#i cant believe this took me a month to write

[come-on-darling-honey]

The Beaten Path, [Paul Lahote x reader.]

Walking through the woods to meet your ex-best friend Paul should've been an easy task but a red eyed creature changed that. Then a silver wolf changed it even further.

word count- 6k [my longest fic ever !!! [fem! reader, no biological factors mentioned] [reader is Quills cousin but no race is mentioned, in order to be accessible to all readers!]

warnings- mentions of ed!bles, nothing explicit.

I couldn’t see three feet ahead of me. The usual light touches of the leaves grazed and screamed at my skin, my face, my legs, my arms. I couldn’t stop, just keep climbing, keep going. The trees were thick and steady, the rough bark under my feet felt as if I could never fall. My fingertips gripped onto the rough bark; a blistering pain followed every movement up. I ran until I couldn’t breathe anymore, seeking solace in the high ground of the tree as a vantage point upon the misery I’d ran from. Climbing into the vivid greenery I couldn’t breathe, my lungs felt strained as each breath left rapidly. My feet and hands moved quicker than I could think, the only thought in my mind was run. Run from the creature that grabbed me. The foreign beast that didn’t belong on the hiking trails I grew up on. Even climbing now, I could see it. The creature’s skin was uncomfortably pale and freezing cold, like rocks. Empty red eyes, that were dull flames staring at me.

That creature belonged in the urban walls. Among the garbage of modernity. Not the beaten path. Locals referred to it as ‘the bush’, warning tourists visiting First beach to ‘stay away from the Bush, there’s creatures in there that would make a beast cry.’ The creature was of no doubt agile but held no comfort in the ground, its feet kept slipping as they never mastered the placement on the dry dirt floor. They tried grabbing onto a branch, snapping it by accident. Its red eyes screamed their discomfort. But most locals in Forks and La Push learnt how to walk the path. The dirt path and how to climb along the rough trees. Even on this unusually hot day where the dirt hardened, it was home.

I’d reached the west clearing when the creature found me. It was fast. Too fast. But it was frozen. For two seconds. Two glorious seconds where I managed to run to the treeline, skidding down the paths I’ve known since childhood. Climbing the tallest tree to see where it was. Turning around I wish I never had, the creature and its pale body had been ripped apart by a beast. Snarls and a viscous thrill filled the air, the swell of the trees forgotten now. The beast was a large… silver wolf. A glorious wolf. I’d seen wolves in the bush before but none that big. It was unnaturally big. Bears couldn’t even compare to its size; the sleek silver coat was so thick I expected it to sling it off to reveal a beast of a man. Two other wolves appeared helping the silver wolf, a black one and a brown one. My hiking boots felt too heavy on my feet, suddenly I felt this inhuman urge to pray. But I couldn’t move, think or pray. My movements were singular. Every slight change in my body a fault of my rushing mind. It was odd, I felt no fear as I watched the strange wolves tear the creature apart. Was it because I knew they wouldn’t be able to reach me this far up the trees or the deluded voice whispering in the back of my head that they saved me. That the creature that looked so human, it was inhuman was the desired target and they had let me run away. I wanted to give the wolves my onliness so they would protect me, love the dirt before me. But I don’t know why, and I could never explain it, but I felt as if they knew. They saw and bled with me. Or they were too busy tearing apart the creature. The guttural snarls sounded suffocated with marble or rock, every bite I could hear sounded more like a crack than a tear. It was haunting. The wildflowers of the clearing swayed in the wind, getting crushed by the fight.

There was a thick gust of wind swirling around me, my body felt as if the wind flew straight through. I could smell the sweet fragrance of the leaves that surrounded my body, shielding me. I emersed myself within the evergreen. Rough bark grazed my fingertips as I gripped onto the tree as a lifeline, my fingers still sore from my frantic climbing. My feet were warm and steady, the hiking boots, while too heavy and confining also helped me. I was alert. The trees whispered, well the barks, growls and screams were louder, but I couldn’t focus on them. The air was wet. It’d rained in the night, but the hot summer sun had dried most of the dampness, yet it lingered. It was weird that I couldn’t hear anymore, only a constant ringing pouncing through my ears. There was a lump in my pocket, remembering the edible stashed in there I was glad I decided to take it after I met up with Paul, glad my drug induced self wasn’t wandering the bush about to run into the creature. My reasoning being I’d need the small edible after to deal with whatever he was going to say and to manage the emptiness I’d been feeling since I had last seen him.

It had been hours since the attack. The wolves had left, burying the creature’s body in the dirt. But I couldn’t leave, I could barely move or think. What if there were others? Of course, my family would start to worry, so would Paul. I’d promised to meet Paul on the north clearing, not west but I’d been side-tracked, so he’d no doubt start to look for me. He’d always look for me. Even though I was angry at him, he’d find me and help me get rid of this dull pain in my head. I was no longer perched in the tree rather sitting on the thickest, highest branch. The sun had started to set when I felt myself drifting asleep, thankful that I’d been able to rest on the branch without threat of falling.

I felt a burning in my throat before I felt the cold. Wearing short cargo shorts and a thin t-shirt was a smart idea through the burning sun of the daytime as I hiked but it was now the biggest mistake I could’ve made. Carefully finding my footing, I climbed down the tree. Shivering, I wanted to vomit. Fear kept itself harboured in my throat. As I reached the ground my head spun, looking for red eyed creatures. Was it even real? Had I fallen and gotten the concussion instead of being thrown? But then how, in my concussed state, did I manage to climb the largest tree if it wasn’t for adrenaline? What I found was safer yet in my moment of haze from lack of adrenaline and possible concussion I was terrified. That silver wolf was there, at the bottom of the tree. How hadn’t I seen it? It was so large I must’ve been blind. But even if this wolf saved me, I was too close to it. Unforgivably close to an animal that could rip me in half with one movement. The ringing had subsided, I could barely hear the deep breaths as the wolf slept. Its paws spread to the empty sky, waiting for a sun kiss.

Moving as slow and steady as I could, the wolf awoke. Watching me with a soft kindness I’d never seen before. No one could ever explain to me why the hell I felt like I’d seen those eyes a hundred times before. Why I felt safe. I had begun to place some distance between us as I reached the end of the clearing, up north, Would I even be able to see the path? I stepped onto three stones, following the path over the deep lake, my head swirling and my eyes gathered a black haze. I couldn’t see. Even in the moonlit darkness, I couldn’t see anything.

I heard my name being shouted.

I kept walking.

After the fourth yell I realised who it was, Paul. His voice was dry and scratchy, but it was him, there was no one else it could be.

I turned quicker than I had moved in hours. Paul stood there wearing… almost nothing? He’d yelled my name again but my head was spinning. I needed to yell to him to be fucking quiet. That there is a massive wolf behind him and he could get killed if he didn’t shut up. But I couldn’t. Something wet hit my knees, I’d fallen into the edge of the lake. Blood flew from my knees onto the bedrock. My hands in the water up to my mid-arm. Everything was so blurry. All I could see was a shimmer from the moon onto the water. Then I felt him, hands coming onto my waist, pulling me up. I couldn’t speak. I just wanted sleep. Something to give me energy again.

I don’t know how I got here. In a large warm bed. Warm orange blankets encased my body, wooden walls holding me with a soft fondness. I could hear shushed talking now. I was at Emily’s. Her cabin was so warm. Looking down I could see my hiking boots strewn across the wooden floor, my shorts and shirt on a pile on top of the old red rug. Immediately I looked down to see old pyjamas I’d left here on my body, praying it was Emily who’d changed me. Coffee danced through the air; I couldn’t help but picture the familiar kitchen. Wooden furniture that had be loved and worn by the people I held dearest, the yellow and orange rug that Emily had made with her aunt, and Paul sitting at the table. His long hair framing his beautiful tan face. The dim, homely lighting of the kitchen would encase him, and he’d seem alive.

This was the first time in weeks I was going to see him, well technically the second time in weeks. I’d bumped into him as I was leaving Emily’s, he’d stared at me in shock. I was angry but I held no grudge. I held a grudge for weeks; bile rose in my throat when I thought of him. When our friends angrily spat his name. We’d be in school and see him, angry rants and swears flooded the air at his lack of loyalty and cruelness.  I couldn’t stop thinking about him though, Emily had told me I should just give in and see him. She’d been very persistent. Despite always helping me leave before Paul would arrive with Jared and Sam. I owed her, I guess.

“You’re awake!” A sweet voice said as the door opened, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts. Two long dark braids framed her beautiful face. She wore a green t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, holding a glass of water. Emily came over to me and started fussing over my head and that I should slowly drink some water, but also lay back and not push my body too far.

“how’d I get here?” I pushed out of my throat, it felt grainy, like someone had put a filter into my throat.

“Paul found you, sweetie.” She said, redoing the braid down my back. Her thin fingers moving to my shoulders lightly massaging them.

“You’re knees and hands are kinda cut up” a familiar voice said from the doorway, I hadn’t seen Paul and Sam standing there. They must’ve been there the whole time. He was worn down, under eye bags dark and large. I’d only met Sam a handful of times; he’d looked at me in such an odd way. Waiting for something, but now he looked oddly satisfied. I never thought I’d be wishing for the odd discomfort again. Sam was larger than Paul, but Paul normally at least, was quicker. He’d slide in before anyone else, in school, in gym and when we played as kids. Even on hikes he’d always reach the goal first.

Sam called my name, pulling my attention away from Paul, who looked incredibly dishevelled and stressed.

“When you’re fully rested, we have something to tell you but for now you need to eat and rest.” As if Sam rung a bell in Emily’s head, she got up swiftly and went pass the two men, probably to the kitchen. Sam followed her, laughing lightly at her.

Still standing in the doorway, Paul stared at the floor. He looked so tired, I signalled for his attention then to the bed beside me. He didn’t lay next to me like he normally did rather he sat on the edge. Somehow that hurt more than anything else. He tucked some fly aways form my braid behind my ear smiling weakly. Then pulled his hands into his lap.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down. Tears filled his eyes. I realised now he was wearing a t-shirt; one I’d bought him. I’d wanted to buy him hiking boots, so he’d stop wearing that grim pair of vans he’d gotten when we were fifteen, but his feet kept growing and I only saw the point in buying him a stretchy shirt, three sizes too big. It was snug on him now, but it didn’t look like he could physically grow anymore.

“I don’t understand” before he could answer I continued, “why are you sorry?” the tears fell, I grabbed his hand pushing every muscle in my body to move closer to him.

“I should’ve helped you.”

What was he saying? He had nothing to do with the creature. It felt like my legs and arms burned as I remembered the creature being torn limb by limb. The great silver wolf that fell asleep at the foot of my tree, keeping me safe. How I didn’t run, maybe it was the concussion making me delirious or it was intuition.

“The wolf didn’t hurt me!” I almost shouted, getting defensive over it. There’s no way he could’ve thought that is what hurt me. He looked shocked. His mouth hung open softly, shock clearly sitting in his eyes. “There was this-” How on earth could explain this without sounding insane “this creature and it threw me…” trailing off I realised how mad I must sound but something in his expression made me carry on “… and the wolf, the silver one, saved me. I climbed up a tree and the wolf stayed there! Like- like it was guarding me” I was desperate at this point, begging that he’d understand. Or at least he’d think I’d hit my head harder than Emily originally thought. My throat scratched; I shouldn’t have yelled.

But he laughed. Grabbed me into a bear hug and laughed. He was still crying; he was crying harder than before. But he laughed.

“Did the wolf seem… familiar?” He asked, I would’ve taken this as a joke, but he was watching me with a constant sincerity, almost begging me for the truth. “Because it was and I know this is insane but you have to believe me.” He added, desperate.

“I believe you.” God, I wished I didn’t because I also wasn’t completely following what he was saying but I’d believe him.

The next twenty minutes were a haze of confusion, disbelief and hunger.

I knew the tribal history; my grandparents told me and my cousin Quill all of them. Quill’s tall friend, who I couldn’t remember the name of, had been calling Paul and his friends the hall monitors on steroids, I’d laughed at the time when Quill told me. Mostly because Quill kept quizzing me on Paul and if I knew anything, he looked like an angry squirrel being swallowed by his grey sweatshirt. I knew about certain men of the tribe who were in the three bloodlines and that they would protect us. As wolves, since that was their soul, but they were stories. Stories made by the Elders or even the elders, elders to keep the tribe’s history alive and interesting… and Paul was telling me it was all true.

That the reason he’d left my garden almost shaking in anger was because his body was throwing him into his first phase. That he’d been in incomparable pain. That I’d hated him and cursed him for weeks for leaving me, that he didn’t want to. Sam had given him an order and he’d no choice but to submit. I couldn’t be angry at Sam, no, it was for the safety of the community, for my safety and my cousins.

His hand traced down my back, beside my braid. It was a perfect sensation. A hundred tiny graces upon me. It hadn’t felt like this before when he touched me. It was as exciting and as explosive before. Now it was as if his hand had always been there.

“What are you thinking?” his voice was low, sweet and fanned by his breath next to my ear. We were so close. He’d moved closer to me after he’d explained the big thing. I thought him turning into a wolf would be the biggest news but then he told me about… imprinting. That he’d imprinted on me. That he couldn’t stop thinking about me, since we were kids. That all the imprint bond had done is prove his feelings.

“I’m not too sure.” Before he moved his hand away, I grabbed it, “I’ve always liked you, but I don’t know, you turn into a wolf, Paul. A wolf, it’s just… it’s a lot.”

“I understand.”

“But I do like you,” I noticed a small bird sitting in the tree outside the window. A black-capped chickadee, small and fragile but with an attitude larger than the moon, they’d always commute to the bird feeder in my grandma’s lush garden. ‘they’re a sign of content, dear’ I remember my grandmother telling me as I grew. I have contentment with Paul, he is adventure and roughness yet a peaceful whirl of wind. The hot sun on my back and the smiling grace of a clumsy fawn in spring. Sometimes my grandma would say that they can see the future, when I was a kid, the concept enamoured me. I’d practically ran to school the next day, sitting down in English class I turned around to face Paul and told him that those tiny, sweet birds can see the future.  He’d laughed and told me they couldn’t but we both spoke about it for hours after school. 

I heard his laugh and could already see his smile.

“Do you remember when we were kids, old Billy Black told us about the ancestors for the first time and we ran off to play in the ocean.” He moved closer to me, thighs touching.

“I remember my Nana and your grandfather laughing at us when a wave knocked us to shore.” I laughed with him, the pain from before now a dull ache. “And quill chasing us back into the sea.”

Quill. Does he know? It could happen to him. Has it already happened to him? He’s of the three bloodlines, we’re of the Ateara bloodline, it could happen. My tiny baby cousin could be subjected to revolting pain and his body reshaping, throwing him violently into this world. If it was anything like Paul had described, it to be he was about to be in an indescribable amount of pain.

“Will it happen to Quill?” I stopped laughing. All happiness had been scraped out of me. Barren would be the word to describe it.

“Sam thinks so, so does your grandfather,” my head pounded. My body shifted before my mind could. Of course, he knew but why would he know? How could my own granddad not tell me. Not let Quill and I into the world we both might’ve been subjected towards. “Your grandparents wanted to tell you both everything but they… feared it would trigger Quill to phase.” He added on, his hand reaching mine. It’s like he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it, like it was as simple and as common as breathing. When his hand gripped mine, I knew he was right, that it was all real.

“Do they know about the imprint?” I asked, he looked away from me.

“Yes, I wanted to tell you first, but you wouldn’t see me, and I couldn’t keep going.” He stopped, breathing heavily “Sam told them, they were worried about you and the impact the bond was having.”

“What do you mean?” Was this the cause of my headaches and insomnia? I’d been using some medication to sleep and it just led to some intensely horrific nightmares. Had Paul felt this? Had he felt worse? He certainly looked worse. Paul affirmed my thoughts, but it seemed he got the worst of it. He was in physical and mental pain at the thought of me hating him. His right hand lightly traced circles on my thighs. We spoke for hours till Emily came in and called us for food. I adjusted to being with Paul again quicker than breathing. He was glued to me. His warm body centred me, we laughed and joked with Emily, Sam and Jared. They spoke about Embry Call, one of Quills friends, how he was showing signs of changing. He was the tall friend I remembered, he was so sweet and shy. I couldn’t stomach the idea of that boy going through the pain the men around the dinner table went through. But he wouldn’t be alone. I guess that was something. God Quill was going to kill me if he finds out I know. At least I can call my grandma and talk to her about it.

“Oh um, I think I should get going,” I said standing up. I’d just noticed how dark it was outside it couldn’t be earlier than 1am, and as someone who lived with her Grandparents, 1am was not an ideal time to get home.

“I’ll drive you.” Paul said, his voice whirled around me, encapsulating me and holding me. The air was freezing as it hit our faces, walking to Pauls truck I laughed when he ran ahead of me to open my door. Everything felt so easy again. Paul lived five minutes away from me, we used to carpool to school every day. Stopping at the Sonic to get coffee and food. Singing off-key to whatever cassette we could find. We’d go and hike in the Olympic national park on the weekends, spend the whole day together and then the whole night. It didn’t feel like we’d spent an hour apart, let alone weeks. The ride was short and clam, the streetlights illuminated the road pathed by trees. There was an almost hidden path that was a sharp left to get to my house.

“I know it’s late….” I trailed off as we arrived at the front of the big house. “But is there any chance you could stay the night?” as we got out I noticed not only the porch light was on but so was the light to the kitchen. Someone was awake, and it wasn’t my grandparents who go to sleep at 10pm every night. “Who is that?” I asked, drawing Paul’s attention away from my face, how long had he been looking at my face? My knees ached, a throbbing pain from where I fell over in the bush. Paul walked towards the front door, opening it quietly. His shoulders were tense and I couldn’t see his face but I doubted it’d be very friendly to any intruders. The door creaked open, I closed it behind me. We took our shoes off, socked feet hitting the wooden floor. My home always smelt like incense, my grandma burned it everyday before she went to sleep, a habit I’d picked up from her.

“Quill! What the fuck!” I whisper shouted seeing Quill’s stocky figure eating cereal. He looked at Paul with a shit-eating smile on his face. “It’s 1am what are you doing here?”

“Gran called me cause you” he emphasised, pointing at me, “Didn’t come home!”

“Well, I’m home so thanks but go sleep in the guest room.” I tried to push him away, but he stayed put, staring at Paul. I knew the two almost got into a fight the other day if Sam hadn’t stepped in so my hope for a sweet loving interaction was so far away it was learning to read a map to go further away from the two men in my kitchen. “Please don’t you two.” I sighed, grabbing bread and butter.

“Why is he here?” Quill asked, cereal in his mouth and eyes piercing at Paul.

“Your cousin, who lives here, invited me in.” Paul’s voice was solid, but his tightened jaw showed how thin his patience was.

“You shouldn’t take in strays, especially ones who leave you alone for weeks.” Quill said practically spitting at Paul.

“You know nothing about this.” Paul shoved his finger into Quills chest. Of course, Quill knew exactly what button to push. I sat down on the counter, eating toast and pushing my socked foot between the pair to keep them apart.

“Guys, 1am, people are sleeping. Don’t.” my voice was cool; I knew neither of them would do anything but my head still hurt so I didn’t want to entertain them. Then I felt a cool hand grab my leg.

“What the fuck did he do to you.” Quill seethed. Staring at the dried blood on my legs.

“I fell Quill, stop being protective. I’m an adult, I can handle myself.” He didn’t look like he was going to take this well, always keen to having an overdramatic imagination. His grip tightened on my leg. “Seriously Quill, drop it.” My voice was deeper now. I didn’t want this to be a spectacle. Paul was staring at him, almost daring him to say what he was thinking. To give him a reason.

“He wouldn’t hurt her, darling. Let go of her leg.” We all turned to see my grandma in the doorway, her hair out of its usual braid, cascading to her hips. She knew about Paul, about the imprint bond. Of course, she knew but this wasn’t going to make it easier to explain to Quill.

“You woke up Gran well done idiot.” I whispered kicking Quill lightly. She made her way over to us, checking over the scrapes on me. She scolded us for being loud and then Paul and I for staying out so late. That despite us being adults I live her roof and should always listen to her. which i knew of course.

“You should’ve called little bird,” she muttered putting her hand to my cheek, she was cold compared to Paul who had grabbed my hand at some point. “Quill go to bed sweetheart.” Quill was about to protest but the glare he was given shut him up and he sulked off to the guest room down the hall but not before looking at me. I felt a swell of guilt raise within me. He looked so hurt. Liked I’d listened to the pain the sound of drums caused him and then proceeded to dance to the thumping beat. My hand tightened around Pauls. I looked down, my cheeks were hot in shame.

“He’ll understand one day.” Gran said, cleaning the scrapes, I felt a sting as the alcohol wipe hit my skin.

“I don’t want him to, he’s only 16 Gran. At least Paul had graduated high school when it happened to him.” I said my eyes following her actions as she teetered around the kitchen.

She and Paul soothed me, it got to the point where it sounded as if they were soothing themselves. Knowing one day Quill would understand if the Cullen’s didn’t leave soon.

Paul slept in my room that night and for every following night for the next two months until one night we made the decision to sleep at Pauls house. We weren’t expecting his dad to rush in at 3am, however.

He called our names. “It’s Quill.” He was holding the phone, pulling it from the kitchen through the one-story house. Despite being dreary and sleepy Paul and I immediately pulled ourselves apart grabbing clothes and shoes as quick as we could. Quill had a fever all week, he was sweaty and vomiting alot. I had wished it was just a sickness that he'd gotten from a friend, but I should've known better.

“Where is he?” I asked as Paul jogged to his truck, turning on the ignition.

“He was at your grandmas but he ran into the woods.” He said, leaving the house with us “Paul you should go find him, I’ll drive.”

“I think I’d be the last person he’d wanna see.” Paul said getting into the truck. I got in too, Pauls dad asked one more time if his son was sure, “I am dad, go back inside before the boys wake up.” His brothers were young and had school in the morning. I’m sure even though they have no idea what is happening they’d love to use it as an excuse to bunk school. The drive was quick and a complete blur.

Arriving at my house I saw my grandmother crying into my grandfathers’ arms. Her long hair melted into his, they fell into this whirl of grief together. There was something oddly haunting about that and yet beautiful. I’d found out recently it was my grandmother’s father who had been a shifter like Billy Blacks Grandfather. The pain was recognised by her, she knew it. She’d breathed it, I wonder if she ever could’ve imagined this would’ve all happened again. All this pain and anger. The lights in the house were all on, it was freezing, the wind was sharp.

“He screamed when he shifted.” A slight voice said interrupting my thoughts as Paul and I got out of his truck, his arms weaving around me. It was Emily, she wore her soft pink pyjamas and Sam’s denim jacket drowned her frame.  She looked just as tired as I felt.

“Where’s Sam?” Paul asked, it sounded broken, like there was bile raising in his throat. I knew he didn’t really want to see Sam, to be told to do something he deeply doesn’t want to do. But he respected Sam, loved him like a brother. He’d kill for him like a brother. He told me one night in hushed voices as our limbs entangled how he wished he’d known Sam and Jared before all of this, how it felt like he had been known by them so well he had finally felt seen.

“He’s looking for Quill, he said to tell you to stay with the family.” His chest exhaled heavily. His arm tightening around me. When I looked up at him I hadn’t even noticed the fear in his eyes till Emily walked away and he looked back at me.

“He’ll be okay. Scared but okay,” He whispered guiding me over to the little cluster of love that had formed for Quill. Everyone was whispering. We couldn’t speak any louder in case he heard us, frightened and confused. One wrong word had every persons throats suspended in the cold air of a Sunday night. Monday morning, I amended as I looked at the old leather watch on Billy Blacks wrist. Before I could think I was pulled into my grandparents. I couldn’t breathe, lungs constricting and thoughts blurring. My tears were hot and choked as I cried onto my grandpa’s shoulder like I was five again. A small child who had fallen from a tree or who just missed her cousin and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t live with us all the time. I just want to know he’s safe. He’ll be safe I know but I don’t know.

I wasn’t sure for how long I stood and cried but I felt a familiar warm hand on my waist pulling me into an even more familiar chest. Paul’s hand stroked my hair as I cried. My head hurt.

“They have him, he’s okay.” He muttered into my hair. I breathed shakily and heavily as my hands slipped to his back, gripping his shirt. I hadn’t known at the time, but Paul had shifted to hear everyone while I was with my grandparents. Embry had found Quill on the Canadian border. He’d gone so far.

After he came back everyone departed with their respective partner. Embry, Quill and Jacob all phased back and cried into each other. Overwhelmed and angry. They cried so hard they couldn’t breathe. Knowing they would be going through this together though, that soothed Quill. He wasn’t alone again. There was no forgiveness in the air as we all knew why they’d been forced into this. Quills mom, my aunty Rita, grabbed him with the most pained hug I’d ever seen. Uncle had walked over to Paul and I, explaining that Quill had shifted in his sleep, he’d had a nightmare.

An orange hair pin caught my attention from the corner of my eye, turning I saw Kim Ironheart, my cousin. She wore an old pair of basketball shorts and an old jersey. I ran over to her. Clutching onto her. Asking above to spare her. She sobbed into me, her breaths as rugged as my own. Sleep still laid in her eyes like the slippers that clung to her feet.

A strong and clear voice called us over, Quill. He stood on his own in the space between us and the rest of those who lingered. I couldn’t make out his expression. I couldn’t bare to look. Kim walked over to him. Saying how he ‘shouldn’t scare us like that, shitass.’ I heard his laugh, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the floor. Would he even forgive me? Understand that if I had told him it could’ve triggered him earlier or that I knew why Embry and Jacob were ignoring him and it wasn’t because he was a bad friend but because he was too good. That I knew the end was near. He called my name again and I looked up. His eyes were creased with a smile and flooding with tears as his hand beckoned me over. I ran. The dirt under my sneakers fleeing beneath me. Colliding roughly with him and Kim. We were as thick as thieves. We stood together throughout so much, when I lost my parents, when Kim lost her closest friend and now when Quill lost a part of himself for others. Our arms weaved around each other like when we were kids begging our family to let us all sleepover. Our cries turned into laughter as we stood, feet planted in dirt.

“I take it the three of you are all sleeping in the living room tonight?” gran laughed, ushering us inside. Emily and Sam lingered, Paul laughed and followed my Grandparents inside with my phone and purse in his hands. As Quill went over to Sam, I tried pulling Kim by the hand, but she was frozen. Transfixed. I followed her gaze to Jared. He was as frozen as she was. Staring at her like they hadn’t known each other since they were three. Oh. I think this is… Not my place. I decided to go and find Paul, I dropped Kim’s hand but not before an extra squeeze to let her know she wasn’t alone. I found Paul on the sofa his smile transferring to mine. His lap was warm as I sat down.

“Did Jared?” I asked, his slight nod was all I needed. He stared at me trying to gauge my reaction. But all I could do was smile more; she’d liked him for such a long time.

“Lets sleep, I’ll knock Jared’s teeth out in the morning.” He joked pulling me down into him.

I couldn't sleep, not until Quill and Kim came in. We spoke for hours. Quill still wasn't Pauls biggest fan but he understood. They tore me a new one for how i found out about Paul and the rest of the legends. We didn't speak to Kim about Jared, they will take their time. For now it would just us basking in the sweet moments of the end. We'd take a hike together through the bush the next morning, finding our place once more on the beaten path.

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authors note: just handed in two essays back to back so please accept this as a gift for being away for longer than I expected! I took so much love and care writing this I hope it makes at least one persons day! Next up is Paul Lahote colour blind ! I love you all ! I'm going to promise right now that you will get another post on the 13th of March which is my birthday !! Take care- em x

#paul lahote imagine #twilight paul #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #x reader #x you #x yn #twilight #new moon twilight #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #quil ateara #i cant believe this took me a month to write #i hope you all like it #if you dont just dont tell me #x y/n

[comradekatara]

ozai keels over and dies due to tea going down the wrong pipe one morning before canon starts. what changes, and why does it end up with momo as fire lord?

This Ask Was Meant To Be A Joke But Oops I Wrote A Bajillion Words

otherwise known as my take on an "Ursa kills Ozai" AU

ursa poisons ozai at some point before the siege of ba sing se. she’s gotten fed up with him, and says “fuck it.” the only person who suspects foul play is azula, but she’s like 5 so no one takes her accusations seriously, just assuming she’s mourning her father and is fabricating explanations as a coping mechanism. eventually azula begins to believe this herself, but she never stops subconsciously resenting her mother. zuko feels guilty for feeling relieved, but ursa is there by his side to help him work through his feelings in a healthy(ish) way.

the siege of ba sing se fails when iroh’s son dies. he retreats into his grief, journeying through the spirit world and coming to terms with the great suffering he has inflicted on others. he returns to his father a changed man, tells azulon that he can no longer be crown prince, and instead retreats to a smaller village in the fire nation to set up a tea shop and live in isolated comfort and relative peace. he never finds redemption, but he is content in the knowledge that he is no longer actively causing harm either.

since ozai, iroh, and lu ten are all out of the picture, zuko becomes crown prince. azulon only has a few more good years left in him, so zuko’s education in matters of state is turboboosted. azula worries that her soft, sensitive brother who prefers theater to warfare (but is also far too stubborn to be puppeteered by someone competent, like her) isn’t equipped for the position, and voices this (deeply sincere!) concern to ursa, who assumes the worst and scolds azula for speaking ill of her brother.

azula tells zuko that she’s overheard people having doubts over his ability as the next firelord, and at first he’s defensive, accusing her of lying to him and trying to provoke him like she always does. but eventually he relents and admits that he has doubts too. he wants to be a good firelord for his people, but every time he tries to argue with the generals in war meetings over their plans to sacrifice their own troops for grander victories, azulon pulls him aside and gives him an earful about how he is disrespecting the court and isn’t worthy of the throne. azula rolls her eyes and says “you’re not supposed to argue with the generals, dum dum. you’re lucky father is no longer with us, or he would’ve done much worse over hearing you spout your little treasonous inclinations like that.” zuko’s cheeks turn red and he storms off with his hands balled into fists.

eventually azulon comes out with it, summoning azula for a private meeting to discuss her future. he tells her that she is the superior firebender, the superior tactician, and his perfect heir. zuko’s defects concern him, and he wants to make her firelord instead. only he’s afraid that what with zuko’s temper, naming her his successor might infuriate him to the point of rebellion, and they can’t risk that. so they devise a plan to send zuko to search for the avatar, claiming that since both azulon and sozin did so in the past, it is a rite of honor for a firelord, and only a true firelord is up to the mission.

zuko, who is desperate to prove himself, vows that he will not return to the fire nation until he has done what his forefathers could not, proving once and for all his true worth, that it is his destiny to rule. he is given a grand ship, the finest fleet the nation has to offer. since he is only still a boy, ursa decides to accompany him, leaving azula in the care of her grandfather and the many servants of the palace. azula pretends to be fine with this, since, after all, it was her idea in the first place. zuko’s full head of hair and unblemished skin signify that he has more to gain than to lose. but still, he cannot afford to fail.

that said, he is in great spirits, fully believing in himself, with his beloved mother there by his side to provide tireless support for which he is greatly appreciative. he is constantly gracious towards his crew, full of great scholars who tutor him in matters of state, history, and culture during his search, as well as revered generals honored to serve the future firelord. he is eager to have a goal. he gets to see the world. he’s happy.

and wouldn’t you know it—two years into his search, he actually does it. he finds the avatar, the one who neither sozin nor azulon could find despite their lifelong efforts. he's hiding out in a tiny water tribe village in the south pole, disguised as a child. clever. since zuko is decidedly not operating on WWOD (what would ozai do?) he and ursa decide that it would be best if they arrived as a peaceful delegation to this village of mostly elderly women and children, and used their resources to negotiate a trade.

sokka sees the fire nation ship coming from a mile away; after all, it's huge. he dons his warpaint. he's been waiting for this day. waiting to die defending his people. but the ship does not park itself on their shores; instead, a trio consisting of a boy his age, a middle aged woman, and an old man (one of zuko's tutors, an anthropologist who wants to see this water tribe village up close) approach their village wall and wait for an audience with whoever's in charge. they look harmless, unarmed, peaceful even. katara is curious, even eager to meet them. so many strange new visitors in one day! but sokka reminds her that they're still fire nation, and they must be seen as a threat.

despite their politeness, their request to trade the avatar for their resources is indeed quite suspect. for one thing, the avatar hasn't been seen in over a century, so why the hell would they think that they have him, and for another, if they did have the avatar, they obviously wouldn't hand him over to the fucking fire nation. sokka tells them that they're mistaken, they will find no avatar here, and to be on their way before things get ugly (this is an obvious bluff, since he's already outnumbered, but they don't have to know that).

meanwhile, aang sees commotion in katara and sokka's village. while he understands their reasoning for banishing him after he accidentally set off that flare and put them in danger, he didn't realize that it would happen so immediately. it's his fault, so it's his responsibility to fix it. after all, he's tired of running. it's what got him into this mess in the first place. he penguin sleds his way right into the heart of the village, in between zuko and sokka, and announces that he is the avatar, and if he goes with them, they must promise to leave the village alone. zuko's just like "of course, yeah. i mean i was willing to trade stuff, so this is a great outcome for me." he escorts aang back onto his ship, while katara watches with tears in her eyes, and sokka devises a plan.

aang still hasn't really processed the whole "fire nation is bad" thing yet. he believes katara that the ship they explored attacked their people, of course, but so far, everyone he's met from the fire nation has been super nice to him. this is the future firelord and his kind-eyed mother promising to bring him to the fire palace safely and smoothly, and offering him any accommodations he may need on their journey, nothing like the monstrous soldiers of katara's story. just to make sure, aang asks zuko what they plan on doing with him once they reach the fire nation. zuko pauses, tilting his head. "i.... don't actually know," he admits. "once we reach home, i'll hand you over to my grandfather azulon, and he'll see fit what to do with the avatar, since he's the current firelord." aang concludes that this sounds reasonable.

aang is sitting on deck, drinking a refreshing (yet slightly spicy) beverage when he is approached by one of zuko's tutors. "it is an honor to meet the avatar," he says in a reverent tone. ("thanks!" aang grins brightly. he doesn't really want to be the avatar, but he won't say no to being complimented.) "please heed my warning," says the scholar. "being in the firelord's custody will bring you and the world nothing but pain. i don't believe prince zuko knows what he is doing by bringing you to our shores, but you must escape while you still can." aang looks confused, so he hands him his glider, and a pai sho tile. "consider me a friend."

a large shadow falls over them. aang takes his glider and makes a run for it, landing on appa's back and flying away as zuko rushes on deck to see his guest of honor escaping. "how could this happen?" zuko asks. "weren't you watching him? how did he get his glider? why did he break his promise?" his tutor shrugs, explaining that airbenders are masters of evasion. and this one has managed to evade the world for the past century. "you're right," agrees zuko. "next time i find him, i will be far more vigilant."

zuko knows that other gloryseekers in the fire nation will attempt to capture that which is rightfully his, so he tries not to advertise it, but soon enough word gets out of the avatar's return, making the slippery little airbender that much more elusive. he refuses to go home without the avatar in hand. (if the spies aboard zuko's ship, either for azulon or for the white lotus, have a hand in dispersing this information, zuko does not question it.)

after an... educational visit to the southern air temple, aang decides to visit kyoshi island to ride the elephant koi. they end up staying longer than they intended to, what with aang's excitement over having an entourage, and sokka's excitement at actually meeting a girl his age for the first time in his life. it doesn't take long for the news to spread to zuko, who makes a beeline to the island. he manages to avoid the unagi as he makes it onto their shores, accompanied by some actual soldiers this time. "hand over the avatar, and no one will get hurt," he declares.

unfortunately, the villagers do not comply, instead sending their warriors to fight him. they're pretty evenly matched until aang shows up, using a pair of fans to knock zuko to the ground and run off on appa while the prince is distracted. since zuko has no further qualms with this village, he retreats to his ship, leaving suki and her village to pick up the pieces from their battle. thankfully the damage was minimal, and no one was seriously hurt, but it does inspire her to make a choice.

zuko is too late by the time he makes it to the prison rig, but he does find something useful: a necklace that could only belong to the water tribe girl helping the avatar. "that's a pretty bracelet you've got there," ursa remarks. zuko flushes. "i'm just tying it around my wrist for safekeeping," he scoffs. he can use it as leverage, he knows. he just hasn't figured out how yet.

zuko tells zhao that he isn’t allowed to try to capture the avatar, since this was his mission, as tasked by the firelord. zhao smugly replies that zuko had his chance, and now it’s anyone’s game. the man who brings the avatar back to the fire nation is sure to be handsomely rewarded, and so zhao will stop at nothing to make sure that man is him. so when he successfully kidnaps aang, zuko has no choice but to don his mother’s theater mask, strap his swords to his back, and break aang out of pohuai stronghold.

zuko wakes up to the avatar talking about life 100 years ago. since by now he’s pretty sure the avatar is literally a child, he wonders whether the kid is referring to his past life, or if he’s actually just demented. aang asks zuko if they could’ve been friends if not for the war. zuko firmly says, “no. i’m not friends with liars who break their promises.” (he’s also not friends with anyone besides his mother, but that’s neither here nor there.) he’s obviously referring to the fact that aang broke his word by escaping his ship, but that’s not where aang’s mind goes. he looks down, feeling guilty, ashamed. “okay,” he says quietly. “guess I’ll get going, then.” by the time zuko has actually considered capturing him for himself, aang has disappeared into the trees.

stowing away inside a giant fire nation ship with countless people was a smart move, but june's shirshu is smarter. zuko is outraged that she would dare to damage a ship belonging to the firelord himself to catch a simple petty thief, but he claims that if she can help him find someone, he'll consider them even. june decides that gaining the trust of the future firelord is surely a good investment, so she helps him track down his little girlfriend.

by the time zuko has located the water tribe teens, the avatar is no longer with them. he offers to trade the necklace for the boy, but katara firmly refuses, calling him a monster. zuko realizes that maybe one necklace isn’t actually worth a person, so he offers them money as well. (“well hang on a second, how much are we talking?” sokka says—as a joke, god—and katara smacks him.) june doesn’t have time to deal with futile negotiations, so she speeds up the process by paralyzing them and tracking down her bounty.

the nuns’ perfumes disorient nyla, so june peaces out asap. katara gets her necklace back, and wonders how zuko even stole it in the first place. zuko laments yet another loss. his tutors remind him that it is simply not the way of the world for ordinary people to win in fights against the avatar. but zuko isn’t an ordinary person. he’s the future firelord. so why isn’t he better than this?

zhao steps aboard zuko’s ship without his permission (he doesn’t need it; he has azulon’s). he informs zuko that he will be taking every eligible soldier for his mission, as per azulon’s command. zuko learns that he is leading an attack against the northern water tribe. but why? zuko wonders. has the northern water tribe actually attacked the fire nation? they’re famously isolationist, so it wouldn’t make sense to attack them without provocation. even the knowledge that the avatar will be there to master waterbending does little to mitigate zuko’s confusion. why bother harming countless civilians just to extract one person?

ursa warns zuko against voicing these treasonous thoughts to anyone else. treasonous? is it treasonous to question why the fire nation would attack a self-sufficient, isolated society that causes no harm to anyone else? of course the fire nation had to defend themselves against the air nomad army, and then the earth kingdom and southern water tribe, but he thought the northern water tribe had never been a part of the war. is it really just because the avatar will be there? he knows that zhao is a power-hungry monster, and admittedly, he does find his grandfather quite terrifying, but this seems needlessly cruel even for them...right? ursa sighs. maybe azula had a point. he really is hopelessly naive.

zuko decides that the only way to prevent this damage is by capturing the avatar himself. so he takes a jetski to the northern water tribe, alone, and waits for them to let him into the city. he is brought before the chief, who demands an explanation. zuko explains that the fire nation is planning an attack against them, which he personally does not endorse, but if they handed over the avatar, then the fire nation would no longer see their people as a threat, and have no reason to harm them.

everyone immediately objects, assuming that this is simply a trick to secure the avatar before they just attack them anyway. but aang vouches for zuko. “he wouldn’t lie,” he promises. he decides that he has no choice but to follow zuko’s lead if it means saving the entire northern water tribe. katara protests, but yue just looks on sympathetically. “it’s his duty,” she tells her, her voice heavy.

zuko brings the avatar before zhao, telling him that if he hands aang over, then zhao can call off the siege before any bloodshed is necessary. zhao says, “we have a deal,” and locks aang in a heavily fortified cell. then he knocks zuko out while he isn’t looking, and locks him in a cell of his own. “foolish boy. you really think i’d call off my invasion just for the avatar? i’m about to create a legacy. too bad you won’t be around to see it.”

katara runs to sokka, who’s off preparing for a secret mission, and explains to him what’s happened. sokka slaps his forehead. “if prince ponytail thinks that zhao would call off his invasion just for aang then he’s even dumber than i thought.” katara’s all like “that’s what i said!” but of course aang and yue and zuko were all too honorable to listen. “so what’s your plan?” katara asks. “it’s simple,” says sokka. “first, we go to zhao’s ship.” (“yes, absolutely, agrees katara.) “free aang.” (“uh huh, duh.”) “and then we kill zhao.” (“uhm...............”)

sokka assures katara that he’ll do all the killing and murdering and katara and aang don’t have to get their hands dirty. katara frowns but doesn’t protest. they take appa (underwater, thanks to katara’s recent waterbending upgrade) to zhao’s ship, easy to identify as it’s the nearest, biggest one.

they sneak on without issue. any guards who do notice them are immediately knocked out by katara before they can even protest. aang and zuko are being held in cells on opposite sides of the same room. they’re both chained so as to restrict their bending, but between katara’s bending and sokka’s arsenal of weapons, they’re able to break aang free. and then aang says something ridiculous. “i think we should free zuko too.”

sokka’s just like “absolutely not. we’re here to rescue you and ........incapacitate zhao, zuko is our enemy.” but then aang does his puppy dog eyes and before sokka can even protest further he’s broken zuko out anyway and katara, the traitor, is helping him. sokka sighs, knowing that this is going to complicate his plan significantly.

aang’s all like, “well why would zhao even lock zuko up in the first place if zuko didn’t have good inside him?? huh????” and sokka’s like “I don’t know maybe because zhao is an evil power-hungry monster and he doesn’t want zuko to get in his way????” and none of them can argue with that, because that’s exactly what happened.

they make a deal with zuko that they will return him to his ship if he promises to stop hunting them, and zuko is like, “what if i stop hunting you for like.... a week?” and sokka is like, “what if i murder you right now?” and zuko’s like, “okay FINE. two weeks.”

sokka decides he can murder zuko later and goes off to find zhao, telling aang and zuko to go find appa while katara follows him for backup. sokka has no idea why he trusted aang and zuko to listen to him, because of course they follow them secretly.

and sokka is SO CLOSE to slitting zhao’s throat with the edge of his blade while he was sleeping, it would’ve been SO EASY, when zuko lets out an extremely loud, involuntary gasp from the corner of the room where he and aang are hiding. technically it’s not actually zuko’s fault that zhao wakes up, because at the same time, aang cried out “NO!” which is definitely what actually awoke zhao, but sokka has decided to blame it on zuko anyway.

zhao’s eyes snap open and he firebends around the room, only managing not to scorch them all to a crisp because aang, katara, and zuko all immediately respond by using their bending to put out the fire. a fight breaks out, aang and katara trying to incapacitate zhao, sokka still hoping to kill him, zhao trying to kill all of them, and zuko frantically trying to deescalate the situation. he keeps blocking zhao by just. putting out his firebending. and he keeps blocking sokka by just pushing him out of the way every time he’s about to land a blow. which is quite possibly the most irritating thing that has ever happened to sokka in a fight.

zuko is so annoyed by this situation that eventually he’s just like, “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE STOP FIGHTING!” and he yells it so loudly and commandingly that they actually do what he says and freeze in place. “no one is killing anyone,” he says. “the avatar will be captured alive. and zhao committed high treason by imprisoning me, the crown prince, which means that he is to be sent to my grandfather so the fire nation can determine what to do with him.”

his air of diplomacy wears off after like five seconds though, and sokka just says, “that’s stupid. you’re not letting me kill him because you think the fire nation should be the ones to execute him? that literally doesn’t make sense unless you’re some persnickety imperialist bootlicker. i should kill you right now just for being so moronic.”

painfully, katara is forced to agree with sokka. she nods her head solemnly, “sokka’s right,” she tells zuko, “and you are a moron.” zhao is begrudgingly impressed. he’s like, “wow if i didn’t want to eradicate your entire race, i’d recruit you as my lieutenant.” sokka’s like, “that’s the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me but ok.”

this standstill is the perfect opportunity for aang to knock out zhao and katara to knock out zuko, which sokka tries to indicate subtly with his eyes and hand signals, but aang and katara are just like, “what? what are you saying?” and they’re mouthing to each other looking all stupid which is the perfect opportunity for zhao to just. slip out of the room and lock the door behind him, leaving them all trapped. he gathers the most important members of his crew and lets them know to move to another ship as quickly as possible, since there’s no way that door will hold the avatar for long. he lets the rest of his crew know that they’re about to be in for the fight of their lives.

aang tries to use airbending to kick down the door, which only dents the metal slightly. then katara tries to freeze the hinges, but the door only opens from the top, leaving an opening so small even momo couldn’t climb through (and momo is back in agna qel’a safely with yue anyway). then zuko uses his firebending powered kicks to try to pry the door off its hinges, leaving it rattled and slightly more dented. just as aang is about to try again, sokka’s like, “is it my turn yet?” takes out the knife in his boot, and picks the lock. katara smacks him over the head for not just having done that in the first place.

the entirety of zhao’s remaining crew is right outside the door, waiting to kill all of them at their admiral’s orders. it’s a brutal fight. they don’t hold back, no matter how many times zuko insists that he ranks higher than zhao and therefore they should be listening to him! katara knocks out most of them with a water whip, and aang takes out the rest with an airbending move that gives them all the concussion of their lives. they run back to appa as fast as they can, mowing down soldiers along the way. they don’t really have another option, so they let zuko climb onto appa too.

they fly back to the capital, where arnook is waiting for them. they explain the situation as quickly as possible, and that the secret mission to take out zhao was a bust. (sokka will later realize that he could’ve killed zhao before freeing aang, and regret everything.) yue suggests getting help from the spirits, so she takes aang and katara to the oasis so that aang can enter the spirit world and seek the guidance he needs.

meanwhile, sokka and arnook are debating what to do with zuko. on one hand, he did try to protect their tribe, which means he should get diplomatic immunity since he’s technically their ally against this invasion. on the other hand, he’s the crown prince of the fire nation, and if they hold him for ransom then the firelord will probably call off the siege. but also the message won’t be received in time for that, since zhao could be approaching any second, so maybe it would be more helpful to use zuko to fight against this army, which he could probably be convinced to do. meanwhile zuko is sitting in a little prison cell like, “i wonder how mom’s doing...”

pakku gets a message from the white lotus that the crown prince has been missing for a day, along with a jetski, and if he happens to know where he might have gone? with some light snooping, pakku finds out that zuko is being held prisoner, but they're probably going to free him since he doesn't really seem to be a threat. so he assures the white lotus that he's safe in their city, and not to worry. ursa worries.

sokka goes to visit zuko, giving him the option to fight in exchange for his freedom, when he sees a shadow slink into the wall. he pretends not to notice anything. "we've decided to release you provided you help us prepare and fight against zhao's invasion, which seems like something you'd be willing to do considering he just tried to kill you. the blue spirit can help too i guess," he says, gesturing to ursa in the corner of the room, who scoffs behind her mask.

zuko agrees that zhao committing high treason, going back on his word, trying to kill the avatar, and invading an isolationist society are all pretty good grounds for fighting that guy. he's very confused by what sokka means about the blue spirit, though, because he was pretty sure that he's the blue spirit...? ursa takes off her mask and waves. zuko lights up. "MOM!!!!!!!!!" he cries, and rushes to hug her as sokka unlocks the door to his cell. and ohmygod sokka hates this guy so fucking much.

ursa's like, "are you sure you don't want to apturecay the vataray?" sokka rolls his eyes at her assumption that he somehow can't hear and/or understand her. or maybe she just doesn't care. zuko's like, "ugh, i promised them a two weeks truce." ursa doesn't know whether to be proud of or annoyed by her son who refuses to go back on his word, ever.

sokka takes zuko (and ursa) to arnook, who can command them as he best sees fit, and then heads over to the spirit oasis so he can be there for katara, aang, and yue. aang is busy meditating, so katara and yue are just standing there keeping watch and hoping for the best. zhao enters through the door while aang is still in the spirit world. katara defends aang with everything she has, and sokka is torn between providing backup and making sure no one lays a hand on yue. they're sorely outnumbered. especially because while katara and sokka are busy protecting aang (and yue), they leave room open for zhao to pluck a certain koi fish out of a pond.

aang returns to his body a second too late. "why is the moon red?" he asks. then he sees zhao. "oh no." he begs with zhao, pleads him not to do this. destroying the moon wouldn't just hurt the water tribes, but the whole world. just put the fish down, and then they can negotiate. zhao slowly sets tui down. and then he roasts it. the sky goes dark. aang blows a gust of wind at zhao and his soldiers so powerful that it knocks half of them out. zhao knows that there's no winning a fight against the avatar, and runs out of the oasis. he got what he came for anyway.

yue starts crying. "there's no hope now," she says. "it's over." katara can't bend. the sky is black. she feels as sick as she did when she was born. "no," says aang, his voice echoing with his countless lifetimes. "it's not over." he steps into the pond, and emerges bonded with the ocean spirit. so that one solves one problem. the entire fire navy fleet is decimated in a matter of minutes, and the ocean drops aang off on the wall of the city once they're certain their mission is complete.

meanwhile zuko is fighting zhao on another bridge, more furious than zhao has ever seen him. "how could you could this?" he shouts, pummeling zhao with fireballs. even as zhao nearly trips trying to block zuko's attack, he sneers. "i didn't do anything your father wouldn't have done, had he taken his rightful place on the throne." zuko can't believe this. his father died when he was just a child. yes, he was somewhat cold and distant, but zuko has fond memories of him too, like when he would teach him history while sitting on the beach at ember island, or when he would play soldier with him in the garden (or... wait.... was that uncle iroh?). "if only your bitch of a mother didn't kill him."

zuko suddenly remembers something azula said to him, only once. his ears ring. he repeats what he had said (shouted) then. "you're lying!" his fireballs grow even stronger. suddenly, a giant glowing hand emerges from the canal. zuko ducks and rolls out of the way, but the hand wasn't after him anyway. without thinking, zuko reaches out to zhao. "grab my hand!" he tells him, and zhao nearly does it before thinking better of it and pulling away. the last thing zhao sees is the moon shining bright in the sky once more.

zuko wipes his eyes before teartracks can freeze his cheeks, and then goes to find his mom. sokka and katara go to find aang. they all find one another on the bridge, ursa already tending to aang who is slumped on the ground. "what happened to the moon?" zuko asks. sokka doesn't answer, his mouth set in a thin line. "what happened to zhao?" asks katara. zuko doesn't answer, merely looks down. "did you kill him?" asks sokka. since zuko doesn't respond, they take this to mean that he did. "oh man," whines sokka. "i wanted to do that!" he had already been prepared to kill zhao, and then yue... ugh. it's not fair! why does this idiot get everything good??

in the morning, arnook sends zuko back to his ship as a thanks for killing zhao (zuko doesn't bother to correct him). the gaang stays behind for a bit to help clean up the mess, but sokka insists that they have to leave soon to find aang an earthbending teacher (and if he doesn't wanna stay here another second longer for other reasons, he doesn't mention it). they go find a general who wants to help aang access the avatar state, while zuko and what's left of his crew travel to a spa to relax for a while, seeing as he can't attempt to capture the avatar at the moment anyway.

who shows up but azula, who zuko hasn't seen in years. "wow, zuzu, you look terrible," is one of the first things out of her mouth, but he can't even be offended because he knows it's true. he's barely slept since the siege of the north, and the only food he's kept down is plain white rice. ursa was hoping the resort would help improve his health, but he can't hide his declining state from his sister. he's haunted by images of zhao going under, pulling away from his hand in disgust, of his mother doing the same to ozai. he doesn't know who to trust anymore. he thinks he might hate himself. "don't call me that," zuko snaps. he hasn't seen his sister in years. she looks different. colder, sharper.

"hello, azula, it's really good to see you," ursa says calmly. she goes in for a hug, but azula blocks her. "you didn't even write," she says, refusing to look her mother in the eye. ursa frowns. "of course i did," she says. "did you not receive my letters?" she hadn't. azulon had intercepted them. he thought it best if he kept azula all to himself. azula thinks she's being mocked, but she holds back her tears, as she's been learning to do since she was born. "grandfather wants you back in the fire nation," she tells zuko. "his health is declining. you ought to prepare for your coronation."

zuko doesn't really want to return, but he doesn't know how he feels traveling the world with his mom anymore, and it's his duty to take the throne, so it's not like he has a choice. then one of azula's crew lets it slip that zuko is not their honored guest, but their prisoner, and all hell breaks loose. "of course grandfather doesn't want you on the throne!" azula taunts him. "your repeated failure to capture the avatar has been an embarrassment! not to mention, you aided the water tribe during the siege, and literally killed an admiral."

"i didn't kill him, i tried to save him!" zuko protests. "and the avatar is extremely powerful, even you couldn't catch him." (azula takes this as a challenge.) zuko and ursa barely escape with their lives, being given enough of a head start only because ursa pushed azula into the water below. she doesn't even make sure to check if her daughter is okay, she just grabs zuko's hand and runs.

they run and run until they reach a clearing in the woods. zuko throws up in the river. "i didn't kill zhao," he whispers, over and over again. "i didn't kill zhao... i didn't....." ursa hugs him as breaks down. "i know honey, i know." but zuko is shaking in her arms for another reason. "did you kill my father?" he asks. ursa tenses, and zuko backs away from her. "no," she says. "no, of course not. why would you think that?"

"you did.... didn't you....." zuko can barely control his rage. ursa starts crying, pleading with him. "you don't understand, zuko, he would've killed you. killed me. please, you must understand. i had no other choice. it was self-defense." zuko shakes his head. "i get why you did it," he says, because he may be naive, but he's not stupid. "but why did you lie to me? everyone acted like azula was crazy, but she was right all along."

ursa smiles sadly. "i lied to protect you," she says. "i couldn't let anyone else know what i did." zuko sees his mother for the first time. he unsheathes his knife, the pearl dagger uncle iroh gave him just before he disappeared. "cut. your. hair." honor never meant much to ursa, she knew it to be a hollow facade that hid ill-tempered husbands behind delusions of grandeur. but she knows how much it means to zuko. so she takes his knife and cuts her hair to her chin, too short to tie into a topknot.

zuko takes the knife back, and in the spur of the moment, cuts off his ponytail too. he doesn't even fully know why he does it. it's not like he murdered anyone. but he also knows that if it came down to it, he'd do anything for his mother, and maybe that counts all the same. "we have to keep moving," ursa tells him. "azula could be on our trail right now." zuko is about to protest that it's all a misunderstanding, that if he just talked to his grandfather he could clear his name, but another, newer part of him doesn't even believe that anymore. so he takes ursa's hand, and they head to the nearest earth kingdom town in search for provisions and a map that can lead them to ba sing se.

after weeks of traveling from town to town, depending on the kindness of strangers to keep them fed (or well, ursa fed. zuko still doesn't eat much), zuko can't take it anymore. "i'm the crown prince," he complains, "i shouldn't be living like this! i need to go talk to azula and make things right." ursa shakes her head. "what you need is to be patient," she says. "once we reach ba sing se, we'll find a roof over our heads, good jobs, and a steady life. a little hard work won't kill you in the meantime." zuko is about to complain that it most certainly will, but his mom has been doing so much for him lately (and his whole life), so he just sighs and acquiesces.

one night, while they're sleeping in someone's barn, zuko asks his mom how she knows how to do all kinds of manual labor. that's not the kind of thing you learn growing up in a palace. ursa explains that she wasn't actually raised as a noble, although she has noble blood. she grew up in a small village in the southern fire nation, where she likely would have spent her whole life if she hadn't been chosen to be ozai's bride due to her relation to avatar roku. zuko's just like, "uh....... hold up????? you literally never told me any of this?????????"

ursa says she figured it wasn't important. even zuko knows that's a lie. it seems extremely important. "elaborate. now," he demands. so ursa tells him stories of growing up on a small, quiet island, studying theater with her friends, firebending with her mom, and fishing with her dad. she tells him about how she was taken away, given no choice. she tells him stories of what ozai said to her, what he did to her. she doesn't go into detail or anything, but she figures zuko is old enough to know. she tells him more stories the next night, lighter ones this time. the story of where she got her favorite mask. the story of making sweet buns with her brother. stories about zuko and azula when they were babies. the night after that, she tells him the story of roku and sozin.

"i don't understand," says zuko. "sozin let roku die?? why would he do that?? roku was his friend!" ursa can't help it; she laughs. "roku was the only thing stopping sozin from spreading the glory of the fire nation across the world. he cared about roku, but he also cared about his nation." zuko scoffs. "it sounds to me like he cared about no one but himself." ursa would scold him for voicing such a thought if she hadn't been wondering the same thing.

the next morning, zuko slips away silently with his swords strapped to his back. he's tired of running. so when azula tracks aang to a ghost town, zuko appears moments later. "zuko?" exclaims aang. he's so tired, he wonders if he's hallucinating. they haven't seen zuko since the north pole, and despite his new haircut being quite flattering, he looks even worse than aang currently feels. he doesn't have much time to reflect, since azula uses this pause to attack aang, and zuko is trying to intervene for reasons unclear to both of them. katara and sokka show up to defend aang.

meanwhile toph has bumped into a woman about her mother's age on the side of the road. they have a long talk, and they both feel a lot better by the end of it, even if it makes toph miss her mom and ursa miss azula. toph returns to the gaang just in time to save their butts. zuko keeps yelling for azula to stop so they can talk, but azula's just like "can't you see i'm busy right now?"

what does catch her attention, though, is the arrival of ursa. the woman who brought her into the world, and, most recently, pushed her into the sea without a second thought. her hair is shorter. “azula," says ursa sternly, in that what am i going to do with this truculent child voice she has never once used on zuko. "we need to talk."

"yes, yes, mother," says azula. "once i've captured the avatar, then we can hash everything out." ursa grabs azula by the back of her collar as if she's a kitten. "now, young lady!" and she marches azula to the other side of the town, motioning for zuko to stay put. toph is suddenly far less regretful of the fact that this woman is not her mother.

"so...." says zuko, upon noticing that three familiar pairs of eyes are staring at him. he waves awkwardly. aang waves back, but feels so stupid that he puts his hand down after a single second of consideration. "okay," says sokka. "we're all thinking it, so i'm just gonna say it. you look awful." aang and katara both nod. he really does. "oh my god," says toph, "let's LEAVE."

out of the corner of her eye, azula catches the avatar and his companions just walking away, without so much as a fight from zuko, and she squirms in ursa's grasp. "but–" she protests, pointing at the receding blur of orange and yellow. "don't talk back to me!" ursa snaps as she continues lecturing azula on why she needs to be a better sister to zuko and it's clear she wants to take the throne but as a woman that just isn't her place and–

"that's rich coming from the woman who murdered her husband," azula says. ursa does not dignify azula's comment with a response. "also, i don't want the throne," azula continues. "grandfather wants me to have the throne. i'm just doing what he told me to." the fact that he own mother thinks so little of her, that she hasn't seen her in years, didn't even bother to write, and now all she wants to do is lecture her on not being good enough... azula does not cry. her lip wobbles a little, but she's fine. she's fine.

zuko walks over to them, disobeying his mother’s orders. he just doesn’t get why she would scold azula when she should know that she made azula feel as if she was crazy her whole life. shouldn’t she feel at least a little bit guilty for that? “i didn’t kill zhao,” he tells azula. “a giant spirit hand rose out of the ocean and dragged him down. i tried to help him but he wouldn’t take my hand. believe me or don’t. i don’t care.”

unfortunately, azula does believe him. because she knows her brother, and he cannot tell a lie to save his life. but this is a problem, because grandfather wants zuko out of the way, and without the precedent of treason, they have no good reason not to maintain his position as heir. but she’s always been good at thinking on her feet. “what if,” she proposes, “we work together to capture the avatar, but you take all the credit for it? then surely grandfather would be impressed enough with you that he wouldn’t mind giving you the throne. in return, all i ask is that when you’re firelord, you do everything i say, which is only fair because grandfather thinks i’d make a better ruler, and all my advice would be in your best interest anyway. do we have a deal?”

zuko doesn’t like the sound of being beholden to azula; he’s too proud for that. but he also wants his grandfather’s approval. there's also another issue... “i don’t know how i feel about capturing the avatar, to be honest,” zuko says. “at first i thought he was a scheming coward from a backwards culture, but he actually seems like a pretty good kid. maybe we could reason with him instead?”

azula resists the urge to smack her forehead. this kind of thinking is exactly why he shouldn’t be in charge of a fishing boat, let alone a global superpower. “were you born without balls?” she honestly can’t believe she’s related to him. (“language,” ursa warns.) “you know what, i feel bad even suggesting that we work together. clearly, grandfather was right about you, and if you dare set foot in the fire nation again we will have no choice but to convict you for the murder of that dumbass admiral guy. i mean personally i wish you did kill him, because it would be the only modicum of chutzpah you’d ever display in your pathetic little life, but of course you couldn’t even do that much. and mother, you can’t blame me for lack of trying. but i think you know as well as i do that your son is a lost cause. i’ll be going now. don’t try to contact me again.”

with that, azula walks away, and neither zuko nor ursa try to stop her. she finds mai and ty lee back in the woods by their mounts, damp and shivering and smelling unpleasantly of river water. this situation doesn’t stop ty lee from wrapping azula in a hug the moment she lays eyes upon her expression, poorly masked distress and red eyes threatening to spill over. azula just stands there, letting her clothes get wet.

“so............” says ursa. zuko stares at her. he knows she’s trying so hard not to say i told you so. instead she says, “ba sing se?” zuko reluctantly nods. so he’ll let azula take the throne while he hides in the earth kingdom like a coward. he’s fine with that! glad, even! his family is all kinds of fucked up. who needs them? not him! (he's always been a terrible liar.)

“i have some contacts who can help us get fake passports and tickets aboard the ferry,” ursa says. “i hope you know that this isn’t a dishonorable thing to do. there’s no shame in retreating from a bad situation before it gets worse.” zuko frowns. “like when you killed my father, you mean?” he asks. ursa nods. “something like that,” she agrees.

"i mean, honestly, zuko... do you even want to be firelord?" zuko scoffs. what is she even talking about? of course he wants to be firelord! it's been his birthright since uncle abdicated, he's been training for it since he was a child. it's honorable to perform one's duty by serving the most just and forward-thinking nation in the world. ursa sighs. "see, zuko, this is exactly what i'm talking about. do you even believe what you're saying right now?"

"okay, okay," zuko concedes, "so maybe great-grandfather sozin and grandfather azulon have been a little extreme in their views, but they needed to rule with a firm hand due to the pressures of the war and the power vacuum left by the disappearance of the avatar. now that he's back, i'm sure we can find negotiations with the other nations that satisfy everyone's needs, and–"

"oh my god. ZUKO. who do you think STARTED the war?" ursa all but yells. zuko pauses. he doesn't want to say something wrong. there are a lot of false starts, opening his mouth, and then promptly closing it, like the world's most thoughtful goldfish. when he finally does speak, he's quiet and to the point. "we did," he says.

ursa lets zuko grapple with this revelation all the way to ba sing se. some guy keeps trying to talk to him on the ferry but gives up after five minutes of realizing he's not paying attention, way too absorbed in his own thoughts and recontextualized memories. they walk through the lower ring, navigating the throng of refugees who have been displaced by the war. zuko doesn't know whether he wants to stay in this bubble forever, or if he's more determined than ever to assume the throne, and right the wrongs of his forefathers. all he knows for certain is that his mom managed to set them up with the coolest jobs he could ever hope for.

katara knows that ba sing se is a horrendous hyperstratified police state, but she's always been one to see the good in things, and ever since her fun little day at the spa with toph, she's been enjoying perusing the cultural resources ba sing se's upper ring has to offer. so she takes momo to a park, where he runs around chasing birds; she takes sokka to the library, where he complains that all their intelligence is outdated while she browses the romance section; she makes all of them go shopping with her, because they lost most of their stuff when appa was stolen, and she's sick of wearing the same outfit every single day; and she tries to cheer up aang as much as possible, which includes a matinee showing of some old earth kingdom play she's never actually heard of, but which got rave reviews in the ba sing se gazette.

during intermission (one of two, apparently this play is four and a half hours long???) katara whispers to aang, "is it just me, or does the lead actress look familiar?" aang is confused. "what do you mean by that? she's literally wearing a mask." katara shrugs. "i dunno..." she says, "i just get this creepy feeling like i've seen her before." they almost miss it, because they're jumping out of the seats by the time the play has finally ended, but thankfully katara remembers to look back when the cast members take their masks off, because holy shit she does know that woman.

aang and katara stealthily follow their marks, trailing behind a good distance while also making sure not to lose them in the crowd. it helps that aang has an aerial view. they finally end up in front of a lower ring apartment complex, where two of the most high-ranking members of the fire nation royal family are apparently.... living??? they're not exactly sure how to make their next move. aang offers that they wait for sokka to come up with a plan, since he'd know what to do, but katara is too impatient. she tells aang to wait outside, and that she'll signal to him if it's a trap, at which point he should get toph and sokka (she's fairly confident she can take a skinny dweeb and his mom on her own, but she doesn't want him getting his slimy fire nation hands on aang).

in a perhaps inadvisable move (since their landlord now expects her to pay for the damages), she kicks the door down, holding ice daggers in each hand. "all right, i'm onto you," she threatens the mother currently trying to pile more food onto the plate of her resisting son. "how did you infiltrate the city, and why are you here?"

zuko shrieks, and then realizes it's just the avatar's waterbender friend. "oh hey...........you." (it suddenly occurs to him that he never bothered to learn her name.) "what are you doing here?"

"that's none of your business," says katara, folding her arms. like she'd spill their secret invasion plan to the crown prince, or let it slip that appa is missing. yeah right. "well, it is kind of my business," replies zuko, "seeing as you're in our apartment." ursa hands her a fresh plate. "sit and eat with us. we can answer all your questions over dinner." katara complies with little fuss, since fire nation or not, she can't help but be charmed by any sort of maternal figure. not to mention she was enchanting in that play.

zuko and ursa explain to katara that they're laying low in ba sing se to avoid the wrath of his grandfather, who has declared him a traitor for helping the northern water tribe during the siege, and they actually quite like it here. ursa successfully auditioned her way into one of ba sing se's most elite theater troupes, and zuko was hired as assistant stage manager. they have no ulterior motive, zuko is just content to help his mother live out her lifelong dreams of becoming an actress, since he's currently too confused about everything to even know what stance he should be taking in this war anyway.

katara leaps at this. "what do you mean you're confused?" she asks. as much as sokka claims that zuko is the biggest idiot he's ever met (and that includes chong), katara can't help but harbor the mildest of soft spots for a guy whose best friend is clearly his mom. maybe this is her chance to finally Fix Him. "well," says zuko, "i always thought my role in this war and in the world was to help my grandfather and someday take over his role as firelord, but now it seems like my grandfather hates me, so i'm not really sure what to do about that. also you and the avatar seem really nice? but not your brother though, he's really mean and kinda terrifying. so... yeah. i'll probably just stay here with my mom."

katara's like, "okay, i totally get that, your mom seems dope, but what if, instead, you went full traitor and helped teach aang firebending? wouldn't that be fun? and don't worry about sokka, you can always just distract him with food or something shiny." and zuko's like, "suppose i agree to your offer, how am i even supposed to firebend in this city without getting arrested?" which is admittedly a pretty good point. but katara's like, "we'll be leaving eventually, and when we do, you can come with us and train aang then!"

zuko's torn, because on one hand he doesn't want to leave his mom, but on the other hand, being an official companion to the avatar seems like a more worthwhile use of time than assistant stage managing (even if it is really fun). ursa's also torn, because on one hand, her dearest wish has always been for her children to be able to lead normal, happy lives, but on the other hand, she thinks it might be good for zuko to finally make some friends his age, and on the other hand, she's not sure if those friends should be the anti-fire nation revolutionaries who are trying to kill his family? like, yes, sure, she's also killed his family, but it wasn't really a politics thing, it was far more personal than that. but zuko's always harbored lowkey treasonous political views, and she cares more about supporting her son's ambitions than she cares about whether or not the fire nation wins the war, if we're being completely honest. it's a real conundrum. ultimately, they're both just like, "we'll think about it," which is good enough for katara, who is convinced that anyone who thinks about it long enough will ultimately come to the obvious conclusion that it is far better to be Good than Bad.

so she leaves their apartment (struggling in a futile attempt to reset their door before finally giving up and leaning it against the wall for their landlord to fix), signals for aang to come down from the roof, and takes the monorail back to the upper ring, where she informs toph and sokka of the absolutely insane day she just had. sokka is immediately opposed to this idea. "you couldn't have found anyone else even slightly less annoying to teach aang firebending?? i really don't wanna spend more time around that guy than i've already been forced to." toph reminds them all that zuko didn't even actually agree to it. he said he'd think about it, which is the exact kind of thing you say to someone when you want them to leave you alone. sokka's like, "man i wish this was the end of it but if you think aang and katara aren't gonna follow up with him the next day and the day after that then you clearly do not know them well enough."

as it turns out, they don't have time to follow up with him the next day, because this is the day that katara runs into jet. (you really think that jet wouldn't find another way to cause a public scene protesting the inherent inequalities of the city, leading to his arrest by the dai li??? cmon now.) with his help, they make their way to lake laogai, where they free appa, but not before their frenemy's demise. they ride into the earth kingdom palace, mowing down countless dai li agents along the way, expose long feng's fraud, and inform the earth king of the reality of the war. all in a day's work.

they decide to go their separate ways for the time being: sokka to see his dad, aang to see guru pathik, toph to "see" her "mom," while katara stays in the city and "helps with the invasion" (ie, lets momo loose in an earth kingdom war room, uses king kuei's credit card to buy so many earrings, goes to see some more plays and then brag to the guy sitting next to her that she's friends with the lead actress). of course katara told sokka to go see their dad because she knows how much he misses him (and not at all because the thought of going to see her dad makes bile rise in her throat haha why would you even say that????), but she's also curious as to whether she can get to know zuko a little bit better in the meantime as well.

she shows up at his apartment and basically demands that they hang out. zuko has seen her waterbend, so like, what is he gonna do?? say no??? they have a very fun time wandering around the lower ring, sampling the food vendors, perusing the market stalls, getting lost in little winding alleyways. momo stayed behind with katara, and zuko is absolutely enchanted by him the entire night. it startles zuko to realize that he weirdly feels very close to katara, like they could’ve been best friends in another life. maybe they still have that opportunity. if he takes her up on her offer to join her group, then he can hang out with her (and momo!!!!) every day... but no, he couldn’t leave his mom, she’s done far too much for him for him to just abandon her...

he tries to communicate this sentiment to her, tries to tell her just how much his mom means to him. katara sighs. “i understand,” she says. “i’d give anything to be able to spend more time with my mom.” zuko stupidly asks where katara’s mom is now. katara very patiently explains. he’s shocked, so he asks a lot of follow-up questions, and katara is like “yes, finally, my opportunity to fully radicalize him!” and you know what? she does. and then she makes him buy her noodles even though she has the king’s all but unlimited purse and he only has the spare change he makes from his job as an assistant stage manager.

katara walks zuko home from their totally not a date and ursa invites her inside for dinner. katara is already extremely full from all the street food she ate, but she will not pass up the opportunity to eat food cooked by a mom. zuko’s mom, even. after dinner is over, ursa asks katara to help her with the dishes, and katara, who loves an excuse to show off her waterbending, happily agrees. sotto voce, ursa mentions to katara, as casually as she can, “look, you need to know something about zuko. i love my son very much, and nothing could ever change that, but.... he was born...... wrong. there’s nothing i could’ve done differently, so ive accepted it and protected him, but you should know that you’re not gonna get what you’re looking for from him.”

katara’s like, “what do you mean........ wrong?” frankly she has not met a more well-adjusted member of the fire nation. if he’s wrong, then what’s zhao??? ursa sighs. how is she gonna explain this to a wide-eyed teenage girl who has decided to pin all her hopes and dreams on her wonderful mistake of a son. ursa backtracks. “not, uh, wrong, per se, just different. he’s not.... normal.”

katara thinks about the fire nation’s standards for normality and decides that maybe that’s a good thing. ursa’s like “okay but just keep in mind what i said all right?” and katara nods with a wide, impassive smile and thanks her for dinner, the dishes all sparkling clean. she takes the monorail back to the apartment in the upper ring with a warm, tingly feeling in her heart and her hands.

ty lee walks into the lounge area where azula is reading a book on global trade sanctions during the yangchen era and mai is fast asleep. “i spied on zuko like you asked,” she says. “he was on a date with that water tribe girl. they were sooooo cute together.” she says that last part loudly and viciously enough to wake up mai, who simply blinks a few times before saying, “barf.” azula tries to hide how disturbed she feels upon hearing this. she knew that zuko was in the city with mother, pretending to be humble actors, she could tell as much from the single performance she had attended (and left during intermission). but befriending the water tribe peasant?? this was too much.

“i see,” she says. “clearly he needs our help.” in truth, she wants her family to come back home. grandfather is getting old, and despite the fact that her mother has been nothing but horrible to her, she still misses her, still wants her mother there for her inevitable coronation. and if she knows one thing to be true in this world, it’s that where zuko goes, ursa is sure to follow.

“he needs more than a little help,” ty lee agrees. “have you seen his hair?? that boy is due for a total makeover.” mai just rolls her eyes. she needs ty lee to stop acting like this. to just say what she really thinks for even one single second. ugh. whatever. she goes back to sleep. but azula does take ty lee’s words to heart. zuko’s hair is the shortest she’s ever seen it. it was already long by the time she was old enough to remember anything clearly. why is his hair short?

katara wakes up the next morning with an official summons from the kyoshi warriors to meet in the palace. she’s very excited. she doesn’t know suki all that well, but she respects her a lot, and is always happy to get to know her brother’s sort of girlfriend a little better. when she walks into the throne room, she sees three kyoshi warriors she doesn’t recognize sitting on the floor. “hey guys,” she says. it’s so hard to keep track of them with their matching facepaint. “where’s suki? isn’t she here with you?” the girl seated in the middle smiles. “suki is indisposed at the moment,” says a familiar, blood-chilling voice. “i’m afraid you’ll have to make do with us for now.” oh no.

katara draws her water, but ty lee has already backflipped behind her and blocked her chi, katara’s now useless weapon pooling around her as she lies helpless on the floor. she is completely defenseless as they throw her into an underground prison only an earthbender could escape from. elsewhere, aang gets a vision.

sokka is about to embark on his first actual mission with his father and prove himself as a warrior when he is interrupted by a bison and his boy. once again, he’s needed elsewhere. toph joins them on the way back. a dai li agent who doesn't trust the sudden regime change shows up at their apartment and informs them that katara is being held in the crystal catacombs under the city. sokka is torn between going with aang to rescue his sister or going with toph to save the earth king. as much as he wants to be there for katara, aang can master the avatar state now (or so he says), so he'll probably be fine on his own.

the avatar has been lured directly into azula's trap, and when he sees that the sheer number of dai li agents fighting alongside her are overpowering katara, aang has no choice but to go into the avatar state, which is when azula strikes. having successfully rescued the earth king (and bosco), sokka and toph fly on appa to meet katara, but it seems they are too late. aang is all but dead, and it is only when katara heals aang with her spirit water that he breathes once more. even then, he is barely conscious.

before they can go meet their dad and the rest of the southern water tribe fleet, katara knows she has one last pitstop to make. as she heads to the lower ring apartment, she pleads with the spirits that they'll be home. she really needs a win today. but when she opens the door to the apartment, the only people there are those horrible girls mai and ty lee.

"you!" she gasps. "what did you do with zuko?" mai looks characteristically bored as she responds. "we didn't do anything, azula came and told him that she killed the avatar, so he decided to go back to the fire nation. they left, like, an hour ago." katara is furious. "but she didn't kill aang! or, well, she did, but aang's– ugh! tell zuko to come back so i can punch him in the face!" mai rolls her eyes, but ty lee can tell that she's amused. "as much as i would like to see that," she says, "that's not in my control. so."

katara really wants to fight them, or anyone, really, but she has just enough sense to remember what happened every single time she's ever gone up against ty lee, so she leaves, slamming the (only recently-fixed) door so hard behind her that it breaks. she returns to appa alone with a silent shake of her head and tears streaming down her face. she spends the next few weeks tirelessly healing aang, pouring all her anger and frustration and and desperation into trying to get his eyes to open once more.

zuko is also on a fire nation ship, but not the one he spent the past few years on. he's finally heading back to the fire nation. now that his mission to capture and/or help the avatar is fruitless, he really has no other choice. looks like fate made that decision before he could. or well, azula did. he's not sure what happened to azula to turn her into a killer. it makes him feel somewhat guilty, for leaving. maybe she could've come with them, instead of being left behind with their scary grandpa. he's not looking forward to seeing azulon. how is he supposed to tell the most powerful man in the world that he disagrees with everything he's ever done in his life?

not to mention mai won't stop bothering him. he suspects azula has something to do with that too. mai keeps talking like the past three years never happened, and they can just pick back up where they left off, but zuko has changed so much lately. but as much as he tries to brush her off, she's always there. so he figures he may as well talk to her. she's hardly dumb, so maybe she can hear him out.

mai cannot stand all of zuko's borderline incoherent, flowery rants about "truth" and "justice." they're all "katara said" this, and "guru laghima said" that, and "then katara was like" oh my god SHUT UP ABOUT KATARA. mai obviously knew that azula and ty lee were lying when they were like, "i overheard zuko talking about how he has a crush on you, mai. you should totally talk to him," but she also knows that if she doesn't find a way to secure her position with him she will never live it down or be able to show her face in front of either of them again. so eventually she just gets fed up listening to him talk about how he and katara are totally, like, twin flames or whatever and just grabs his face and kisses him.

now this is zuko's first kiss (the date with jin never happened because ursa has more tact than iroh), so he kind of just freezes up and stands there, very still, long after it's over and mai has left the room, successful in her mission and once more bored and in need of a task. she lets him know that they're dating now and that he should bring her flowers, and zuko's just like "okay." he doesn't know how to feel about that. his first kiss. it felt... underwhelming? maybe if it had been set to a beautiful score, with better lighting, elaborate costumes... it was a very aesthetically mundane kiss. maybe that was the only the rehearsal though, and when they kiss again next time, it'll more romantic and elaborate.

zuko gets very in his own head about planning the perfect date so that he can stage the perfect (remedial) first kiss with mai. he brings her flowers, naturally. mai says, "thank you for the gift" and then drops them on the ground. zuko's like. "what??? did i bring you the wrong flowers???" he researched the flower symbolism and arrangement ahead of time so as to perfectly express this symbol of early love, developing feelings. mai's like, "oh, no, you did great, but i hate flowers." zuko has no idea what to say to that. she asked him to bring her flowers. mai's like "yeah but that didn't mean i wanted them." zuko asks mai what she does like, so that next time he can bring her that instead. she says, "knives," and then immediately follows up with, "but don't actually bring me knives. you'd be a bad boyfriend if you brought me knives. you're supposed to bring me flowers." zuko doesn't understand why he should go out of the way to bring flowers for someone who'll just throw them on the ground, but mai assures him that this is what good boyfriends do.

he resolutely continues the date he planned, even though it's clear that mai is not actually enjoying any of it. at the restaurant, she takes only the smallest bites of food, eating rice grain by grain. but every time he asks her if she wants to take it back to the kitchen and get something else, she assures him that she likes it and intends to finish it. they take a walk through a park at night, lanterns glimmering over the black water, and mai can't help but comment on what a cliche this romantic moonlit stroll is. zuko's like, "oh.... uh..... i think it's nice...." and mai's like, "of course it's nice. i love it." dessert is eaten on a picnic on a cliffside looking out at the full moon. mai comments on how full the moon is, but in a tone of voice that implies that she's fatshaming it. zuko blithely ignores her comment. once they finish their respective fruit tarts, zuko decides that this is the perfect moment to kiss mai again, this time with him in control so that it won't be all chaotic and boring like mai is. he still feels vaguely underwhelmed by the kiss, but this time he reassures himself that it's because he was kissing something he doesn't really like all that much, and not because the setting and ambiance and mood was off.

mai goes home extremely pleased with herself. if she has to date the crown prince to please azula, her parents, and whoever else gets their sick kicks from enforcing the heteropatriarchy, she'll at least troll everyone in the process.

meanwhile, ursa is adjusting to life back in the palace. zuko keeps remarking that he didn't remember the fire nation palace being so...... big and, like, foreboding. was it always this miserable here? ursa chuckles darkly. "believe it or not, it used to be a whole lot worse." zuko suddenly recalls the stories she told him in a barn in the middle of the night. he understands why she never told azula the truth.

it's weird. azula seems to actively be seeking ursa out, but she can't seem to go five seconds before picking a fight with her. ursa doesn't know how to communicate with azula. she never did. she assumes azula wants affection, but the more affection she shows her, the more azula pushes her away. but when she rises to azula's bait, azula says, "you haven't been here in over three years and now you want to criticize me???" eventually ursa just resigns herself into accepting that all fourteen year old girls are like this with their mothers; god knows she was, and she didn't even have to deal with being royalty.

aang wakes up, slowly but surely, and he isn't happy just spending his days on a fire nation ship. sokka assures him that this is the safest way for them to plan for the invasion, but aang can't take it. he let the world down. again. there's another storm at sea. this time, he washes ashore on a semi-active volcano. they find him, and from then on, they're hiding out in the fire nation until the invasion. they don disguises. aang goes to a fire nation school, and throws his classmates a secret dance party. katara impersonates a spirit and blows up a factory. sokka finds a master and forges a sword. they scam some people, fight some people, plan for the invasion. all pretty on-brand shenanigans.

azula is even more on-edge than usual. if she doesn't orchestrate this invasion counterattack perfectly, who knows what could happen. what matters most is that the avatar is really dead. she finds the perfect assassin to make sure of it. if the avatar is still alive, he won't be for much longer.

meanwhile zuko is so. bored. he thought being back in the fire nation, celebrated as a hero for finally killing the avatar (not that he actually did that, but y'know. everyone seemed to take azula's word for it, and it's not like he can expose her lie) would mean that he got to make more political decisions, but azulon still seems to treat him like he's some naive child. he traveled the world, he slew the avatar (allegedly), he has a goth gf! he's a man!!! but instead of letting him into important war councils, he's sending him off to ember island to go play kuai ball like he's some fucking kid. his only consolation is that azula's forced to go with him too, and she doesn't seem bothered with it, so maybe it's not a big deal.

it still sucks though. not only does zuko have to spend an entire weekend without his mom, but he has to put up with his annoying ass little sister and her annoying ass little friends, one of whom he is apparently dating, even though all she does is make fun of him to his face. no matter what he does there's no winning with her. she only seems remotely happy with him once he finally gets frustrated enough to dump her, but then five seconds later she's like, "okay i forgive you let's get back together," and he's like, "what??" she is dedicating her life to the bit, but he is the world's worst improv partner he is giving her nothing. ty lee wishes she could just sit there and enjoy the show but unfortunately she has to teach azula how to talk like a human. apparently azula spent all her time learning how to talk to generals, and never learned how to flirt with their dumb as bricks hot sons. they return to the capital and zuko goes to ursa and is like, "i don't know why you insisted that it would be good for me to make friends my age, teenagers fucking suck."

azulon finally lets him into a meeting, though not without azula milking those mindgames for all they're worth just to see if zuko's cheeks will puff up and he'll stomp his feet and clench his fists when he yells at her. he's so dramatic, it's hilarious. mai is waiting for him by the door when they file out of the war room. she asks him how the meeting went, and he stares into the distance and mumbles something inarticulate under his breath that sounds very much like a profound soliloquy, just based on like, the cadence and the meter. for all his enthusiasm for theater, zuko clearly never learned how to enunciate, so mai has no idea what he said. she just pulls her cheeks back into a thin-lipped smile and says, "sounds good, zuko."

zuko takes a day trip on his war balloon to the southern fire nation, and more specifically, a certain tea shop he had to beg his mother for the address to. at first, iroh thinks he is hallucinating the ghost of his dead son, or perhaps his dead brother, but then he realizes that it's just been six years since he'd last seen his nephew. he can replace that shattered teapot anyway.

iroh pours zuko tea as zuko tells him about how he spent the past six years. iroh is fascinated to hear of his travels, especially of meeting the avatar and his water tribe companions (and flying bison and lemur). he tells zuko that he's been living a humble life serving his community through teamaking and hosting pai sho game nights. of course, that's not the full truth, since he does receive frequent letters from the order of the white lotus, but zuko doesn't need to know that.

finally, zuko asks iroh what he came all this way to ask: "why don't you want to be firelord? you would have so much power to help people. don't you have a responsibility to use that power?" he could've stayed in ba sing se, safe behind the walls, but he knew it wasn't right. why doesn't his uncle? iroh sighs. "look, prince zuko. this may be difficult for you to understand, but i have caused a lot of harm in my past, and i am ashamed of what i have done. here, i don't have to worry about hurting anyone. tea may be a small joy, but it makes people happy. i would rather spend my life not harming anyone than having all the power in the world, even if it means helping the 'greater good.' this was the way of the air nomads, and i believe that if everyone adopted this practice, the world would be a better place." he places his lotus tile in the center of the board, beating zuko by a hair. with their tea drained and their pai sho game over (5 - 0), zuko hugs iroh goodbye and heads back to his war balloon with the promise to see iroh again soon. there are tears in iroh's eyes as zuko leaves.

the day of black sun is finally upon them, and everyone is prepared to meet their destiny. zuko remembers to scrawl a hasty letter to mai before removing his armor and undoing his topknot. where he's going, he won't need these hollow signifiers. while azula is distracting sokka, aang, and toph, zuko walks into azulon's throne room, swords in hand. he calmly tells his grandfather that he can no longer belong to such a cruel and violent system. there is no changing it from the inside, so he's leaving. oh, and also, he didn't kill the avatar. azula lied about that. he wasn't sure that he was alive until now, but turns out the avatar is part of the invasion force, so good luck with that. azulon is so shocked he actually passes out.

zuko runs to his mother's chambers to let her know of his somewhat sudden change of plan, only he can't find her anywhere. on second thought, he probably should've told her ahead of time. now he has no clue where she is and he needs to leave soon if he wants to follow the avatar. also, it's probably for the best if she stays behind with azula anyway. he leaves a note on her dresser and rushes to his war balloon, right in time to pursue their flying bison.

none of them want to talk about what just happened. the invasion should've gone perfectly, but instead it was a colossal failure. sokka suggests that they still have time to stick to the old plan, teach aang firebending in time for sozin's comet. zuko, who managed to sneak up on them with their backs turned (minus toph), offers his services. before he can even finish waving awkwardly, katara has nearly speared him 20 times, and it's only with aang and sokka holding her arms back that her ice doesn't penetrate his flesh and instead just melts midair and splashes on top of him just someone dropped a freezing bucket on his head, the force of which knocks him over.

zuko slips and slides a little before finally righting himself and repeating his little speech. "i can teach firebending. to you." he tells aang, while trying not to shrivel under the weight of katara's glare. aang's like, "yeah, i don't think that's a good idea. you should probably leave before our muscles give out and we can no longer hold katara back." he takes one look at katara, who is frothing at the mouth ready to rip zuko into a million little pieces, and is like, "yeah okay."

toph tells them that they're being idiots. they need a firebending teacher, but apparently the guy who offers to teach them firebending isn't good enough because he ghosted katara or something? after katara has tired herself out of yelling to toph about all the ways in which he betrayed her, and then sokka tacks on that toph wasn't there, she hasn't actually witnessed zuko's bad vibes firsthand (which conflicts katara because on one hand, she quite likes zuko's vibes, but on the other hand, she wants to murder him), toph calls them blind and stomps away.

zuko is having one of his typical nightmares when he's interrupted by a little green child he only vaguely recognizes. he is not fully lucid upon hearing her, so his instinct, to shoot fire at her, proves to be a disastrous mistake. toph crawls all the way back to camp with burned feet. hurting katara emotionally was one thing (as protective of katara as sokka is, he also recognizes that katara does often set herself up to get hurt emotionally), but hurting toph physically is another. toph assures the furious siblings that she startled zuko, and it was an accident, but to katara it's just fuel for the flames, and to sokka it's the worst thing anyone could do. absolutely no way are they letting that violent clown anywhere near their friends.

then who shows up but combustion man. they can't run from him anymore, not if they want to preserve what's left of the western air temple. zuko runs right up to his face. "my sister hired you, right??? well i can pay you double to stop!!!!" he doesn't listen, for some reason. (maybe it's a matter of pride?) he shoves zuko aside with one extremely large hand. it's like picking up a kitten. it's impossible to fight this guy head-on. but sokka throws his boomerang square in his third eye, which results in him blowing himself up, and zuko too. almost.

aang has no choice but to thank zuko. even though sokka was the one to kill him, hello???? but, it was noble of zuko to attempt to save them. katara is tempted to suggest that it was all staged to make him seem heroic, but then thinks better of it. no one is that insane. he launches into a (far more coherent) speech (now that he's not at risk of developing hypothermia), and gives them the full explanation of why he made the choices he did, and what made him change his mind. zuko then apologizes to toph for burning her feet. he acknowledges the destructive nature of firebending, but that he only wants to use firebending to heal and help people from now on. this promise shifts something in aang. maybe zuko does need to be his firebending teacher.

he asks toph what she thinks, and of course toph is all for it. she knows a sincere apology when she hears one, and besides, zuko seems like an all right guy to her. sokka acquiesces that aang does need a firebending teacher, so he'll do whatever it takes to win the war, even if it means putting up with this absolute schmuck. katara glares at zuko while admitting through gritted teeth that she trusts aang's decision.

sokka shows zuko to his room and zuko is so grateful and happy so sokka tries to be polite, but afterwards he goes to aang and is like "okay it is literally so hard to be nice to that guy." katara shows up in zuko's doorway the second he's done setting up a photo of his mom by his bed and she threatens him so terrifyingly he nearly blacks out. since he hasn't eaten all day, his hunger wins out over his fear of katara and he joins them for dinner, where he finds out that three other people he's never seen before in his life are also staying here?? before he can properly introduce himself, sokka's just like "zuko, meet haru, teo, and the duke. guys, meet zuko, he's the piece of shit i was telling you about who's gonna teach aang firebending." zuko's just like, "...............................hello?"

zuko excuses himself from dinner early. he was already scared of sokka from the moment he met him, and that was before he watched him kill combustion man with a boomerang. now he also has reason to be terrified of katara. he burned their friend's feet. things are still pretty awkward with the avatar. and there are three other teenage boys here too. is it too late to go work in his uncle's teashop and avoid all his responsibilities?

the next day, zuko does some pretty weak firebending demonstrations for aang. frankly, firebending has always been one of his weakest skills. aang claps politely, but zuko feels like a fool. but then he remembers something iroh said during his visit, that everything he learned about true firebending could be found at the sun warriors' temple. aang's like, "aren't they all gone?" but zuko just shrugs. he trusts uncle iroh.

katara accuses zuko of wanting to take aang to secondary location so that he can drug and kill and possibly torture and even eat him, but aang's like, "no, katara, zuko is many things, but he's not a liar. plus i'm pretty sure i can take him lol i mean look at how skinny he is a gust of wind could knock him over." this gets katara to smile. "you're right, aang," she agrees, "i trust you." zuko is just standing there like, "okay well first of all that was really rude. also i'm not a cannibal??"

they come back a few days later with a fire nation dance locked and loaded. katara and sokka have a lot to say about it, but eventually zuko relaxes upon realizing that them gently homophobically bullying him is actually far preferable to them talking about how they would murder him. with aang now fully onboard the zuko train, it's easier for everyone else to integrate him into the group. toph, teo, haru, and the duke (not that zuko actually remembers any of their names) all treat him like he's any other friend, katara limits her dislike to mean jokes at his expense, and sokka is pretty quiet and withdrawn in general.

one night, sokka pulls zuko aside. zuko tries to mask his terror as he oh so casually asks, "so what's up?" sokka asks him where high ranking prisoners of war would be held, and zuko is forced to tell him once sokka admits that he wants to know about his dad. of course he's also aware that this means that sokka will not rest until he has found his father, so zuko ambushes him as he attempts to sneak off. sokka's like, "look, no offense, but even if i did let you come, you'd only slow me down. i don't need some useless imbecile getting me caught." zuko's like, "okay, well, offense taken, also you need a firebender to operate a war balloon and that's your only viable mode of transportation." sokka points out that actually that isn't true, he did quite literally invent the mechanism that allows war balloons to fly, and zuko's just like, "oh my god what the fuck nooooo" and "how is that even possible????" but then he says, "if you don't let me help you i'll literally kill myself right now and then you'll have to explain to aang why his new firebending teacher is dead. my blood will be on your hands." he's fully bluffing, but sokka isn't willing to take his chances (mostly because killing himself just to spite someone else has always lowkey been his fantasy). sokka is like, "well your blood will be on my hands either way but whatever it's your funeral" and zuko's like, "what?" and sokka's like "what?" and off they go.

they return with suki, hakoda, and chit sang, sokka now of the opinion that zuko is somewhat tolerable. what he lacks in brains he makes up for in bravery and extreme sincerity. azula shows up to the temple a while later with a crazed look in her eye that does not bode well. zuko, mai, and ty lee all betrayed her. her mother has disappeared god knows where. azulon's health is failing but it's clear he doesn't want her to succeed him now that he knows she lied to him to bring zuko back. he keeps asking for iroh. azula doesn't know what to do. all she can hope for is that if she kills the avatar and zuko for good then maybe grandfather will be able to forgive her before he dies. of course it can never be that easy.

the gaang celebrates another near escape, but katara sees nothing to celebrate. even sokka accepts zuko now. how is he of all people not on her side about this?! zuko goes to confront katara. he doesn't understand why she won't just trust him. she reminds him that she was the first person to trust him, to offer him a spot in their group. and he abandoned her, betrayed her trust. he asks what he can do to make it up to her. she snarls, "oh, i don't know, maybe you can bring my mother back!"

zuko doesn't really know what to do with that, since she told him what happened to her mother. zuko barges into sokka's tent without a second thought and asks him what the flag emblem on the ships that raided them that day looked like. sokka tells him, as quickly as possible, so that he'll leave him the fuck alone. zuko waits outside katara's tent all night to share this information with her. they go track yon rha down, despite aang and sokka's concerns.

katara returns with a newfound understanding of herself, of her own humanity. of how to let go of the stories she told herself to survive, and instead better appreciate what's real, even when it's not pretty. she understands zuko better now too. she hugs him, and from that moment onwards, they are best friends.

they travel to ember island, where they spend their remaining days until sozin's comet. from his deathbed, azulon tells his granddaughter that she can't be trusted with the plan – her plan – to burn the earth kingdom to the ground. instead he'll send a delegation of generals on their airship fleet. he wants to keep her close, in the palace, where he won't have to worry about her screwing things up. guards follow her everywhere. no matter what she does or where she goes, she knows there are eyes on her, watching for any signs of further betrayal. she's a glorified prisoner, having to pretend she doesn't notice. needless to say, this situation is terrible for her already rapidly declining mental health.

informed of the plan to raze the earth kingdom, aang isn't sure what to do. zuko reminds him that azulon is in his final years, but azula is next in line to take the throne. aang isn't sure what's worse, having to kill an old man or a teenager. zuko reminds aang that this "old man" is responsible for the decimation of the southern water tribe and occupation of the earth kingdom. aang doesn't like being talked down to as if he doesn't already know that, so he leaves the room. he needs to be alone, to meditate and reflect on what impossible choice he must make next.

the next morning, aang is missing. they can't find him anywhere; they even search the entire island, but despite the fact that his glider is still in the house, he's gone. zuko takes them to june the bounty hunter to track him down, but she informs them that he's disappeared. for all intents and purposes, he doesn't exist. zuko refuses to lose hope. he gives june his mother's shawl. sokka's like "you just take that with you.... everywhere you go?" but katara and toph are like "awww no it's sweet shut up." she leads them just outside the outer wall of ba sing se.

they make camp there for the night, but are awoken by four old masters. they lead them inside the white lotus camp grounds, where it turns out that iroh, ursa, and about an eighth of zuko's former crew have been living since the day of black sun. as it turns out, ursa received a letter from iroh after zuko visited him, cryptically instructing her to meet him on the outer wall of ba sing se on the day of the invasion. zuko asks his mom why she didn't take him or azula with her, but ursa admits that she didn't know where they were and she didn't have time to find them. she could only hope they would remain safe in her absence.

katara is shocked. "you've been a member of the white lotus the entire time???" she asks ursa. she informs her that actually, she just joined in an official capacity. she kept regular correspondence with iroh, but she wasn't herself a member. then he invited her to participate in their mission to take back ba sing se for the earth kingdom. ursa has vital information on the city that was integral to their plans, being the only member of the organization who's actually lived there and all. besides, they could use another firebender, especially if they plan on striking during sozin's comet.

zuko is, of course, overjoyed to see his mother again, but he admits that he's worried about azula. they've left her behind in the palace once again, but this time she doesn't have mai and ty lee to rely on, and she's fallen out of their grandfather's good graces. they devise a plan. sokka, suki, and toph will take down the airship fleet, while zuko and katara go to the palace. they have to be careful. the palace is filled with guards, and they don't want to fight any more people than they have to. they find azula, sitting alone in her room with scissors in her hand and clumps of hair on the floor.

"what are you doing?" zuko asks. "is it not obvious?" azula retorts. "i'm giving myself a royal haircut. i have to look good for my coronation after all. any day now, grandfather will take his last breath, and i will become firelord. it's a shame that it has to happen after sozin's comet, since i would have done an excellent job of burning the earth kingdom to the ground, but no matter, i'm sure the generals will do a fine job as well. grandfather wants me by his side in his final days, you see. i find the sentiment a bit maudlin, but he is dying, so i can forgive him this." her words are slightly slurred as she rambles.

zuko merely scoffs. "you're not going to become firelord," he says. azula laughs, high and manic. "oh, you think you're going to become firelord? after you disgraced our nation by joining the avatar? you're hilarious." katara readies her water. "and you're going down," she snaps back. they get into fighting stances, but zuko puts his hand out. "wait, no," he says. "i don't wanna be firelord." all the fight is knocked out of azula out of sheer surprise. "but didn't you always say it was your destiny?" she asked. "i spent our whole lives trying to convince you not to be firelord and suddenly... you agree?" zuko nods. "yeah pretty much."

but suddenly another problem presents itself. who will take the throne? katara suggests ursa, but azula shakes her head. "she would never agree to it. she hates it here." same goes for iroh. "what about you?" zuko asks. "could you do it?" katara laughs. then she realizes he's serious. then she laughs even harder. "or sokka? sokka could be good." katara's like, "i know, let's get momo to be firelord. we can make him a little cape and crown." she's obviously being sarcastic, but zuko, who adores momo, puts his hand on his heart as he says, "i can think of no one worthier." meanwhile azula's like, "who the hell is momo?"

they explain to azula that momo is their pet flying lemur, and azula's just like, "you know what? fuck it. that's hilarious. i don't even care anymore. life's just a waste of time until you die anyway, right? so what the hell." katara and zuko exchange a look. gently, zuko asks, "um.... azula? do you wanna talk about it?"

by the time everyone else gets back to the palace (sokka with a broken leg, but everyone else relatively unscathed), zuko and katara are just like, "oh, good, you're all alive. and on our end, azula is taking a nap. yeah she cried so hard she eventually passed out. but now she's sleeping soundly :)"

ursa goes to check on azula, who is curled up in bed with her hair in a braid and a cup of half-finished tea on her bedside table. she decides not to disturb her daughter while she's resting. whatever conversation they should have can wait for tomorrow. then she goes to azulon's room, where he's slowly dying. she decides to speed up the process. meanwhile, zuko and katara inform their friends that they've decided that they're going to crown momo as the next firelord. aang, sokka, toph, and suki are all ecstatic. this the best possible outcome. (the only objector is appa, who maintains that he would do a better job, but his roar of indignation sounds a lot like his roar of agreement, so everyone just assumes that he's happy for his friend's new promotion.)

#callmeshei #asks #AUs #ursa #zuko #azula #katara #momo #ursa&zuko #azula&ursa #katara&zuko #momo&zuko #not tagging everyone else #there are the Main Characters #sorry for zutaracoding this btw. its platonic i prommy #i cant believe i wrote SO MUCH for this stupid fucking ask that required i crown momo firelord at the end #this literally took me months to write #i need to get it together!!!!!!!!!! #its ok tho there are enough sentences in this that i find funny that it was worth it #now watch no one read it.......... #outlines #sort of? #idk. girl

[partystoragechest]

It's been a whole year since I posted the Prologue of Unwanted on a ridiculous whim. I did contemplate doing something special for this event, but I think we'd all prefer if I just got on with writing it instead.

#i cant believe i panic about not posting after 7 days when there is nearly a full MONTH between the prologue and the addendum #it took another month to get to chapter two for god's sake #though to be fair i committed to writing this to get me back into writing regularly #so it's worked!!! experiment success!! well done everyone #codex entries

[officerdougeiffel]

I have. finally updated my fic. if anyone is interested in some klave slow burn

#i cant believe it took me 7 months to get motivation to write again #i hope it is okay i wrote it on a weeks worth of drinking #tua #the umbrella academy #klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz

[tintinology]

Me: "time to work on outlining the multichapter fic idea I've been working on for two months!"

Also me: gets distracted and handwrites a five page fic based on a throwaway idea I got at breakfast instead

#cant believe im procrastinating writing fics by...writing other fics #self discipline? whats that? #at least im writing again ig #took me a month to write my last fic and it was only 2k words lol #(im still not happy with it but i posted it anyways cuz whatever) #ramblings

[godheadjones]

You Stay Away From Her, It’s Not Her Time

The silence wins whatever battle it had been fighting with their words and Archie doesn't say much. He thinks a lot, though. Wishes for Tabitha to be safe, for Jughead to be okay, for the broken town to fix itself, but that last one can never happen. Not in this generation, not ever.

Jughead strokes Tabitha's hand. Her hand is so delicate. He feels like any wrong stroke or touch could send her shattering, dying at his hand. But the weight of her hand in his comforts him. It's his way of fighting fate.

---

read on ao3

fandom: riverdale

ship: jabitha (jughead x tabitha)

chapters: 1/1

word count: 932

taglist: @jabitha-endgame @polaroid-fangirl13 @jabithajates @imreallytryinghelp (ask to be added or removed)

#layla writes #jabitha #jughead jones #tabitha tate #6x11 #jabithacentral #jabitha fic #riverdale fic #riverdale #lol felt kinda angsty #anway hope its enjoyed you got tabitha missing jughead now jughead is 'missing' tabitha #i had this idea for a while i cant believe it took me almost a month to finish this wow #i felt like crying when writing this so that my sry if you end up crying/almost crying

[meanderfall]

this video game ending gonna make me cry

#i get EMOTIONAL over the parting of ways #and the reflection of the journey we took together #also. cant fucking believe this game is gonna make me want to write sherlock and mycroft brother fic #LET! THEM! BE! BROTHERS!!!!! #hate this hostility. stop it #it's esp wack bc they always put mycroft as like. a well-meaning protective older brother but is too controlling #or lies or whatever. #and it just. bro #if nothing else i GUESS it's a good explanation for why in the books #they dont appear to talk much #with sherlock never mentioning him and mycroft respecting his boundaries and keeping out of his life. mostly #HOWEVER #let them be neurodivergent weirdos #who don't recognize the passage of time #after they meet mycroft watson's like 'we havent heard from mycroft in a while is he ok?' #sherlock: ??? what are you talking about #watson: it's been a couple of months..... #sherlock: has it???? #sherlock: the british empire hasnt collapsed upon itself yet so im sure he's still alive #sherlock writing a letter to mycroft completely bemused #under watson's eye bc he really is kind of concerned #mycroft takes three weeks to reply and he's just as baffled

[soullumii]

if my heart’s gonna break | joel miller x f!reader

part 1 (read part 1 before reading this!)

summary: a couple nights later, you head back to joel’s

warnings: 18+!!!! smut again. unprotected piv. fem!afab!reader. angst again don’t worry i’ll make a happy ending okay

word count: 4k

joel mod in gif is by speclizer (so fucking hot oh my GODDDD)

a/n: finally finished part 2 omg i’m sorry for the wait yall… i’m a perfectionist it’s lowkey debilitating. anyways… i hope u guys enjoy <3 tysm for the support on part 1 and tbh on all my other fics too… i can’t believe ppl like my writing that much. i am very grateful! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

im scared but if my heart's gonna break before the night will end

i said we're in danger

sleeping with a friend

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

You cant stop thinking about the kiss. 

The kiss that honestly shouldn’t mean so much to you. You’ve kissed him, like, so many times. So many times his tongue has been in your mouth, been in your damn vagina. So why the fuck… why the fuck are you so worked up over this right now?

It’s just…it was so heavy. It felt like…like more than just a kiss. Like he was laying his life down for you, much like he does in patrols. 

He… Joel… he usually never kisses right after sex. He recognizes in the post-coitus energy that things are different. They mean more. He has to know that. So… why now? Does he…?

No. You’re just in your head again. Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard. You’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before now. Maybe this… maybe this is regular.

But for your own psyche, you think you might have to set some ground rules. 

There was always that main rule, that wretched, critical rule. The one you said to him on the first day of your strange exchange.

“Don’t go falling in love with me, cowboy.”

Well, to hell with that one, right? Pretty sure you’ve beaten that shit to death. Shattered all possible remains of it.

So more rules. More rules will have to do. Starting with:

No kissing.

Should be easy enough. 

You’ll figure out the rest later. You have got to stop thinking about it, though, because you’re on the way to his house right now. 

You knock swiftly on the door, and you swear you feel your heart drop into your pussy the moment he opens the door to reveal himself. A plain, black t-shirt is stretched across his broad chest, haphazardly tucked into a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. His graying hair is ruffled beyond belief, curling around his ears and falling over his forehead. In your fits of passion and desire a couple nights ago, you hardly realized it had grown longer. It looks nice.

This sleepy and soft Joel is not one you’ve seen in a while. Well, it’s not like you’ve seen him much lately anyway, with him having been gone and all. Still, it’s disorienting. 

“Howdy,” he says.

“Um. Hi.” You try not to gawk. “Did…did I come at a bad time, or something?”

“No, not at all. I just got back from patrols… took a shower,” he says, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb, strong arms crossing over his chest. There’s a tiny, barely perceptible smirk on his lips. “Need somethin’?”

You see it now, the water clinging to his hair, darkening it, beading at his temples like sweat. You follow a line of water trickling down his throat until it disappears behind his collar.

Rule 2: Don’t come over after he’s showered.

“I…uh, I can come back later if you want—“

You’re nervous to ask him what you want to ask him, which is honestly ridiculous considering you guys have been doing this for months now. You used to be able to just knock on his door and he’d pull you in, and it was that easy. Or you’d give him a look when in public, and he knew exactly what you needed.

Now, you’re painfully awkward. Curse him and curse your feelings.

He straightens a bit, his brows furrowing in slight concern. “What’s goin’ on?”

Heat spreads down your neck, embarrassment. Shame. It’s strange, how just a couple nights ago you let him finger you in public, and now you’re afraid to ask him for sex again in his house and for your panties back.

You should honestly just say something like:

I’m here for my underwear.

And you’re positive he’d say:

Want it back? You gotta earn it, sweetheart.

And your knees would buckle and you’d sink down to the carpeted floor in front of his couch and suck him off until he was coming down your throat, stroking back your hair and thumbing his cum on your plush bottom lip.

But instead you’re scowling at him and blurting: “I need a drink.”

How dare he leave you high and dry for three weeks, come back and fuck the shit out of you, make you realize you’re in love with him, and look this good?

God damnit, you need to get your shit together. 

Joel’s eyes widen, surprised only slightly by your outburst, before he backs up to allow you inside his home. When he shuts the door behind you, his hand settles warmly on your lower back as he steers you toward the kitchen.

He immediately beelines for the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of red for you. A warm, tingly feeling stirs in your stomach at the fact that he knew you’d want wine. The frustration you’ve been feeling fizzles out. 

“You know me so well.”

He gives you a light smirk, uncorking the bottle. The liquor gurgles as he pours it into a glass. “Think you’d kill me if I didn’t know after all this time.”

You laugh, “Sure, but the real test of friendship is if you knew how I’d kill you.”

“A swift kick to the nuts and then one of my guitars to my head.”

Your eyes widen on a guffaw. “You think I’d damage one of your guitars?”

“You care more about my guitars than my genitals?” 

“Yes. Why would I ever smash one of your guitars?”

He rolls his eyes. “Kill two birds with one stone—my soul and my body. It’s effective. If you needed to kill me, I’d hope it was like that. Now how would I kill you?” 

You hum in consideration. “Trick question. You wouldn’t—no, you couldn’t.”

“You know me so well.” 

His words mirrored back at you so gently, with his brown eyes trained on you intently has the warmth in your belly spreading, making you drop your gaze.

His smirk grows and he hands you the wine glass and reaches for some homemade brandy. You watch the muscles in his arm flex as he pours, sipping daintily while your mind replays thoughts of filth. Of you dragging that arm between your legs, grinding down on it until—

“So, you really only here for a drink?” He asks with a playful lilt, taking a sip of his own beverage and effectively jolting you out of your daydreaming.

You lean against the island, wondering if you should tell him the truth. From the way he’s looking at you, hungrily and heated, like a lion ready to pounce, you’re tempted to.

But…you’re afraid. You can’t stop thinking about The Rule. The one you broke and the ones you just made. You wonder if whatever might happen between you two tonight will unravel them before you can even put them into place.

You look up at him through your lashes, lips pursed around the rim of the glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

His eyes darken, tongue darting out to lick his lips of sweet fermented wine. His gaze travels up and down your figure, comfortable and breathable in a t-shirt and shorts. Nothing fancy and cute like your sundress from the other night, because today you had to work. But Joel has never minded what you’ve worn, swearing you always look sexy in anything.

Which is something that also makes you question this friends with benefits situation you have here.

He sets his glass down and eases in closer, curling an arm around your waist to pull you into him. “How high’s the chance then?”

“…What do you mean?”

“I mean what’s the probability that you really did only come here for a drink?” he drawls, eyes following your lips as your tongue dips out to wet them. “Or was there another reason?”

The cold tip of his nose brushes along your throat, lips ghosting over your skin. You tremble in his hold. “Odds are in favor of the first option,” you breathe, “ran out of alcohol at my place.”

“And you couldn’t just stop by the Bison? Had to steal from my stores?”

“You know you have the good stuff.”

“You’re lyin’ but I’ll pretend like you ain’t.”

That makes you laugh, and more tumble out of you when one of his hands traces lazily over your stomach, fingers light and delicate and teasing.

“So why d’ya need a drink?”

Because you’re driving me crazy. Because I’m driving myself crazy. Because the universe wants to fuck me over.

You smile and your free hand skates up his muscled back, your fingers brushing along the stretchy fabric of his tee, your voice soft. “Just needed to destress a little. Work has been intense.”

He grins back, presses it into the spanse between your throat and your shoulder, before he lightly scrapes his teeth over it and lays a gentle bite that has you keening into him, pressing your body against his.

“Well, I could help you destress another way too,” he murmurs, palm squeezing the pudgy flesh of your waist, fingers digging lightly into your muscle.

“Mm… yeah?” you hum, your voice a low purr, back arching. Your breasts press into his chest, and Joel makes a sound deep in his throat in agreement.

He presses you into the island, caging you in with his hands on either side of you. He towers over you, a sweatpant clad leg sliding between yours. 

He leans down to kiss you, and a flashing light blares in your mind — NO KISSING — loud and bright and distracting. You turn your head at the last second, his lips landing on your cheek. But Joel doesn’t pull back, doesn’t question you. He just kisses down your cheek, along your jaw, mouthing at you. Sucking your skin to leave little marks that will either fade or be covered by concealer. 

It used to upset you when he left marks because they’re a pain to cover up. Then, you started to like it. You didn’t mind covering up the marks because when you took the makeup off and saw them at the end of the day, all you could think about was him. About the how he made you come. About the words he muttered in your ear. About the feeling of his hands on you—in you. 

Now, you’re starting to grow upset again, but this time it’s because you want to wear them proudly. Want people to know he gets to claim you like this. But… you can’t. But you also don’t want him to stop.

You allow him to continue marking you up, his hand coming up to rest behind your skull, holding you in place. You press your body into his eagerly and with desperate, soft noises that he returns with placating moans.

And then he shifts, and his thigh ruts against your clothed core, and you moan lightly, airily, grinding your hips down against him, searching for any friction. 

His hands curl around the hem of your white tee, and he peels it off your body. One skates behind your back to easily undo the clasp of your bra, and then your breasts are heavy and on display for him. 

Joel stares down at you with heavy eyes. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

Longing claws at your chest, and you look up at him coyly, your lip caught between your teeth. Joel groans like he’s in pain, and squeezes along the underside of one of your breasts before leaning down to close his mouth over the nipple while his other hand gives attention to the other, squeezing and pinching. Your hands find purchase in his damp hair as low moans tumble from your lips. 

When he’s deemed one nipple adequately appreciated, he moves onto the next. Licking, revering, his dark eyes peering up at you while his peppered hair is fisted in your hands. The sight has slick arousal pooling in your underwear.

Eventually he pulls back and his hands clamp down on your hips. He guides you along the muscle of his thigh, your clit pulsing at the contact. 

“Want you to come on my thigh, baby.” His voice is a ragged slur of words against your ear, warm and paired with a kiss to your cartilage. 

“Fuck…yes, Joel,” you whimper, sparks flying through your nerves with each roll of your hips.

His fingers grip your chin, tilting your head so you have no choice but to keep eye contact with him as you rut against his thigh. He’s grinning, eyes heavy lidded and deep, dark like wet tar. They suck you in as if they were quicksand.

You’d let him drag you under a million times over. 

Your best friend.

“Joel,” you moan, feeling yourself grow close. Standing at the cliff's edge. His eyes bore into yours, his grin slipping as he focuses on you. Focuses on making you shatter atop him.

“Come on, baby. You can do it. You can come,” he says encouragingly,  fingers stroking the skin of your hip. You feel tears prick your eyes as the waves crash, spreading from your throbbing clit along your muscles. Filling you with warmth, stronger and deeper than the buzz from the wine.

“Good job,” he praises gently. “Did so good.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

He laughs, and despite yourself, heat floods your body, throbs between your thighs. His words caress a deep, carnal animal inside of you, and the hunger takes over.

You frantically pull at his shirt until he has to tell you to slow down, and takes it off himself. Your hands run along his chest and stomach the moment they��re able to and down to the waistband of his sweats. You palm his hardening cock through the soft, gray fabric. Joel groans deep and heavy, his lashes fluttering as he stares you down. His hips thrust into your palm automatically. Involuntarily. 

God, that makes you light up like a firefly. Makes your nerves sing and your cunt flutter and your mind go numb.

He tugs down your shorts and underwear and sets you on top of the granite, but before he can strip the underwear from your ankle to no doubt pocket this pair like he did the other, you flick it off your foot across the kitchen. It lands somewhere near the door to the dining room.

He can’t steal all your underwear, or you’ll have none left.

“I wanted those,” he drawls, expression on the edge of a pout.

“Yeah, well I need them. It’s not common to come across a good pair of panties in this world.” 

“But I’d give ‘em back.” He’s full on pouting now. It is, unfortunately, very cute, but you’re used to it.

“Sure… like the pair you took from me the other night that I have yet to receive.” 

“How else am I supposed to get you to come over?” 

“I dunno? Maybe ask?”

“Should I leave a note on your door? Is that good enough for you?”

“At least be classy. A letter delivered in my mailbox with a wax stamp, please.” 

He laughs. “As you wish, Princess.”

He finally peels off his sweatpants, free of underwear beneath them, and you watch with barely concealed hunger as his cock springs free. 

And while you like the idea of him fucking you on the counter, you’d much rather him fuck you against the counter, so you hop down and turn so your back faces him. Your hands curl around the granite lip of the counter top, and you push your ass out and back, peering at him over your shoulder.

This way, it’s easier for him not to kiss you. Easier for you to turn your head and deny your lips to him. 

“Look at you…” Joel hums appreciatively at your show, at the wiggle of your hips as his palm smooths down your back and over your ass, squeezing at the plump flesh. 

You moan quietly, and Joel’s eyes darken, watching you intently like you’re the only thing in the room. 

His fingers drift down to your cunt and your slickness coats his fingers fully. You’re so wet for him. So ready for him to bury himself inside you and call you his.

It’s funny, you’ve lost all your heat from a few nights ago. All your sharp edged words. Now, you’re soft and pliant.

He swirls his soaked index and middle fingers along your clit, punctuating your sensitivity, before sliding them back inside you to the knuckle. You keen and push back, desperate for more. His fingers are so much longer than yours, thicker, and yet you crave more.

“That’s it, Joel,” you huff. “Fuck, feels so good. Need more.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

Shame lights your cheeks, but you push down the embarrassment. “Need…need your cock inside me.”

He lays a kiss on your neck. “Still a bit desperate aren’t we?”

“You’re the desperate one, Mr. Panty Stealer. You’re a fucking creep.”

He chuckles against your neck, but he squeezes your ass in retaliation. “Be nice, would you?”

“You like it when I’m mean.”

“Wanna see how much I like it?”

“If you’re willing to show me and get on with this, sure.”

He huffs in amused frustration. “God, you’re annoyin’.”

You just smile innocently at him.

Your legs tremble, slick running down your thighs when Joel pulls his fingers out. He replaces them with the hardness of his cock, of which he runs along your wetness, readying himself.

“I think ‘bout you way too much,” he says into your back, pressing a gentle kiss there. “D’ya think ‘bout me too?”

It’s an odd question. One you’re not expecting. One that has your heart stuttering in quiet confusion from this sudden switch in tone.

“Of course I do.” Obviously. You told him as much. Three weeks. Three weeks you thought about him.

“Good… wanna be the only thing on your mind.”

A high pitched keen hisses through your teeth as Joel eases himself inside you with a long, slow stroke and a low moan. Your fingers white knuckle the countertop, gripping it tightly.

He presses in close, burying himself all the way in before he withdraws slowly, his cock sliding inside you torturously. 

“Joel,” you moan.

“I know, baby.” He presses kisses to your shoulders. 

Joel’s hand gravitates to the back of your knee, and he slowly pushes up to lift your leg until your knee is resting on the counter. 

And then… with this new angle…he starts fucking you in earnest.

His hips snap against your ass, the sound deafening in the kitchen, and you crumple against the granite with a moan.

“Shit,” Joel grunts. “Yeah.”

Each of his heavy thrusts punches the air from your lungs, and your fingers slip on the countertop, scrabbling for purchase every chance you can get. He’s hot, thick inside you, warm as he folds over you, his hand on your tummy holding you upright, the other keeping your leg up to continue hitting you at that pleasant, delicious angle.

“H-holy shit—oh—“

He breathes heavily at your neck, low grunts and moans escaping his lips from his efforts. “Could spend eternity inside you, darlin’. Fuck, you’re mine.”

Your heart stutters, the words uttered in a lust filled craze, likely meaning nothing. But to your traitorous brain, to the hope lingering in your chest like a persistent cough, they mean everything. 

“All…” you’re losing your train of thought, fucked into blissful nothingness. “All yours, Joel.” 

It’s too difficult for him to kiss you from this angle, which you’re relieved about. But a part of you longs for it, longs for the feel of his mouth moving against yours. 

Joel’s strong arm wraps around your chest, and pulls you up so you’re flush against his back as he pounds up and into you. Keens and whimpers and breathless pants escape you with every thrust.

“Please, Joel,” you cry, tears pricking at the edges of your swirling vision.

“What, baby?” He huffs. “Need’a come?”

You nod crazily. “Yes—need to—“

“Shhh okay… I’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the hand wrapped around your tummy inching down to circle at your clit steadily.

Your legs buckle beneath you but Joel keeps you upright as the pleasure soars through you, sudden and strong. He strokes you through it, groaning praises into your ear before he comes inside you a moment later. 

The two of you hiss in tandem when he pulls out, but he smothers it when he lays his mouth over yours. You’re hardly coherent enough to remember your rule, and for a moment you let him kiss you. You kiss him back, chasing the heat of his mouth with your own, moaning against his lips when his tongue dips into your mouth. 

Then, you remember.

You pull back panting, cheeks a flame, “Joel.”

“Hm?” He murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw before moving back up to pull you into another kiss. You move away before he can. His brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… I don’t think we should kiss anymore.”

He blinks. “What? Why?”

Your eyes flit across the kitchen, catching on labeled jars and wooden spoons and spices, anything but his own. “It’s too intimate.” 

It’s a lame excuse. Joel sees through it immediately.

“And my cock inside you ain’t?”

You sigh heavily, avoiding eye contact. “It’s different.”

“How? Enlighten me.” His tone has gone rougher. Hurt swirls in his eyes, and you feel worse than you did the other night.

Because you and I are friends. Because I don’t think I can pretend like that’s the truth when all I want is to call you mine. Because when I kiss you it’s like my world finally starts to make sense. 

“Please, Joel. Just…I don’t want to do it anymore. Can you respect that, please?”

He runs a hand down his beard, his hurt expression hardening into a stoic one you haven’t been on the receiving end of in years. Fuck. “Alright, I’m sorry. I won’t kiss you anymore.”

You expect relief but all that comes is a deep longing and sadness that you try to push to the depths of your conscience. Though, like a buoy, it keeps popping above the surface. 

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

The cleanup is awkward. He watches you silently as you pick up your underwear and slide them and your shorts back on. He seems far away, here and gone all at once. It makes you worry, makes you wonder if what you just said was the biggest mistake of your life.

But you have to do this. You have to hold him at arm's length because if you admit to him…if you tell him how you really feel… maybe he really will leave you. He’ll realize you’ve gone and fucked everything up, and the friendship you’ve kindled, the trust you’ve built, will all be for nothing.

You can’t lose him, even if it means you can’t keep him close.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say eventually, when he’s walking you out the front door.

He smiles at you, faint and untrue. It’s like the one from the other night. Like that laugh he forced out for you. You feel like a Joel from the past has teleported to the present, with his thin smile and his hard eyes. “Yeah, of course.”

“You okay?”

Joel frowns, shifts on his feet. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno. You just seem… I don’t know. Never mind.”

“I’m good.” 

“You sure?”

He nods. “You need me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you hum. A moth circles the porch light. The two of you stare at each other for a long moment. He looks as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” is all that he says. 

“Okay,” you repeat, feeling empty. A waif, a lonely white flag waving in the wind. “Um, I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Night, darlin’,” he says, squeezing your arm, like he’s trying to be normal. It doesn’t work. His hand is cold. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night, Joel.”

It’s raining by the time you reach your house, and you curl under your blankets after a shower, your hair cold and wet against your scalp, listening to the droplets splattering against your window.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

part 3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #this is trouble

[ayvnari]

bloodied lips

rhea ripley x f!reader

After losing her fight, she seeks her girlfriend out to blow off some steam.

word count: 1.8k

(incomplete bc idk if its good)

18+!!

warnings : rhea taking her anger out on you, mean-ish rhea, cursing, smoking, mommy rhea, pure smut, oral r!recieving and r!giving, fingering r!recieving, teasing, edging, slight sadism/ masochism, thigh riding, bad girl good girl type, degredation/ praise kink, rough fucking, strap usage, cowgirl, mirror stuff, somewhat bratty reader, idk what else just really slutty

note: this is about the summer slam 2021, rhea ripley vs. nikki a.s.h vs. charlotte flair, also this is my first time writing smut that wasn't a jokey joke so erm!!! and theres barely any plot, mostly just smut bc.

if you asked me a year ago, i never would have imagined myself front row at the summer slam, but yet i was here.

i watched rhea walk into the ring, she practically demanded respect with her presence. and god knows i would give it to her. i couldn't believe i was watching my girlfriend walk into a ring.

of course, i've seen it plenty of times, but i could never get enough of it. and the best part was that she was always the most riled up after winning a good match.

but, what i didn't expect was the complete opposite. not only did she not win, she failed miserably. i winced at every blow she suffered, nikki and charlotte were not holding back.

everytime rhea looked at me in the crowd i blew her a kiss, that would usually pick her spirits up. but she was far too angry to care about me, or anyone for that matter, all she cared about was winning this fight.

after the fight, i waited back in her dressing room for rhea. i was sitting at her vanity, watching the next fight on the tv in the corner of the room. she walked in fuming.

curses spilled out of her mouth.

"that fucking bitch , using those cheesy ass moves , fucking bitch!" she yelled, her australian accent booming through the room. she kicked one of the chairs, before glaring at herself in the mirror.

i jumped as she kicked the chair, i furrowed my eyebrows. "rhea?" i said, my voice calm as i tried to hopefully calm her down.

she looked at me, but it wasn't the normal, loving look she gave me before the match, it was a death glare.

i gulped, before taking a deep breath. "lets calm down, okay? i mean... it cant be that bad." i smiled sheepishly. "there's always next ti-"

"no, there isn't a fucking next time y/n!" she yelled. " i spent fucking months training for this fight and i couldn't do shit, so don't tell me about next time, i don't need a fucking pep talk." rhea clenched her fists, running her hands over her head as she paced around the room.

i stayed quiet, looking down.

"get over here." she told me, i just looked up at her.

"i said, get the fuck over here, y/n. im not in a good mood." she said, wiping the blood off her lips as she stared at me, her voice eerily calm.

i got up from the vanity that i sat in, i looked up at rhea, she could be terrifying when she was pissed. i took small steps towards her, before she grabbed me by the back of my neck.

my eyes widened as she pulled me into a kiss. my face flushed a deep crimson as she bit my lip harshly. i was used to rhea being a bit rough, but i couldn't help but be surprised when i felt a sharp, burning pain on my lip, and blood trickled from my lip onto her own.

she pulled back, rubbing her thumb over my bottom lip, smudging the blood on my lips. she licked the blood of her lips, her eyes filled with anger and lust. almost as a warning of what was to come if i didn't obey her.

"take your clothes off." rhea demanded. my eyes widened. we had never done anything like this in such a public place, nevermind outside our bedroom. even if it was her dressing room, we both knew that her coach would be in here any minute now to reprimand her.

"rhea you can't be seri-"

"off. now."

i looked down, it was clear i wasn't gonna get a word in. "but-"

she grabbed me roughly. "y/n, im not in the fucking mood right now for your bratty shit. just do as i say, now take. it. off." i knew i should be scared of her, but the wetness in my panties were telling me otherwise.

i knew i shouldn't tease her, but i couldn't help myself. i turned my head to the side and crossed my arms.

"no."

rhea's eyes turned a dark shade of red, she growled. "what the hell do you mean, 'no'?!" she yelled. my eyes widened at her tone, gosh she was such a turn on when she was angry.

"i said no! i don't wanna, i wanna finish watching the fight." i huffed, before sitting down on a nearby couch, ignoring rhea entirely. i could practically feel her staring at the back of my head, her eyes like lazers.

i heard her breathing increase, i was surprised steam wasn't coming out of her ears. i knew she wasn't gonna let this behavior slide, and that only excited me more.

i heard rhea walk out, slamming the door behind her. she was pissed.

by the time we got back into her car to leave, rhea couldn't keep her eyes off of me, she was practically begging for my attention, and i didn't listen to her.

"y/n. look at me." she demanded, she was still pissed about her fight, and even more pissed that i wasn't paying her any mind.

"you know what? okay." that was all rhea said. my eyes widened and i looked at her, but rhea was already pulling out of the parking space.

did i fuck up? no.

i looked at the smirk that adorned her face, she had something planned, and i was completely unprepared.

the second we got back to her apartment, she pushed me up against the wall and gripped my hair, pulling my head to look at her. she gripped me tight, i winced in pain, her large hand was a blessing and a cruse. i felt her hand unbuckle my belt and unzipping my jeans. she roughly stuck her hands into my jeans, her large, calloused fingers tracing me through my panties.

i let out a shaky breath. "rhea..." i whined, i couldn't ignore her when her hands were on me, it was impossible.

"shut the fuck up." rhea glared at me. "you wanted to be a fucking brat? i'll treat you like a brat." she scoffed, a smirk played at her lips. if i weren't so turned on i probably would have punched her.

she wrapped her large hands around my waist, and picked me up like i weighed nothing. she threw me over the shoulder and took me to our bedroom.

she pushed me into the room, standing me in front of the large closet mirror.

"look at me." her voice caught me off guard and my eyes caught hers in the mirror, i felt a shiver run down my back as she glared at me.

she smirked, and started unbuckling my jeans, pulling them down roughly. they pooled at my feet as she forced a hand in my underwear, her calloused fingers running over my slit.

"god, fucking slut..." she cooed. i closed my eyes, and she bit my ear roughly. "you've been acting like such a bitch all day, you wanted this didn't you?"

i looked at her in the mirror, pleading for her to touch me. every touch of hers felt like heaven, and i needed more.

she scoffed. "what do you want?" she raised her chin up, tilting her head. god, i loved when she did that.

my words caught in my throat, i felt her thumb slowly graze my skin, and I felt my knees become weak.

"use your words." her voice was husky and demanding.

"i... i..." my words didn't seem to want to come out of my mouth.

rhea began to get frustrated, she pulled her hand out of my underwear, and gripped my waist, pulling it towards her. she roughly pushed me against the mirror, her hands the only things holding me up as my cheek smushed against the glass.

my heavy breath fogged up the mirror, as I looked back towards rhea, whos grinded her hips against me. "tell me what you want." she repeated, her hand inching up my shirt before roughly gripping one of my breasts.

i let out a surprised yelp. "rhea... i... i want you... please..." i begged, my voice was hoarse and whiny, i wasn't proud of it but at this point i couldn't care less.

"im pissed, y/n." she growled. "i wanted you to help me, and instead you gave me back talk then completely ignored me. do you really expect me to touch you?" she said, her voice was mocking, i could practically hear her smirk.

i should be mad, but i couldn't help the wet spot that formed on my underwear.

rhea let out a groan of frustration, sitting on the bed. she was manspreading as she glared at me, leaning back on her arms.

"so do it yourself."

my breath hitched at her words. "rhea... please i can't-"

"do it. you really wanna keep pissing me off?" she threatened.

i let out a small sigh, my eyes glazed over. she pulled me down on her leg, looking up at me.

i bit my lip, looking at her. her words repeated in my head

do you really wanna keep pissing me off?

my cooter wooter ached at her words. i moved my hips, moving them back and forth on her thigh.

i bit my lip and let out a soft moan.

she sat there watching me, clearly amused by the predicament she put me in.

I held onto her shoulders, rutting my hips on her thigh, the feeling of her denim jeans drove me crazy. god, and that look in her eye. it made me feel so powerless.

i felt that familiar knot in my stomach, i hid my face in the nook of her neck. i rocked my hips, they began to ache as i tried to chase my high.

"rhea... please... im so close... im gonna-" i was suddenly knocked off balance by rhea bouncing her leg, my orgasm fading away from me.

"i don't think you deserve it." rhea said, glaring at me.

i looked up at her, my lip trembling. "rhea please... i'll do anything!" i cried into her chest.

rhea sighed, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and lighting it, she took a drag and blew it in my face, her black lipstick staining the paper casing.

"go get it." she said, before taking another drag, the tip of the cigarette lighting a bright red as she did.

i felt relief at those words, was she gonna finally give me what i wanted?

i got up from her lap, my legs shaky from my previous denial, my core still aching from the loss. i opened the closet, and picked up a box. i opened it, pulling out a large, black, 7inch strap-on.

i practically drooled at the thought of rhea ruining me with it.

i walked back over to her, she snatched it out of my hand, before pulling down her jeans, she put it on and looked at me.

she grabbed me by my hair, pushing me down between her legs. she pushed it against my lips, practically growling at me.

"suck it."

-

i cant finish this just take this i dont know if it's good or not so erm!

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x you #wwe rhea ripley #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley fanfiction #bro its not even done #its so bad #wtf

[vodika-vibes]

May I please get a Tech x Jedi!Reader with a glimpse before and after Order 66. Techs POV where after figuring out that the jedi are being hunted becomes worried. Im thinking White Clover and Pansy and maybe angst/fluff? :>

ps i love your work and i cant wait to read anything you make, youre amazing :3

A Promise Made

Summary: You and Tech, before Order 66 and after.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 2983

Warning: Angst, Reader survived Order 66 and has totally understandable trauma regarding that

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm still not sure if I'm writing Tech well, but I haven't got any complaints.

“Is there a reason you are laying on me?” Tech asks as he looks down at the Jedi sprawled across his lap, her gaze locked on the datapad in her hand.

“I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you, and this is the best way to keep you from accidentally ignoring me.” She replies lightly, “Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. I am just concerned that you might get hurt.” Tech answers easily.

“So be careful and you won’t hurt me.” 

He rolls his eyes expressively, though because she’s not looking at him, she doesn’t notice. “What are you working on, cyare?”

“Master Windu asked me to reverse engineer a Seppie weapon, and I’m starting to think that this weapon was designed by an actual child.” She says with a sigh as she drops her datapad and presses her forehead against his thigh.

Tech smiles at the back of her head, “Would you like me to take a look?”

At that she laughs and rolls over so that her head is resting on his lap and she’s looking up at him, “I know you have better things to do, Tech.”

He sets his own project to the side, and gently brushes her hair out of her face, “I do not mind putting it aside to help you.”

She reaches up and presses her hands against his, lightly rubbing her cheek against his gloved hand. “That’s because you’re amazing.” She praises, “But it’s okay, Tech. I can figure it out. I always do.”

Tech smiles at her adoringly.

When he was a cadet on Kamino, he believed that this kind of happiness was beyond him. He did not understand why his brothers, including his batchmates, were so laser focused on finding someone to spend their time with. He thought that it was little more than a distraction.

That was until he met her.

She had been brought to Kamino at the request of General Ti, and the first time Tech saw her, he didn’t think she was a Jedi. He thought she was a natborn who had been tasked with maintenance of the various vehicles stored on Kamino.

She was clever and quick witted, and while his twin claimed that she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, on account of the fact that she tended to have oil on her face and staining her hands, and she didn’t seem to care about things like appearance, Tech thought that she was stunning.

They developed a quick friendship, bonding over their mutual love of technology. 

Tech honestly had no idea that she was a Jedi at all, not until he saw her dressed up in Jedi robes rather than her normal grease covered jumpsuit, and talking to General Ti like it was her right.

The conversation that happened after that isn’t one that Tech is proud of. He had been hurt that she hid such an important part of her from him, and he lashed out. She was offended that he thought that she was hiding it, claiming that she never hid anything from anyone, and that it wasn’t her fault that he didn’t know that she was a jedi.

The disagreement turned into a full blown argument, and Tech didn’t talk to her for over two months. It took Hunter and Crosshair teaming up to make him see that he was being bull-headed and stubborn, and it was the encouragement of Wrecker that forced him to go to her and apologize.

At the time, he had been worried that she was going to hold a grudge, but she didn’t. Instead she just smiled and laughed, and told him that she forgave him, and then she showed him what she was working on.

Soon after that, Tech realized that he was thinking about her all the time. When he was in training, when he was reading, even when he was about to go to sleep; her smile, the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, the way she pushes her hand through her hair when she’s contemplating something complicated-

He found himself looking forward to spending time with her, even if they’re just working in the same room. 

It was Crosshair who pointed out the obvious, with a roll of his eyes as he flipped through a magazine. “You’re obviously in love with her, dumbass.” He drawled without looking up from the glossy pages of the blaster magazine that he got from somewhere, “It’s a perfect match, you’re both annoying little shits.”

Tech wanted to argue with him, partly because he feels the urge to argue with his twin about everything, but he found the words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, annoyingly, he was right.

Tech was in love.

He became awkward and nervous around her, babbling about random things that he learned, and through it all, she watched him with a small smile, and often asked questions about his latest hyperfixation.

And then, late one night, she kissed him.

A gentle press of her lips against his. It was innocent and chaste, and yet it sent fire through his veins. She didn’t say anything after the kiss, she just watched him and waited, seeming to understand that Tech would need a moment to process.

And then he kissed her, and suddenly he understood exactly why his brothers desire this so much.

“Tech?” He snaps back to the present at the worried call of his name, and he glances down at her face, “There you are. You were lightyears away.” She teases.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh? Nice things, I hope.”

He laughs, “I always think about you, cyare. You occupy my thoughts at all times.”

“Well, that sounds annoying.”

“Not at all,” Tech lightly guides her until she’s sitting up and he presses a series of light kisses to her cheek and across her jaw, “I find that it is the most enjoyable part of my day.”

“Well, you’re easy to please, aren’t you?” She teases as she leans into his affection.

“My brothers tell me that I am very hard to please, actually.”

“Well, they’re not me.” She turns her head and kisses him quickly, “So you know, you’re constantly in my thoughts too.”

Tech laughs softly and presses a series of light kisses across her face, “I am glad.”

She grins at him, and shifts to sit on his lap, her hands coming up to cup his face, “Tech, I…” She pauses, and her gaze flickers to the side, “I want you to know that I have to return to Coruscant for a couple of weeks. I would like it if you commed me?”

Tech has a feeling that that’s not what she was going to say, but he lets it go, “Of course I will. So much that you will get tired of me.”

She laughs, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You never know,” Tech kisses her one more time, “When do you leave?”

“Two days.”

“Well then, we had better spend that time together.”

It has been three weeks and four days since the day that the Clones turned on the Jedi. And somehow, you’re still alive. Which, in and of itself, is a damned miracle.

You press your hand over your side, a slow hiss of pain escaping your lips as you move the wrong way and the hole in your side twinges painfully.

When the clones marched on the workshop, you had been in the back, working on one of the protocol droids. You managed to escape while the older jedi tried to fend off the soldiers, but you still took a blaster bolt to the side.

Not to mention, you’re still reeling from the loss of your friends, your family. 

You push the pain into the force, and take a moment to tighten the bandages around your side, before you continue your trek. It’s not safe for you anywhere.

And as much as you want to comm Tech and beg him to come and help you…you know that you better not. Tech is a clone after all. And if he pulled a blaster on you, you’d probably just let him kill you, honestly.

No. It’s safer this way.

Though, the galaxy is a much lonelier place now.

Time passes quickly, when you’re on the run. And before you know it, 6 months have passed.

You’re…surviving as best you can, all things considered. You managed to find a medic who treated your blaster wound in exchange for some simple maintenance work, and you managed to earn employment on a cargo ship.

Though, really, you mostly just bounce from ship to ship, from planet to planet, as much as you can. You don’t stay in the same place for longer than a few weeks, fearing that the empire will find you.

You take comfort from the memory of your family, and from Tech. You cling to those memories, as they’re the only thing that keep you going. And sometimes, at night, you allow your mind to linger on Tech, on what could have been.

It’s easier now, though.

After six months, you no longer feel like the Empire is breathing down your neck, and for all you know, you’ve been reported dead. You don’t dare to look, fearing that if you look and you weren’t, then the Empire will start looking for you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you know that, but it’s an anxiety that you can’t seem to shake.

“Hey, Kid!” You jump as the ship captain, your current employer, claps your shoulder with a heavy hand, “Me an’ the boys are going to the bar. Wanna join us?”

“Ah…no thank you. Trying to stay sober,” You say with an easy smile, “You guys have fun.”

“Right, sorry kid. I forgot. You keep up that sobrarity! We’re rooting for you.”

You smile at him, feeling momentarily guilty. Your story, the one that you’ve been using since the purge, is that you’re a recovering alcoholic, and that’s why you want to work on ships, to avoid temptation.

It’s not true. But it keeps people from hounding you to go drinking with them. And, more than one of the people you’ve worked with over the past few months have bemoaned your “parents” for not helping you with your addictions.

It’s almost like having a family again.

Almost.

You step off the cramped ship into the cool evening air, wanting to stretch your legs for a bit, when you hear a familiar voice and feel a familiar presence in the force.

“Hey, that person might know!” You’d recognize Wrecker’s force presence even if you were doped up on force suppressors, and the child standing next to him has the same overall feel as all of the chones.

Your blood runs cold. Wrecker will recognize you. How could he not?

He approaches you, and your mind goes blank. Your fingers twitch towards your lightsaber, hidden in your sleeve. You don’t want to hurt Wrecker. But you will if you have to.

“Excuse me, miss?” The child stops in front of you, and you look down at her. Blonde hair, wide brown eyes…she’s a clone, no doubt about it. “Me and my brother are looking for a specific shop-”

“I…I’m sorry, I’ve never been here before.” You keep your voice low, in the hopes that Wrecker won’t hear you. But you know there’s not a chance of it, not with how close he is to you.

Surprise flashes across his face, followed by joy, “It’s you! Tech has been worried sick! We all have-” He takes a step towards you, and you scramble backwards, grabbing your saber and lighting it with the comforting snap.

“Stop! Just…just stop.” You sputter, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

Wrecker stops, “Right. Okay.” He pulls Omega back, “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Sure.”

Wrecker slowly sends a message to his brothers, and then holds his hands out, showing that he’s unarmed. 

Tech, Hunter, and Echo run up only moments later, and Hunter has to grab Tech from running over to you.

“It is just us, cyare.” Tech says, pulling himself away from Hunter, “We are not going to hurt you.”

Your lightsaber is crossed across your body defensively, and slowly you reach out to the force, looking for the, arguably, most dangerous member of the CF99 at the moment. “Where’s Crosshair?” You ask.

“He is…not here.” Tech says quietly.

“You expect me to believe that your own twin isn’t here, I’m not that dumb, Tech.”

“He…” Tech falters, “Listen, his chip activated, ours didn’t. So when we defected, he didn’t.”

“What chips? What are you talking about?” You demand, and their faces fall.

“You…don’t know.” Hunter says quietly, “Stars, you must have thought we turned on you for no reason-”

“It would be nice to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be slaughtered down to the smallest baby, yes.” You bite out.

“It wasn’t…there…” Echo trails off and he takes a deep breath, “Tech, you need to talk to her. Just, tell her the truth. All of it. She’s a jedi, she’ll know if you’re lying.”

Tech nods, and he steps in front of his brothers, his gaze locked on you, “I am going to tell you everything that I know,” He says quietly, and then he starts talking.

And slowly, as he explains, you lower your saber and then turn it off. And by the time Tech finishes his story, you’re sitting on a small crate with your face in your hands. “My people were slaughtered by your brothers because Palpatine stole their free will from them?”

“Yes.”

Both of your hands fist in your hair, “...’m sorry for drawing my saber on you.” 

Tension drains from the men standing across from you, and the next thing you know, Tech’s hands are on your shoulders, “It is okay. You had every right to be concerned.” He kneels in front of you, “Are you injured?”

“I was shot at the temple, but that was months ago.” You say quietly.

“And…you are alright?”

“No.” You whisper, “It’s a very lonely galaxy, Tech.”

Tech raises himself enough to press a kiss to your forehead, “You do not have to be alone. You can travel with us. Right, Hunter?”

“Of course.” Hunter replies immediately.

“See.”

“That’s kind of you, but I know your ship isn’t that big.”

“With the both of us, we can retrofit.” Tech offers, “We can make room for all of us.” He takes your hands in his, “Please do not leave.”

“You won’t be safe if I travel with you. I’m a Jedi.”

“We are not safe anyway.” Tech points out, “Please, cyare? I promise that we will be safer together.”

You sigh, and very gently squeeze his hands, “Yeah, okay. The crew that I’m a part of now won’t be surprised if I decide to leave without warning.”

“Truely?”

“I have something of a reputation.” You reply dryly.

“...it has been 6 months.” You shrug, and allow Tech to tug you to your feet, before he wraps you in a tight hug. “I feared you were dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tech’s gaze lingers on her as she dozes in his bunk, his fingers are tangled in her hair as he silently offers her comfort.

She doesn’t look healthy.

She’s too thin, her clothes hang off of her, and the circles under her eyes are dark enough that it looks like she has bruises around her eyes. She hasn’t been eating properly, obviously, and Tech wonders if it’s because of grief or fear.

And there’s no way he’s ever going to forget the look in her eyes when she saw them again. Dread, fear, terror-

He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

Tech smooths his hand down her spine, and carefully adjusts the blanket so it’s tucked under her chin.

He knew the moment that the regs turned on General Billaba, that his cyare was in danger. The dread had been like a lead weight in his stomach. And while he would have spoken to Crosshair about it, he could tell that there was something wrong with his twin.

Not to mention, Crosshair had never been her biggest fan in the first place.

So he bit his tongue, and kept an eye on the list of deceased Jedi, and he hoped. 

It wasn’t very logical.

But the longer he didn’t see her name, the longer he had hope that she was still alive.

She shifts in his bed, rolling over to press her face against his thigh, and Tech presses his hand against the back of her head. The Marauder really isn’t big enough to add another adult, so she’s going to have to share with him for the time being.

Which isn’t half as much of a problem as he’s making it out to be, nothing would make him happier than waking up with her in his arms, but the last thing he wants is for her to forget where she is and freak out.

Luckily, the dread he felt when he heard about the jedi being hunted has faded into something much easier to handle, now he just has the sinking dread of having to help her deal with the trauma of surviving a massacre.

Easy.

Tech glances down at his datapad, and settles back against his pillow as he starts to read on how to help people process trauma.

If he can’t get his cyare to a mind healer, then he’ll just have to become one himself.

Tech glances at her one more time as her fingers curl in the soft material of his pajama bottoms, and he smiles at her sleeping face. He gently brushes some hair out of her face, “I promise,” He whispers, “I am going to take care of you.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

#love is real #autistic #tingleverse

[wordsbyrian]

Comeback Day - Alexia x Reader

Summary: This is the fic that I said I would write instead of the angst because Alexia made her return to the field.

A/N: Honestly, I'm just glad I finished this.

Today is the day.

10 months ago, 303 days to be exact, your girlfriend tore her ACL and was forced to stop playing football while she recovered. And today, she would be making her return to the pitch.

Even though she isn’t starting, everyone knows it will come eventually. And there’s no better day for it to come than today.

The day when your team could clinch the league title for the 4th straight year. At home in front of a sold-out Johan.

It will be perfect.

The only thing that would make it more perfect is if you were able to be on the field with her. And while you would technically be available off the bench, you and Jonatan had agreed that after being on the wrong end of a few hard tackles during the Chelsea game, it was better if you were only used in case of an emergency today.

So it’s the bench at El Johan for you, alongside your other teammates who would be sitting the majority of this one out.

Unfortunately for them, this means that they have to sit and deal with all the energy rolling off you in huge waves.

And Aitana in particular isn’t handling it very well.

“For the love of god,” she practically shouts, using her hand to stop your shaking leg, “Will you cut it out?”

“I can’t help it,” you whine, your right leg immediately picking up where the left one left off.

“How do you even have so much energy,” Irene asks, sending the midfielder a glare. “And even though Aitana was being mean, I really need you to stop with the leg.”

“I almost always have this much energy on the bench,” you tell them, “Besides I didn’t really warm up today because Coach told me not to bother.”

“It’s true,” Asisat says from in front of you all, “You guys just never notice because all 3 of you are rarely on the bench at the same time. Normally, I’d tell you that she’ll calm down eventually but she probably won’t.”

Asisat’s words catch the attention of your girlfriend who had been having her own conversation with Mapi.

“Estas bien cariño,” she asks, turning to face you, eyes softening slightly from the focus she always gets when near the pitch.

“Si, Ale, estoy bien.”

You can tell she doesn’t believe you but there isn’t time for her to question you on your half-truth because El Cant begins to play as the starting lineups make their way onto the pitch.

Luckily, your extra nerves all but disappear once the game gets underway. You’re left with your normal ones though, the ones you have from being a control freak in a way that has to be genetic.

That being said, you spend most of the game on the edge of your seat.

In the 10th minute, when Bruna collides with Huelva’s goalkeeper, Mersnik, clutching her head, you’re the first to your feet, wringing your hands when the ref doesn’t immediately stop play. You only start breathing again when your young teammate is back on her feet.

You laugh at the look on Jana’s face when she gets her yellow in the 33rd.

Then when Laia smashes one into the net in the 39th, you spring to your feet so fast you almost launch yourself into Mapi, who took a moment to realize that the ball had even crossed the line.

By the time halftime comes you’re mostly calmed down, although now all your energy is being put into ruffling Laia’s hair as you make your way back to the locker room.

“Lia,” you tell her, not releasing the headlock you have her in, “If you keep that up Jona is gonna make you play up front with me.”

“I don’t want that,” Laia says, trying to escape your grasp.

“I can see it now, me, you, and Caro, running up top. Of course, you’d be the CF in this scenario but I think it’d be an easy switch for you.”

“Noooooooo.”

“Siiiiiiiiii.”

The two of you continue in this manner as you make your way down the hallway, your teammates laughing as they pass by tapping Laia on the shoulder.

Inside the locker room, the first 5 minutes are spent discussing what you saw as a team and how those on the field could take advantage of Huelva's mistakes. You spend the next 5 with Salma and Bruna advising them on how they can better expose Huelva’s backline, especially Carolina and Romero.

At the 10-minute mark, Jonatan comes in and gives a tactics talk. It’s largely a repeat of what he said at the start of the game but you know it’s important for the younger players to be reminded of the game plan, lest they lose sight of the goal. 

So you hang back with Mapi, whispering jokes until both Jona and Alexia send you glares immediately shutting you up.

When the break is over, you hang back hoping to be able to speak with Alexia who has a habit of being the last one out.

It works.

“Alexia,” you say, grabbing her by the hand when she doesn’t immediately turn to face you. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Right now,” she asks, confusion obvious on her face. “We have to go back out.”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“Take a deep breath,” you tell her.

“Que?”

“A deep breath, mi amor, I need you to take one before you make your head explode.”

Your girlfriend continues to stare at you skeptically but eventually, she does what you ask, taking a shaky breath, holding it, and then letting it out.

Then she does it again, surprising you when she grips your hand tightly, releasing it in time with her breath.

“Better, right,” you say, not asking her. When you get a nod in response, you lean forward pressing a kiss to her hairline, and speak again. “T’estimo, you can do this. Now, let’s go, I’m pretty sure we’ve got a trophy to win, Capitana.”

You punctuate your words with another kiss on her forehead before taking a step away from her and beginning to make your way out of the locker room.

“Hey,” she calls after you, continuing when you stop, “I love you too.”

Once the two of you make it back out to the bench you get a glare from multiple members of the training staff, and some teasing from your teammates who immediately quiet down when you both send them glares of your own.

The second half of the game is very similar to the first in that your team continues to control the pace of the game.

Then in the 63rd minute, you watch as Ingrid sends in a square pass over to Jana who takes one touch before shooting on goal. And it’s a powerful shot too, one that rockets into the upper right corner and past the keeper.

Seeing this, you shoot to your feet so fast that you nearly fall directly into Mapi again. Only this time you’re stopped because Irene manages to grab you by the back of your shirt.

The most entertaining part of the half is easily the way the crowd cheers anytime Alexia moves to warm up.

They only get louder when she begins receiving tactical instruction from a member of the staff.

Then when the time finally comes, when the fourth official holds up her sign in the 74th minute indicating that #6 Pina will leave the field so that #11 Putellas can come on. Well, it gets so loud that for a moment you think you’re in Camp Nou instead of El Johan.

It’s amazing.

The final 16 minutes of the game are some of the best you’ve ever seen while sitting on the bench, though that might be the bias from being able to see the woman you love return to doing what she loves.

The goal by Asisat in the 89th is just the icing on the cake.

When the final whistle blows, the stadium explodes with noise again, and you and the rest of your teammates rush to join the 11 on the pitch.

The thing about winning your fourth straight league title is that it feels just as good as winning the first one. In fact, it probably feels better than winning the first one.

And just like with every post-game celebration, it all seems to be a blur.

You remember Alexia carrying the trophy onto the field.

You definitely remember her singing, never thought you'd see that outside of her apartment much less in front of a sold-out Johan.

Then there was Mapi walking off with someone’s son under her arm and Pina forcing you to carry her piggyback style up and down the field in front of the fans.

It isn’t until you’re at team dinner that the adrenaline begins to wear off, for you at least.

The rest of your teammates, especially the younger ones, however, are still pretty hyped up.

It makes you feel a little bad for the wait staff since they have to deal with a bunch of rowdy footballers.

Currently, you’re sitting next to Alexia, her hand on your thigh, while you listen to Bruna and Jana tell you some very complicated story about what they did on your most recent day off.

“Then the guy tries to claim that he can get us into the VIP section, so we follow him over there, wanting to see him embarrass himself,” Bruna says, pausing so Jana can continue the story.

“Yea, so we follow him over,” Jana repeats, gesturing wildly. “And guess who we see sitting there looking like the life of the party? None other than Pina and Patri.”

“And Patri’s girlfriend and her friends.”

“Yea! So we get to the ropes and Pina looks up and starts freaking out. Meanwhile, he’s trying and failing to convince the security dude to let him in.”

“Then Pin comes rushing over,” Bruna cuts back in, “Still freaking out and she ushers us in, leaving him standing there mouth gaping.”

You’re sure the look on your face is comical as you sit there stunned.

After a few seconds, you manage to get it together enough to ask, “Did he think you two were sisters?”

Now it’s their turn to pause for a moment but eventually, both nod making you burst out in laughter.

“Why are you laughing so hard,” Bruna asks, making you laugh impossibly harder, gaining the attention of a few of those around you. “It’s not that funny!”

By the time you stop laughing the whole team is staring at you.

Alexia has taken her hand off your thigh and placid it on your back, you having hunched yourself over in the process.

Trying to catch your breath, you can hear Mapi asking who broke you from one side of the table and Paños making a smart-ass comment on the other.

“Y/N asked if a guy at the club thought Bruna and I were sisters and when we said yes, she just started laughing,” Jana says.

A couple of your teammates laugh at the explanation, mostly the older ones. The younger ones are too busy being confused. 

“Ah, pobrecitas,” your girlfriend says, “he was trying to get both of you to sleep with him.”

Hearing Alexia say it plainly like that sets you off again.

Unfortunately, Jana and Bruna don’t find it as funny as you do and they both sit there with horrified expressions that make you place your forehead back onto the table.

Your bout of laughter is cut short when you hear Ale speaking again.

“Ignore this bufona,” she says, “It’s happened to me and Alba more than a couple of times.”

“What?”

You don’t get an answer.

Later that night, after dinner, and once you and Alexia have returned to your apartment and have gotten ready for bed, you feel completely relaxed for the first time in days.

So relaxed, that when Alexia crawls into bed beside you, you immediately roll into her side and bury your face in the crook of her neck.

Just as you begin to drift off, the process being sped up by the feeling of Ale’s fingers running up and down your spine, you hear her whisper your name.

“Y/N/N, amor, are you awake?”

“Que pasa,” you ask, speaking directly into her neck.

“Thank you. For earlier. I really needed it.”

Her voice is soft like she doesn’t want to admit that she was nervous earlier, so you sit up to look her in the eyes.

“Hey,” you say, “Me and you, this is forever. So, I’m always going to do whatever I can to have your back. Besides, I might have needed that moment a little more than you did.”

“Well, you’re always a bit anxious in general.”

“I think I controlled it pretty well today.”

“You didn’t,” Alexia says, pulling you back down. “Aitana almost killed you but everything turned out fine.”

“Well, I wanted everything to go perfectly for you, mi reina, so I couldn’t help but be nervous.”

Now that your face is back to being in its preferred nighttime hiding place, you can feel the way her neck immediately heats up.

“It was perfect, best day ever,” she says, kissing your head much like you did to her earlier.

You just hum in response and a moment later you feel her fingers resume their path trailing up and down your back, lulling you to sleep.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine

[arsonkoobi]

taekooker to jikooker: my personal experience.

this is merely how i felt and all the things i saw while being a hardcore taekooker for almost a year and a half. if you get offended, im sorry but the unfollow and block button is right there, i dont mind. i love taekook themselves, but i can no longer look at them in the way i used to. now they genuinely look like best friends to me. people change, and their perceptions and views on different aspects of life change. thats what happened to me.

I first joined this fandom 5 years ago in mid january 2018 through my friends. taehyung was my first ever bias, so most of the bts related yt recs i had were mostly of taehyung and ot7, and occasional ship videos among which taekook was the most prominent. me being a curious lil unsuspecting lamb, clicked on one, it also helped that my friends were taekookers as well so i dived pretty deep into the rabbit hole of taekook. im gonna be writing my thoughts and experiences on shipping taekook at different times of the year. i dont remember every single detail clearly (like this was 5 years ago) so forgive me if i sound vague at times plus this will only be a summary. without further ado, lets start, shall we?

february-march, 2018

by this time, i already watched quite a few taekook analysis videos, i also came across a few tkk_lives' videos(i think i came across her vids like much later but i just included it here) as well as other deluded channels. i fell even deeper into the rabbit hole. i thought taekook were the epitome of boyfriends silly in love, i felt like they had the best chemistry and that they were the ones whose ship actually made sense. i feel so embarrassed to admit this but one of my rather major reasons for shipping them was how good they looked tgthr🤦‍♀️(im a changed person now i promise). now i realise many tkk analysis channels tend to heavily edit things to make it look like theres something going on, overanalysing things to no end, it made me see them as if they were closer than they actually are, and as if theyre hiding something, but it was really just heavy and clever editing that forces your mind to get convinced. it was quite literally manipulative. plus back then, i was rather immature and hadnt even been in a rltnshp yet, so i blindly believed whatever they said. i believed every narrative and every theory they put out even if i knew lots of them didnt even make sense. they constantly also put out the jealous jungkook/taehyung whenever the other breathes next to another member..as i now realise, thats one of the biggest toxic traits a person can have. they were always pushing tkk as a toxic relationship without even knowing it(or just ignoring it). i also do not like jikook analysis vids where they are portrayed as the same territorial mfs who cant stand the other interacting with anyone else but himself. bc thats literally pushing their relationship as a toxic one and making them look toxic, and i would rather not do that.

march/april-september, 2018

i only watched taekook vids and funny bts moments for a long while as a baby army. i didnt watch official content very much, i ddint even know how to watch official content..i didnt know bangtantv existed yet💀 this tkk analysis watching continued for around 4 or so months after i became an army before i took an unintentional break from them(analysis vids) and i went on twitter. twitter, was so much worse(as i now realise). i didnt have an account at that time and learnt to browse on twt without one(it doesnt really let you do that anymore). at first, i found nothing weird or unusual and i enjoyed lurking on twitter, but slowly i started to see the ugly side of the community. i found multiple accounts directly or indirectly hating on jimin. i was weirded out. very weirded out. i was quite conflicted but..i only thought of it as jimin haters who were coincidentally tkkrs, maybe i refused to see tkk shippers in a bad light? probably, unfortunately i cant remember much and as i said, i was immature.

october-december, 2018

i stumbled across gcf in tokyo somewhere in october, i think it was in a fanwar on twitter and a jkkr said "at least we have this" or sumn along that line and put a link to gcft . idek how i didnt see it earlier. immediately after watching it, i felt..weird, conflicted, insecure. insecure about my ship. it seemed so romantic to me even then. but ofc i didnt let myself give up immediately, and i searched interviews + info about it, i found tkkrs saying vminkook were supposed to go tgthr and jikook only went bc they had a few days off and tae didnt. that gave me a lil bit of security and i held onto that thread of security and refused to believe or even hear out the actual fact(which i will come to later). as you can see, i was a stubborn mf. inside i knew that even if tae not having time off was the "only" reason behind jikook's japan trip, it was still unusual and suspicious to go on a trip with only your "bro" when said "bro" has told you and the world multiple times that they wanna go on a trip alone with you, when the hotel room you're staying at with your "bro" has a see-through glass wall for the bathroom and when you make a whole love confession in the guise of a travel log for your "bro" while your boyfie is waiting for you at home.

in conclusion, i was very insecure.

did i give up? no, not yet. we're getting there.

so as a masochist and out of curiosity caused by insecurity, i searched up jikook videos on yt, thinking "there's no way they could ever have more chemistry than taekook 🙄" - when i tell you i was wrong as fuck, i mean it. i was HUMBLED. the chemistry and tension between jungkook and jimin was undeniable. i felt uncomfortable watching some certain moments, felt things that i didnt feel while shipping taekook, saw things i didnt see in taekook.

i was confused plus the sinking feeling you get when you've been too loud about what you think and your opinions but then it turns out you were a stupid ass bitch.

there was a plethora of jikook vids, and i think my first jikook video was from Made in Busan, ig it was the "serendipity" analysis? back then it made lots of sense to me, but now it looks slightly overanalyzed (i still believe "serendipity" is very much connected to jikook tho). i slowly got more introduced to jikook in general. this mainly occured in like the first week of october and december as i had my boards in november.

december/january-february, 2019

so its been more or less of a year since ive become a tkkr, gcft is still in the back of my head screaming at me. and then jikook drop another bomb. that is, 2018 MMA.

this..was just, just..i cant explain it in words. jungkook had every bit of his attention directed towards jimin, they were giving each other loving glances, jimin giving jungkook a flying kiss, jungkook giving jimin a finger heart, jungkook subconsciously massaging jimins nape..it was just so domestic and coupley. i've never third wheeled so bad in my life. i felt like i was interrupting something by watching them. imagine how hyunjae next to them felt😔✊not to mention how it very much looked like jungkook was saying "남편"[ nampyeon] meaning "husband" and "형의 남친"[ hyung-ui namchin ] meaning " hyung's boyfriend" in their conversation after jimin pointed to himself and jungkook (forgive me if the spellings/romanizations are not accurate enough, im not fully fluent in korean). plus, after jungkook said it, jimin smiles and shyly looks down..LIKE??

watch from 31:00 to see for yourself. im not kidding.(p.s i love this video so much)

i was bamboozled. i was shocked. i was frustrated. i was feeling stupid. i was begging for taekook to drop something mindblowing or sumn that would regain my secuity in the ship and i found some moments during other award shows but, it didnt feel the same. to me it was really looking like taekook had boundaries and limits between each other, the limits that apply when you're good friends. but with jikook, i couldnt see how their gazes towards each other could be passed off as anything platonic, how their actions+body language could ever be seen as platonic.

so what did i do? did i give up? oh hell no im stubborn as fuck. but we're getting there.

i ignored every jikook moment and brought my focus back on taekook, i started watching analysis and moments again. in a span of a few weeks, the security around my ship had improved after pretending that i didnt feel like a stupid mf after MMA 2018. haha. it sorta worked lol. sorta.

march-may, 2019

these were my last months as a taekooker.

after all that shit, all i wanted was more taekook moments to make me feel better about myself. and i did get quite a few. however, as i said before, they looked like they had boundaries. i couldnt look at them exactly the same.

i was busy in april with my class tests, i doubt i had much time to catch up with the boys. so when the tests ended, it was most likely in the last week of april or the first few days of may.

we all know what happened in the first few days of may, don't we? in case you don't, this is what happened.

surprisingly, i clearly remember the first time i got to know about it.

it was in class, i just arrived and then one of my friends and i start talking and she goes [this convo is all translated from bengali]

"hey did you see what jungkook did at the latest concert?"

"no, i didn’t, what did he do?"

"he went and literally sucked on jimins ear!"

i was shocked once again, my eyes went wide, my heart did a backflip..all that shit. i didnt believe it at first.

"don't joke around like that, you're being absurd" i said.

"im not kidding bro, he sucked jimins ear in the rosebowl concert last week, ill send you a link too"

when i got back home, sure enough, the link was there and i saw jungkooks ear nibbling in all its glory, albeit a bit low quality. but no doubt he took that ear into his mouth and i knew it.

surely i must've given up now? no, but im this🤏 close we're almost there i promise

i went online and found lots of tkkrs denying that jungkook ever took jimin's ear into his mouth and that jimin's ear only got caught on jk's chin. but..if it got caught on jk's chin then that means his chin was behind jimin's ear, and his lips must have been at least kissing jimin's ear, given that we couldnt see them very well. the lip we could see was the upper lip, which again lead me to be believe that jungkook did indeed, suck jimin's ear.

yeah, my faith in tkk was crumbling into millions of pieces. because i couldnt see how jungkook, being in a supposed relationship with taehyung, could do that with tae's best friend. i sure as hell wouldnt let my partner get away with that, nor would i ever do that myself with someone else other than my partner. even if its to comfort them. it just goes way over platonic boundaries.

i was seriously considering shifting over to jikook by now. but before that, i searched lots of shit up abt jikook.

there i saw an interview where jimin talked about the tokyo trip with jungkook. what i believed until now was that vminkook were supposed to go tgthr but jikook were the ones with time off, and tae didnt have time off. jimin said he told taehyung and jungkook that he wants to go on a trip to Japan. he didnt say he wanted to go on a trip WITH taehyung and jungkook. yall, ive told my wishes to go to japan and turkey multiple times to my friends, does that mean im taking their asses with me? no. mind you, jimin has said he wanted to go on a trip alone with jungkook multiple times in their rookie era. on jimin's bday of 2017, jungkook tweeted a pic of him(jimin) with the caption "Its not over yet.." and shortly after, we find out jikook went on a tokyo trip by THEMSELVES with no staff, no managers and no other members. dropped off at the airport by jungkook's dad and brother and jimin's dad. jungkook paid for everything and put a hell lot of time into making the masterpiece that is gcf in tokyo WITH a bgm of a gay fucking song by a queer fucking artist and showed the fucking rainbow colored ferris wheel at the line "love is a road that goes both ways".

also

its clear who the main model of gcf is.

you can deny the trip being only for jikook, but you can not deny the symbolism and significance shown in gcf in tokyo. saying "jungkook didnt understand the song, hes not fluent in english" - is so small minded and belittling.

saying he didnt show jimin on the parts "boy, im holding onto something, wont let go of you for nothing, im running, running just to keep my hands on you" on purpose is not only straight up denial but also understimating jungkook's intelligence and artistic capabilities, saying that jungkook isnt smart enough to get the meaning behind these words. and just because hes korean. thats fucking racist if you ask me.

then i discovered the iconic osaka vlives, i was convinced. it was my last straw along with rosebowl.

alas, after around a week of denial, i gave up and became a jikooker in mid may of 2019. ive never looked back. over the years they've only given us more and more evidence and i doubt my beliefs will ever change soon.

i hope this was kinda fun to read, i had been planning to do this for a long time. im glad i finally got to say my thoughts out here. thank you for taking the time to read this<3

#Youtube #bts #kpop #kpop icons #kpop layouts #jungkook #jimin #bts layouts #jjk #jikook kookmin #jikook #kookmin #mingguk #mingukkie #minkook #toxic taekookers #taekooker to jikooker #jikook headers #jikook icons #jimin and jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #park jimin #jimin bts #bts jimin #jimin gcf #gcf in tokyo #jikook is real #jikook is real go cry abt it

[acotarfrustrations]

An ongoing list of ACOWAR grievances I'm keeping track of while I read (because there's too many to make a post about all of them) pt. 2

I'm on chapter 15 now and feeling the urge to complain again so here we go

1) the writing is way too overdramaticized. Like every other paragraph is some remixed version of feyre going "I wondered whether it would be eggs or bacon for breakfast. But when I looked at Rhys I realized that he was giving me my own choice. My mate, my high lord. In our home. With our family. Every thing was always my choice" and its CONSTANT, LIKE OH MY GOD GIRL SHUT UP

2) every thing about Lucien's plotlineand the elain mating thing. I HATE this subplot with a PASSION

3) feyre immediately fucking rhys when she got back instead of going to see her sisters

4) feyre and rhysand acting like they've ben separated for forty centuries instead of a month

5) the contradictions about how the high lord thing works. Like it was established that its a government position given to you through basically fate and being chosen by the cauldron or whatever which is why siblings kill each other for a chance for the throne and yet they just went to a priestess and swore feyre in as high lady?? It makes her title not feel real like it's purely ceremonial. It doesn't even make sense that she would be able to be HL of the night court as she has no more ties to that court than she does any other court. Is it because she's mated to Rhys? I don't understand the HL lord at all, it just keeps changing

6) the fact that Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian tell Lucien about their tragic backstories and everything that's happened to feyre at the NC and he just immediately does a Feyre™️. Like he's suddenly "Oh yeah you had a horrible childhood and took feyre into your found family without letting her explore relationships outside of the IC, that totally makes up for all the evil shit THAT IVE SEEN YOU DO WITH MY OWN 2 EYES. wow i cant believe youre not evil even though you killed 50 winter court children and sexually assaulted your mate and mind raped her constantly to get her to like you"

7) the way they're treating Nesta. It has been a MONTH since she was stolen from her home, brought amongst a race that she is terrified of and THAT ENSLAVED HER PEOPLE, and was forcefully turned into ONE OF THEM and the IC is acting like she's being unreasonable for not wanting to talk to them or to mate with Cassian. WHY THE HELL WOULD SHE EVEN BE THINKING ABOUT CASSIAN RIGHT NOW?? WHY THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL BAD FOR HIM? Instead of him worrying about how his mate is doing regardless of his own comfort he's like WOE IS ME, SHE DOESNT WANT TO FUCK ME?????? GET OVER IT ASSHOLE?? WHY IS FEYRE EVEN LETTING CASSIAN COME NEAR HER AND ANTAGONIZE HER?? DOESNT SHE LOVE TO FLAUNT HER HL STATUS AROUND?? THIS IS THE TIME TO USE IT, PROTECT YOUR GODDAMN SISTER FROM HIM? ITS SO OBVIOUS THAT SHE DOESNT GIVE NEARLY AS MUCH OF A SHIT ABOUT NESTA AS SHE DOES ELAIN!!

8) the fact that sjm didn't keep cassian's wings shredded. Him learning to live with that would have been a badass character development but now sjm doesn't want me to have good things

9) the mating bond in general. I think it could be a potentially good plot device but no one ever employs it well and sjm is definitely the most egregious with it

10) the fact that the ic never gave consequences for their fucking actions. Feyre dies in acotar? Turn her into a fey and give her ALL of their powers. Stealing a precious artifact that they didn't even end up needing and getting a bounty on their head in the summer court and then getting that court invaded? That's fine because feyre is SOOO brave and says things that are common fucking sense which makes her SOOOO smart so we obviously need her as an ally so we'll just rescind the blood rubies. Getting the spring court sacked? That's fine we didn't like them anyway. Rhys and feyre's bond gets snapped? Well they didn't know about our super secret mating bond that is actually the only thing that gives our characters chemistry so we still like each other. Rhys causes irreparable damage to every court for 50 years and kills 50 kids? Well that's fine he was being held hostage and hey! We don't know he actually killed those kids 😡 Feyre, a 20 year old girl who's been fae for like 6 months and training for even less goes up against thousands of years old beings? She beats them effortlesslessly! Rhys gets sexually assaulted for 50 years! Well he planned all of it so it has no negative consequences on him. Cassian gets his wings shredded? Well he worked really hard and they're fixed now 🥰. Rhys FUCKING DIES?? Well that's no problem, tamlin can just resurrect him, nvm the fact that there's no reason why he WOULD. like no harrowing situation is ever interesting cause we all know sjm isn't actually going to do anything to the ic

11) "my mate" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING

12) "males and females" STOP SAYING IT PLS IM BEGGING pt. 2

#anti acowar #anti sjm #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti sarah j maas #anti ic #anti acomaf #anti inner circle

[spookykoolkat]

the red j.m. | chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR: NO GOOD

series masterlist | main masterlist |

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: you've been in jackson for a month now and things are still a little rough. you haven't found the right crowd to fit into yet, and thought maybe you might have to settle for the family of four you already know, until you meet your patrol partner, tyler. unfortunately, joel doesn't seem to like the idea of you with any other man but him.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, slight jealous!joel, x-rated descriptions, crude language, perv!joel, creepy!joel, mean joel not too mean tho, MDNI!!!

wc: 6.2k

na: HI! thank you for alllll of the love oh my god my little gothic heart is so full i love you guys!!! i hope this series is everything and more to you guys bc i love this so much! hopefully as chapters go by, i get better in my writing and hope everyone enjoys it! i appreciate all of your kind words and interactions with me and making me feel welcome since i am new to writing on tumblr and kind of took a six year break from writing oneshots/fanfictions LOL. anyways please enjoy this chapter things are g3tting a little hot and heavy :P I CANT WAITT i hope that my writing is cathartic for my big girls we do not get enough representation for us in stories and writings!please enjoy! smut coming soon fr fr LMFAOO

i appreciate all reblogs, likes and comments feel free to do any one of those things or ALL! if u think its deserved :P

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

DECEMBER 21ST, 2024

YOU

you’ve been in jackson for a month now. you couldn’t believe it, you truly had every doubt about staying even a week. but, it’s probably the calmest life you’ve lived in a very long time. you enjoyed it and you truly felt you’d made the right decision, it didn’t take much convincing either. but, you still haven’t unpacked the items maria gave you and continues to give you. just in case. 

the neighbors are learning your name, as you are with them, and they actually care. as much as you let them. you felt quite bad because you found yourself still not clicking with anyone around you. and you’ve tried. the people your age find you boring, almost a dark cloud over them, bursting their bubbles. younger kids only approach you because of ellie, asking for advice on stance and grip. the older group, around tommy and joel’s age, finds you a bit much. 

your language, your lack of social awareness–sometimes it gets embarrassing. saying something old heads wouldn’t necessarily like, being too blunt and a little explicit. joel figured you should hang around your age group, yet you didn’t really click in with the rest. he was far from embarrassed being around you, you just said the things he was thinking out loud.

you only found yourself clicking with joel. in many ways, as much as he let you. he was standoffish most of the time, barely cracking a smile at your weird habits and the noises you make when you’re passed out on the couch. he refused to let you break him, this wall that he had up to survive. do not get attached. he thought, maybe the less he knew you the less it’d hurt to have anything happen to you. but it seems even as little as he does know you, he’s still feeling that tug at his heart laying his eyes on you. 

it was too late. whoops.

joel doesn’t want to address that feeling, and he doesn’t want to call it as it is. he actually cares about you. he had no choice but to call it that, because why else would he lie to you about finding cassettes in the house?— so that you didn’t know what he really did to get you whatever he could get his hands on. 

he didn’t want you to know that he actually smuggled in goods that he and his family needed, and while bribing, stealing, trading and selling for necessities, he made it a mission to find at least one cassette tape for you. he didn’t know you actually saw him red handed, and you still didn’t know where those boxes were coming from. he figured if you knew, you’d bring it up. 

he made it his mission for two whole weeks, after your first week of staying with him, and finally got his hands on some actual music for you. joel hadn’t made efforts like this in a long time, and he knew that denying the fact that he at least cared for you would mean he was being delusional. 

but he was always worried about you. you were his object of affection and he craved to find a way to get you out of his mind. he actually felt guilty for thinking about you in ways you’ve probably never been before, he felt guilty for wanting nothing but to make you feel good—however that was. 

you doubted it strongly of course, shaking the feeling off as your own delusion and insanity, but you always hoped. hoped that maybe his generosity and southern hospitality was actually him caring about you in a different way, but he was a grown man. you tried to off yourself in front of him–you were insane to think he’d even look at you as anything but a liability, he hardly looked your way as it was. 

at least you thought so.

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joel paid attention to every single thing he sees and hears. he doesn’t show it, he doesn’t acknowledge it—all he does is observe. some more than others. 

you didn’t talk to him unless he talked to you, you kept your distance like he wanted, but somehow he knew everything that was going on. he didn’t have to talk to you to know you, and that’s what he was ashamed of. he watched you. 

he was a creep, he felt like someone who was abnormal and making things weirder than they had to be. he was studying you and you didn’t even know. he picked up on what made you smile, which cassettes you listened to the most, which just so happened to be the ones he was ‘holding on to.’ and in the midst of observing you, he checked you out any time he got. 

when you weren’t looking mostly, but even sometimes when you were talking to him about something not so important. he realized that if you did see that his eyes wandered over you, you were probably gaslighting yourself into thinking he wasn’t doing exactly what you thought he was doing. he loved your body. and he loved the way you dressed your body, the way the shirts you wore always clung to your heavy breasts, how even when you dressed in baggy clothes he still wanted to ruin you like that. 

sick. you’re a sick old pervert, ya kno’ that? he knew. what joel didn’t know is why you made him feel this way, why you drove him to do the things that he does for you. why he acted feral every time you bent over, why he would storm out of the room when you got on your hands and knees to pick something you dropped up off the floor. 

but he also studied you because he wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling how you felt the night you woke up in jackson, to make sure you weren’t feeling depressed or like you didn’t want to be here anymore. just talk to her fucker. he couldn’t. he would never admit it, but he’s eavesdropped near ellie’s garage to hear conversations between the two girls. 

“ellie, i mean it, you cannot tell joel.” you hushed as you glanced towards the door, back to ellie. 

she scoffed. “like i’d tell him, lay it on me.” you noticed the irritation in her eyes when you brought up joel, asking yourself if maybe there was something that wasn’t being said. you just put a pin in it. 

“okay. one, i’m finally allowed a gun and i got my patrol route.” you cheered in a hush and joel almost pressed his ear into the door. 

ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the piece of paper. “no fucking fair. good looks, telling me bad news first. what’s two?” she joked. 

“i met my patrol partner. his name’s uh, tyler? i think. yeah,” you looked down and nodded, assuring yourself. joel made it a note to tell ellie how thin her walls were, not right now though. 

“tyler… tyler m?” joel thought of every man in this town named tyler with the letter M as his last name. instantly made a mental list of five tylers. 

“i don’t know. but he asked me for a drink. tonight, he was gonna meet me here but i told him i’d meet him there. lesson number 5, always have a way to leave anywhere you are if you need to.” you said. you figured it’d be best to teach her as much as you could, telling her things she needed to hear to survive. 

that’s how joel knew immediately what was happening when he heard your soft singing from your cracked door. you were getting ready for him. he actually hated it. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that heat in his chest, biting the tongue—it wasn’t until his face turned down into the old familiar feeling, what he recognized as jealousy. 

who was he to be jealous? for what? it was a saturday night, most people were off of work, and everyone was settling in the town’s circle to drink and watch movies. everyone but joel. he was now classified as a bitter old man, with a dark whiskey in his glass. maybe now a bitter, creepy old man as he knocks slightly on the cracked door and you invite him in. 

you were fixing the laces on your shoes, simple black converse, and his eyes made his way up from there to your face. a deep v neck shirt that looked like a second skin from how tight it was, and faded black jeans with tiny holes from being lived in that hugged the fat of your thighs. he never noticed the gold dainty necklace that sat in the middle of your chest, but it sits right between the curves of your breasts. were they always that big? he felt like a kid, ogling and asking stupid questions.  

“hellooo? joel?” you called to him as you rested your palms on the width of your thighs. he saw your lips, coated in a sheen and your hair split down the middle instead of being in a pony tail or bun. creepy old man. you’re being creepy joel!!! he shook his head. 

“headin’ to the circle?” he asked. if he were close enough you could smell the whiskey on his breath. 

“yeah i-,” you thought for a minute. joel didn’t trust the next person as much as you did. you saw his protectiveness through ellie, you felt maybe he’d feel the same for you. even if you were a bit delusional. 

“-was gonna catch a movie with ellie, most likely be back around 12.” you said as you glanced at the clock, 9:32. 

“‘s that right?” he said suggestively, like he knew something you didn’t. he did. 

“yeah. that’s right,” you stood firm, even shot him a dirty look. “why don’t you enjoy the night, joel. you got the house to yourself, ain’t that what you’ve been mopin’ around for?” you stood up and grabbed your gun to put in your waistband behind your shirt, sticking a knife in your high top converse and one in your jean pocket. 

maybe you got too defensive, but you were right in a way. he looked miserable around the house, storming in just to grab a beer and lock himself in the library or room. 

“that’s right,” he was just smug. so smug you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to slap him. 

“whatever joel,” you wanted to be right so bad. you wanted to prove to even yourself that you were right. but neither of you were buying into this act you played, and you knew it. he was making you nervous with his stare, the hard shell you had was practically ripped off of you when he grabbed your wrist before you left the room. he held you, shoulder to shoulder and looked at your face, down your neck and to your chest. 

“if you need anythin’, you let me know darlin’.” darlin’? it was so foreign to you, so alien that you didn’t even have time to process it before your mouth moved to say a small alright and taking your arm from his grip. when you did, it was cold and you could feel the print of his hand around your wrist down the stairs. 

it was so different, something that leaked off of his words when he spoke to you. and you wanted to hear more of it, explore that with him. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

before you could psych yourself out of going through the bar’s doors, you heard someone call for your name and turned your head to the left to see tyler, walking towards you with a big grin on his face. tyler was just two years older than you, someone you met while you were in combat and patrol classes, and didn’t acknowledge until he approached you, re-introducing himself as your partner for the first two weeks. you couldn’t be cold and shoo him away, you just smiled and introduced yourself, really looking at him. 

he was not joel miller. tyler’s skin wasn’t as tan as joel’s but he wasn’t pale, and he was actually a bit lanky even under the thick coats he layered. you noticed that his chest wasn’t as broad and strong as joel’s, hell his arms were smaller than yours. he was a skinny tall thing, while you were a bit short and thick everywhere. and when he embraced you lightly at the entrance of the bar, you just felt cold. no warmth, no comfort, you felt like you’d break him. 

“hey, i was hoping you’d actually come.” he breathed in as he pulled away, still, it wasn’t feeling right. 

“why wouldn’t i?” 

“cause you’re out of my league,” he said with a seductive smile and you wanted to believe him. wanted to enjoy the night as it comes and maybe have a few drinks, talk. but your mind was on a bitter man who sat in a house all by his lonesome. 

the thing about ‘dates’ now is that small talk doesn’t happen anymore. what’s your mom like? she’s dead actually. really? mine too! it was pointless. if you ended up here, you knew that you were alone. 

it wasn’t long before you and tyler were sitting on two stools, side by side. your knees were in between his as the two of you talked, flirted, gave simple touches. you were having fun. doing what would seem normal at a bar, just enjoying the company of someone who actually liked you. 

“how come you’ve never hung out with anyone else? i never see you with anyone.” he said, his fingers tapping on your knee. 

“mmm, i’m just not for everyone.” you flirted, covering his fingers with yours. you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, but you’d like to live in it just a little longer. the touch of a man, someone who desired you even if it wasn’t how you wanted. something you started to crave from joel. 

“maybe you’re just for me then?” he suggested, and you decided to just play into it. it was kind of hard not to when you were thinking of joel, you needed to act out on it. 

“i doubt that, honey,” you said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. he smelled like tequila and grass, something not that appealing but you ignore it. you wanted something out of him tonight, because for some reason the words joel spoke to you kept ringing in your ears. if you need anything, you let me know darlin’. the words rumbled through your body and straight to your core, because if there’s anything you need he could definitely be of help. 

you didn’t know how long you stayed at this bar, teasing and touching each other until you felt the ache in your core, aching for a touch that you’ve had once before. but you didn’t give a shit about purity or virginity, you wanted the ache gone and you knew tyler was the best bet. 

“tyler,” you whispered in his ear as the bar started to empty. 

“yes, beautiful?” he answered and slid his hand up your thigh. 

“show me how good you are with your fingers, yeah?” 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

he followed you back to joel’s, hand in hand as you turned the key to the house and softly opened the door to prevent the creaking. granted, you didn’t think this through, like everything else. maybe you should’ve gone to his. you cringed a bit, walking inside. 

it was dark inside, nothing but the sizzle of a freshly put out fire. you put your fingers to your lips to shush him, taking him slowly upstairs and to your room. you couldn’t help but find yourself glancing at joel’s door, which is cracked open. 

you finally made it to your room with the lanky man groping your body and trying to slither you out of your jeans, letting him. 

“only want your fingers, okay? if not you can leave.” you established as you stood in your panties and tight shirt. 

“fuck, yeah that’s okay,” tyler himself was craving a woman’s touch, he didn’t even care if he got off. he just wanted to see you, a woman’s body, to feel you. 

“can i touch you? like anywhere?” he asked as he sat on the edge of your bed, his cock already hardened against his pants. it didn’t sound right coming from him. you wondered what it’d sound like with the texas twang you craved to hear from a certain man. 

it still made your core twinge a bit, remembering the last time you were this vulnerable. you couldn’t lie, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you fell in to the odd touch of the man desperately trying to touch you. 

“anywhere. keep your dick in your pants, i’ll touch as i go if you want me to.” you moved over to him and crawled into your bed, and he slipped in next to you as he propped himself on his elbow to look at you. 

“you’re so pretty, really.” he said, genuinely and you smiled. your stomach even fluttered a bit. it’s been a long time hearing that, hearing desire. 

“touch me, please.” 

tyler took his time, a little more than you’d liked but he was busy distracted with the way your tits pushed up to your chin, like you were suffocating. touching and teasing, his touch felt good but it still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel heartstopping. maybe you’re expecting too much. 

but he didn’t talk to you when he dipped his hand in your panties, you just heard his whimpers and panting as he rutted his hard on into the side of your fat thigh, barely focused on you. you weren’t feeling it anymore, your wetness wasn’t even directed towards him really. everything you did with him was what you wanted to do with joel. you weren’t interested anymore and it started to feel wrong, it never felt good because tyler wasn’t worried about you. just his nut, and you didn’t like that. you didn’t like to feel used. 

“okay, wait, wait—i said wait!” you said and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from your panties and moving off of the bed. 

“wait, fuck i’m sorry, i was just so, fuck i’m so sorry.” he said a bit loudly, and you swore you heard a creak in the hallway as you moved to the door. 

“it’s okay, i just, i’m not–i’m tired. i think you should go.” you said, hugging your arm as he adjusted himself in his pants and got up. 

“i’m sorry, i,-” he tried again and you waved him off. 

“it’s done and forgotten, you didn’t do anything you were just really into it. i wasn’t.” you were careful with your words, not as tough as you would be because you’re vulnerable. but he wouldn’t get far if he hurt you, you knew that. 

“i’m sorry, goodnight. can we kind of like, forget this?” he asked rubbing the back of his neck and you softly laughed. 

“forget what?” you smiled and he returned it, giving a small kiss on the cheek before he left. he was a nice man, a good kid, and he meant no harm. he didn’t need a ruthless beating or yelling, just needed to tell him it wasn’t meant to be. you couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was, how wrong it felt being tyler touching you. 

you knew who you wanted to touch you. as sweet and kind and charming tyler was, he wasn’t what you wanted. the man you wanted was across the hall from you, on the other side of the stairs. sleeping, maybe. 

you knew ellie was at a friends house doing only god knows what, so with the hope in mind that joel was asleep in his room, you trotted downstairs braless, and bottomless. you were still in the same tight shirt you left in, but now just in the pink panties that were apart of the gifts maria got you. just new/traded clothing you needed. the shirt hugged you and cut off at the dip of your curve, the fat of your tummy slightly protruding between the shirt and your panties. 

you didn’t look towards the fireplace where the sofas were, instead you grab a small cup and let faucet water pour into it, taking a drink. 

“work up a sweat?” a deep southern voice said behind you, from a distance. you jumped at the sudden break of silence and turned quickly to the sofas. 

“joel? what the fuck,” you breathed and stepped out to walk to the sofas. somehow, you completely disregarded the fact that all you had on was a shirt and panties, standing in joel miller’s living room. 

“what made you think it was a bright idea to invite a bastard in my home like that? not only that,” he said. you finally saw the light from outside shining on his face as he stood up, something glimmering in his hand. a gun. “but letting him touch all over you? that prick?” 

you had a lot to say, a lot to yell out. but the only thing to say was a snarky comment. “you know he called you the same thing.” 

which, he did. but you were too drunk on the flirting and drinks to care or to know why, even though you already knew. joel wasn’t nice to anyone but ellie. tommy and maria even think he’s an asshole, but that’s tommy’s brother and maria’s brother in law. he’s family. but there were things that you didn’t know about joel miller. things he didn’t want you to know either. 

“why do you even care? who’s touching me, i mean.” you scoff, feeling less embarrassed about your state of clothing. but being a lot more aware as he steps closer and closer to your curvy figure, putting his gun in the waistband of his sweatpants. 

he was intimidating like this. towering over you with his fists clenched, searching your face for something. you felt your heartbeat pick up as his eyes raked over you and fell on your lips. he was drunk off of you, the sight of your fat cunt only being clothed by a single piece of fabric drove him to dig his nails in his palms. the nakedness of your thighs, and the midriff showing—it was going to kill him.

“if you’re gonna fuck these town folk, make sure it ain’t in my house.” he spit, and you just rolled your eyes. you felt like you were in trouble for sneaking out, like a teenager. 

“i didn’t fuck anyone. we didn’t do anything. he wanted to, i didn’t.” you defended, feeling small now but still holding yourself tall.

joel just looked at you, not wondering if you were lying or not. he knew you weren’t, he heard it himself the minute he heard something bang against your wall. it was just you shuffling to get up, and he heard you consoling him. you weren’t satisfied. 

“why’d you lie to me? bout’ seein’ him tonight?” he asked, your head tilted up to his as he steps one step closer. your chest is almost touch his, and your breathing was getting heavier. 

“figured you wouldn’t trust him,” you said, sounding like you wanted to say something else but keeping it to yourself. 

he was watching you like you were his prey. like you were something he wanted to take and devour for himself, like you were something for his eyes only. 

“smart girl,” 

“he touch you wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask, the curiosity killing him slowly as time passes with you standing in front of him with your tight pink panties on. he looked down between the two of you and saw the hardened pebbles that were your nipples showing up through your black tight shirt, down to your tummy that was pressed against his. he liked the softness of your belly, he was practically dying to grip it himself. he wanted to grip every part of you, to palm your pussy and feel how warm you were in his grip. he even found himself hating his own mind as thought of what your pussy would look like sucking him in. 

“i, he,” you were stuttering, embarrassing yourself as his hand trailed up your arm, thinking of all the ways he could watch you take his cock for him. 

you watched him watch you. how his eyes went dark again, how there was a slight touch of possessiveness in his voice. you didn’t assume though.

“can’t find the words, hm? he wasn’t makin’ you feel good?” he asked softly, watching as you closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth, opening again to see a small grin playing on his lips, his head tilted to the side. his fingers barely left your wrist, and made their way to your fleshy hip, tapping against the bare skin. he was enjoying this. making you squirm. making you nervous. 

“fuck off, joel,” you meant it to come out a lot stronger than it did, even you thought you sounded needy. “s’ none of your damn business,” you spit, stronger this time.

and before you could even wallow in your retorts, a smile tugged very faintly at his lips. you weren’t so convincing when you were practically trying to pull him to your body with your fists buried in his sweater. he appreciated the effort though, he's never met someone with as much bite in their bark as you.

he just liked to watch you writhe for him. you wanted to whine with how eager you were for him, how mean he was being to you for no reason. you needed him.

“it’s like you’re not even tryin’, what’s the matter? do i make you nervous sweetheart?” he gleamed in his power over you, the way your eyes searched for him and your mouth parted, just for him. he wanted to ruin you in every way. ruin every man for you, show you how to truly be taken care of.

"go fuck yourself," you retorted and he actually laughed. and he laughed at you. a sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you.

“i didn’t tell you but,” he paused as he leaned into your ear, grazing his cheek against yours and smiling to himself, “you looked real pretty today, ya know that? you look even prettier like this, all flustered for me.” 

you had to be dreaming. had to have gone to sleep after tyler left, and this was your wet dream making up for it. there was no way you were this exposed to joel and he was practically pressed up against your body as he told you how pretty you looked. you couldn’t speak, your tongue was tied and joel smiled to himself as he realized he got you to shut up.

“would ya let me touch you, sweet girl? maybe you'd be nicer if someone knew how to touch you,” he asked, his fingers playing on your hip. 

you still couldn’t answer. it felt like a trap, like if you let yourself give in to his words, every guard you put up was pointless. you were frozen, and suddenly felt insanely vulnerable but his voice was so inviting, so impossible to not fall into.

“touch me where?” you asked, treading lightly. you wanted to hear it, you wanted him to tell you he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. you wanted to prove to yourself that you hadn't lost your mind yet. but you also wanted to stretch whatever this was as long as possible before you find yourself on your knees for him without even asking.

joel felt like he was out of his body. like he was watching you squirm and move under his presence from above. he was so distracted by how hard your nipples were rubbing against him that he didn’t even notice your fists balled into his shirt, trying to take him in closer. maybe it was the alcohol he drank to ignore the jealousy he felt, or maybe it was the fact that tommy came to tell joel about the boy you were seeing. how the two of you were practically on top of each other before he left, how he was touching you in public–he was angry. 

nothing was done, nothing more than joel grabbing your almost bare hip and you tugging on his shirt, but it still felt like something that was crossing a line. a line you wanted to cross.

until he got the courage to grab the hand that was buried in his sweater, taking it in his own and touching you with your hand. he was answering your question. his hand ghosted on top of yours as his eyes watched your eyes train on the sight between the two of the bodies, enjoying how soft and pink you look. you were hot and bothered, and he could get used to seeing you like this. 

“first place i’d touch you, baby,” he breathes, his lips practically against your cheek now. he was breathing you in, drinking you in, “is right here,” 

his hand guided you to cup your mound, angry that it wasn’t his hand touching you. your breath was shaky while you watched him, your eyes flickering from his moving hand to his eyes, and every time he made sure your eyes latched onto his. he wanted you to know how much he was enjoying teasing you like this, he wanted you to remember the way he looked at you while you panted against him. 

“but like this, lemme show you ‘xactly how i’d touch you sweetheart,” he was lost, drunken only on you, ignoring the world around him. “don’t think that boy would be enough for a woman like you, ain’t that right?"

he took his own hand as you were still pressed against his front, his lips now teasing the skin of the crook of your neck and starting to pull your panties away from your skin to dip his hand inside. your breathing was uneven and your soft whimpers were getting louder the more he trailed down into your underwear, and he was loving them.

the second he felt the scruff of your unshaved mound, he heard you release a shaky, sexy breath, and he grew harder against your bare abdomen. even feeling the heat of your skin on his clothed cock made him want to get on his knees and worship you.

"needy little fuckin' thing, that desperate for me huh? you gonna let me feel this pretty pussy how i want?"

he was so fucking filthy. so filthy for someone who hasn't even seen you naked, so filthy for someone who didn't even talk to you before this. it was agonizing, you were melting into his harsh words and wanted to listen to him make you feel small like this all night.

"joel, i swear," you warned as his breath hit your lips with his eyes on yours.

you had a bush, he thought to himself. he really didn’t think that would turn him on of course,  but now he pictured you standing in front of him, bottomless. how your belly would look with your curves, the way your breasts would rest at their natural position, your thighs fat and wide all for him, and the pretty fat mound waiting for him to feel and taste. worst time to think all of that of course, because it sent a flood of blood and excitement to his groin, giving him another thing to be nervous about. but god did he want to see it, see all of you laid in his bed, and tugging on the thatch of hair on your mound. he was fucked.

and god forbid you figured out that he’s been picturing you bent and folded in every way just so he could reach to the back of your cervix, if you figured out that his anger towards you is pent up sexual frustration because every time you’re in the shower, he’s thinking of the way you looked lathered in soap, waiting for him to join you. he was a sick man to think of you like this, but all of his desires and fantasies were threatening to barge in, to unleash all of his wants and needs to you. 

he was fighting himself to be a respectable man, a man who doesn’t think of women who were young enough to be his own kid in ways that were sinful. he shouldn’t be wanting to fill your throat with his cock when you smart mouth him. he was losing whoever he thought was himself, and letting heart and cock do his thinking. 

you couldn't think right, nothing was processing as you felt the heat of his hand on your cunt. you felt another wave of pleasure hit you and suddenly, you could feel your wetness pooling for him in your panties. you had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that joel actually wanted you too, even if he wanted to put you in your place for once and shut you up.

you didn't care how he wanted you. you were a bitch, but you were desperate for him.

"mmm, you're real scary, baby, threats ain't gettin' you anywhere. you have t' beg me for my fingers," he teased, rubbing the hair on your mound.

"oh fuck off, i'm not begging you for shit," you're putting up a fight with yourself, and you were winning. at leadt you thought so. even if you were letting him touch you this way, you weren't goping to beg him or give him the pleasure of watching you submit to him.

"yeah? maybe i'll jus' make ya," he grinned, his sinister smile forming while he rested his forehead on yours, his hand inside your panties as the two of you watched him tease your lips.

the second joel’s finger moves from your hairy mound to the fat lips of your cunt to spread and feel just how much you ached for him, to tease your hole so you'd be sent into a fit of desperation, the two of you heard the doorknob jiggle and a loud laugh from the outside, meaning it was ellie. joel pulled his hand and body away quickly and nodded upstairs with a hard look, giving you the hint to go before ellie saw you in your panties. 

your face expressed everything to him, you needed him. and you didn’t want to let go. he watched as you walked up the stairs, your ass practically eating up the fabric of your panties. it left nothing to the imagination and he groaned, something you swore you heard, before he fixed himself in his pants. 

ellie walked in, and you stayed at the top of the stairs out of sight to hear the lecturing. 

“are you outta your damn mind, ellie? it’s three in the mornin’,” his paternal instincts were coming out, and you smiled. 

“i was down the street. relax, i just didn’t want to stay there.” ellie defended as she slipped her shoes off. 

“did somethin’ happen? are you hurt?” he asked quickly, examining ellie to see if he saw blood or cuts anywhere. 

“jeez, no joel lay off. why are you up anyways isn’t it like six hours past your bedtime?” she scoffed, annoyed at the father figure lecturing her right now. what was he gonna tell her? 

“was waitin for your friend to come home, so i can lock up before bed,” he lied. he was lying and you knew it. you came home an hour ago, and he was still up. 

“you’re in love aren’t ya? old man,” ellie teased. her demeanor was a little more playful than she’d been this last month and he shook his head annoyed, but to you it was silent. your lips pinched into a thin line as you heard joel grunt.

“go to be ellie. now.” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, saying her good nights and going to the garage to sleep in her space. 

a part of you wanted joel to come upstairs, into your room and to do everything he wanted to do. you didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but with the touching and flirting he was doing, it seemed like he wanted you. maybe he was drunk, you could smell it on his breath! he seemed pretty sober talking to ellie. you cursed yourself as you moved quietly to your room, leaving the door cracked open just in case. 

but nothing. you heard him trudge up the stairs, and walk directly the opposite direction into his own room. you were frustrated at this point. sexually frustrated if you must say, and the ache in your core was not leaving any time soon. 

you felt embarrassed, and you felt like joel was toying with you. all of the sudden this comes up and he's trying to finger fuck you in the living room when you genuinely thought he didn't even acknowledge your mere existence. it was so confusing for you, but the only thing you knew for sure now after a few weeks of deciding is that you craved joel miller.

it was a weird feeling. only because growing up in an apocalyptic world as a teenager and a young adult meant your chances of love and relationships were slim to none, at least for you. but you met joel in times where you had given up already.

as you lied in bed, wondering if joel was asleep or thinking about you too, you felt silly. you were setting yourself up for disaster by having hope that whatever this was with joel was more than that, and not just that. you worried you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe you were taking joel's advances too seriously. what if he just wants an easy fuck? nothing serious, something for pleasure in this dark world where everyone seeks a way to alleviate their pain

you felt like maybe you were geting into your head like you always do. maybe this could be good. maybe this could be your chance to let go, be vulnreable again, let someone make you feel like a teenager again. you had your fair share of crushes when you were in the QZ, you remembered that innocent feeling of liking someone, the shyness that came with it, how nervous you got around them. and with joel, you felt that times one hundred.

the flutters in your stomach, the goosebumps on your skin when he stands too close to you. he made you feel good even without trying.

but nothing good comes from joel miller.

#plus size smut #fat girls #chubby smut #plus size reader #chubby #joel miller #joel miller x plus sized reader #smut #joel miller tlou #joel and ellie #joel tlou #hbo the last of us #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x plus size reader #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us hbo #tlou smut #tlou fic #the last of us smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #plus size series #curvy #body positive #thick and juicy #smut stories #fem reader #drabble

[cowboybeepboop]

Late Night Fantasy

“Princess, is this okay?” “That’s my good girl,”

Pairing: Steve Harrington x AFAB reader

Genre: romantic smut

Word count: 2066

Summary: An innocent sleepover turns to something less than innocent

Warnings: perv steve, perv steve as your bff, play fighting, not proof read, masturbating, just oral sex, sappy ending, lots of lovey-dovey nicknames

a/n: i see a lot of like Eddie being a perv as your best friend and I could not find much steve as a pervy best friend so in the same fashion as how this started (me writing smut), I’ll just do it myself. Also this literally took like 4 months to write and idk why. Since I’m on break I’ll hopefully be uploading more frequently <3

We’re just friends.

We're just friends.

We're just friends.

Steve repeats the same thing over and over again, barely being able to keep his mind off of you. It didn't help that you showed up on his doorstep in a soaked white t-shirt with a bright red bra underneath, it especially didn't help that he knew you were naked 50 feet away from him in his shower. It was almost like you did it on purpose. Like you knew he wouldn't be able to keep his thoughts pure.

For fucks sake. He runs a hand through his hair while slouching on his couch, he grabs the remote flipping through every channel until he finds some romance movie that he could cringe at. Because at least that would stunt his erection.

That was until you came into the living room, wearing his shirt and sweatpants, you smelled like him, you were wearing his clothes. Holy hell did he love this.

“Oh my god steve, I cant believe youre watching this without me.” you plop down next to him on the couch, drying your hair with the towel he gave you.

“Hm?” his eyes flicker to the screen, “Oh, yeah it was the only decent thing on.” he shrugs.

“Sure, sure.” you smirk, “I’m sure you were totally uninterested in seeing this hunk fall for his best friend who has been there all along, waiting for him to just notice her,” your tone is sarcastic and dramatic all at once.

“Y/N shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes and reaches for the remote.

“Wow Steve, no reason to resort to foul language,” you steal the remote from him, putting it on the other side of you.

“Give that back,” he furrows his eyebrows while crossing his arms over his chest.

“And what if I don't wanna?” you bat your eyelashes innocently and pout your lips. He leans over you grabbing the remote, you push him back, straddling his hips as you take it away. “Steveee, I’m watching this. Don’t be cruel,”

“I’ll let you watch it as long as you never whine again, you know I hate that shit.” you smile sweetly.

“I know,” you pat his cheek lightly, “it always makes you cave.” his hands rest on your hips, his body wants to grind them against his, but his brain is fighting every urge.

You shimmy off his lap, turning your attention back to the tv, Steve sits up and pulls your legs onto his lap.

“You'll be more comfortable laying down,” he nods, proud of his stupid excuse. You shrug it off fully laying down, his hands run up and down your legs.

Steve is driving himself insane. Why did he want your body on his, he knew it would give him a raging boner if your thigh was almost touching his dick, he felt like roaming his hands on your legs was taking advantage of you in some way.

God hes a fucking pervert and he knows it. He just doesn't care anymore.

Steve notices you sleeping, this makes him smile to himself. He turns off the tv and picks you up bridal style, carrying you to his room. He lightly tosses you onto the bed, pulling the covers off so he can cover you up later, he pulls off the sweats you were wearing.

Harrington chews on his bottom lip softly as his thoughts run wild, on one hand he should probably deal with his boner before you wake up, but on the other hand youd probably freak the fuck out if you woke up alone in a bed you werent previously on.

“Baby,” Steve whispers into your ear as he pulls up the blanket, covering you up. You groan quietly and turn to face away from him, “Y/N,” he tries again.

“What is it,” you mumble, half asleep.

“I’m going to take a shower,” rolling over you look at him sleepily. “Okay?” Steve questions softly, nodding in response you pull the covers over your head.

“Don’t take too long, Stevie.” Harrington practically sprints to his bathroom, he turns the shower on and strips. As soon as he takes his boxers off his dick jumps straight up, he sighs running a hand through his hair whilst biting on his lower lip.

Around 5 minutes pass with you tossing and turning before you give up on trying to fall back asleep, sitting up you cross your arms over your chest yawning quietly. Soft groans fill the air causing you to perk up, looking in the direction that they’re coming from, you slow your breathing trying to stay as silent as possible.

Steve groans out your name and you hop out of the bed, knocking on the bathroom door, “Harrington, is everything alright?” shit, shit, shit. His thoughts run all over the place, he hisses silently while keeping his hand around his cock.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Steve swallows a moan as he pictures you on your knees in front of him, your pretty little lips wrapped around his dick, leaving lipstick rings on his flesh.

“I heard some groaning, and I thought I heard my name. Are you sure you’re alright?” your hand is wrapped around the golden doorknob as you press your ear into the door.

“Mhm, everything is 100% okay,” Steve tries to keep his voice as normal as possible, though it shakes a bit as his movements become sloppier.

“Can I come in? Just so we can talk or something. It’s too quiet in your room,” Harrington’s eyebrows furrow as he throws his head back against the tiles, warm water spilling all over his chest.

“Of course, Angel,” his voice is barely loud enough to hear over the running water. Nevertheless, you open the door and take a seat on the lid of the toilet. Even though you came inside with the disguise of having a conversation, the room stays silent other than the shower running.

“Could you hand me a towel?” Steve sighs quietly, he’ll just have to have blue balls until you fall back asleep and he can sneak away again. You squeeze your eyes shut as you open the shower curtain to hand him the towel. “What darlin? Not even gonna try to sneak a peek?”

“Steve, don’t even joke about that,” his eyes trail over your body. You turn your back to him, keeping your eyes on the wall. He wraps his arms around your back, flooding your senses with the smell of his body wash and shampoo.

“You’re getting my shirt wet,” you pull at his arms, trying to remove them from your waist.

“I can get other things wet too,” Steve whispers into your ear, chills run down your spine as your face turns red.

“Steve!” you laugh softly while shaking your head. “You’re so childish,” your body relaxes into his.

“Y/N,” Harringtons voice is low as his lips hover over your nape, he moves a hand lower on your hip, squeezing gently. “I’m serious,” he presses a kiss onto your neck, “stop me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” his hand slips into your panties, using two fingers he runs them between your folds.

Your legs close subconsciously as you lean your head back against his shoulder, eyes tightly shut and lips parted. Steve pushes a finger into your hole, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “This okay, Sunshine?” using his free arm, he squeezes your breast.

“Mhm,” you bite down on your lower lip, moaning softly. Steve kisses the back of your neck, finger fucking you gently.

He inserts a second finger, widening his pointer and middle finger to stretch you out, you grasp onto his upper arm while trying to hold back moans.

“Let me hear you,” he whispers into your ear before biting on your earlobe, “don’t hold back, Y/N.” Harrington kisses your jawline, pulling your face to his, your eyes lock with his. “Fuck Y/N,” he kisses you passionately, pulling his hand from your panties and flipping you around.

Your fingers tangle into his hair while Steve's hands cup your ass. He lifts you up letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you into his bedroom, laying you down on the bed gently, his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties.

Harrington leans over your body, leaving a trail of kisses as he lowers himself onto his knees and pulls your hips to the edge of his bed. Steve brushes his lips over your hip bones, he pulls your panties off, throwing them to the side.

“Princess, is this okay?” he locks eyes with you, his breath fanning over your pussy. You nod rapidly while leaning your head back, “I wanna hear you say it,” he leans away from you.

“Steve, Steve, please. I want this, I want you, please,” he smirks, dipping his head down, he sucks dark marks into your thighs.

“That’s my good girl,” wrapping his arms around your legs he spreads them wide, he kisses wet kisses up your thighs sucking in a deep breath as he reaches your throbbing clit.

Your body twitches in anticipation, he licks a long stripe between your folds, his lips landing on your pink nub. Harrington sucks on your clit gently, pressing his nose into your warm flesh.

You moan loudly, arching your body into him, “oh god,” he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud. Sending shivers all over your body, his fingertips squeeze into your flesh.

Steve pushes two fingers into your cunt, moving them in and out at an achingly slow pace, he sticks his tongue under your clit hood. Running the tip back and forth, before flicking upwards, he used his thumbs to keep your pussy lips spread. You feel a pressure building in your core, like an itch in your gut.

“Cum for my baby.. I want to taste you, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your sweaty skin as sensations continue to build in my core demanding release. You tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him as close as you can.

He rubs the tip of his nose at the right angle into the sensitive bundle, hitting just the right spot. Your body shakes, you try to pull away as an itchy feeling of ecstasy takes over your brain, he presses his thumb onto your clit, rubbing circles. You moan loudly as the itch starts to become overwhelming but he won't let up, he keeps pushing and prodding until cum spills out of your pulsing hole.

He licks up every last bit of cum he can, he wipes his mouth with a proud expression painted on his face, leaving his fingers to keep playing with your pussy pushing the orgasm further. Steve sits you up and brushes your hair back with his clean hand, tucking the loose strands behind your ear.

“God, you’re so hot like this,” his voice is low and hoarse. Steve presses kisses on your collarbones, he pulls you into his lap.

“Steve..” you mumble against his chest, he lays back and pulls you against him.

“Yeah baby?” His hand reaches up to your head caressing your hair softly, “if you’re tired, then sleep” he whispers softly.

You press both hands against his lower stomach, lifting yourself off of him “not yet,” you move between his legs taking his hard dick in your hand, you peer up at him innocently as you wrap your lips around his tip. Steve moans while he wraps his fingers in your hair, pulling at the roots.

“Fuck, I’ve been dreaming about this forever.” he grunts as you start to lower yourself on his length, pushing it in as far as you can. His hips buck up into your mouth, “Darlin’ it won’t take much to get me off, you don’t have-” he cuts himself off as you begin bobbing your head up and down on his dick.

Much to his own dismay it took just a few minutes before he came, his eyebrows furrowed as his chest rises and falls rapidly. Steve grasps your arms gently and guides you onto him, he wraps his arms around you pulling you in for a hug. “Let’s sleep, Y/N”, he mumbles into your ear, closing his eyes.

You nod against him, your eyes begin to feel tired as the sound of his heart beat draws you to sleep.

#reader x steve smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things season four #perv best friend