it.

“FATHER,” he roared. “Leave the boy alone, he’s not starvin’, he’s just short.”

Flattering. Thanks, asshole.

There was no response from the kitchen. Matt told Mike to ease off. Mr. Murdock was trying to be nice.

“There’s nice and then there’s rude,” Mike said.

“And you’re rude?” Matt offered.

There was a pause.

A warm hand found the space in between Sam’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry about both of ‘em, kid, they got rocks for brains, it ain’t their fault. Our grandfather was a caveman, you know how it is,” Mike said kindly.

Matt was not amused.

“It’s not a big deal,” he repeated. “I’ll eat ‘em if Sam doesn’t want ‘em.”

“And subject yourself to peanut butter hell for multiple days in a row, Maitiú?” Mike asked, scandalized.

Matt glared in the direction of the stairs.

“Some of us enjoy nut protein,” he said.

Sam blinked in shock as big hands slapped themselves over his ears.

“There are children present,” Mike hissed.

Sam found the guy’s middle fingers and yanked. Mike swore. Matt chuckled.

“He ain’t a baby,” he said fondly. “Sam’s a tough cookie.”

You’re damn right he was.

“Charming,” Mike grumbled as Matt abandoned them for the kitchen again. He scowled down at Sam. “What’s your gimmick then?” he asked.

Sam wondered if he could make his contacts come out by blinking slowly enough. It would be cool as fuck. It definitely wasn’t happening.

“I control typhoons,” he said.

Mike winced.

“Fuckin’ vigilantes,” he said.

 ---

 Mr. Murdock gave Sam a second sandwich. He’d cut it into quarters.

“Matt says you don’t like jelly,” he said. “Bananas are better?”

Sam couldn’t help but like him.

“Yeah. I don’t eat much bread generally,” he said. “My family has always been more about rice.”

Mr. Murdock analyzed him.

“I can do rice,” he said.

Bless. It was okay, really.

“Do you like spicy things, Mr. Murdock?” Sam asked.

“Jack.”

Nice try.

“Spicy?” Sam repeated.

Mr. Murdock considered it.

“Not sure,” he said. “You mean like hot sauce? I ain’t fuck with that ghost pepper shit.”

Sam hummed.

“Before you leave, I’ll cook for you in return,” he said. “I won’t make it too spicy, cross my heart.”

Mr. Murdock considered this and then got a look in his eye that made Sam’s cheeks start to ache a little.

 ---

 Matt told Sam to play nice. Matt told his father to play nice.

There was to be no hiding chilis in Mike’s pasta.

They were caught and scolded.

“Not to worry,” Mr. Murdock told Sam fondly, “There are other ways.”

 ---

 Sam had never seen such outrage over a knot in a shoelace. Matt crossed his arms over his chest, seconds away from tapping his own foot.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded Mike for the fourth time.

“I know what I said,” Mike snapped at him. He’d dug through all the kitchen drawers to procure a metal skewer to apply to this situation.

“We’re going to be late,” Matt said. “I wait for my guide, she doesn’t wait for me.”

“Well she’s waitin’ today,” Mike said. “I swear to god—”

Mr. Murdock stroked the top of Tuesday’s head and asked Mike if he’d tried putting baby powder on it. Mike spat at him to mind his own business and went back to the knot. He managed it get it untangled and the shoe half on just in time to find the second one stuck in the third hole down.

He just about vibrated with fury.

Matt sighed loudly.

“Borrow mine already,” he said.

“Never.”

“Mike.”

“They’re blue. This outfit tolerates only warm colors, Matthew. ONLY warms.”

“We’re late.”

“Style waits for no man.”

“Well, clearly that ain’t the case, is it?”

Mike stood up sharply.

“I’m going to change,” he said. “And whatever elf tied these will rue the day. Mark my words.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll tell the elf—oh, my bad, the clown, Mike. It’s you. Get your life together. We’re late.”

Hilarious.

 ---

  “Why don’t you move out here?” Sam asked Mr. Murdock as he watched Sam sand away at his latest secret project in Matt’s absence.

“Sun’ll kill me,” Mr. Murdock deadpanned.

“I thought so too, but it’s not so bad,” Sam said. “I miss the snow sometimes.”

Mr. Murdock cocked his head and then knelt down to take the sanding block out of Sam’s hands. He gestured for Sam to give him the hunk of wood in his hands, too.

“Matty says you don’t got papers,” he said.

Sam was surprised. Matt usually kept that secret locked tight. But Mr. Murdock didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to it.

“No,” Sam admitted. “My mom brought me here when I was really little. I didn’t know what it meant to overstay a visa.”

Mr. Murdock hummed.

“Makes flying tricky,” he said.

Yeah.

“Bus, not too bad, though?”

Mm. Bus was better, yes.

“Train?”

Depended on the train.

“Hm. Well, if you get homesick or need busfare, you just give a shout, ya hear? You’re always welcome to stay with us.”

Aww.

“Or if you really hate yourself, I’m sure Mike would love to come pick you up.”

Oh god.

“He can drive?” Sam asked.

Mr. Murdock paused and held his face in his dusty palm.

“The day he got his license was the worst day of my life,” he said.

Sam snickered.

“Did you guys drive all the way here?” he asked.

“No, thank god.”

“Can you drive?”

“Son.”

Sam looked up from the block of wood into Mr. Murdock’s hazel eyes.

“I take two steps out of New York and I’m gone, that’s me dead. No, I don’t drive. Why the hell would I drive? Where the hell am I goin’?”

Wow, mood.

“I tried to drive once,” Sam said. “Reversed into a fire hydrant. Matt laughed so hard he cried.”

Mr. Murdock handed back the woodblock. It was much smoother than it had been. Sam was chocking that up to the muscles and the practice.

 ---

 Matt and Mike got home and Mike announced that he was disowning that ‘putrid being’ that was the Swamp Monster beside him. Matt told Mr. Murdock that Mike didn’t approve of the swimming part of triathlon.

Mr. Murdock picked leaves out of his hair with supreme patience.

 ---

 “So Dad’s officially decided that you’re his grandson,” Mike informed Sam out of nowhere that Sunday. “He prayed for you at church today.”

Sam almost dropped his wrench. That was so endearing his teeth hurt.

“It’s ‘cause I do woodwork,” he said. “He can smell the handyman on me.”

Mike cocked his head to the side. His eyes were blue like Matt’s. Their mom must have had blue eyes—or maybe hazel like Mr. Murdock’s.

“No,” Mike said. “It’s ‘cause he’s also been a grocery bagger, a janitor, and a contractor.”

He what now?

“He wants to know why you aren’t in college.”

Oh. well—

“Matt tried to explain, but you know, it ain’t clickin’. He don’t get the politics part of things sometimes. Gets confused why people make such a big deal when there’s obvious solutions in front of ‘em. It’s not all his fault, he barely got a highschool diploma back when ‘critical thinking’ wasn’t even a testing category. Anyways, he wants you to go to college. Thinks you’re too smart to be pushin’ paper.”

Sam was going to cry.

“I think he sees a lot of Matt in you,” Mike said with a squint. “So just as a warning, he’s unbearable. Always—well, no. More like 95% of the year. He’s alright around New Years when he’s tired. You can tell him to fuck off at any time, though.”

No, no. It was okay. It was nice to have…more family. That’s what it was.

“I hope you know what this means, Samuel,” Mike said.

Mmm no?

Mike’s hand clasped his shoulder.

“You can call me ‘uncle,’” he said.

Ah.

No, thanks.

 ---

 Foggy and Kirsten couldn’t look at Sam without bursting into merciless laughter, which Sam had realized was a result of Mike’s vocal distress at his rejected offer of uncle-dom. Sam didn’t know what to tell him.

Mr. Murdock was nice. Enormous, yes, but very well meaning and gentle. His and Sam’s priorities and experience in life aligned neatly and Sam was slightly charmed by the way that he expressed himself verbally only to Matt and Mike.

Sam also didn’t hate Mike. He just didn’t want him to have uncle privileges. He didn’t see what was difficult about this.

“Mike’s got a history of rejection,” Foggy said. “And by that, I mean that every woman on the eastern seaboard has rejected him and he tries anyways.”

 ---

 Matt came downstairs and told Sam to ignore everything Mike said to him all day. He also said that they were going out that night, so don’t burn fingers on the soldering iron.

Sam saluted in acknowledgement.

Forty minutes later there was a rap at his door followed by Mike saying through it that he wanted to show Sam something.

Sam did not open the door.

He heard Matt’s name being cursed on the other side.

 ---

 Twenty minutes later there was another knock, this time with Mike saying that Mr. Murdock wanted to bond with Sam.

Sam nudged open his curtains and squinted hard into the backyard where he could see the vague shape of Matt chatting to his dad on the deck stairs, both apparently having a beer and shooting the shit.

This was a scam.

Sam would not be scammed.

He went back to the suit.

There was more cursing outside the door.

 ---

 About half an hour later, there was a knock, followed by Mr. Murdock’s voice this time, asking Sam if his shoes were supposed to be on the front porch.

They were not.

This was playing dirty.

Sam ventured out to go right this wrong and ended up outside on the front porch with the conman himself. Mike closed the door after him triumphantly and proceeded to get them both locked out.

“Are you supposed to be a good conman or?” Sam asked.

Mike gaped at him.

“The best conman,” he said. “Don’t worry, kid, I’ve broken into a thousand houses and won two horses. I’ve got this.”

That was not comforting. Sam was not comforted.

“First, we gotta test all the windows, and, failing that, we get a rock or a gun,” Mike told him with a knowing finger.

Sam blinked at it and then up at Mike. The man’s shoulders twitched.

“Uh?” Mike said.

Ah. The eyes. No contacts today.

“Do you like them? They’re Prada,” Sam said to absolute silence.

“A brick,” Mike announced abruptly. “A brick works too. Like a rock but bigger.”

Okay, so they weren’t talking about it, gotcha. Look, a whole family’s worth of repression styles. Sam was glad that they had a full set of methods.

 ---

 Sam broke into his own bedroom through the window. Mike clapped for him outside. Sam opted to leave him there.

 ---

 He was sort of sad to see the Murdocks go, especially after seeing the effect that the most senior of them had on Matt.

Sam hadn’t seen him this chilled out. He visibly relaxed under his dad’s hand on the back of his neck. He tolerated the fussing and constant hair fixing and the fingers brushing at his cheeks and elbows. Mr. Murdock guided him with the same practiced ease that Foggy and Kirsten did, but his guiding was accompanied by a quiet, ongoing commentary about the street around them, which Sam hadn’t actually heard Foggy do in the same kind of way.

It was like Mr. Murdock was telling Matt a story everywhere they went.

He told him when there were flags hanging up a story above, waving in the wind. He told him about the hanging wire baskets of flowers that Sam forgot about. He huffed a bit while he talked about lines of traffic in the street and a vast lack of color in the group due to the absence of so many yellow cabs.

Mr. Murdock of course, had been Matt’s first ever guide. It only made sense that he had a specialized style of it, just for Matt.

And for Matt’s sake, Sam didn’t want him to go, but alas, New Yorkers, man. The city called them back to the coast like a siren.

“You take it easy, y’hear, kiddo?” Mr. Murdock told him at the airport.

Sam smiled and said that he’d try.

“Take care of yourself. I mean that. Out at night too.”

Copy that, big guy.

“Give us a hug.”

Oh??? A hug??? Sam loved hugs. Hugs were great. He was—er. Leaving this one with double the ribs from the cracks apparently.

Mr. Murdock released him to go break Matt in half and then Foggy and then Kirsten. Mike told him that he couldn’t avoid flying again by hugging people. He also warned Kirsten that he’d see her soon and that then, she was sure to fall for his charms.

Kirsten said that she would be waiting with bated breath, and then that was it. Three Murdocks again whittled down to one.

“God, I should have married your dad,” Foggy moaned.

Matt laughed at him.

“He’s plenty busy avoiding the gaze of every person over sixty in his building. Let him live,”  he said. “Sam? Not too traumatized, I hope?”

Mm. Not so bad.

“Are you sure Mike’s your brother?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

Too bad.

“It’s fine, if we ever need a guy to distract the police, we’ve got him on retainer.”

That was true.

“They’ll come back?” Sam asked.

Matt paused before feeling for his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll go to them. I think you’d enjoy watching them in their natural environment.”

 -----------

Hope that’s something for you anon!! I also hope you feel better!

[siuilaruinofthegale]

Fic Writer Review

i was tagged by ye olde devil @snickiebear

1. How many do you have on Ao3?

uhhhhh. *checks* 6. We don’t talk about the ones that are more than five years old, though.

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2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

...embarrassing, tbh. 438,632 words.

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3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

how many have I written for, or how many have I published for?

if the latter: Naruto, Mass Effect, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Harry Potter

if the former: Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Game of Thrones, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Naruto, ATLA, World of Warcraft, The Hunger Games, Star Wars (sequel trilogy), Avengers, and....... I think that’s it.

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4. What are your top 5 five by kudos?

lmao i barely have 5 so i’m just gonna list the four that don’t make me want to hide from all existence

- melodies of the warborn, 379 kudos

- red strings & lilac skies, 236 kudos

- Who Holds The Devil, 97 kudos

- ethics & odd wings, 72 kudos

.

cutting here because i realized how long this gonna be

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?  

I try to respond to each and every one..... except for the hate mail. that gets promptly binned. my lag time on replying to some comments is legendary but so far the only one(s) i haven’t responded to are the ones where someone comments saying “DO THIS YOU NEED TO DO THIS”. there’s a difference between “I would love it if you did this” and “you HAVE to do this” and what i’m talking about are the latter.

i don’t respond well to orders.

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6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

*muffled snorts of laughter* yeah, uh, about that, i....... have only actually finished one of the multi-chapter fics i’ve posted on ao3. so technically rs&ls wins by default because it’s the only one with an ending.

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7. Do you write crossovers?

i’ve been known to dabble here and there but most of it is self-indulgent nonsense drabbles that’ll never see the light of day

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8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

i got one (1) rude review from A Known Troll on rs&ls. presumably they go through the kakasaku tag periodically and talk shit. i laughed at it until my stomach hurt and then i deleted it. don’t feed the trolls.

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9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yes. and..... what do you mean what kind??

like do you mean what kind of participants does it involve? or what kind of detail i go into?? one night stands vs relationship smut?? kink smut or vanilla smut?

i’ve only ever written f/m smut, being that that is where i have experience to draw on, but i will be trying my hand at some gayer smut soon, i think.

i try not to go too detailed but i am VIGILANT about where hands and legs go. there will be no magically appearing and disappearing limbs in MY smut.

also i will write anything at least once. most of what i’ve written is probably fairly vanilla, and most of it is... if not within the confines of a romantic relationship, within the confines of a friendship

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10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nop. let me know if you see someone posting me stuff elsewhere, the only place i post these days is Ao3 because FFN is circling the drain and also i can’t remember my FFN password

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11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

NOP

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

perchance.

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13. What is your all time favorite ship?

*dodgy eyes* in what fandom?? i have too many fandoms for this to be an easy question to answer!

...i’ll just answer for the fandoms i’ve posted for.

Naruto: KakaSaku (don’t @ me)

ATLA: Zutara (don’t @ me)

Mass Effect: S H A K A R I A N  TRASH

HP: Dramione (don’t @ me)

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14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

joke’s on you, m8, i plan on finishing everything...... some day.

there are a few things i started literally ages ago -- like, 10+ years ago -- that i’ll likely never pick back up, and some of them were cool concepts, but.... that’s life.

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15. What are your writing strengths?

uhhhHHHH. I don’t actually know what I’m strong at, so I’m just gonna list the things people tell me I’m good at.

- dialogue! apparently it’s Very Relatable and realistic

- accurately depicting neurodivergent people (gee i wonder how i managed that)

- making things feel very vivid and palpable, especially in emotionally charged scenes

- writing kids who act their age instead of like mini adults

- poetic turns of phrase out of the blue

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16. What are your writing weaknesses?

description. how much is too much? should i go lavish? people read Tolkien describing trees for three pages. can i get away with describing a dress for half a page??

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17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

UHHHHH that’s a weird question. most of the dialogue i’ve written in ‘a different language’ for a fic is from a conlang (elvhen) so i don’t fuss too much over that. other than that, I do try to avoid it, or to keep the phrases something short that google translate isn’t likely to fuck up. if i was going to do anything more than like “where’s the bathroom” i’d find a native speaker to help me.

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18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

.....just like Snickie, I, too, first wrote for X-Men. specifically, Evolution. the fic(s) are still out there... on the internet... with their self-indulgent self-insert Mary Sues......

i was twelve, leave me be

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?  

anyone who goes here (here being my blog) knows the answer to this.

RED STRINGS AND LILAC SKIES

i don’t fuckin care if people think smut is gross. i think this story is art. i fucking love it and i am SO proud of it. i dead-ass bugged the boy about it until he read it and he’s never seen an episode of Naruto in his life and he thought it was good. i know it’s considered blase to like your own work but i think rs&ls is HELLA good.

I will not apologize for it, either.

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tagging... @stsathyre @thornspun @nekophiliaff @favouritequeeronthecitadel

feel free to tag yo’self if this looks interestin to you, just tag me in it so i can creep on you... in a loving way.

[starrynite7114]

things you never knew: four

A/N: Good afternoon! It’s been quite some time since I last posted! I’ve been trying to write multiple things so that I can have somewhat of a set schedule, but that is not working out for me. I’m really excited to bring the next chapter for this story. Things are picking up, hopefully you all will enjoy the ride!

Thank you for all the likes, comments and follows! It is really great to see those notifications!

Also, if you would like to be added on the tagged list for this particular story or just in general, please leave a comment or message me! I’m making my way through my requests, so hopefully I’ll have those up soon!

TYNK: Characters one : two : three

Word count: 6714

Masterlist

Request list

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​​​ : @ifoundmyhappythought​​​ : @carlaangel86​​​ : @marvelmaree​​​ : @woahitslucyylu​​​ : @encounterthepast​​​ : @enamoured-x​​​ : @whyisgmora​​​ : @briana-mishell24​​​ : @bribri-82​​​ : @briannab1234​​​ : @chibsytelford​​​ : @agirllovespasta​​​ : @twistnet​​​ : @everyhowlmarksthedead​​​ : @trulysuccubus​​​ : @jadert15​​​ : @sammskellington​​​ : @cind-in-real-life​​​ : @mheart27​​​ : @claytoncardenasbabymama​​​ : @sadeyesgf​​​ : @thickemadame​​​ : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass​​​ : @gemini0410​​​ : @robbosugdens​​​ : @elcococruz​​​ : @samcrobae​​​ : @sesamepancakes​​ : @iambabyharry​ : @blackmissfrizzle​​

Credit to original gif creator!

Ailee watched as Angel walked out of the office of the scrapyard, making his way back to the clubhouse. The screens in front of her gave her access to all the cameras surrounding the Romero Brothers Scrapyard. It’s been three years since she left and it didn’t even look like anything changed. She saw Coco at the picnic table, eating some McDonald’s while Gilly sat next to him, reading some newspaper. 

“You know you could go see them.” Olivia sat beside her. It always amazed her how Ailee never flinched when she came behind her. Ailee also has never thrown a weapon towards her, which she was also marveled by and thankful for. She had skills, but she wouldn’t be able to outdo Ailee when it came to weapons specialization, thanks to Theo’s rigorous training if she could even call it that.

“Too much time has passed.” Ailee always had dreams of going back to Santo Padre, coming back to Angel, but she knew too much time had passed. He never replied to her letters. No emails, no text messages, no calls. She could have reached out to him, and she tried, but no reply ever came.

Maybe it was the clean break he wanted. 

She could be exhausting at times, she understood. 

Everyone always left her. 

No one ever stayed for her. 

Anyone who did stay, it was due to her worth for their cause, never just for her. 

“He asks about you all the time.” Olivia knew the internal struggle that Ailee was having, how much she wished to be back in Santo Padre. Where her nightmares were kept at bay. It was insane for Olivia how attached Angel and Ailee were to one another. They were one another’s life line. They were both a shell of what they used to be and it was quite apparent. 

“Did you ever ask him about the letters?”

“He never received them.”

What a lie.

“Of course not.” Ailee exited the surveillance, all of the screens turning black.

“I know how this looks, but come on Lee, Angel would never do that to you.” Olivia felt helpless at times. Sometimes, she didn’t recognize Ailee and it frightened her. The way she was able to turn off emotions as she did, it was eerie. Whenever she went on an assignment, no matter the length, Ailee turned into someone different. The way her eyes appeared blank, the way she moved and killed with such ease, she turned into the one thing she feared. 

But she no longer cared.

Her family took everything away from her, with the exception of her brother’s. But they were guilty as Theo and Jin. They stood at the side and let it happen. Olivia always tried to keep Ailee grounded, and the only time she broke out of her stupor was when she was with Melody. 

The one thing she had to keep whatever part of her soul that was still around. Alexander definitely helped as well, but she didn’t know how much more Ailee could take. There were times that she wanted to tell Angel where Ailee was, that she wasn’t in jail. The guilt ate him up and she could see that. 

“Ailee, you’ve given so much to Maquina, maybe it’s time for you to step back. Go home.”

The intercom sounded, the tone of xylophone being played rang through the compound. 

‘Hudson Elite please make your way to Conference Room A. Hudson Elite please make your way to Conference a Room A.’

Ailee and Olivia looked at one another. Ailee picked up her guns, slipping then behind her onto the gun holster. 

“I don’t have a home.”

Angel walked into Templo, surprised to see John and Vince Rivera. After the revelation three days ago, the last thing he wanted was to see Ailee’s brothers. He wanted to fucking see Ailee, but everytime he passed by, her dipshit dildo was always there. As much as he wanted to speak to Ailee, he knew his temper wouldn’t be able to take having that prick there. 

Alexander Leon. 

What a stupid ass fucking name.

Once everyone was there, John and Vince flanked either side of Bishop. He knew this could be a mistake, if Angel and Creeper knew how much he knew, how involved he was in this whole ordeal with Ailee, it would change a few things. He didn’t expect them to understand, but he did what he had to do for his family.

The Mayans looked at the folder in front of their seats, before eyeing the two curiously. John and Vince weren’t even sure why they were willing to share all this information with the Mayans, but they figured it was about time. Keeping them in the dark was never their wish however, they didn’t want to argue with Jin. He always reasoned with them that this was what Ailee needed, to be with her family. Keeping her in Santo Padre would provoke Theo to make a move and it would further upset her if the Mayans were hurt. 

They went with that reasoning, but they saw the changes in Ailee and it was hardly ideal. While Melody helped reel her in, they didn’t want to take any chances. If Theo was at the border, they needed help from outside resources to try and control the situation before it got out of hand. Hopefully, they wouldn’t even need to worry about any trouble. 

Hopefully, Theo was still in Eastern Europe. 

“Thank you for letting us come to your,” John paused, trying to find the appropriate words to describe Templo, “private sanctuary.”

They all looked at him and he shrugged. “Sue me, this isn’t exactly a conference room.” That earned him a few chuckles. Angel eyed Ailee’s brothers curiously, harboring some ill feelings towards them due to their cold shoulder towards him as well. He reached out to them, to ask what happened to Ailee, but they never returned his calls or anything.

They could go fuck themselves.

Her whole family, with the exception of Creeper could absolutely fuck themselves. 

Creeper made his way in, arm in a sling due to the incident that occurred during their run to Vegas. Vince eyed his cousin curiously, slightly chuckling. 

“Creep, do we even want to know what happened?” Vince questioned. 

“Got shot at primo, not much of a story.” Creeper shrugged. “So, you want to tell us what is going on?”

“Please open your folders gentlemen.” John instructed. “In front of you are Hudson Elite’s members, a team that is considered as the best of the best in Maquina. The team is led by Ailee and her second in command, Janine. The other team members are Andrew, Oscar and someone you all know well, Olivia. You may be wondering why we are disclosing such high profiled information to you all. Simple, we have a possible threat at the border and we may be in need of your assistance.” 

The Mayans men went through the folder, Ailee had light brown hair in her picture, her eyes appeared darker, but her eyes held no emotions. All the members had no smiles on their faces and what caught their eyes were Olivia. Her usual bubbly, perky smile was long gone. They looked like mug shots. 

“The fuck, it is Liv.” Gilly lifted her picture and sure enough, it was Olivia. 

Angel cussed under his breath, unsure of how to break it to his younger brother that Olivia was a part of some underground organization. But he figured he should speak to Olivia first since she would most likely want to be the one to tell Ezekiel. 

Everything was just so fucked up.

“Wait, Olivia is part of Maquina?” Bishop didn’t know that Olivia was part of Maquina. Her job was always ambiguous and he never pushed her, but to see it in front of him, things made sense. She was elusive as Ailee, but he knew she wasn’t a field agent. She didn’t have the scars, the blank stare that most killers had. 

It didn’t escape the members that Bishop knew the name of the organization. But too much information was being thrown at them for it to even register. 

“Olivia is Ailee’s IT specialist, she also heads our IT department at Maquina.” Vince answered. 

“Wait, what threat? What the fuck is a Maquina?” Coco was confused. He heard of rumors of a secret government agency that was recruiting while he was in the Marines, but he thought that everyone was losing their mind since war could do that to you. Ailee’s record was what bugged him. Two hundred and fifty-three confirmed kills. Her second in command, Janine had one hundred and seventy-five confirmed kills. He studied each of their profiles and they were stone cold killers with the exception of Olivia. No confirmed kills under her, but her accolades spoke for themselves.

But none of the Mayans could believe it.

Ailee, the sweet young girl that was attached to Angel’s hip. The one who would bring them food every once in a while since she knew they were lazy and rarely cooked. The one who would tend to their wounds whenever they came home wounded. They always knew there was something off with Ailee’s family, but this was just ridiculous. 

An underground organization?

This was too much like those Hollywood films.

“Maquina is a government agency that is not known to the public cause we technically do not exist. We’re a loophole to diplomacy. Our assignments or actions do not require congress approval. A council is made up of unbiased individuals that are able to put politics and personal preferences aside for the better of the common good.” John explained.

“With the common good being whatever benefited the US and their allies.” Vince added.

John shot his brother a look who held up his hands. “Point being, we try to keep the balance of power in the world to prevent unnecessary wars. Our agents are handpicked from the CIA, FBI, and various other law enforcement agencies.”

“Or you bore and bred them.” Angel added. 

Vince and John looked at Angel, not surprised by his comment. Bishop just shook his head, knowing his resident hothead always took Ailee’s involvement into account. 

“What does this have to do with anything?” Gilly studied their records and the members of just Ailee’s team looked serious enough. Their accolades spoke for themselves, but none of them could believe Ailee’s. 

Two hundred and fifty-three confirmed kills.

“You wanted to know if Ailee was in jail and the answer was, she wasn’t. Uncle Jin offered her a position in Maquina in exchange for her freedom.” Vince explained. 

“And you let your sister sell her soul?” Angel scoffed.

“Well, we weren’t the ones who stupidly placed illegal weapons and drugs in her coffee shop.” Vince retorted. 

Bishop gave Angel a look. “Don’t get up.” The authority in his voice kept Angel in his seat. 

“Look, we’re not here to argue about why my sister is where she is now, you had questions, we have answers. If we’re going to strike up a temporary partnership, we figured that it would be best to be as honest as we can be.” John knew of Angel’s temper. It was what marveled him about Ailee’s attraction to Angel. She was always cool, calm, collected, hardly rattled. But Angel was her opposite and he figured that opposites attract. 

“Your uncle bailed her out, he must have wanted something in return, besides becoming a part of this organization.” Riz shuffled through the files. 

“You turned her into the perfect killer.” Hank commented, shaking his head. He himself was recruited by Jin, but he declined, wanting to stay a part of the Mayans. Jin liked his brutality and that he had no qualms when it came to killing people.

It was one of the qualities Maquina sought after. The more skewed your moral compass was, the better. 

John and Vince didn’t like the comment Hank made, but they essentially did. They didn’t make any effort to stop their uncle nor were they able to save her from Theo. At times, they felt that they failed Ailee, but when they would see how she was with Melody, they had hoped that the old Ailee was still there. The old Ailee who was frightened by the dark and always ran to their rooms when the lights would cut off. The old Ailee who would hold their hand whenever there was a needle near her. The old Ailee who would sleep on their beds when she had a nightmare and just wanted her big brothers to protect her. 

“My uncle offered her immunity if she chose to join Maquina. Ailee made her choice on her own accord, she’s an adult.” John ignored Hank’s comments. It was better to not answer, because they didn’t have anything to say about that. Cause they did. They really turned her into a perfect killer. 

“You mean he twisted her arm.” Taza knew of the situation and the way he saw it, Jin made sure that Ailee had no other choice. Relive her nightmare with Theo, rot in prison, or join Maquina. Though, he was certain she chose to rot in prison. “What were the terms?”

“Uncle Jin offered Ailee to come to Maquina, and he would get all of her charges dropped. In exchange, she would work for Maquina for x amount of years.” John didn’t need to disclose every detail of Ailee’s deal with Jin. “My uncle didn’t want Theo to sink his claws into her as he’s done before.” 

“Thought Theo was a non-factor.” Bishop chimed in. 

“He is, but we didn’t want to take our chances. If he utilized Ailee as he intended to do so, then it presents trouble for a few people.” 

“You make Lee sound like she’s the terminator.” Coco scoffed, still in disbelief that Ailee had this many kills. “This could be fabricated.” 

“Could be, but I’m sure you’ll encounter this side of her soon. Seeing is believing.” Vince shrugged. “My sister has photographic memory, just like your brother.” Vince looked over at Angel. “Theo wanted Ailee to infiltrate certain weapons companies and to memorize their blueprints for certain weapons, so that he could eliminate the competition.” 

“You expect us to believe this?” Riz wasn’t sure what to make out of this, much like his brother’s they were in disbelief. In a world where government agencies seem to be on one side and the so called bad guys were on the other side, seeing the gray area was a bit unnerving. 

“Well, this is quite an elaborate scheme, don’t you think?” John sighed. “Is there anything else?”

“You staged her prison release.” Creeper stated. He felt like an idiot for not connecting it earlier. He wasn’t exactly familiar with the details of Maquina, but he knew a few things from his conversations with John and Vince. He also may have eavesdropped on Jin and his brother William when they would talk about certain missions. All he knew, they had connections and if they wanted to do so, Ailee’s record could be erased with ease. 

Hell, all of their records could be erased.

“Yes, Uncle Jin thought it would be a good idea to have her officially be released.” Vince never understood why the Mayans had to be kept in the dark. They didn’t need to know about Maquina, but they should have at least been told that Ailee was released all those years ago.

“What did he do to her?” Angel chimed in, pushing his anger the best he could. He had to get information from Ailee’s brothers, he had to play it cool. They had answers and he wanted them. 

John and Vince knew that Angel was asking about Theo and not Jin. 

“Those six months, I don’t know what happened, but when she came back, she was different. The scars, the broken arm, how jumpy she became, and the nightmares.” He looked up at them. He knew they knew about the nightmares because he spoke to them often about it. She would thrash in bed, getting this frightened look in her eyes as she would push him away. It became so often that Angel figured out how to calm her down so she would see him and not whatever vicious nightmare she was having. “What the fuck did he do to her?” 

“We don’t know the full details, just that he wanted to,” John paused, closing his eyes as he recalled finding his sister with an inch of her life. It was haunting and it still haunted him to this day. The way Theo left her barely breathing, it angered them so. She was lying in a pool of her own blood in a daze. They weren’t sure if her body was in shock or this was how badly Theo broke her. “He wanted to perfect Ailee, that’s all she would tell us.”

“What is the threat you may need help with?” Bishop questioned. As much as he wanted to go down memory lane and discuss just how much Ailee changed, he wanted the two men to get to the point.

“Theo Kane has been making noise in Mexico, providing weapons for certain cartels. The American government wants us to get rid of Theo before he acquires any power that would make him a threat. Ailee has been assigned to investigate Theo’s possible connections in Mexico. We figured that you can help Ailee by giving her access to your tunnels.” Vince explained. “In the event he does have connections in Mexico, she would need to make it across the border inconspicuously.” 

“He was such a small player and from my understanding, he’s not allowed on US soil.” Bishop wasn’t sure what the play here was, they had no reason to be in Santo Padre over a hunch. He knew what kind of damage Maquina could cause and that was the last thing he needed with the cartel and everything else going on. 

“And that he is however, if you make the right connection, you can become a big player quite quickly. Theo has somehow convinced some European governments that he’s not as psychotic as his father, but that’s all a hoax.” John let out a frustrated sigh. He should have taken care of his half-brother when he killed his father. It was two birds with one stone, but the council was very adamant that the son should not pay for his father’s sins. 

But he should have paid since he was going to continue his father’s legacy.

Theo’s father was once a well respected weapons manufacturer that had huge government contracts due to the efficiency and accuracy of his weapons of destroying its target and the high kill rate. But governments did not like to share their weaponry with their enemies and Theo’s father became far too confident in his invisibility and made a mistake. He sold weapons to the Russian army, which made him an enemy. And he may have also been involved in an assassination attempt on a European royal. 

Regardless, Theo’s father was excommunicated and the kill order went out that had to be carried out by Maquina. 

John was the one to take on the assignment. 

And he killed Theo’s father. 

“So that’s all you need? The use of the tunnels?” Bishop knew there must be something else, it seemed too simple.

“Yes, just the tunnels, we can handle everything else.” John looked at Vince. “Ailee will be sniffing around, but she seems adamant that she has no plans on meeting with any of you, or involving you. Ailee was brought here to protect you all as well.”

“What? Protect us?” Hank scoffed at the idea. “Why would we need her protection?” None of them could let the idea sink in that she was this government agent that was right under their nose. That she killed more people than all of them combined. 

“If Theo is here, he’ll target you all first due to your connection with Ailee. Uncle Jin wants to assure that no collateral damage will occur due to Theo’s obsession with our sister. He knows how to twist our sister.” 

“And how is that?” Riz questioned.

“Angel, his move is going to be Angel.” Creeper sighed. “How did you all let this happen? You never wanted Ailee to become a part of Maquina. That you weren’t going to let your parents despicable actions dictate her life?” Creeper knew how much the three Rivera’s hated what their parents pushed them to be. Killing wasn’t for everyone, and they adapted for survival. 

“We didn’t, but Uncle Jin reasoned that it was best for Ailee. That we shouldn’t let her talents go to waste.” John felt like an idiot for using that reasoning since he himself never believed in it. 

“Killing people is a talent?” Angel had enough of her brother’s bullshit. They hardly answered anything and left them with more questions. “You two are just like your uncle, just like Theo, you always tried to dictate Ailee’s life instead of thinking of what was best for her.”

“And what was best for her Ignacio? To live in Santo Padre with you, happily ever after?” Vince clicked his tongue, his disapproval evident. “We always liked you for our sister, but at the end of the day, much like you recognized that Ezekiel’s future was outside of Santo Padre, so was hers.” 

“No, it was never about me. It was what she wanted, she wanted to stay in Santo Padre, I didn’t want her to stay either, I recognized that too, but Ailee wanted to stay here and if that’s what she wanted, that was fine with me. Because unlike you mother fuckers, I actually love her.”

John caught Vince when he rushed towards Angel. “Fuck you Reyes! You don’t know half the shit we’ve done for our sister!” John held his younger brother back, as Angel remained seated, chuckling at his words. 

“Settle down,” John pushed Vince back, narrowing his eyes at his younger brother. “Control yourself.” John faced the Mayans again. “Look, Theo was coming for her too. He visited her often during those two weeks, risking the ban that was thrusted upon him by the US government. He was trying to butter her up, apologize for his actions towards her all those years ago.” John remembered when he ran into Theo outside of the prison. He greeted him warmly, thanked him for killing his father. It was eerie, but he knew there was something hidden there. “Theo or Uncle Jin would have never let her rot in jail, so she picked the lesser of two evils as she put it. She would never want to go back to Theo after what happened.”

“So he did twist her arm.” Taza chuckled, shaking his head. 

“The guy who is attached to your sister, who is he?” Gilly questioned, knowing any of Angel’s questions would cause the tension in the room to increase.

“A childhood friend of hers.” Vince kept it simple, he wanted to get the fuck out of here. Angel was getting on his last nerve since he was fucking right. They did this to Ailee and it was always her choice to stay here. 

“Not her boyfriend?” Gilly continued.

“No, my sister doesn’t do relationships, but believe me, he’s been trying his best to make it happen.” Vince threw a smug look towards Angel. “Guess you’re not the only option she has.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Alright, alright, we will let you discuss whether or not you’ll let Ailee use the tunnels. We’ll give you 500K a week for the inconvenience.” 

“500 thousand dollars to use tunnels?” Bishop looked at John like he was insane. 

“You’re doing us a favor, we take good care of people who help us.” John shrugged. “It was nice seeing you all gentlemen, hope you’ll stop by my sister’s coffee shop.”

With that said, John and Vince walked out, leaving the Mayans to discuss what their next step would be.

==============

Olivia sighed as she took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes. She’s been working on some freelance work since Maquina was quite stable in Europe right now. She finished programming this new app for a Netherlands based company regarding facial recognition. Finishing up the schematics, she sent it over for further development. She wasn’t heading the team and she much preferred it that way.

The coffee shop was now fully functioning, the grand opening was two days ago. She was surprised how many people came to the grand opening, but she figured they remembered Ailee when she was here a few years back. The knock on her door made her look at the clock as it was nearing midnight. EZ had a key to her place and so did Ailee, so it couldn’t be them. Getting the gun she had hidden at a secret compartment in the kitchen, the other two were in her room and bathroom, she made her way to the door. She looked through the peephole and it was Emily Galindo. Sliding the gun at the waistband of her jeans at the back, she opened the door.

“Emily, what are you doing here?” Emily walked past her. She looked distraught. Before she could close the door, someone cleared her throat. She looked back and it was Miguel. “Sorry Miguel.”

“No offense taken,” he gave her a tight smile, following his wife inside. 

“Please, sit down.” Olivia instructed them to sit on the couches. “What has brought you two here?”

“We need your help.” Emily immediately replied. She closed her eyes, Miguel placing a hand over hers. 

“We apologize for coming at such a late hour.” Miguel placed his hand on Emily's obvious distraught in her demeanor made Olivia antsy. She knew Emily due to EZ and Miguel due to a few freelance work she did for him. “As my wife said, we need your help with finding our son. We know of your ability with technology and hoped that you might be able to help us locate our son.”

Olivia heard of their son’s disappearance even though Miguel worked hard to keep it on the low. But then again, Maquina kept an eye on everything. They were sure Miguel’s son’s kidnapping would cause an uproar, so they were monitoring the situation. 

“Your son has been taken?” Olivia tried her best to pretend that she had no knowledge of what was going on. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, we were hoping you could use a software program you have to use the CCTV cameras to try and locate him.” Miguel suggested.

Olivia nodded her head. “My computer here wouldn’t be able to do it, but I can do it first thing in the morning when I get to my office.” She offered. 

“Yes, of course, we understand. Any help is greatly appreciated. If it is any help, it seems the rebel group Los Olvidados took my son.” Miguel was doing all the talking as Emily appeared to be in a daze. 

Olivia cussed in her head, knowing that this presented trouble. Ailee used the rebel group as a connection to Theo, but even Olivia knew that wasn’t possible. She implanted all the leads to get Maquina in Santo Padre in order to keep Melody protected.

“That definitely helps, thank you.” Emily mustered up a smile. 

Before anyone else could speak, her door opened and EZ walked in, face hardened by Miguel’s guards up front. They all stood up upon seeing EZ’s arrival. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed, but she wasn’t surprised that EZ was staying with Olivia, of course he was. 

“Ezekiel,” Miguel greeted. “We will be taking our leave, thank you again Olivia.” 

Ezekiel moved out of the way, his eyes trained on Olivia, not even moving once towards the Galindo’s. Once they were outside, EZ closed the door, leaving him and Olivia in the apartment.

“What the fuck was that?” EZ questioned.

“Is Cristobal safe?” She asked him, knowing of his newfound connections with the rebels. 

EZ sighed. “Yes, fuck, they asked you for help?”

“It won’t be difficult for me to track them down EZ.” Olivia warned him. “Tell Angel to talk to his girlfriend.”

“You know he’s not interested in Adelita, it’s a pure business relationship.” EZ knew his brother was still hung up on Ailee. No matter how hard his brother tried to move on, he held onto Ailee. Sure, he’s slept around, but he never became involved in another relationship. 

“Of course,” Oivia nodded her head. “I’m just saying, warn her, it’s not hard to track them as much as they would like to think so.”

“How can you even do this?” EZ somewhat understood what Olivia did for a living. She was a tech genius, that was one thing he knew for sure. Beyond that? He couldn’t really tell you. She always told him she did freelance work all over the world, making software and apps for various companies. Yet, she stayed in Santo Padre. Her apartment was beautiful, but he knew she could live in a five bedroom home with the works if she wanted to do so. 

When he was in Stockton, Olivia stayed nearby, living there till two years ago, when she moved back down to Santo Padre. It was good to see Olivia every day. She would tell him how she just visited Ailee and she would catch him up on her day. Truth be told, it was the only reason he was able to stay sane. Her daily visit was the dose of reality he needed. 

“It’s not difficult Ezekiel. There are plenty of CCTV cameras around Mexico and along the border.” Olivia shrugged. “And I know how to access phone and computer cameras. It’s not very difficult.”

“For you, but for mere mortals as myself, that sounds like a pain in the ass.” EZ sat on her couch, Olivia following suit. She sat beside him, placing her legs on his lap. 

“How was it today?”

“He burned a man and his kid alive.” EZ sighed. “It’s like Angel doesn’t care that this woman took Emily’s kid.”

“Give your brother credit, he cares, but he must trust her to know she won’t harm the kid.” Olivia leaned her side against the couch, her head enjoying the soft comfort of the couch. “It’s not ideal, but this is how you get powerful men like Miguel Galindo’s attention.” Olivia has seen it before, some ended well, others, not so much. This was a power play by the rebels, to show them that they weren’t as untouchable as they liked to believe. Rattle the foundation, so to speak. Again, Olivia had seen it before, it was a technique Maquina used quite often. “Is it more personal just cause it’s Emily’s kid?”

“Don’t go there, I can respect the fact she’s married.”

“Can you?” Olivia didn’t want to push EZ, but she doesn’t actually believe that EZ was over Emily. It has been eight years and it’s not like Emily made any effort to visit EZ after he pushed her way. She couldn’t blame her, but at the same time, she was married now, it was time to move on. She knew how Emily could be, manipulation was a woman’s game, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she came knocking on EZ’s door to request for his assistance. 

“Liv, you know it’s done.” EZ knew why he held on to Emily, it was a part of his past that he’s had a hard time letting go of. He was trying, especially with Emily being married to Miguel, but it was hard. She was his first love, she went through an abortion alone and he would always be angry at the circumstances of the situation that didn’t let him have a child. He understood her choice, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I’m just saying, I won’t judge, I’ve been there.” 

EZ paused, looking over at Olivia. “You’ve been here? You’ve had your first love?”

“Not my first love, but I’ve had an ex that was difficult for me to let go of.” Olivia turned the television on. 

EZ was slightly irritated at how nonchalant Olivia was being with the information she just dropped. Before he could make a comment, Olivia’s phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and immediately swung her legs so she could stand up. 

“Ciao!” She greeted whoever was on the phone. 

Olivia walked away from EZ, leaving him the television remote. He could hear her in the kitchen, giggling and speaking to whoever the fuck she was speaking to at the middle of the night in Italian. The phone call lasted for an hour, which further annoyed EZ. She shouldn’t be talking to anyone this fucking late. Who the fuck was up this late besides psychopaths? She spoke Italian the whole time so it wasn’t like he could eavesdrop.  

"I didn't know you can speak Italian." EZ commented when Olivia sat back next to him.

"I can speak seven languages, Ezekiel. You know this." Olivia furrowed her eyebrows at his words. He sounded upset and she wasn't exactly sure as to why he was. "You would like Leo, he's really nice and hilarious. He's just like Alex, except he doesn't have the weight of a crime organization on his shoulders."

Olivia has disclosed to EZ about the Leon’s. She was friends with them along with Ailee. At times, she would tag along with Ailee to Europe, which annoyed EZ since that meant he was stuck with Angel the whole summer. 

"You mean Lee's Dildo?" And now EZ didn't feel bad referring to him as such since Leo sounded like a fucking tool.

"Wow, calm down their Angel." Olivia teased. "I've told you about Leo before, remember, my ex from Italy?"

"You're what now?” EZ wasn’t an idiot, he knew Olivia had ex-boyfriends, but she never referred to Jamie as her boyfriend. For a few years, she didn’t visit him every day and would come by every month or so. It annoyed EZ, but he couldn’t exactly be upset at her, she had  a life to live as well. But she rarely spoke to him about the guys she dated, except for this one guy Leo. Again, she never referred to him as her boyfriend, but she mentioned him frequently. 

“My ex-boyfriend, I’ve told you about him before.” Olivia was certain she did, it would be hard not to since she was with Leo for almost four years. At the end, their relationship didn’t pan out since she refused to move to Madrid. 

“You’ve never referred to him as your boyfriend.”

“Yes, I did,” Olivia paused, thinking for a moment. “Oh, maybe I didn’t, I just figured you would put two and two together. Anyway, he’s coming into town since he has a few things for Alexander to sign.” 

“Wait, what does he have to do with Lee’s dildo?”

“He’s Alex’s younger brother.”

EZ chuckled and nodded his head. Who would have thought that a Leon would be a thorn to his side? It’s not like he had feelings for Olivia, but this prick seemed to be a waste of time for Olivia. They broke up, they should cut off all communications, there was no reason for Olivia to speak to him. 

“Sounds like a prick to me.” EZ shrugged. 

“What makes him sound like a prick?” Olivia questioned him, curious to his rationale. 

“He’s Alexander’s brother, I’m sure it runs in the family.”

Olivia laughed. “Ezekiel Reyes, are you jealous?” EZ has never met Alexander and the only information he knew about Alexander was through Angel. 

The Reyes men were so territorial. 

“Jealous? Pfft,” EZ scoffed. “Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous. I'm just saying, if you two broke up, why be so, chummy?”

“Chummy? What are you fifty?” Olivia laughed harder. “Wow, you are jealous.” She wiped the tears in her eyes brought on by the laughter. “It’s okay baby Reyes, you’re still the apple of my eye.” She pinched his cheeks, EZ playfully pushing her hand away. 

“Stop, you’re being obnoxious.”

Olivia hugged EZ from the side, resting her head on his chest. EZ wrapped an arm around her middle, pulling her closer. “It’s always been me and you, nothing is going to change that.”

“Yeah, not even your Italian dildo.” 

Olivia laughed once again. She missed moments like this with EZ. She was happy that he was out. 

Even if it added to her debt with Jin Rivera, she didn’t care. EZ was out of prison and he was going to remain that way. 

==============

Angel walked in his apartment, still in disbelief at Galindo’s antics towards that innocent ice cream man and his child. He’s had his fair share of killing people, but that was too much. He completely believed in Adelita’s cause but at times, he felt that she didn’t care for the consequences of her actions or she didn’t think of what could happen. He was one to talk since he didn’t think of his actions as well, but he knew better than to fucking kidnap a cartel boss’ kid.

He plopped down the cough, jumping up when the light suddenly turned on in the kitchen. His gun was immediately out, but he lowered it when he saw Vince.

“Do you ever clean?” He moved his gun towards the other voice, who was John, who just walked out of the bathroom. 

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Angel placed his gun on his table. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Ailee’s brothers. 

“Hostile environment.” Vince chuckled, coming out of the kitchen with three beers.

“What is this? Social hour? Fuck you two.” Angel was still letting the information sink in that Ailee was a government agent, who fucking kills people for a living. He wasn’t judging her, but this was his Ailee. The one who couldn’t even fucking hold a gun. This couldn’t be true.

“Angel, we come in peace, if anything, we’ve come bearing gifts.” John sat down on his armchair, thanking Vince for the beer. “We held this information for you since we felt it would benefit you the most.”

Vince places a folder on the table, sliding it towards Angel. “You hungry?” He questioned his brother.

“I am quite starved.” 

“I ordered pizza.” 

Angel wanted to shoot these motherfuckers with how casual they were acting around him. He opened the folder and again there was Ailee’s profile, much like the one Creeper had the other day. He flipped the pages and stopped at a hospital record. 

“Acute miscarriage,” Angel read out loud, the diagnosis sinking in. “No, no, this isn’t possible. She wasn’t, she,” Angel took a deep breath. “Please tell me this isn’t fucking real.”

John and Vince realize their mistake. Angel didn’t even know she was pregnant. They couldn’t rewind their actions now and they felt like idiots. Ailee was not going to be pleased.

“Fuck Angel, you didn’t know?” John looked at Vince who took out his phone, trying to find a way out of this one.

“Does it fucking look like I did?” Angel continued to browse through the documents. The birth certificate was what threw him out of a loop. “What’s this? She had a miscarriage.”

“Um, fuck.” John closed his eyes, running his hand over his short hair. “Ailee was pregnant with twins, and Theo gave her this drug that induces miscarriages. It induced one, and the other fetus hung on. She gave birth to a baby girl, Melody.”

“Melody was born with congenital hearing loss due to the chemicals in that drug. We made a cover story that she was adopted to throw Theo off.” Vince added. “If he knew that Melody was yours, he would harm her due to his hatred for you.”

Angel couldn’t hear anything else after that. Theo killed one of his children and Ailee kept his daughter from him. 

Angry was not even the right word how incredibly furious he was. He didn’t give a fuck if Ailee’s dildo was around, she had some explaining to do and she couldn’t talk her way out of that one. 

[arrtemisia]

Hey so... If you could redo cannon Makoto what would you do? How would she change? I'm curious cause out of the main cast she was the only one that I just couldn't get a solid interest in (aside from Ann but that's just cause the idea of her being a fashion model confuses me more than anything I think)

God. So much stuff.

There's a couple big things about her that bug me, and none of them really change at all in her canon vs fanon portrayal, which means it's hard for me to enjoy her even in fanworks. In my opinion, I think her biggest flaw is that she's simply miscast, and her character would have worked much better as a confidant instead of a thief, which would've given her a place of her own to shine and avoid the weird dissonance between different aspects of her character (and this was actually their original plan, so Hifumi would have taken her place which. She would've fit in much better imo bc she's actually suffered under another's will like every single one of the others and she's an actual strategist instead of just """smart,""' but that's a topic for another post), but since we're talking about how I'd personally fix Makoto in the role she currently fills, I'm going to list some of the issues I take with her and potential solutions.

First of all, just to get it out of the way, she needs an actual reason to be here. She doesn't have one, full stop.

The big thing tying the thieves together is that they're all victims of abuse and oppression who rebel against their tormentors and want to prevent anyone else from suffering like they did. I'm not saying Makoto has never struggled, because she has, but it's really, really not the same type of struggle.

This leads to weird moments where everything about Makoto's personality and characterization, such as being a stickler for the rules, idolizing the police, etc mean that she has no in-character reason to stick with the thieves after kaneshiro is dealt with and should maybe even be opposing the thieves' way of doing things, but the plot drags her along anyway because the game really wants her to be a party member. And really, what's up with her awakening? She gets threatened once and then bang-boom-kapow she has a persona? It's weak.

Also before anyone says "well all those things about her personality change when she awakens and she sheds her good girl personality and yada yada," no she doesn't, actually, and I'm getting there I promise

The easiest solution here is also the most drastic. Swap when Makoto and Akechi join. This kills two birds with one stone; Makoto gets an actual reason to awaken through Sae, and Akechi's betrayal hits harder because he's pretending to be with you for longer (although admittedly this is much less needed on Akechi's part ever since royal).

Not only does this give Makoto a much stronger reason to awaken and join in the first place (Sae starts twisting into something horrible and Makoto wants to help both stop and save her), but it also gives her an internally consistent reason to stick around. Before, unlike the others (who all at least have "I want to stop others from feeling like I did," or in Futaba's case, "I wanna find the ppl who killed my mom."), once Kaneshiro is done with, Makoto has no real big personal reason to stick around other than "I'm a thief now and the plot says so ig." Now, of COURSE she'd want to go after Shido because he's the one that was manipulating her sister, and after that of COURSE she'd want to help take down mr divine sippy cup in order to get Shido tried and jailed.

However, if we're not going to shuffle around the order of party members bc that'd nuke the canon plot a little, then we need to rework the entire Kaneshiro arc and/or Makoto's backstory and values as a whole. Yeah this is why the first solution was the easy one.

I'm going to go in-depth about how I feel Makoto's personality and values should be reworked later I'M GETTING THERE, so I'll talk about that then. As for reworking Kaneshiro, I... don't have a whole lot of ideas. The palace itself is fine, it has one of the coolest atmospheres in the game (c'mon, there's got to be a fun bank heist in a game like this), but Makoto's connection with him is very weak. Maybe have it be that he was extorting her for years in secret and she never said anything? Maybe have him be the one that ordered the hit on her father? I'm not sure what would be strong enough to match to the other palace leaders, without feeling forced. I'll have to come up with more ideas for this one.

The second big issue I have with her is less of one specific thing and more of a collection of smaller problems that all come from the same source. She waltzes in, takes over, and starts acting like she's the boss of things. She then names herself the "strategist" and yet only ever states the obvious and, to use a word I hate, mansplains things to you that you already learned two palaces ago. She's constantly condescending and passive agressive to the other team members, especially Ann and Ryuji, berates everyone for not being as naturally book smart as her when all the other characters are smart in their own ways and just not good at academia, all the while everyone around her, even characters that normally wouldn't take that (ryuji, ann) or are too prideful to admit to anyone bring better (mona), are constantly like "You're so cool, Makoto!"

It's a classic case of show don't tell, and rhe game is obsessed with telling you that Makoto is "smart" and "cool." Once she joins the team, all the characters that were originally shown to be smart in their own ways are never allowed to say anything meaningful ever again bc Makoto is the "smart" one. She never does anything particularly different compared to the other party members, but the game is constantly insisting she's special.

I'm very hesitant to call her a mary sue, because I don't think she is one, and also I disagree with the use of that term at all as these days it's just meant to devalue powerful characters that happen to be girls, but I definitely think she's emblematic of a common writing flaw that can lead to mary sues. The problem with making a character the "smart" one as a personality trait instead of something that just comes naturally is that you have to dumb down everyone else's characterization to make them look smarter or cooler by comparison. It means that the character you're trying to prop up bends everyone else around them, making them act in ways they normally wouldn't in order to make the one character you're trying to look cool seem better by comparison.

This has an easy solution: cut that shit out. Have her slowly find her place on the team naturally instead of forcing her way in as a pseudo-leader. Don't give every single "well, duh" line to her, and cut the scenes where she stands around explaining obvious things you already know in a condescending manner so she looks smarter. Let the other characters actually act like themselves when they're in the same room as her instead of bending around her to prop her up. Have her treat those characters with respect in turn, bc for all intents and purposes when it comes to thief stuff they are her senpai, instead of just having her act like she's better than them, or boss them around, or be passive agressive about the fact that their grades are bad. Show that other characters are smart in other ways instead of acting like Makoto's book smarts are the end-all be-all. And for fuck's sake, stop acting like "smart" and "punches stuff real good" are personality traits, which leads me into my last big point.

Makoto and Queen don't really feel like the same character. Okay, so to explain this, let's walk through her awakening again.

Makoto is a good girl who's a stickler for the rules, sucks up to authority, idolizes the police, is obsessed with her grades and academic performance, and looks down on others who don't do the same. A couple people call her useless and then she gets threatened by a mob boss, after which she decides to live her life for herself and completely shed her good girl lifestyle and rebel against everyone pressuring her.

That is, except for the teensy tiny detail where she doesn't.

Nothing significant about her personality changes all post her awakening and joining the thieves, aside from the part where she sucks up to authority maybe a little less. She's still uptight, her grades (and the grades of those on her team) are still her top priority, she still idolizes the law and those enforcing it.

Y'see, persona has a bit of a common problem with saying one thing about a character, be it making a reveal or saying they're gonna change in some big way, but not fully committing to it. You can see it most in p4 (party members saying they're gonna quit/stop/do whatever and then backtracking in the last two ranks of their social link), but it's rarely so severe that it completely ruins their personality and character arc as a whole. Makoto, I feel, is the main exception.

The writers want Makoto to become this tough, rebellious biker queen who oozes badassery in every move and will never follow anyone's wishes for her ever again, but they also want to keep her old personality of the uptight naive rule-following law-abiding academic. So, instead of altering one to better fit the other, they try to do both... badly.

Instead of integrating the two parts of her personality, it just feels like she swaps between them whenever the plot calls for it which is really, really jarring. She'll be stuttering about following the rules and getting to know her generation one second, and then the next she'll be yelling about mowing down shadows with her motorcyle the next. It feels like Queen and Makoto are two separate uninteresting half-characters, with only a couple personality traits each, instead of one whole well-rounded character.

Either rework Makoto's thief aesthetic to better suit her personality as a whole and give her something other than "I'm totally not a good girl anymore" to make her compelling, or actually commit to Makoto shedding her past life everyone around her had forced on her and change her personality. Have her grades start to slip, have her talk back to Sae, change the way she dresses so it's rougher and less perfect, hell, maybe even have her quit student council. Just, anything to make her more well-rounded as a character.

I have some other nitpicks with her here and there, like the fact that her confidant is actually just Eiko's confidant and doesn't give Makoto herself any development, or the way the game keeps trying to set her up as Joker's waifu or whatever, but those are just that; nitpicks. The three big things I mentioned earlier - her not having a compelling personal reason to be a part of the thieves, the way the writers shove her into the spotlight by putting down everyone around her, and the fact that her characterization is just one badass half and one smart half that don't mesh and have little else in between - are the problems I feel are what's actually holding her character back.

Again, I do think that all of this stems from the fact that she's miscast, but it's too late to fix that now. While I personally really dislike Makoto, I do kind of understand her appeal for others when she's written well, and she's a totally valid character to like. I just wish she was portrayed better.

(Also, if anyone wants to reblog this, feel free I ask that you please don't put this in Makoto's main character tag. I know how much it sucks to get a bunch of negativity in a character's main tags as I am an Edelgard fe3h fan)

[dipplie]

Temporary list of my stories and OC’s until one day I make a comprehensive and well made list:

Blinded:

Polli: My oldest OC and fun fact was my persona till she become edgy and I wasn’t 12 anymore. Everyone’s favorite yes yes I’m aware. Yellow, energetic, eats dirt and bugs, I can’t tell if she’s evil because of a wisp possession or just crazy. Breaks the 4th wall. Is she a Mary Sue???????? Who knows.

Melody: NOT Polli’s girlfriend despite Polli’s delousions. Has an abusive mom :(. Only has one eye and then no eyes and then robot eyes or smthn idk she becomes a badass when she gets older. But otherwise trembling in her shoes all the time.

Melodys Mom/Sharren: Bitch. Okay well all I’ll say is she’s old and grumpy and probably smells bad.

Louise: Total hotty, rich kid, FtM, got bullied as a kid for his weight. Had a squad of fans basically in high school. Lived with his mom after his parents got a divorce but his mom was semi abusive, projected her femininity onto him, and wouldn’t have been supportive of his transition, so between middle and high school he went to live with his dad and got his sex change and testosterone. His best friend in elementary and middle school stopped talking to him after his transition, and became his competition for the most attractive and sought after boy in school (except Louise is a sweetheart while his friend Tommy is a dick and really gross) His dad runs a company that specializes in technology, and after meeting and falling in love with Melody (even after all her abusive trauma and losing both her eyes) he has his dad and some of the developers create a way to get her vision back and I mean honestly I love him how could you not love him he’s so perfect.

Watching:

Fick: Big nerd boy with thick glasses. I feel like he’d use Reddit but don’t quote me on that. Big crush on Vivinya. Boy don’t wander into the woods- oh look dead body with a curse on it don’t touch it- aaaand now he has a wisp that makes him kill people, way to go kid. Panic attack central.

Vivinya: True crime girl, yucky yucky. Probably had a knife collection. “uwu I’m insane” except she actually is and starts using Fick to kill people for her and treats him like her “Yandere boyfriend” or something cringe and gross oh god. She deserves jail. JAIL. Needs to learn guys need to give consent too. Just overall sucks 1/10.

Tommy: I mentioned him early to be Louises ex best friend and rival. He used to have a crush on Louise actually but that don’t excuse being a BITCH!!!! Also needs to learn people gotta give consent he is just as gross as Vivinya. Cheats on all the girls he gets with because he’s again, a bitch. Idk if he deserved to get murdered though I mean he was still a teenager but it’s fine. Thinks of the song Seventeen from Heathers actually this story does feel a tad reminiscent of heathers with vivinya being a crazy and wanting to off a bunch of students. Huh.

Suzannie: Tommy’s older sister who’s a detective. What a coincidence. Monotone and depressed. Probably because her little brother got murdered. Gets real awkward when she’s talking about her brothers murder(s) to Fick and Vivinya like “when I find who did this to him they’ll regret being born”. Kind of really pretty actually.

Adolescents (there isn’t actually a story here yet but don’t worry about it shhhh):

Nelson: HIMBO HIMBO H- Jock stupid idiot big dork god he’s so awkward and his main personality trait is having a crush on Naomi and being a dork when talking to her. Probably could benchpress you.

Naomi: Gamer or something and a nerd geek. Her main personality trait is having a crush on Nelson and also being a dork when talking to him. Probably a weeb and fandom dweller. Can’t draw but she commissions artists to draw. She does write copious amounts of fanfiction though.

Andrés: Ohhh the school bad boy babyyyy. Baseball bat with nails in it or something. There’s like... A thing between him in Charlotte and he wants to be a thing but she’s being difficult and makes it hard to talk to her or about her and ugh.

Charlotte: Princess, high school princess. She’s actually pretty nice when you get to know her- but she’s a diva. Ballerina after school. Best friends with Naomi and doesn’t know what she’s talking about when she mentions ships or OTPs but she listens anyways because she’s a good friend. There’s like... A thing between her and Andrés but she doesn’t know if she’s super into him but geez he’s really hot but she gets such mixed responses when she asks her friends about it and what if it doesn’t work outttt.

Marlon: They/Them but they’re okay with either pronouns they aren’t sure yet, he or she is okay... Box boy box boy. Autism... He doesn’t want to admit He’s attracted to men but he’s totally attracted to men. He lives alone which is probably illegal for his age but somehow he manages. Everyone thinks he’s “the quiet kid” and he’s really sad about it no don’t make jokes like that please guys ahh-

Sing for Me:

Kat: The color pink, addahadda(adhd), angry and loud and short. For being only like 10 and being an adorable little lesbian dressing in sparkly pink dresses she actually likes screaming a lot and would totally sing heavy metal if her producers let her. Loud and mad but gets so soft around her girlfriend. “If anything happens to Brie I’m killing everyone in this room and then myself”.

Brie: French... Birds and stuff. Loves her girlfriend even though she is so loud. So fast. So much. Likes to write pretty things. Is only like an inch taller than Kat. Filled with so much love for everything.

Elliot: The girls manager. Lots of coffee. Stressed out of his MIND please help this man. Probably gay. Seems like a smug dick but he is just a tall and lanky dork that loves puppies and wants nothing more than for Kat and Brie to be happy. Accidentally brands them as sisters and then Kat kisses Brie and- oh fuck oh shit oh no what has he done. Hides the fan and non fan responses from them. Poor guy.

Horror Hosts:

Ichabod: Hot demon who’s the son of the current ruler of hell or something. I mean he’s hot, smart, and royalty, what more do you want. I very specifically hear the dub voice of Kyoya Ootori from OHHC as his voice don’t @ me. Goat legs????? Yeah??? Don’t be rude.

Barnabie: Ohhhhhhhhh big orc teddy bear I’m crying I love him????? He puts up a more confident ploy and the given stereotypical personality orcs supposedly have but he’s just a shy boy that wants to give girls flowers and call boys pretty. Help him.

Garrison: Gary Burger. Fat hairy gay man. I mean werewolf. Wouldn’t it be funny if I made the whole werewolf thing backwards and made him transform into a HUMAN only on the full moon??? Party animal, pun absolutely intended. LOUD AND FUNNY he’s a dork. Bites. Horny on main Garrison please you’re supposed pamper and flirt with the guests but not quite that much.

Vincenzo: Token Vampire but he’s Italian because I felt like it. Talk and lanky of course. Bitch face. Blood coffee? Yeah lots of coffee. Tired. Let him sleep in Ichabod. Steps on people. Can summon and reanimate corpses but has a bitter attitude towards them because they get annoyed with him as much as he gets annoyed with- everyone else. He does have a soft spot but idk where it is. When he’s talking to guests he’s more suave and sexy though.

Kai: Genderfluid haha get it because slime fluid-... I’ll stop. Probably objectively the hottest because they can look anyway they want and shift their vocals to sound like almost anything, also probably objectively the best in bed (if you’re okay with the texture of Jell-o) and honestly come on save some for the rest of us it’s not fair. This boy can SING oh my god seranade me and whisper in my ear baby. Spunky and sassy.

Hallvor: BABY OCTOPOD BOY OHHHHH I LOVE HIM HE’S SO SWEET AND IS AN ANGEL DARLING BOY SO EMBARRASSED SO SHY SOFTEST VOICE OHHH- ohhh nooo he’s got a knife ohhhhh Hallvor baby don’t be like that ohhhh... Used to work in hentai actually (I wonder why) but quit because of immoral practices and good for him we love that. Okay he’s not actually a yandere or whatever but he DEFINITELY wants to squeeze you a little too hard and has those crazy eyes.

Carla: Main character of this OHHC monster clone. She sucks I don’t like her because listen listen she kills monsters as a living and when she tries to kill our boys here, Ichabod catches her and goes “no” but then the rest (not knowing her murderous intent) fall in love with her and Ichabod is like: “shoot well I’ll keep you alive and around but I’m watching you” and blah blah romance and feelings and character development and wow she seems like she’s grown to care about them... So Ichabod removes a curse he put to prevent her from harming them or leaving... AND THEN SHE STABS THEM ALL IN THE BACK IM CRYING. I mean she might have an extra reason for needing to kill them but I haven’t decided if I want to actually put it in the story yet so.

Fingertips:

Maria/Marianna: Was this goth angry chick and the head of these losers but after a failed heist, fire, and being betrayed and dropped from a window on a 3rd or 4th story down into flames, and going to the hospital and changing her name, she changed totally and become a soft pretty girl... And then the next three boys went “HEY BOSS WE FOUND YOU” and she went “oh no” and now she’s just an anxious wreck like “no no no no no I don’t shoot people in the face anymore no no no no no” And has a fear of hands. Also was Diamontés best friend in primary school and yes all these characters went to the K-12 school all the other characters do/did. Pretty voice. The story is mostly about her being anxious around all the other characters because who was it that betrayed her and dropped her into the flames below? Find out next week on th-

Nikki: He’s that character that you see and immediately go “oh he’s gross and is angry and is a bitch” and you’re right he is and has a cockney accent and screams a lot and probably swings a knife around a lot, but he’s got a sweet interior (somewhere in there... somewhere) Screamo heavy metal. Him and the rest of these character briefly talked about having a band and then they didn’t and then at the end of the story they do and although he plays guitar mostly, if he does do lead vocals he screams a lot. Bitch.

Anthony: Pretty boy but like the “was in the army” pretty boy vibe. Probably played football in highschool. Pyromaniac. Punches Nikki a lot. Almost gives himbo vibes sometimes, almost. Kind of likes the old timey cozy aesthetic. Plays the piano sometimes but “oh I’m not very good at it” Plays extremely well

Diamonté: TALL. Purple goth boy aesthetic hellll yeahhhh. CRAZY EYES AND THEY SPEAK VOLUMES WATCH OUT. Drums. The scary kind of quiet because he just smiles at you. Crowbar. Okay but he’s actually really sweet though. Secretly loves watching Anthony and Nikki get into fights so that’s why he rarely puts a stop to it. I think he’s a sadist. Can be a gentle giant, but can also be a not so gentle giant. The only time he’s really talkative is after copious amounts of booze.

Unnamed/Undesigned 1: Literally a pimp and he’s pretty gross. Blonde hair and pink and white clothes.

Unnamed/Undesigned 2: Chick that likes to throw knives and be angry and threatens Marianna a lot but in a quiet and monotone way, Marianna is pretty scared and hopes that these are just shallow threats uhhhhh.

Unnamed/Undesigned 3: Sells guns (without a lisence of course) and wears a bandana over his face a lot. Tired. Grumpy.

Unnamed/Undesigned 4: Like Marianna, was cold hearted and cool but then got caught in the fire and got all soft. He only has one eyes but how sweet his eyepatch is a heart. Recoved along side Marianna and they are good friends good friends tha- wait Marianna are you going back with them oh god you can’t do that oh dear oh no oh-

(I don’t have a story or name for these two but they’re my comfort ship OC’s and my current hyper fixaction right now):

Rodriquéz: I literally designed him with almost all the traits I find attractive in a guy other than freckles so as you can imagine I find him super HOT. I also designed his personality on what I find attractive from a guy so as you can imagine I find him super GREAT. But anyways he’s grumpy and closed off and monotone and smug. I really could go on for hours about how I want him to step on me I’m so sorry guys. Both him and Samantha give the “21 and having immature fun” vibes. They’re a thing but they like going to bars together and splitting off and doing their own thing (or doing someone else’s thing if you get what I mean haHhahHhahGahGhaha-) But so help them if anyone doesn’t oblige by the “no” from one of these two, someone’s gonna get beat up.

Samantha: (She literally just my personality shhhhh don’t tell anyone it’s a secret) Bubbly, energetic, a little shy by extroverted, bombshell blonde or something? It took me way too much time and effort to design her but I’m really happy with how I finally designed her, I love her outfit. She could kick me in the face and I’d say thank you. Girly drinks at the bar. Got that trauma and anxiety™️ secretly though. Skips and jumps a lot. As I’m typing this I keep looking up at the drawing of her and more and more I would want her to also step on me.

(Space Story I don’t have a nice title for):

Unnamed/Undesigned 1: So... Funny story this story originally was with me and uh... My ex I guess... So I gotta replace the MC’s... Whoops ahaha... Awkward. But anyways the MC is a robot and a girl and is a slight tsundere or smthn.

Unamed/Undesigned 2: Has a space ship, works for this organization in space that protects the galaxy. Is cocky, lazy, sly, oblivious, and an idiot. The love interest- obviously. Probably accidentally committing space crimes. (Like space pirating hAHAHA-) Kind of cool when he wants to be.

Dandelion/Dandy: CAT. WITH A JET PACK. Kind of an asshole. Fun fact used to be Polli’s cat but then when the Second MC crash landed on earth she was like “fuck this noise I’m going with space boy laterz” (okay she can’t talk but she thought it).

Zizii: Lesbian alien? Yeah???? Okay but I mean her main character trait is being a dorky back alley doctor and engineer obsessed with the MC because they’re a sentient robot with emotions and a lazer arm and rocket boots WOW!!!!!!!!

Story I want to revive:

So I had a story I started writing a long time ago about this tech theatre kid that had a crush on this other theatre kid character, but in a play that other character has to kiss another person for the show, and as the story progresses the MC convinces themselves that it isn’t just a play and that their crush actually loves and is kissing that other kid. And in the play, that other character is supposed to die. Show night comes along and they die, but like actually, and by the hands of the MC (Idk maybe like a light falls on em or smthn). So it’s a grotesque scene the audience sees as just an act. (Mutters I dunno I think my idea’s cool...) So I’ve been wanting to design these characters and work more on the story but I’m busy being obsessed with Rodriquez and Samantha so. (And the Horror Host Club too I love them too still).

Other Characters that either don’t have a specific story or are kind of like background characters:

Jacqueiliquinne Merril: Sara Berry vibes from 35mm (go look up The Ballad of Sara Berry, maybe like an animatic idk the first one that comes up is nice) But otherwise rich, pretty, popular, bitch. Tries to like, steal Louise from his squad and it’s like bro that’s unnecessary who hurt you that’s so rude. She gives Nui from Kill La Kill Vibes too. Oh she knows her name is long and annoying but you have to say the whole thing.

Brianna: Jaqueiliquinne’s sister. Big titty goth gf??? She’s pretty popular too and kind of a bitch too but to a much lesser degree. Her and he sister throw hands a lot when no one is around, you know, “THEY GIRLS ARE FIGHTINNGGGG”.

The Louise Fan Club: 4 characters I haven’t named yet. One writes fanfiction of Louise and shares it with the others and with him sometimes and although he thinks it’s a bit weird he also finds it a tad endearing and supports her. One is an aspiring photographer and is constantly asking Louise to model for him. One is an artist and draws Louise all the time. And one is an aspiring musician who writes songs based of Louise’s relationships which again he finds a little weird but endearing and supports her.

The Jacquiliquinne Merril Fan Club: Genderbent-ish (I say ish because one of the characters is a little bit less defined gender wise) versions of the Louise Fan Club. Yes I’m lazy, and no they don’t get along with them, infact they hate each others club with a passion. 

Unnamed/Undesigned: I wanna make some hacker kid just because I wanna have one.

Unnamed/Undesigned: I also really wanna have a super cutesy magical girl and then a really super duper generic boring character probably like star vs the forces of evil idk I never watched that show but it looks cute.

Me: I exist in the universe fukc you I can do what I want it’s my story and I get to chose the who also if you wanna be in the mess of a universe go ahead draw yourself with my OC’s I allow and encourage and appreciate it. I literally made the Horror Host Club as a sort of Harem story and you are absolutely allowed to make out with them if you’re a monster fucker DO it GO ahead it’s canon.

and that is ALL I have FOR now Knowing me I’ll make like 12 more characters by July, and I mean I need more characters for the high school anyways so...

[sortasirius]

5 or 19 for Destiel. :)

Hello my friend because I have been so bad at writing prompts or one shots you get BOTH

Link to post

Prompt me up!

5. “WHO LEFT THE TURKEY IN THE OVEN?!”

Words: 1053

A Christmas fic???  I guess my brain just wants the year to be over lmao

Three hours, thirty two minutes, and twenty seven seconds. Sixteen minutes and twenty five seconds until his next check.  Dean is not anal-retentive, thank you very much for asking, he just knows that turkeys have about a five minute window from being raw to being like eating sand. It is an exact science that he has perfected over the years.  And that is not going to be messed up tonight.

The bunker’s halls are filled with cheesy Christmas music, the smell of the meal that Dean has literally been working on since dawn wafting into every room.  It’s their first Christmas as a real family, with Jack back and, well, whole.  With Eileen, with Cas.  Dean hasn’t had a Christmas since before he went to hell, and even though he clutched that night to his heart like a precious scrap of paper, he’s excited to have a holiday where they don’t have to worry about the next big bad thing coming to get them, or to have tragedy hanging over their heads. To, you know, be normal.  Well, as normal as you can get when they had all died multiple times and two of their guests were angelic in nature, the other one recently resurrected from the great beyond.

“You need to talk to Cas,” Sam’s voice comes from the doorway, and Dean barely spares a glance in his direction, too focused on his goal to think about much else.  Eileen is with Sam, looking concerned.  Concerned enough that Dean stops chopping onions and wipes his hands on his apron (aprons fucking rock).

“What d’you mean?  What’s wrong?”

“He says he caught wind of a case,” Sam’s eyebrows are knitted in concern, “He wants to leave.”

Dean feels the color drain out of his face, which is a little embarrassing.

“He wants to leave?  Like now?”

“Yeah, he’s grabbing some stuff and getting ready to go.”

Dean stares at them, and then at the oven, where his masterpiece is roasting.  He checks his watch.  Okay. He has about twenty minutes until he needs to take it out.  Well, seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds to be exact.  Dean sways on the spot, torn between his carefully prepared and polished bird and having an empty place at the table he had carefully laid out the day before, with the place next to him being empty.

Neither sound appealing, but one makes his gut twist. He decides to handle that one.

He washes his hands methodically, trying to get them as clean and onion-free as he possibly can.  Approaching Sam and Eileen, he pokes Sam in the chest.

“Watch that turkey.  It’s gotta come out in,” he checks his watch again, “Fifteen minutes and fifty-seven seconds.”

“Okay Dean.”

Dean narrows his eyes and stands his ground, looking between both of their amused faces.

“I’m serious.”

“I can tell you are,” Eileen grins at him, “Please just go get Cas.”

Dean sways again, taking one last sweeping look at the kitchen before stomping towards Cas’ room.  Empty.  Fuck.

He checks the garage, the basement, checks in with Jack in his room, before finally hearing clanking in the armory.  Fucker, gonna take his guns on Christmas Day before he can have his turkey?  Dean doesn’t think so.

Cas is methodical in his movements, checking which weapons he was taking and diligently marking them on a list.

“You headed somewhere?”

Cas’ eyes meet his, and Dean’s hostility immediately melts.

“I caught wind of something, but don’t let me put a damper on the festivities, I’ll be back shortly.”

“And this can’t wait?  You know, until I could go with you?”

Cas’ shoulders sink a fraction of an inch.

“What’s going on, Cas?”

“I’m just not feeling very festive, human holidays always feel strange to me.  So I don’t want to put a damper on anything.”

“So you’re just gonna go?  What about-” he cuts himself off, not wanting to sound like he was begging him to stay or anything.

“Dean-”

“Come on Cas, I,” he takes a deep breath, steeling himself to say the next words, “I didn’t get a lot of, uh, happy holidays growing up. It was just me and Sam and I, I was just excited to have a Christmas with everyone, with a real kitchen and have everyone, I don’t know, have someone.  Sam has Eileen, Jack has all of us, he’s the kid, and then…you and me…”

The words sound closer to the truth than he meant them to.  But Cas’ eyes soften by degrees, Dean could always tell that because they seemed to turn a lighter shade of blue.

“You and me.”

Dean opens his mouth, trying to make his thoughts into words, thoughts that had been buried in the back of his mind for years, literal years.

“You know, we could, be something.”

Cas smiles this bright and blinding smile, something so brilliant that it takes Dean’s breath away, but he doesn’t have time to get it back before Cas closes the space between them and pulls Dean forward by his flannel until they crash together, and Dean searches for Cas lips so quickly it’s a little embarrassing, but he doesn’t really care.  Cas’ lips are soft and chapped and warm and Dean sighs into his mouth, relaxing as the tension between them, pulled taught like a string, finally eased.

Cas is the one to break the kiss, but it’s so gentle that Dean knows it isn’t a rebuke, just a wait til later.  Dean could live with that.

“So no hunt?”

Cas smiles at him.

“I suppose it can wait.  After all, it’s only a spontaneous combustion or two, nothing we can’t handle.”

Dean reaches for his hand instinctively, and it isn’t until he smells a too done smell coming from the kitchen that he starts running, dragging Cas with him.

“WHO LEFT THE TURKEY IN THE OVEN?!”

Sam comes skidding into the room, only barely registering that Cas and Dean are, in fact, holding hands, but grins as he nearly drops Dean’s overdone turkey on the floor in his haste to stop it from burning.

Sam is sufficiently guilty for his transgression, but despite the dryness of Dean’s masterpiece, when he’s holding hands with Cas under the table, he doesn’t really care.  People always come for the potato casserole anyway.

19. I love you more than I love food.

Words: 722

Dean’s never been sure where his love of cooking comes from. Hell, it’s not like he ever had a real kitchen growing up, and he sure wasn’t slinging meals when he was five years old and hunting was just a thing he did for bugs in the backyard.  He had to work with what they had when they were growing up, even when they stayed with Pastor Jim and Bobby, it wasn’t exactly five star dining.  He had come up with foods to keep Sam entertained though, maybe that was where he got it from.  The best thing they had were Funyuns crunched up with hot dogs and ketchup.  Sounds gross, but when the gas mart down the block is the only place you can walk to to get food and you only have ten dollars to get through the week, that kinda shit rocked hard.

Now that he has a real kitchen, and access to a real grocery store or, even though he hates to admit he goes there, a farmer’s market, Dean cooks all the time.  He falls asleep watching food network or The Great British Baking Show, he writes down ideas for recipes on the notes in his phone, sometimes even when he’s half asleep, and then he has to try and remember why he thought garlic and strawberries would ever be good together.

The only thing Dean loves more than cooking?  Eating.  It’s always gratifying to have Sam or Jack or Cas compliment him on his meals, but if he loved his food it was just an extra bonus for his ego.  

Sam starts to notice something though, he notices before Dean does which, retrospectively, pisses Dean off.  Dean doesn’t eat when Cas does.  He always takes a bite in between Cas’ bites, and watches Cas closely for a reaction, good or bad, to whatever is on his plate.

Dean laughs at Sam the first time he tells him this.

“No I don’t,” he rolls his eyes, going back to prepping his bell peppers for the oven.

“Oh yeah you do,” Sam grins at him, “Pay attention when we eat tonight.  You like refuse to eat when Cas is there.  It’s funny.”

Dean tries really hard that night not to not eat when Cas does but…come on, he’s gotta see if he likes the peppers with goat cheese right?

Unfortunately, his inability to eat when Cas does becomes a running gag with Sam.  He mentions it constantly, even getting Jack in on it, but whenever he mentions it to Cas, Cas just cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes.  Him not saying anything makes Dean that much more self conscious, but he tries not to dwell on it.  It doesn’t work.

Dean tries to pretend he has everything under control, until he makes himself and Cas some pretty epic turkey and swiss sandwiches for lunch one day, and he realizes he’s doing it again.

“Sam is right,” Cas points out, looking up from his sandwich.

“He tends to be, more than I’d like to admit,” Dean grins, his eyes scanning the room, landing anywhere but on Cas.

“You won’t eat when I do.  Why?”

Dean is afraid to see accusations in Cas�� eyes, or worse, understanding.  Understanding of something that not even Dean really understands.  Well, he does if he really thinks about it, but he doesn’t want to think about it, sue him.

“I don’t know.”

“Dean.  Look at me.”

Dean does, and then he’s under the force of Cas’ eyes, and he has a really hard time lying when he’s looking at Cas.

“Why?”

“I guess…I don’t know.  I love you more than I love food.”

Cas seems momentarily stunned by his words, but Dean thinks it’s a pretty good comparison, even though he, you know, said the “l” word. That’s fine, he won’t think about that until he has a spiraling panic attack late at night tonight.  That’s a future Dean problem.

“Well I also love you more than I love food,” Cas side-eyes Dean with a playful smile on his face.  He thinks he might be being teased.  And he’s not mad about it.

“That’s not fair, you’ve never cared about food.”

“I care about yours.”

Dean grins, still staring at the table.

See this, this is why he loves cooking.

[zukofenty]

always be my maybe

➜ Summary: The one where Zuko and Katara could never quite get their timing right. Especially when the universe throws a lost condom, thousands of miles, and a baby in their way. 

“I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, Celebrity Chef!Katara, Doctor!Zuko, Love, Rosie!AU 

AO3 @zutaraweek

“Go a couple rounds, leave Zuko’s dick up in a casket!” Toph screams into the microphone, undeterred by the various guests who stare up at her, mouth open and half-chewed, dry-as-fuck chicken spilling out. It wasn’t her fault, really! As soon as Zuko handed the mic off to her, he basically gave her free reign to spit a Megan Thee Stallion verse in his honor. “Sing with me, bitches! Look up the lyrics on Genius.com, Cheryl!” 

 “Sit down !” Katara squeezes out from clenched teeth, ripping the device out from the girl’s grip. 

 “I didn’t even get to the chorus, you fucking whore .” A bridesmaid nervously plucks the mic from their table and avoids eye contact with both of them. “What’s going on with you, bitch?” Toph asks quietly. She could tell Katara’s been doing her fake smile for the last twenty minutes. The girl was practically going to break her face open with how hard she was grinding her teeth. 

 “Just thinking.” Katara wants to smack herself in the face, pinch a nipple and bring herself to reality. Everything felt too real, and Toph could sense it. She’s the type to somehow sense when Katara shifts in her seat a certain way to covertly satisfy a cooch itch, and then buys her Monistat the same day. 

 She hates that she could never hide any emotion from her. Toph could always figure out the puzzle pieces that were Katara. One of the few to know the real her, besides Zuko. 

 Sometimes Katara thinks the younger girl knows her better than him. At least now. Especially now. 

 “About?” Toph takes an experimental sip from the wine glass, and gags. The juice tasted like Gatorade and cum. “Why the fuck would anyone want a dry wedding? Weddings are the only time you get to see your alcoholic uncle vomit all over the bride’s shoes, and then your closeted aunt has to wipe up the puke and her reputation from the floor while thinking of her secret girlfriend at home watching Tiger King .” 

 “That example was extremely specific and extremely unnecessary.” Katara brushes a crunchy curl, doused in hairspray, from her eyes. 

 “Sorry, I got distracted. I had dick on the brain, or whatever Rihanna said,” Toph mumbles, risking a bite of the chicken.

 Katara turns to see him at the couple’s table in the center of the extravagant wedding, and sighs. “And for your information, I was just thinking when will he penetrate my esophagus? You know, just girly things.” 

 Toph has the gall to slap the girl on the cheek. 

 Katara holds her stinging face, eyes narrowed in an unspoken threat for fucking up the parts of her face she didn’t set with powder (she was going for a dewy look, sue her). “Not fair! You were the one who called my throat the baby chute earlier today!”

 “Ok, throat goat. One, he’s getting married. Two, you’re sick.” 

 “My therapist will most likely cosign that,” Katara sighs. Toph holds Katara’s hand and leans her head on her shoulder as they watch Zuko mingle with guests. 

  This is the happiest day of his life. 

 Her best friend of twenty odd years was getting married. He looked so handsome, so happy. A suit that looked like it would cost someone’s rent and a half casually hugging his muscular frame. A blinding smile on his face, cheeks flushed from champagne and excitement. 

 When he turns her way, his smile grows impossibly wider. Toph clinks on a champagne glass with a fork, breaking it a la Princess Diaries , and Katara could feel the stares of nearly everyone in the room, ready for her speech. 

  It should be the happiest day of my life, too. 

  Right?

 Katara thinks she wants to cry. 

 //

 Now, how come none of those Judy Blume, coming-of-age books have a chapter on how to write a Best Woman speech for your best friend getting married to another woman, even when you were struggling with the fact that you might have been in love with him for the past two decades? 

 Bitch, what the fuck do you even start that Google Doc with? 

 Does she start at 4 years old? When Katara thinks Zuko is an annoying piece of shit?  

 But, you know, he’s her piece of shit. 

 Guys have hepatitis, or cooties, or whatever Sokka said, she couldn’t exactly remember. All she remembered was Zuko sucked. He stole her crayons and made fun of her Hello Kitty backpack on the first day of school. He was the stupid one, not Hello Kitty . Never Hello Kitty . She’d shoved his face into the playground’s wood chips, threatened to cut off his peepee for breathing down her neck with his retainer breath, and even stuck his head in between two slices of white bread and lovingly referring to him as an ‘idiot sandwich’ (Sokka let her watch too many Gordon Ramsey hosted shows while their dad was working late). 

 Zuko and Katara were practically inseparable ever since. 

 Or 10, when you were asking for trouble if you fucked with Zuko.  

 He was a tiny kid, glasses too big for his head. Hair shaggy, clothes too oversized for him (just the way he liked it). His dad had tried beating it into him that it showed weakness by not making waves, not being loud and proud. But, he was quiet by nature. For him, it was just easier. 

 Not stirring the pot, being the observer, looking in from the outside. He was just Zuko , he liked Wonder Woman comics and figuring out what other words besides BOOBIES he could spell with his calculator instead of actually doing his math homework, because he was bad at math. Bad at everything, really. Everything but band class. Even if he did hate that stupid fucking tsungi horn. 

 His mom would hide his report cards from his dad, especially the ones noting how shy he was (Mrs. Kim had used the exact words ‘very antisocial, very easy to bully’). Even when Ursa would ask him to try, try to make friends outside of Katara, he was always a stubborn little thing. Something you got from your father , she would say, the smile slipping off her face just the slightest.

 It was just more fun being by himself, the only exception he made was Katara. He spent his recess scribbling down a plot for a Love Amongst the Dragons Fanfiction and listening to Katara’s iPod he’d steal from her, just because he could , after she snuck it out from her backpack for the 10 minute break they had. It was the iPod she spent the last two Christmases saving up with Sokka for. Zuko insisted he could master Ludacris’s rap in Usher’s “Yeah!” and practiced the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she had custody of the device.

 Some days, Katara would sit beside him in her signature puffy blue jacket, struggling to fold herself to fit on the blacktop beside Zuko. The patented jacket her grandmother forced her to wear every single day obstructing her abilities. He snickers, but keeps quiet, content with plotting out a story that he would hopefully get to type out on the school library’s computers if his mom picked him up late again. She usually did, much to the dismay of the ladies at the front office. They typically hissed at him (which made him cry, to which they would have to offer him a cherry Otter pop so they wouldn’t face a lawsuit) and called his mom words he couldn’t repeat without getting in trouble (“Whore”). 

 Katara would babble on about her day, sometimes thinking of ways for his characters to die a painful death, or cooking up Fanfic plots for Beyoncé and Britney Spears to find love among the chaos of a zombie infestation. She always insisted she brought the creative range to their friendship. Some days though, Katara forgets all about him and plays handball with all the most popular girls in school. 

 Zuko’s jealous. 

 (Sometimes.) 

  She’s my best friend! He wants to scream in their faces. At the end of the day, he thinks he’s going to lose her. The day she realized she was too good, too cool for the likes of him. 

 “Chan, stop it!” Zuko squeaked, his notebook snatched from underneath his nose. The boy was always picking a fight. Your dad buys you a Motorola flip phone and suddenly you think you’re the shit. 

 The boy sneers at Zuko, flipping through the pages. “What do we have here? Are you drawing Shrek with boobies? You’re gonna jack off to that later, freak?” 

 Before Zuko could get a word in and defend his honor, Chan’s entire body was shoved to the ground, a dainty foot cased in a light up, white Skechers sneaker pressing into his face. Zuko couldn’t help his glee as Katara could barely be peeled off and stopped from repeatedly slamming Chan’s face into the hopscotch chalk court. “It’s all ogre now, bitch!” 

 She made sure to pin her detention slip to her Bratz backpack with pride. Zuko buys two treats that day from the student store before he walks her home. 

 “You’re my best friend, forever and ever,” Katara declares, head held up high. Zuko saw through it, though. He knows she’s scared of what Hakoda has to say, what Gran Gran has to say. So, he holds her hand tight, trying to relay his gratitude in the touch. 

 He licks at his Spongebob popsicle. The eyes had melted off and looked more like someone’s worst nightmare than an icy treat. Katara had wanted his cherry Otter pop, and he happily handed it over. “Pinky promise?” He holds out his finger. 

 Katara hooks her finger around his, dwarfing his tiny digit. Her outstretched smile stained orange. “I’ll break yours if you ever forget.” 

 At 15, Katara came to the realization that men have the emotional intelligence of a Souplantation crouton (may Souplantation rest in peace). 

 Growing up, with their dad and grandma always at work at their store, Katara was always in charge of cooking. No matter how many times she’d try to get Sokka to do it, he always insisted he was far too busy with taking out the trash, killing bugs, hating women. So, she was stuck with it, and honest-to-Rihanna, really liked it. Not that she’d ever let Sokka ever get the satisfaction of knowing it. It was her time to be alone, gave her the space to pop in a Cheetah Girls CD and pretend she won Masterchef with the struggle meal straight out of a Spam can she had to pound on a few times to get it to squeeze out from its gelatinous casing, or a whitewashed recipe she tried replicating whenever she catches a Rachael Ray rerun. 

 Though, Katara’s favorite time was chopping up the green onions under Ursa’s careful eyes, a hand always just there in realign the knife just in case she’d carelessly cut the green onions too big to garnish. Then, Ursa would then take out scissors because nobody had time for that. When his dad wasn’t home, Zuko’s mom opened up their doors across the street to the siblings, rambling about the next big painting she was planning as they scarfed down a home cooked meal. 

 Zuko was similar to his mom in that regard. They were the type of people who managed to make everyday moments larger-than-life, made it infectious, too. When it’s nighttime and he’s snuck into and snug in Katara’s room, he’d tell her dreams too big for anyone’s comprehension. Sometimes he dreamed he had tits that would leak chunky chicken noodle soup. Sometimes he’d ramble until her eyes are flitting shut and he’s left talking to himself and measuring his hand with hers, securing the leg she instantly throws over his waist. He’d like to think he was her only exception in the Souplantation crouton narrative. 

 Her bed is starting to smell like him, too. His favorite Costco brand shampoo and conditioner that he leaves in her bathroom, permeating her nostrils when she pulled him close. She even let him put up a Drake poster right next to her plethora of Rihanna ones, but only after he let her draw a penis on both his and Drake’s face. What he didn’t account for was her using a permanent marker, or the fact he couldn’t scrub it away from his cheeks for the next two days. 

 It was easy like this, just the two of them. 

 He’s there for all the birthdays and Halloweens and Christmases that left her not quite feeling whole. When things were hard, when things fucking sucked, when she wanted nothing more but to die. He was there, (stupidly) holding out his hand and willing to be the eye to her hurricane.

 At 15, Zuko decides Katara feels home.  

 At 18, Zuko had already been Katara’s many firsts. 

He was her first buffet partner, and brought back his Justin Bieber haircut just to pretend he was 12 so they could qualify for children's rates and a complimentary Oreo cheesecake because they were always celebrating his “birthday.” 

 Her first clubbing partner the second she turned 18, rubbing her back when any Beyoncé song with a Jay-Z feature came on because the second he cheated on Beyoncé, he cheated on everyone in the Beyhive. The first one to have to hold her as she hurled on his shoes, the first one to have to take her to get her stomach pumped. 

 The first person she tried to roll a joint with. 

  “I don’t need to learn that.” 

  Katara purses her lips. “And why not?” 

  He gestures to his face. “I’m too pretty. Only ugly bitches know how to do that . ” 

  Sokka thinks he needs to intervene when he hears Zuko’s tsungi horn case being chucked across the room . 

 The first person she (almost) fucked. 

 His family life was, for lack of a better word, fucked up. Katara had been witness to the drinking, the drugs, the crying. The nights where she sometimes didn’t know if the person standing in front of her was Zuko. She just wanted one night away from it all, just one night out on the town. 

  “That was kind of terrible,” Katara admits easily, wincing because she was sure he spilled Papa John’s garlic dipping sauce in his shitty Corolla’s air filter last Tuesday. He tried positioning his arm naturally underneath her head while their half naked bodies were pressed together, but he ended up smacking off her glasses. He even had the audacity to contently sigh as though he accomplished something, rather than just tangle her hair and give her a tension headache. 

  She felt lied to! Cheated! Bamboozled! Hoodwinked! All the Shrek and Y/N stories on FF.net could not prepare her for the fact that there weren’t any tongues fighting for dominance, or any mouths that tasted like cinnamon or musk or shit like that. It was just retainer to retainer and smelled distinctly of her awkward friend (cheese). It was sweaty and a lot of weird humping and felt like a visit to the gyno. 

  “Hey! I thought it was pleasantly average.” He clears his throat. “You know, besides the fact you farted mid-insertion and I started crying after 20 seconds.” 

  “You mean right after you came, right?” She says matter-of-factly. 

  He glared. “Is it my fault you have a gorilla grip pussy? Is it?” 

  “Zuko, you’re so fucking — ” 

  “What happens when you put a hot dog in the microwave for 2 minutes?” He crosses his hands and folds them over his lap like a professor waiting for a volunteer to answer the equation on the board. 

  “So in this metaphor, are you calling my pussy a microwave?” 

 But in true Zuko and Katara fashion, it was clumsy and a mess and could be erased with an emergency Burger King outing where they ate in silence and pinky promised never to speak of it again. 

 She wonders if Zuko should’ve been her first date to prom, too. 

 She wants to stop feeling so bothered . She couldn’t quite pin it, but lately everything he did frustrated the shit out of her. How he was taller than her now. How he didn’t need her to fight his battles because he goes to the gym now and wears a fake Gucci belt because he’s just so cool (brooding Asian guy is the trend, and Zuko thinks he’s the blueprint). How he said yes to going to prom with Mai, the prettiest girl in their grade.

 “Don’t look in there!” Katara yelps, a blush creeping on her cheeks. 

 “Why?” Zuko questions, taken aback. He was entirely too comfortable in her room.

 “Um. Maybe I don’t want a freak going through my dirty underwear pile!” Her eyebrows are halfway done, and she only has one eyelash glued on. She was stressed, scared her dress might not fit with how many of Sokka’s cookies she stress-ate because she just wanted the night to be perfect . 

 “Relax, what are a few discharge stains going to do to me, huh? If anything, it gives your pussy some much-needed personality.” Zuko wasn’t going to stop until he found his fake Gucci belt in Katara’s closet. 

 “Zuko!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs. 

 “Do I have to remind you about the time you broke our friendship bracelet while masturbating and I dug the bead out of your vagina like the good friend I am?” 

 She shoves him back from the closet, crowding in his space. That belt was going to remain in its rightful place. “Oh, fuck you! I took the fall for you when you opened your laptop in history class and forgot to exit from your “VIBRATING PANTIES” porn tab!” She pushes him before plopping on her bed. 

 Katara buries her face in her pillow at that point, too entirely embarrassed and body too hot to continue to look at his nonchalant face. He doesn’t quite remember when exactly Katara became so cute . 

 Pretty? Definitely. Fearless? For sure. 

 But blushing Katara, embarrassed Katara, cute Katara? 

 He thinks it’s because they rarely saw each other now, despite his patented place in her bed. His band, Hello Zuko, was aiming for at least a few dive bar performances to build a reputation, especially with their new title track “Tennis Ball.” Katara was a familiar face at their town’s soup kitchens.

  “Where are you going?” he would sleepily mumble as he tried taking his midday nap before late night performances.

  Katara’s hands are full with ingredients, swaying side to side and eyes red and drowsy. “Trying to temper chocolate. Why? What’s up?” 

 She never misses a performance, though. Comes to them with a sparkly poster doused in glitter, and t-shirts with his face on them and everything. He never misses a fundraising event, making sure to bring a steaming thermos filled with tea because Katara was never the type to remember to take care of herself, and always buys out her fundraising goodies (even her overbaked brownies.) 

 He pulls her up by her ponytail, cupping her face in between his hands. 

 “You look cute.” 

 “You look like the human equivalent of toeless socks,” Katara mumbles, face squished in between Zuko’s hands. “Why are you giving my clit piercing a kiss kiss right now? What do you want?” 

 Zuko shakes her head in between his hands. “Pinky promise me you’ll drop all penises to dance with me if they play any Usher song?” It was like he was in fifth grade all over again. “Call me a Nissan because I just want you Altima-self.” 

 She lets out a cackle, the sound nearly deafening. “Don’t worry, the DJ will get us falling in love again in no time.”  

 “Do you have to go with Jet?” He asks, pouting. He lays his head in her lap, too entirely preoccupied with picking at her pilling sweatpants to look at her questioning eyes. They promised they were going to be each others’ dates at the beginning of the school year. It was more fun going to dances with Katara. She knew how to do the worm and every lyric to every Rihanna song out there (but she refuses to sing any with Chris Brown parts). 

 “What? You know I like my men stupid.” She runs her hands through his locks, undoing the crunchy gel job that Iroh had painstakingly spent time on. Zuko didn’t have the heart to tell him it made him look like a youth pastor.

 “You do like your communal meat thermometers.” He wants to keep the hurt out of his voice. 

 She shoves him off her, getting up to put on the dress hanging off her closet’s door handle. “You’re going with Mai, remember?” She yells through the closed closet door. 

 “But the thing is, I’m not planning to fuck her afterwards at the shitty hotel like it’s some type of CW show with some old bitches playing teenagers!” 

 “Just say XOXO, Gossip Girl .” 

 He still resents her for getting him invested in Blair Waldorf’s headband collection. “It’s not my fault Jet looks old. He looks like he’s at least 27 for fuck’s sake!” His face grows more distressed as he spits out each word. He only said yes to going with Mai after finding out Jet asked Katara using some shitty poster that said “my heart is always running when I see you” with a box of Nike outlet sneakers after English class. 

 “I think you’re just jealous that I emptied my intestines for someone who is about to be in it within the next three hours. When have I ever done that for you?” 

 Zuko’s about to retort something until Katara slams open the door, flooding his eyes with a dusty blue, curve hugging dress that did weird things to him. Like make his heart beat out of his chest, and his throat all dry when he’s searching for the words to say. Looking for the right words that say he thinks it’s impossible someone’s smile could make sunsets brighter, make the stars twinkle even more, make the unthinkable just a fingertip’s grasp away. 

 “Can you see the outline of my underwear and/or desperation from the back?” Her spin has him bumbling like an idiot. 

 //

 He wishes it was Katara that night. Letting him shyly press his sweaty fingers into her waist as Katy Perry’s “E.T.” pierced their eardrums. He knows she would have pinched his nipples as punishment, all things considered. But the fluorescent lights of the disco ball would’ve highlighted how her pretty flush would dust her cheeks, and he would hold her close to his beating heart despite her complaining her foundation would stain his Target dress shirt, and everything would make sense. 

 “Did you cum?” Jet was absolutely pretty with an oh-so fat horse cock. Too bad he was like the Justin Timberlakes of the world, and always spoke unprovoked. 

 Katara scoffs. “Yeah, I came to my senses.” She flicked his forehead. “How would I do that? Tell me. How the fuck would a few thrusts and you panting your Sweet and Sour sauce breath in my ear get me off?” She shoves the sweating boy off her. “Can I say jk and will it make me a virgin again?” The hotel room had scratchy sheets and smelled like a waterpark bathroom. 

 He groaned. “I’m sorry .” He’s completely unremorseful. “Your tits smell like Cinnabon’s cinnamon rolls and I couldn’t help myself!” Katara is about to cut his dick off for breathing in the same vicinity as her, before a gasp stops her entire world. 

 //

 “Zuko!” she screeches, opening the hotel door with the same devastation as when Britney Spears discovered Ryan Seacrest wasn’t gay painting her features. 

 “You know what they say.” Zuko’s smirking, entirely ignoring Katara fuming. “Chlamydia is the powerhouse of the cell.”

 “You’re. A. Dick!” She says in between smacks to his head. Jet makes a speedy exit, still pantsless and clutching his suit to his chest, while Zuko mouths a ‘ call me’ to Mai, who amusedly waves goodbye to Katara. 

 “Oh god, this is exactly like the bead incident all over again.” 

 “ You’re not helping! ” 

 “Maybe we’ll find Atlantis up there too,” Zuko murmurs, concentrating on positioning the hotel’s mirror under her legs. 

 “Please, Rihanna. Have mercy on me.” Katara’s hands are in prayer mode as Zuko turns on his phone’s flashlight. “I will literally french braid my pubic hairs and never open my pussy to anyone ever again if this condom doesn’t kill me. Please don’t let it kill me. All those times I took an extra gummy vitamin were a joke . I never wanted to die, I just wanted to feel a little thrill in my life. Please—” 

 Zuko screams when the squelch of the condom splatters onto the mirror. 

 //

 “You’re wearing underwear under there right?” He likes the look of his blazer draping over her, buttoned to look like a chic, oversized dress and not because it was the easiest thing to throw over Katara to run and grab Plan B. 

 “No, because I would obviously let my fat cooter out, cute and bare and vulnerable in a Walmart.” 

 “A simple yes would have sufficed.” 

 She’s reaching for the box and wincing at the price when she feels a gentle nudge on her arm. “Ma’am, your entire pussy is out in a Walmart,” the employee breathes out pathetically. 

 “I am well aware.” She ekes out. 

 The employee eyes her up and down with a gaze that practically calls her a whore . “Please put her away.” Zuko’s face grows beet red as he tries holding back a laugh. 

 It was always easy like this. When the world was just Zuko and Katara, holding hands in her driveway while they watched the sun rise in his shitty Corolla. She’s still wrapped up in his blazer, he’s since loosened his cheap tie and his hair is sticking every which way. She likes his smile, especially now that it comes so easy. 

 He’s smiling a lot more now that his father is gone. Ozai essentially told Azula and Zuko to fuck off , and ran off to some big city to steer a hospital with too many controversies and too many white guys at the helm. Iroh came back from his meditation sabbatical, enthusiastic to take care of the siblings. Zuko seems a lot happier with Iroh around, and even spends nights sleeping in his actual bed. (Katara’s a little hurt, but keeps that to herself). 

 She wishes she could bottle up these moments with Zuko up and just hold them in her hands. Moments when they were still young and curious and still had time to wait for life to figure itself out. She wants to find a way to make these a permanent fixture, instead of memories that would fade with age. “Let’s get out of here,” he offers up, eyes starry. 

 “Yeah?” She folds her knees up to her chest, and he taps her under her chin to level their gazes. 

 “ Republic City . We can make something out of lives. Medical school, culinary school. Get out of this shithole. Get away from our past.” His smile is contagious. “Best friends, forever and ever, right?” 

 She’s so pretty, her wide eyes sparkling as they take in the rays of sun. She returns his smile. “Best friends, forever and ever.” 

 Katara remembers how Ursa would say Zuko always dreamt too big, his heart always wanting so, so much . 

 “It’s a blessing, but more of a curse,” she would note, with the wisdom only mothers are capable of possessing. Sometimes, Katara selfishly thinks the day Ursa left hurt her more than it hurt Zuko. They were impossibly close, to the point where Zuko even had to intervene when Ursa started siding with Katara during their arguments (he knows in his heart his Mother’s Day macaroni portrait of her was better). 

 She would wonder how the world could let her live like this, dangling something she’s always wanted right in front of her face, only to snatch it away. Wonder if it was easier to die, than live with a hole in her heart that seemingly doubled in size overnight. 

//

 “Zuko, please look at me.” 

 He’s mad, she could tell. With his pout and the way he was forcibly trying to squeeze his eyes in a glare. He’s been sitting in the same spot in her bed, eyes trained on tutorials on how to convincingly persuade your doctor to give you an adderall prescription and “who bit Beyonce” conspiracy videos. 

 “Well, what if I just wanted you to respect my privacy! For the first time in 15 years! Maybe I needed space!” She yelps after twenty minutes of the silent treatment. 

 Zuko sends her a look that has her freezing up on the spot. “Katara, you had a whole baby .”

 She felt thoroughly scolded, but she was stubborn. “And? What about it?” 

 “You had an entire one, and didn’t even bother to tell the godfather? When was I supposed to find out?” 

 Katara didn’t think that one through, to be honest. It was easy to forget, in between diapers that smelled like a fish sauce and an expired Vagisil smoothie, and balancing work. She lays down beside him, thoroughly exhausted after putting her little girl, Yue, down for a nap. “One, who made you the godfather? And two, I guess we’re just not close like that.” 

 “Look, I literally have your social security number memorized, and have practically given you a Pap smear. You really want to say ‘ we’re not close like that ?” He sends her a look that has her resolve faltering the slightest. “You did your pregnancy announcement like a Sailor Moon transformation sequence with before and after pictures of you being pregnant, and you didn’t think to fucking tell me?” 

 Katara gasps. “I had you blocked !” 

 “Azula’s a snitch!” He also got a glimpse of the photo of Katara in her hoe time dress that barely fit over her belly with the caption: how the mighty have fallen . He pauses, sucking in a breath of air for strength. The hurt flashes in his eyes and the only thing she could think to do was wrap him up in a familiar embrace. 

 At 19, Katara is so incredibly lost, and just wants her best friend by her side. 

 He’s busy, the summer before everything Republic City. Everytime she tries their house, Azula answers, rolling her eyes while clad in a Harry Styles shirt, because it’s a girl’s rite of passage to go through a One Direction phase and wear badly made merchandise from Hot Topic. He’s usually busy packing, or fucking Mai until she sounds like a car alarm during Fourth of July fireworks. 

 “Azula, no . You cannot kidnap Mai’s younger brother and trade him in for concert tickets to send a message.” 

 “Not even for floor ones?” Katara’s glare summed up her answer. “I used to look up to you,” Azula retorts, returning to her stan Twitter.

 She waits, waits, waits. The moans keep coming and she just rolls her eyes. Her stomach churns, mainly because she thinks Mai called Zuko’s dick The Pussy Penetrator every time he hit her g spot (you know what, good for her). But also because her scholarship to the university was less than she expected, and Hakoda didn’t want to cosign on a loan. She just wanted her best friend to be there for her. 

 She feels sick, sick enough to vomit in one of Iroh’s plants, while Azula rubs small circles into her back. 

 “You should’ve swallowed,” Toph reminds, bundling Katara’s thick hair into a ponytail as the girl hurled up her California roll. She’s so exhausted, she even leans her head against the Walmart toilet bowl, five positive pregnancy tests tossed carelessly beside her. 

 “Think it’s too late for that,” Katara grits out. “What are you doing?” 

 The last thing she expected was Toph’s hands gathering together in prayer formation. “Praying to Rihanna your period comes.” 

 Like many people her age, having a mental breakdown during a pregnancy scare and praying for a miracle in a public restroom was normal. But for the first time in her life, besides the time Rihanna willingly twerked on Drake at the 2011 Grammys, Ms. Robyn Fenty herself failed her. 

 “Fetus deletus that bitch! Fuck them kids !” She brings herself eye-level to Katara’s stomach. “Read the womb, bitch!” 

 “Did you just call my unborn baby a bitch?” Katara’s eyes are bleary from the smell of vomit and her future going down the drain.

 “You should’ve kept that bitch-baby in the drafts,” Toph sweeps the stray hairs from Katara’s watery eyes. “My cousin saved up for her abortion by running a pyramid scheme. I can get you her number.”

 Katara wanted to die. “I think I’m just going to crawl in this toilet and die. Call my brother if I don’t get flushed down all the way.” 

 “Again, I’m just a Walmart employee,” Toph snickers, helping the girl up. She’s rarely left her side since then. Their friendship just works, a pair of fuckups. The girl with the accident baby, and the Walmart security guard trying to figure out her own shit after running away from home. 

 “I should’ve been there!” Zuko reminds, tone heavy with betrayal.

 Katara remembered the few moments before he boarded the plane to Republic City. She wanted to be selfish. She wanted to tell him to not get on the flight, to keep holding her like he did at the entrance of the gate. She had a kiss ready on her lips that he wasn’t ready to give, backing away when their faces were too close, when she was too close. He just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving with regrets.

 “I should’ve been there holding your hand, letting you call me names, and fighting nurses if they breathed too close to this precious angel,” Yue holds his pinky with her little fingers, almost as though it was a natural reaction. His heart simply seizes up at the gesture, and he holds her tighter to his body. She was wailing after waking from her nap, colic crackling her throat for the last three months and causing her middle of the night wakeups to be painful and frequent. But with Zuko, she’s all calm and perfect and polite and beautiful and angelic. 

 “Didn’t know you liked kids this much,” Katara shrugs. She leans in, and Zuko throws his free arm around her. 

 “I’ll have you know I am the resident expert in telling children’s stories,” Zuko insists. 

 “Like?” Katara quirks up her brow. 

 “Like Rumpleforeskin, the mythical man who can weave majestic golden fleece from the ends of his pubic hair.” 

 She smacks him upside the head. “You’re disgusting .” She curls in deeper into his embrace. He had that twinkle in his eye that could mean he was going to masturbate to this moment in the shower later, or he was in love. It renders her breathless every time 

 She hopes when he looks at her he doesn’t see the eye bags, or the titty milk leaking everywhere, or the permanent crease in her brow. She hopes he could still see her, underneath it all. When she was just Katara . 

 “I guess, not telling you was just my way of keeping our dream alive.” She pauses, stroking Yue’s barely there hair. “I keep thinking that one day I could find the time to go to Republic City, and I don’t know. Get a chance to just be me .” 

 “Do you regret it?” Zuko’s rubbing circles into her back until she gets sleepy and her heart feels too full. 

 “I don’t know.” She tries, quiet, almost ashamed. “I don’t know.” 

 //

 At 21, Katara feels like she’s at the top of the world. 

 Not only did she get promoted from girl wearing a dumpling costume outside handing out 15% off coupons that only worked if you left a Yelp review, to a server in a shitty dim sum restaurant, she was also accepted in the culinary program at the local university. It wasn’t Republic City per say, but Yue could attend the nearby preschool and go to the university-run childcare program afterwards while Katara was working. 

 She even got a hold of Jet, who refused to disclose his location or job. But judging by the copious child support mandated by some judge who hated men as much as Katara did, he was doing well. He sometimes Venmos Katara a few extra dollars on Yue’s birthdays. 

 Sokka and Hakoda, while hesitant to the little girl’s presence early on, spoil her absolutely rotten. When they think Katara’s passed out after her 14 hour days, they’re red in the face, screaming at Zuko over the phone about who was going to get Yue the Peppa Pig Playhouse (complete with flashing lights) she always talks about. 

 Hakoda even tries at therapy, wanting to be there for the apple of his eye. Sometimes, Katara’s hurt he never tried for her, tried in her childhood. She’s happy for him, nonetheless. 

  (Mostly) everything was working out.

 “How are both my girls doing?” Zuko would always sing-song during his nightly Facetime calls. Yue would scream and snatch the phone from Katara’s hands, delighted at the sound of her one and only Uncle Zuzu. He’s an extravagant gift giver, regularly sending Yue glittery Hello Kitty and Wonder Woman backpacks. He even buys her a whole iPad for her fourth birthday, already coming with child safe settings on and YouTube loaded with her favorites (namely, Barbie: Fairytopia ). He’s guilty he couldn’t come home, but then again, he rarely ever did. Too consumed with work, grad school applications.

 Katara can’t help but feel her heart pulse the slightest bit faster during those calls, even if she shuts it down as quickly as it comes.

  He’s so good to her . 

 She used to cherish those moments he used to tell her secrets, dreams, everything in those hours early in the morning before high school would start. With approximately 3,209 miles between the two of them, she wakes up to texts instead. 

 **

Zuko: I dreamed that I was being held at gunpoint by one of those thicc caterpillars from A Bug’s Life , and if I didn’t finish the MCAT in approximately 20 minutes, they would shoot me in the face. The dump truck ass of those ants were the bullets

Katara: Please block my number

Zuko: No. <3

**

 He’s all gentle smiles and eyes squeezing into little half moons just like Yue’s after he plays a game of Facetime patty cake and messes up on the beat just to hear the little girl laugh. 

 The next month, Zuko had decided enough was enough . He missed his girl. 

 His hospital, for the first time in a year, was letting him have the weekend off. So he books Katara a ticket straight away, because he thinks he’s going to die if he has to be around people who don’t know who Megan Thee Stallion is. 

 “Boys only speak two languages. English and emotional manipulation,” Toph reprimands, hugging Katara so tight she could barely get in a word. “Please remember that.” 

 It was her first time leaving her hometown in her life, her first time on an airplane for God’s sake. She’s jittery though, the cushioned seats Toph somehow upgraded her ticket to (after covertly whispering with the gate attendant) doing nothing to alleviate her nerves. 

 When she jumps in his arms in baggage claim, he breathes in deep. Her hugs have always warmed his insides, and he didn’t realize how much he craved it until he was greedy, pressing into her and refusing to let go despite her many protests.

 “Come here often?” he mumbles, smiling into her shoulder. 

 Her cheeks grew hot at his touch. “Occasionally.” She whispers back. 

 He decided there and then in front of Gate 3 they needed to make up for lost time as quickly as possible. 

 The college party is entirely too sticky, entirely too messy for a proper (extremely) late 21st birthday celebration. Her crop top and big earrings and glittery eyeshadow and endless curves has Zuko wondering how much he’s missed in the last few years. When she hugs him close to her and screams out Nicki Minaj lyrics, he doesn’t remember her being so soft and even prettier. Beautiful. Breathtaking, knocking the wind out his lungs if she as so much blinked. 

 She looks like any 21 year old, without a care in the world, just figuring out their life. He wonders what this version of Zuko and Katara was. 

 Maybe they got to go to Republic City together. Maybe they work in the same building, and are just letting steam off from work. Maybe they loved each other. It was dangerous though. He feels as though she’s caging him in, that grip on his heart sparking up again without his permission. Her fake lashes he saw her glue on in the airport bathroom flutter about, hands coming up to accentuate her words every time she tries to scream something in his ear over the pulsating music. He just grips her waist harder between his hands, holding her tight.

 //

 In a perfect world, all she saw was him. She wishes it was him. She sometimes thinks she sees Zuko’s eyes in Yue. She sees his smile. She sees his heart. 

 While they’d spent the entire night stumbling through the city, his girlfriend was home. Barefoot, pregnant. Looking like the cover of some women’s lifestyle magazine, stray curls escaping her bun to frame her face in all its angelic glory. Glowy and flawless and every bit beautiful. Different from the girl Katara caught crying in the kitchen.  “You can hate me all you want, you can talk shit about me all you want. But I love him,” Jin insists. “I’m his girlfriend , for fuck’s sake. 

 Katara has to stop herself from recoiling. She had a specific vision of their future. One that included doing taxes together and matching sweaters and teaching him her new macaroon recipe and Yue balanced on his lap. 

 But one look at Jin, and it becomes glaringly obvious how little she fit in with his new life. 

 “I don’t hate you, Jin.” It’s every bit sincere, but the girl doesn’t look convinced. 

 Jin rolls her eyes. A pointed look freezing Katara in her place.

 “Ok, I might’ve complained once or twice about your VSCO filter choice.” 

 “Yeah, Zuko sent a screenshot of your texts to me instead of you by accident.” 

 “God, you know he always fucking does that? To be fair though, M05 is too orange and is not a good look on anyone. You can do better, I know you can.” The two girls laugh. It was devoid of any genuine emotion, just meant as an attempt to fill the empty space between them. “If I had known. Fuck, if I had just known, I’m sorry, Jin.” She had no idea Zuko had a kid on the way, that they were still living together and determined to co-parent while their relationship was in a weird limbo. If she was Jin, she would’ve kicked someone’s pussy and made a scene and set something on fire. But Jin wasn’t that type of girl. Jin was soft and pretty and looked like she smelled like an interior designer's perfectly bleached asshole. 

 “Do you love him?” Jin seemed to shrink into herself, small enough Katara might miss her in a blink of an eye. 

 Katara couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind the question. She thinks she’s too scared to. 

 Katara doesn’t know how to respond. She didn’t trust herself to speak. This Zuko wasn’t the Zuko she knew. She loved the Zuko who would steal people’s Netflix passwords off of 4chan, and cosplay as Todoroki at Anime Con to make a few bucks. Not the one who can afford sky rises in the big city. 

 He didn’t even tell her that his big internship in the city was for his father’s hospital, and he was next in line to running it. “You’re a lawyer with health insurance and your own Netflix account! You’re good for him, Jin.” Katara falters the slightest. “I just want to see Zuko happy.” 

 “Me too.” Jin says quietly.

 “Whatever, fuck Zuko !” She tries at extending the olive branch.  “I can’t believe you’re preggers!” She puts a gentle hand on Jin's belly, and her vagina immediately winces. “You know, your vag will never look the same, and you might grow a third boob in your armpit.” 

 “You’re lying .” 

 “Yeah, a lump of breast milk can form there, too!” Katara is about to scroll to the photo in her phone when Jin laughter breaks through the night. 

 //

 “I hope your dick gets bitten off mid-blowjob!” She whisper-screams, struggling with her suitcase until it smacks all at nearly every corner and edge. She was just making noise for the sake of making noise, but it made her feel better. 

 He didn’t expect waking up to a charge on his card for a flight booked in the last ten minutes, or Katara shoving his good mixer in her suitcase. 

 “You hate it don’t you?” He always loved it when Katara went into Hulk mode anytime a bully dared test her protective nature. While it was never entirely directed at him, he now understands exactly why Chan peed his pants. Katara was terrifying . 

 “What?” Zuko’s confused, rubbing an eye booger away. 

 “You loved it when I’m crying over Jet, crying over something, fucking something up in my life. Being mad at the world. You hate that I’m better, and making something of myself now!” She’s angry and grasping at straws. 

 Zuko furrows his brows, not sure where to progress from here. “Ok, run that by me again?” 

 The air vanishes when her stare cools over to absolutely icy.  “There’s nothing else I can give. So what the fuck do you want from me?” 

 He laughs, all hollow and almost mocking . “You know, I was afraid of you coming here.” He lies.  

 She stops in her tracks. “What the hell do you mean?” 

 “I thought...I thought you wouldn’t get this new me, because it’s different!” He protests. “See, this is exactly the reason why! You’re mad I can afford real Gucci !” 

 Katara recoils, looking embarrassed for him. God, were men so fucking stupid, and so proud of it, too. “Are you fucking serious.” 

 Zuko’s frustrated, running his hands through his hair. “What the fuck are we doing, Katara?” 

 “You tell me!” She demands. “I’m not that kind of girl, Zuko! I’m not that kind of girl that is going to break up a fucking engagement, or whatever the fuck you weirdos are doing!” 

 He throws up his hands. “I’m not happy! We’re not happy.” 

 “What? You think now that you’ve sold your soul to your piece of shit dad and you can buy jewelry that won’t turn your fingers green that I’m going to fuck you?” 

 “No! I’m not saying that—”

 Katara scoffs. “Then what the fuck are you saying? Grow up, Zuko. Grow the fuck up and just leave me the fuck alone .” 

 “You’re still Katara.” He throws his hands up in the air, trying to stop her. Even if he felt like his entire world was falling apart, there was one thing he would always be certain about. “I’m still Zuko. The same Zuko who loves you .” 

 Katara turns her head, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. “The thing is, this isn’t you, Zuko.” Katara says with finality. “It isn’t you .” 

 When she gets home, she spots it right away. On their dining table, white paper folded neatly,  Yue was the type of little girl who looked to both sides of the street before crossing, repeating it  two more times to be safe. She always took extra care to make everything even, never a wrinkle in sight on her homework. 

 The Crayola family portrait that brought to life everything she’d imagined and more. Katara doesn’t have the heart to look for longer than a second. 

 //

 At 27, Katara’s pretending that it’s the happiest day of her life. 

 She didn’t think he would listen to her, you know, men rarely did anything right. Zuko, though, heeds her warning and only calls exactly two hours before Yue’s bedtime like clockwork. There weren’t any surprise texts to wake up to anymore, no more evidence of Zuko in her life. She doesn’t even find out about Jin’s affair with one of those Axe commercial guys until months later. 

 When she goes to unblock his number and text him, to try and talk to him, she gasps. She sees those grey iMessage bubbles, and she’s ashamed her heart splutters, awakening a feeling she thought she’s dampened. She puts her phone down for milliseconds, before checking it again and again and again. She finally threw the damn thing across the room when a week passed. 

 She thinks it’s for the better, especially when she was sure she finally got things right with Jet. 

 “ We’ll make this shit work together.” Jet reassures, gathering her close to him she could see every little detail of him. “Like Kanye said, ‘you’re a MILF, and I’m a mother-fucker.” 

 She covers her ears, pushing him into the restaurant’s glass door. “No thank you. No more non consensual reciting of Kanye verses.” 

 “Yeezy, breezy, beautiful, baby. Get into it.” Jet winks, and Katara feels herself gagging again.

 Then again, Katara always had a thing for stupid. And for three easy payments of $Penis.99, he had an all access experience to her pussy and her trauma. 

 “And he bought me those carrot cake cupcakes I always look at when we go to the supermarket but I never want to chance it because it could have raisins instead of nuts and I think I hate raisins more than I hate white men named Nathaniel.” 

 Toph jabs Katara in the forehead. “Wow, he spared $5 on some dry pastries, and your pussy was suddenly screaming pick me, pick me !” 

 “They were gluten free, too,” she points out. “Plus, my pussy doesn’t scream!” 

 “Oh right, my bad! It whispers!” 

 “ Toph !” 

 “Last night I heard it go wash me! Wash me!” 

 It felt good with him, though. It felt good to see him help Yue with math homework, making dinner in their little kitchen, pressing kisses to her in the morning despite her breath smelling like Khloe Kardashian’s earring backing pussy. Someone to come home to. 

 “Piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you!” She was punching him over and over again until her knuckles were ripped raw, sitting straight on his throat. Beating him stupid in the middle of her shift. He thought he could get away with it. With Katara now stuck in the kitchen as one of the head cooks, and the fact he had a reservation in one of the private rooms for him and his secretary to go over...numbers, he didn’t think much of it. 

 Too bad Toph was too invested, and had a friends-to-lovers storyline to live vicariously through. 

 “Scram, fuglies!” Toph screamed to other customers who had already started chanting “WorldStar!” 

 Katara lost her job, lost her mans, lost a section of her eyebrow because Toph accidentally tried helping and swung the wrong direction. 

  “Catch me outside, how ‘bout that!” She yelps triumphantly, despite the fact Katara was cradling her own bloodied face. 

 And here she was, about to lose her best friend, too. 

 She accidentally Facetimed his old number, and spent the last hour mulling over her feelings with an executive of a porn studio who picked up mid-shoot. “Just tell him you love him!” The balding man is exhausted.

 “What do I even say? Do I tell him, ‘I think I’ve always loved you?’ Is that too cheesy? You know that feeling when your heart just—Oh my fucking god! Is that Sandy Cheeks from Spongebob ?!” She screams, slamming her hands over her eyes. The squirrel’s melons-for-tits would never be erased from her memory.

 He only has fear in his eyes when he looks at her. “You didn’t see anything.” Robert bites out, promptly hanging up. 

 In her post-Jet purge, she realized she wasn’t the type of ex dead set on destroying his things. After all, she was selling his light-up keyboard to pay for Toph’s birthday boob job. Her residual anger was instead, spent hacking away at the drawer he always kept locked. Until she found it.  

 A letter from him. 

 “ I’ve always been afraid that our friendship would’ve spilled over until all I could do is categorize it with four simple letters .” Katara whispers, eyes frantically scanning the paper. “And I’m done being afraid .” 

 “The four letters he’s talking about is D-U-M-B  B-I-C-T-H . Dumb bitch. The ‘bitch’ is silent.” Toph insists. “I can’t believe you let a balding bum, whose credit score tanked because he invested his entire savings in Shake Weight Milkshake making machines, knock you up instead of Zuko.” 

 “It was innovative at the time,” she whispers. 

 “Fill the void in your heart, not your pussy.”

 She's whipping out her shitty MacBook Air, and praying his email still worked. But when she calls all she sees is her.

 “You told me to come to Republic City and find him!” Mai exclaims, holding up her hand where a big ring blinding the fuck out of her. 

 She feels her heart crumble at the same time she crushes the letter in her hand. 

 “I did do that, didn’t I?” Katara winces. The time the model stopped by in their hometown, Katara was still happy and getting her pussy pounded regularly and let that shit get to her head. She thought it would be a blessing in disguise, and wanted to help Zuko out, too. 

 "Fuck." 

 //

 Their wedding looked ripped out of a 2014 Basic Bitch Pinterest board, and she’s definitely sure she couldn’t be happier. 

 “Why is her name spelled like ‘Mai’ and pronounced ‘May?’ Like, shouldn’t it be spelled like ‘Mei?’” 

 “Katara, you’re just being a bitch,” Toph reminds while Katara stares at the sign with their wedding hashtag in front of the photobooth with all the ‘YOLO’ signs and 2013 mustaches.

 “I am well aware!” She asserts, chin jutting out. 

 Mai’s New York Fashion Week ready body was gorgeous, perfect in Zuko’s hold. 

 Katara wished life was like a rom-com. Where she could burst through the doors, declare her love, piss on him in her ugly, big bridesmaid dress and mark her territory once and for all. 

 But life wasn’t a movie. Life was just this shitty piece of dumpster fire shit and was always fucking her over like the Target self-checkout line camera. 

 What could she do? Deliver some long-winded speech about how she would go to realign the stars in the heavens if it meant a chance to rewrite their fate? That she hoped she visits his dreams before his mind could settle into reality, the same way he visited hers and overstayed his welcome every single time? Make everyone uncomfortable and wonder if they boned? 

 Then again, she was never going to be the one to block her best friend’s blessings. Not on the happiest day of his life.

 “I think this is the happiest day of my life.” Katara says seamlessly. 

 Zuko sees it though, sees right through her and has to stop himself from reaching out to her. 

 “It wasn’t ever easy being Zuko’s best friend. I mean look at him now, getting married to someone perfect . He’s not even in the same ballpark, league, or hell, stadium porta potty as her!” 

 Zuko ducks his head with a brief pout that breaks Katara’s heart. Everyone laughs in spite of him, until he joins in, too. “You know, it’s easy to pretend that finding love is easy. You could find love in all the little things in your life. All the people, all the details. It’s easy to say you always, completely, truly love someone. Because that’s what we want love to be, right? At the surface, sure.” She folds the flimsy paper she had on hand, nothing was written on it anyways. “You want it to be perfect.” 

 “But the love everyone works so hard to get, is the love that’s hard . It’s the love that isn’t safe. The love that challenges, excites you, the love that will never have limits. The love that’s messy and beautiful all at the same time.” She looks at him, truly looks at him for the first time in years and all she could do was smile. 

 “It’s easy to find love, but it’s near impossible to find a soulmate.” She raises her glass. “Join me in a toast to the bride and groom. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.” 

 And while everyone is gathered out on the dance floor, she’s sobbing pathetically and smearing the winged eyeliner she worked so hard to perfect on the car ride there. Trying to stop any of the pain from consuming her. 

 She’s out on the rooftop of the venue, the cold air whipping her face as she tries lighting up a blunt. 

 “Are you getting high at my wedding !” Zuko is incredulous, and shocks Katara enough to drop the joint off the roof. 

 “On all things Fenty Beauty, bitch what the fuck?” Katara wipes the tears from the corner of her eyes. 

 “The flower girl wanted to see her mommy.” But Katara sees right through Yue’s little act. Pretending to sleep so she could be held by Zuko (me too, girl. Me too). 

 It felt dangerous, the way she could toy with his heart, his own personal defibrillator shocking it back to life. She’s pretty even with red-rimmed eyes, with the fake smiles he knew was trying to appease him to leave her alone. If anything, all it does is make him want to kiss her until her troubles are gone. 

 He wanted to do a lot of things at that moment. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin, tell her that above all else, he missed his girl the most. But, he had everything on his plate and then some. 

 “The chicken was dry as fuck.” He blurts, wiping the sweat from his face. Only Katara could send him back a few decades. “I wish you could’ve catered it.” 

 “Yeah?” She laughs and wants to call him out for stalking her company’s Facebook page. “Remember you tried my new recipe and you vomited all over the front row at your fourth ever Hello Zuko performance?” She misses his messy hair, when he didn’t look so clean cut and rich bitchy. 

 “I didn’t know you weren’t done cooking it!” 

 She shoves his head, and he joins her, dangling his feet precariously off the roof. 

 When she’s here with him, when he has her in his hold for the first time in years, he sees his whole life with just a glimpse in her eyes. And all he wants to do is build a machine and reverse all the time that’s passed them by. 

 “I made a mistake.” Zuko breathes out, eyes nervously darting around. 

 As sure as he was that Nicki Minaj deserved a Grammy, he was sure he loved her. 

 “W-What?” Katara blinks at him. 

 “I made a mistake, Katara.” He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, carding his hand through his hair. Looking every bit devastatingly handsome. “I realized something. After the speech, after just, everything.” 

 “I realized I just can’t have my cake and eat it, too.” 

 Just like that, just with the way he built her up, it comes tumbling down. 

 “So what are you saying?” Her heart was on the verge of cracking in half and he didn’t even know it. Because all he could pin her with a look she couldn’t read, and she thinks if he was a smarter man he would’ve at least pretended that it hurt him to hurt her. 

 But it did. 

 It broke him, ripped him in half to see her face turn to steel right before his eyes. 

 “What I’m saying is, after all these years.” He doesn’t have it in him to face her. “I think I have to finally let you go, Katara.”